Archive of Our Own ^beta

1

Hawks lands lazily in front of his apartment complex, his eyes droop and he suppresses a yawn while entering the building and dragging his feet towards the elevator.

He presses the top arrow and then pulls out his phone as he waits, opening his food delivery app as he scrolls through the options, trying to decide what to have for dinner.

The doors open with a ding, and he steps inside, ticking his phone back in his pocket and slumping against the walls of the lift.

His eyes flutter shut briefly, his thoughts wandering as fingers reach up towards his temple and massages at the sensitive area harshly, trying to force away the day’s stress, his eyes open again when the door opens again and a woman along with her son enter.

They both falter at the sight of the number two hero, slipping in beside with awe as Hawks eyes shut back, not bothering with the facade of his usual hero persona—too tired to put up an act in front of them.

Hawks never took the elevator, he usually just flew up to the penthouse or took the stairs which he knew no one else did because they were tiring.

The son tugs at his mother eagerly, “Can I please ask him?” He begs her and Hawks cracks open an eye.

“No, he’s obviously very tired. Let him be.” She scolds him quietly.

The corners of Hawks' lips twitch upward; he appreciates people like her—genuinely good people who empathize with heroes without placing them on an unreachable pedestal and then being surprised when they slip off of it. They don’t treat heroes as otherworldly beings or expect them to be perfect. Instead, they understand that heroes are just as human as anyone else, never surprised when they show vulnerability or get tired and aren't always smiling.

The boy glances over at him, Hawks tilts his head slightly with a smile. The boy grins in return, and Hawks sends a playful wink his way.

“Wanna see a trick?” Hawks asks the boy, stepping towards him slowly, both the mother and boy are surprised when they realize he’s directly addressing them.

“Yeah.” The boy nods eagerly.

Hawks reaches towards his ear and puts on a troubled expression, making himself seem like he’s trying his very hardest to pull something that’s stuck behind the boy’s ear.

He pulls back a feather that has his autograph signed on it with a gasp, “How’d that get there?” Hawks hands him the red feather.

“How’d you do that!?” The boy exclaims, happily accepting the feather.

“A magician never reveals his secrets.” Hawks places a finger up to his lips as the elevator door opens and walks out backwards.

Hawks chuckles at his words as he realizes hanging around the league, mostly Mr. Compress is affecting him.

As he approaches his apartment, he notices several things: the sharp scent of blood, waves of heat radiating from inside—more intense than usual—and the sound of shuffling accompanied by heavy breathing.

He immediately sharpens his feathers, their edges razor-sharp, they gleam dangerously in the dim lighting, as he plucks two from his wing, gripping them like daggers in each hand. 

Meanwhile, a third feather slips ahead, moving swiftly as it unlocks the door and pushes it open just enough for him to see inside. His senses are on high alert, his muscles tense—refusing to let his guard down as he steps inside. 

As he steps inside, his eyes quickly scan the room. Several of his belongings are scattered across the floor, carelessly knocked over as the intruder moved through his space without a second thought. The next thing he notices is the burnt lock on his balcony door, evidence of a forced entry, with a bloody handprint smeared across the glass.

He can feel the unsteady drumming of a heartbeat resonating through the walls of his bathroom, the vibrations subtly trembling in the air. Cautiously, he makes his way down the hall, every step as silent as an ant.

Droplets of blood trail along the floor, leading up to the bathroom. His breath catches in his throat as he halts in front of the cracked bathroom door. “Dabi?” he calls out.

The head of black hair jerks up, alarmed. “Oh.” He breathes out before his face shifts into mild annoyance. “Shit, Make a little noise when coming in, will you?” Dabi grumbles, though his voice comes out as more of a strained wheeze. He’s clutching his stomach, holding his coat against the wound and applying pressure to stem the bleeding.

“What are you doing here? How did you find my apartment? What happened?” Hawks’ questions tumble out rapidly, one after the other while trying and failing to appear calm.

Dabi fixes him with a flat, annoyed stare. “Recruits. You were the closest I could get to without bleeding out and I figured you’d have a medkit stashed somewhere. So don’t get your feathers all ruffled. I’ll be out in a minute.” 

“You are bleeding out,” Hawks points out. “And it still doesn’t answer how you found me.”

Dabi shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s not that hard. Honestly, I’m surprised your fangirls haven’t shown up already.”

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Hawks asks, glancing at the untouched medkit with an amused glint.

“I’ll figure it out,” Dabi replies, his tone clipped.

Hawks lets out an exasperated sigh at the response, pinching the bridge of his nose as he questions why the commission thought he was the right person for this mission. What had he ever done to deserve this?

For the greater good.

He reminds himself, repeating the mantra over and over. With a deep breath, he turns his attention back to Dabi and approaches him.

“Move that,” he instructs, gesturing to the coat. He kneels in front of Dabi, carefully opening the medkit. The case clicks open, revealing a neatly organized assortment of bandages, antiseptics, and medical tools. Hawks pulls out what he needs, his movements methodical and focused as he prepares to tend to the wound.

“What are you doing?” Dabi’s eyes narrow with suspicion as he tosses aside the coat. Hawks glances up with a smile, lifting Dabi’s shirt to examine the wound.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Hawks replies with a hint of sass. “The sooner you get patched up, the sooner I can go to bed. Don’t you worry, I’ve been trained for these kinds of things—you’re in good hands.” He flashes a confident grin, his fingers reaching for a cloth and standing to wet it. 

“I have to clean it first,” he says, returning to Dabi’s side. He carefully dabs at the wound, moving the cloth around to clean it. Dabi sucks in a breath as Hawks works, his wound shifting with each careful movement of the cloth.

“Alright, hold that,” Hawks instructs, pulling his hand away just as Dabi reaches for the cloth. Their hands meet halfway, Dabi’s scarred hand brushing briefly against Hawks’ gloved one, before Dabi takes hold of the cloth, pressing it against his wound.

Hawks quickly blocks out the fluttering sensation in his chest, focusing on the task at hand. He reaches for a sterilized needle and thread from the medkit, his hands steady despite the momentary distraction.

“That needs to be stitched up, it might hurt.” He warns Dabi in a steady voice, not looking up as he focuses intently on getting the thread through the needle, his pupils dilating with the effort.

“I’ve experienced worse.” Dabi says in a sarcastic tone, emphasizing his point by making a show of glancing at his scars and the staples that pinch them together.

“Right,” Hawks replies with an awkward laugh, shaking off the tension. He turns his attention back to Dabi’s injury and commands, “Move that.” His tone is firm as he focuses on preparing to stitch up the wound.

“Fix your tone,” Dabi retortd, his eyes narrowing into a halfhearted glare. Hawks rolls his eyes in response. “I’m trying to help you,” he mutters under his breath, his patience wearing thin. Dabi’s only stares at him, an annoyed expression evident.

“Please?” Hawks asks, batting his eyelashes with exaggerated and feigned sweetness.

Dabi remains still and silent for a moment before reluctantly pulling the cloth away, dragging his movements out purposefully.

Hawks lets out an exasperated sigh at Dabi’s behavior, shifting a bit closer to get a better view of the wound. His eyes shine with determination as he carefully guides the needle through Dabi’s skin, pulling the thread along with it.

He repeats the motion in a steady, zigzag pattern, carefully stitching up the wound before pulling away. Setting the needle and thread aside, he picks up a cotton pad and some alcohol, then proceeds to clean away the remaining traces of blood and thoroughly disinfect the wound.

Dabi sucks in another subtle breath when Hawks’ covered finger flutters over the cotton pad and onto Dabi’s skin, his stomach tightening and pulling inward with each movement of his breath. 

His skin flinching away from Hawks’ touch, as if it’s searing his skin.

“Does that sting?” Hawks asks, halting his movements and glancing up at Dabi with a teasing look. Dabi, already staring down with an unreadable expression, keeps his eyes locked hard on Hawks. The intensity of the gaze makes Hawks a bit uneasy, causing him to loosen his grip on the alcohol bottle. It drops, but he reacts quickly, using a feather to catch it mid-fall.

“No,” Dabi responds, his gaze remaining fixed as Hawks shifts his focus back to the wound.

Hawks nods subtly, swallowing nervously as he sets the alcohol aside and tosses the used cotton pad into the trash. “Lift your shirt more,” he instructs, keeping his eyes on the medkit as he reaches for the gauze, his hands steady despite the tension in the air.

To Hawks’ surprise, Dabi obliges without hesitation, lifting his shirt higher to give him better access. Hawks takes his time, carefully stringing the gauze around Dabi’s waist. His fingers work with practiced precision, ensuring the bandage is snug but not too tight, wrapping layer after layer to secure the wound. He’s mindful of every movement, making sure not to cause Dabi any more pain than necessary. The silence between them is thick, broken only by the soft rustle of the gauze as it winds around Dabi’s torso.

He pulls back, but his hand lingers on Dabi’s side, the gauze serving as a thin barrier between them. Hawks’ eyes roam over Dabi’s figure, assessing his work. “It’s not too tight?”

“No,” Dabi responds, his tone flat.

“Alright.” Hawks nods, finally removing his hands as Dabi’s shirt falls back down, the fabric settling swiftly. 

Hawks tidies up, methodically returning the medkit to its spot before opening the medicine cabinet. He retrieves a bottle, twists off the cap, and shakes out two capsules. Holding them out to Dabi, he says, “These should help with the pain.” His voice is more casual now, the earlier tension easing out. 

Dabi snatches the capsules from Hawks’ hand with a swift motion and tosses them into his mouth, swallowing them dry without a second thought.

Hawks watches, grimacing at the action. “I would’ve gotten you water,” he says, his tone slightly exasperated as he recalls the feather that had been sent to fetch it, watching as it returns to his side.

“It doesn’t make that much of a difference,” Dabi remarks with a dismissive gesture, standing and heading toward the door. “Thanks, pigeon. You’re not completely useless,” he adds, his tone carrying a begrudging hint of appreciation.

Hawks is quick to trail behind Dabi, a teasing expression on his face. “So, me getting you classified and important information isn’t useful?” he challenges, his tone exaggerated and filled with mock surprise.

Dabi pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Huh. Right, you do do that,” he mutters. Hawks can’t help but laugh at the response, the sound light and genuine.

As Dabi heads toward the balcony, Hawks hurries to say, “You know, you could crash on the couch.” He quickly follows up, “Those pills are going to make you drowsy, and your condition isn’t exactly ideal. It wouldn’t be great for you to be walking around like that—it’d make you an easy target for others.” He tries to keep his tone casual, masking any hint of bother or desperation.

Dabi’s eyes flash with suspicion, and Hawks quickly reassures, “Relax, I wouldn’t try anything. I’m not cruel.” He pouts playfully, then lets out a dramatic yawn for emphasis. “I’ll probably be out faster than you,” he says with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

“Also, you owe me for that,” Hawks says with a grin, pointing to the burnt lock. As he speaks, a flurry of feathers whirls around, efficiently cleaning the blood from the glass and floor.

Dabi slumps onto the couch with a sigh. “I’m not paying you jack. Get a stronger lock.”

Hawks mutters under his breath, “Clearly, it was strong if you had to burn it,” his tone a mix of annoyance and amusement as he continues tidying up.

“Well, if someone else breaks in, you’ll be the first victim, and that’s on you,” Hawks points out with a shrug as he turns to leave. “Night, Dabs!” he calls over his shoulder cheerfully, his voice carrying a playful edge as Dabi glares at his retreating back.

Hawks isn’t out quicker than Dabi. In fact, he doesn’t fall asleep at all. He can’t, and he doesn’t know why. No matter how much he tosses and turns, sleep remains absent, slipping away despite his best efforts.

His mind is consumed with thoughts of Dabi—Dabi, just down the hall, under the same roof as him, sleeping on Hawks' couch!

He can’t help but wonder: Is Dabi asleep? Did the pills help him, or is he having as much trouble sleeping as Hawks is?

Hawks sits upright, his frustration evident as he scrubs at his face with both hands. He groans into the closed space, the sound bouncing off the walls and amplifying his sense of helplessness.

Maybe it’s fear.

He let a villain into his home—if anyone should be worried about being attacked while asleep, it’s him. Dabi’s presence is keeping him on edge, and with his guard up, he can’t seem to relax enough to fall asleep. 

“Yeah, that makes sense.” He whispers to himself with a sigh, if that’s the reason then he wouldn’t be falling asleep any time soon.

He slips out of his bed and stands, his feet making contact with the cold surface beneath, his door creaks open softly as he opens it, stepping out into the dimly lit hall, he moves quietly as his feet patter against the floor.

He walks past the couch and heads into the kitchen, the quiet hum of the refrigerator his only company. He turns on the faucet and bends forward, placing his mouth directly under the cool, rushing stream of water. Ignoring the clean cups and the filtered water in the fridge, he drinks straight from the tap, letting the water cascade over his face and dribble down his chin. 

Eventually, he pulls back from the faucet and turns off the tap. He swallows the last bit of water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling the cool droplets on his skin as he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts.

When he exits the kitchen, he doesn’t immediately walk past the couch. Instead, he carefully moves around it and crouches in front of the sleeping figure. His eyes study Dabi’s form, searching for any sign of discomfort or distress.

It seems Dabi isn’t having any trouble falling asleep; in fact, he’s knocked out cold. The pills must have helped, as he appears deeply asleep.

Hawks watches Dabi with interest. He wouldn’t describe Dabi as looking particularly peaceful while asleep. Even in slumber, Dabi’s guard seems to be up—his brows are slightly furrowed, and the corners of his mouth are turned downward. Though his scowl is softened, it’s still evident.

It seems that even in sleep, Dabi can’t fully relax. 

Hawks feels the urge to reach out and smooth Dabi's features into relaxation, but he resists. He knows that touching him would only serve to wake Dabi, and he wants anything but that. Instead, he stays crouched, simply watching.

Another thing Hawks notices is that Dabi is using his coat, still stained with dried blood, as a blanket. He cringes at the sight, a pang of guilt washing over him. The idea of Dabi resting under something so grim makes him feel uneasy.

Hawks had never expected to have guests, so he never saw the point in keeping spare blankets or extra bedding. It just wasn’t something he ever thought he’d need. Now, as he watches Dabi, a wave of regret washes over him. He wishes he’d been better prepared.

But with sleep still evading him, unlike Dabi, Hawks decides to take action. He sends a feather to his bedroom to fetch his duvet. Within two seconds, the feathers return, carrying the blanket with them. Gently, Hawks replaces Dabi’s coat with the warm cover, careful not to disturb him. As the duvet settles over Dabi, he sends the bloodstained coat off to the wash, hoping it’ll at least help the other man rest a bit more comfortably.

He settles back down, taking a seat as he continues to watch Dabi. The duvet rises and falls gently with Dabi’s breaths. 

Hawks' wing flutters softly, attuned to the subtle vibrations of Dabi’s barely audible breathing. The sensation is faint, just enough to be felt without overwhelming his feathers.

His eyes drift to Dabi’s hair, and he wonders if it’s soft or if the intense heat from his fire powers has made it coarse. With a mixture of curiosity and caution, he slowly reaches out, keeping his gaze fixed on Dabi’s face, wary of waking him.

His thumb and index finger gently latch onto the ends of Dabi’s hair, rubbing the strands between his fingers. It’s not entirely soft, but it isn’t coarse either. The texture is interesting, and he finds it oddly satisfying to play with, despite the rough edges.

Feeling a bit cocky and distracted, Hawks’ fingers drift further up, and his talons graze Dabi’s scalp. Dabi’s head twitches in response—at the same time the air around them grows hotter, and Hawks quickly pulls his hand back, his heart racing as he silently curses his lapse in judgment and hopes he hasn’t disturbed Dabi.

Eventually, Dabi’s breathing evens out and so does the air, the cool breeze returning. Hawks exhales a quiet sigh of relief, his earlier tension easing. 

He resumes his observation, his eyes, unblinking, drifts over Dabi’s features and his gaze linger on Dabi’s lips, which are pressed into a thin, straight line. The earlier frown has faded, replaced by a more neutral expression. The corners of his mouth are no longer turned downward but instead rest in a flat, calm position. 

Hawks notes the subtle change with a gleam of satisfaction.

He finds himself wondering how the contrast between healthy skin and the roughness of dead skin would feel against his own lips. The thought catches in his throat, causing a sudden flush of heat and a momentary catch in his breath. The idea stirs a mix of curiosity and discomfort, leaving him momentarily unsettled.

Then it dawns on him with sudden clarity: the reason he couldn’t sleep wasn’t fear but nervousness. 

The thought of Dabi sleeping in his living room made him feel flustered and on edge. 

It becomes clear why he had patched Dabi up with such concerned care, why he felt a desperate need for Dabi to stay, and why he had been so worried about Dabi’s comfort.

Hawks realizes that his feelings run deeper than he’d realized. The unease, the worry, the emotional turmoil—it’s all because he’s in love.

Hawks is head over heels in love with Dabi. 

Surprisingly, he doesn’t have a dramatic reaction to the realization. Instead, he accepts it with a quiet sense of understanding, whispering to himself with a nod, “Yeah, that makes more sense.” The realization settles within him easily, as if it was always there, and he feels a strange calm in acknowledging the truth of his feelings.

He considers calling up the commision and telling them the mission is compromised and that he isn’t the right person for it anymore, his feelings would get in the way, but they would demand an explanation.

“Well I’m madly in love with Dabi!”

He imagines himself saying that and cringes, it sounded ridiculous. He shakes his head softly—he can’t tell them, it’s too personal, too complicated.

He will continue with the mission, resolving to bury his feelings deep within his heart. He’ll push his emotions aside, focusing on the task at hand while keeping his growing affection for Dabi hidden away, as best he can.

He places his arms atop each other on the edge of the couch as he nods softly. “Yeah, that’s good…” he mumbles to himself, resting his cheek on his arms, still watching Dabi. 

He tries to fight it, he does, but he finds himself drifting into sleep, his eyes growing heavy as he remains close to the person he’s come to care so deeply for.

Hawks wakes with a groan as a sharp pain shoots through his side. Blinking his eyes open, he finds himself staring up at Dabi, who has his boot pressed firmly against Hawks’ stomach.

“Get up,” Dabi commands, his voice flat and curt.

Groggily, he sits upright, feeling the ache in his body. It takes a moment to realize he’s lying on the floor, and he can’t remember when or how that happened.

He yawns, stretching his arms overhead as he glances around the room. His fingers rake through his unruly hair, trying to tame the wild strands as he takes in his surroundings. The room feels unfamiliar in his groggy state, and he struggles to shake off the lingering drowsiness from his uncomfortable sleep on the floor.

“If a burglar broke in, I definitely wasn’t the first victim,” Dabi mutters under his breath, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words. Hawks frowns deeply, scrubbing at his face in an attempt to wake himself up before running his hands through his messy hair, trying to make himself look a little more presentable.

“Wow, you look even worse,” Dabi grins, a spark of amusement in his eyes. Hawks sighs, his gaze shifting to his tangled feathers, each one sticking out at odd angles. He runs a hand through them, trying to smooth them down, but they seem just as stubborn as the mess on his head.

Thankfully, Dabi doesn’t bring up the fact that Hawks ended up sleeping on the floor beside him.

“Why’d you wake me up?” Hawks asks, a hint of a whine in his voice. Sue him—he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks, and the hard, cold floor had surprisingly felt like a small luxury. Yet here’s Dabi, ruining what little rest he had managed to get.

Dabi gestures to the table, where a steaming plate is set out—a mix of vegetables, meat, rice, and a side of soup. Hawks’ eyes light up at the sight, his stomach growling in response. How had he missed the aroma of such a meal? He must have been more exhausted than he realized.

Just as Hawks eagerly reaches for the chopsticks, Dabi stops him with a raised hand. 

“Wait,” Dabi says, causing Hawks to turn toward him with an annoyed expression. 

“What?” Hawks asks, frustration clear in his voice.

“Just so you know, this means I don’t owe you anything now,” Dabi says with a smirk.

Hawks stares at him with an exasperated look. “These are my ingredients,” he replies.

“That I cooked,” Dabi quips back with a challenging spark in his eyes.

Hawks raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You can’t settle the score like that,” he argues. “I don’t really think cooking a meal is equivalent to saving your life.” His gaze shifts to the plate, then back to Dabi.

“Don’t eat it then, and that’s an exaggeration,” Dabi counters, his tone nonchalant.

“It’s not an exaggeration,” Hawks objects, his voice rising slightly. “You were bleeding out!” 

Dabi doesn’t grace him with a response, only meeting Hawks’ gaze with an unyielding, tense look.

Hawks tries to hold Dabi’s gaze, but after just seven seconds, he’s forced to look away. You can’t blame him—have you seen the way Dabi looks at people!?

“Alright, you don’t owe me!” Hawks relents, his tone reluctantly accepting defeat. He grabs the chopsticks and starts eating, still grumbling under his breath as he digs into the meal.

Hawks eats quickly, each bite followed by another helping of food, while Dabi watches him intently. 

The meal is great, but it’s hard to focus on devouring it with Dabi’s intense gaze fixed on him. The scrutiny makes each bite feel slightly awkward, and Hawks can’t help but shift under the watchful eye.

Hawks slowly turns to Dabi with his mouth full, attempting to mumble a response, but quickly realizes that talking with his mouth full is a bad idea. He settles for giving Dabi a questioning look instead, noticing the disgusted expression on Dabi’s face.

“Did your parents never teach you proper table etiquette?” Dabi criticizes, a look of disappointment and disapproval clearly etched on his face.

Hawks slowly shakes his head, chewing deliberately as he swallows. He feels like a child being scolded, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he tries to maintain his composure under Dabi’s stern gaze.

“Clearly,” Dabi acknowledges with a hint of sarcasm, then shifts the topic. “Where’s my coat?”

“In the dryer,” Hawks responds. It seems that while he was asleep, his feathers had been working on autopilot, making sure Dabi’s coat was washed and dried.

Dabi walks away to find the dryer while Hawks continues eating. Each bite is a burst of flavor, the soup blending seamlessly with the rice and meat, creating a satisfying and well-balanced dish.

When Dabi returns, he finds Hawks finishing the last of his soup. Hawks takes a final sip, savoring the last bit of the rich broth. Dabi's gaze is flat, his expression unreadable as as he takes in the scene. “Did you even taste any of it?” he asks, a hint of irritation in his voice. His eyes scan the empty plate and the remnants of soup, clearly questioning whether Hawks truly appreciated the meal.

Hawks nods swiftly, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Yeah! Maybe I should get people to rough you up more so I can patch you up and you can cook for me.” He pauses before adding, “Seriously, man, you’d make a great wife.” His tone is light and teasing, though there’s an underlying warmth in his compliment.

The room falls into a heavy silence, the tension palpable as Dabi’s eyes lock onto Hawks. The silence stretches, and Hawks can’t read the expression on Dabi’s face. Finally, Dabi’s voice cuts through the quiet, his tone flat and unamused. 

“Do I look like a girl to you?” he asks, his tone lacking any true bite.

Hawks shrugs nonchalantly, not fully realizing the impact of his words. “You could pass.”

“What?” Dabi’s voice sharpens, his expression darkening with irritation. Hawks quickly tries to diffuse the situation.

“I’m saying you’re pretty!” Hawks blurts out, immediately cringing at his choice of words. The confession makes his face flush with embarrassment. Without his jacket to hide behind, he awkwardly raises his wings to shield his face, hoping to conceal his reddening cheeks.

“Is that a joke?” Dabi’s eyes narrow, his expression still dark and scrutinizing.

“No! I’m serious!” Hawks insists, his voice earnest but tinged with nervousness as he peeks out from behind his wings.

Dabi doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he inhales sharply, his gaze hardening before he abruptly turns on his heel and storms away. The sound of his heavy footsteps echoes as he exists through the balcony, leaving Hawks with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Fuck me.” He mutters, banging his head against the table with frustration and embarrassment.

2

Hawks glides effortlessly through the clouds, his sharp eyes scanning the bustling cityscape below. The cool, crisp air rushes past his hair, making it whip around in the breeze, while his wings cut through the sky with powerful strokes. 

From his high point, Hawks has an unparalleled view of the world below. He can see the smallest details, like insects scurrying across the ground, and the more intimidating sight of towering giants—humans—moving through the city, their figures casting long shadows as they crush the tiny creatures beneath them, killing then swiftly but painfully. 

As Hawks soars through the sky, he feels a profound sense of freedom and superiority. The ability to touch the heavens and watch over the city below is a rare privilege, one that only he and a few others share. 

Before he can dwell any longer, a notification from his phone snaps him back to reality. It’s a specific sound he set for a certain individual, prompting him to quickly retrieve his phone from his pocket.

He swipes open his phone and sees a message from Dabi with a location pinned. It’s unusual—Dabi never asks to meet him during the day.

Hawks furrows his brows in contemplation. He’s working, currently on patrol, but he never denies Dabi’s requests to meet up—because it was his mission. 

He figures the commission would most likely want him to meet with Dabi, it must be important and if he were to miss something critical, they would be angry. 

If they question him on why he left, he can explain.

With that in mind, he decides to abandon his patrol route in favour of meeting Dabi. 

“There’ll be other heroes around if something happens,” he tells himself as he changes course.

The entire flight over, Hawks is gnawed by a growing sense of anxiety. What could Dabi possibly want this early? Did he mess up somehow? Was Dabi okay? Did something happen with the League? 

A string of unanswered questions swirls in his mind, each one adding to the knot tightening in his chest.

The location is an abandoned bridge, its structure looking so fragile it seems like it could collapse into the dried-up river below at any second. The structure creeks under the weight of time, it’s rusted parts barely holding together. Despite that, Dabi leans casually against the railing, completely unfazed. His gaze fixed on the landscape beneath him. Hawks watches from above as Dabi stares down at the rocks, weeds, and dirt as though they’re the most captivating thing in the world, It's as if the emptiness below has captured his full attention, drawing him in like a quiet obsession.

Hawks descends beside him, wings fluttering softly as he hovers over the fragile bridge. “You called?” He asks, clearing his throat to catch Dabi’s attention.

Dabi doesn't look away from the dry riverbed. "No, I didn’t," he replies flatly, as if the message was just another figment of Hawks’ imagination. His gaze stays fixed below, showing no interest in Hawks’ arrival.

"Okay, you texted. Same difference." Hawks shrugs, trying to sound casual. "Point is, what’s up?" he questions, tilting his head slightly as he tries to read Dabi’s expression, eyes scanning Dabi’s expression for any hint of why he’d called him out here. The tension in the air feels off, and Hawks can’t quite place why, the uneasy silence between them stretches as Dabi keeps his focus on the riverbed below, offering no immediate response.

Dabi tilts his head slightly to meet Hawks’ gaze, mirroring his motion with a sly grin. The faint sunlight casts a sharp edge on his features, highlighting his eyes and staples—giving them a slight glistening effect that causes Hawks’ pupils to dilate. “It’s just really fun seeing you drop everything to meet with me,” he drawls, his voice low and teasing. “You’re pretty desperate, aren’t you?”

Hawks narrows his eyes, trying to decipher Dabi’s intent. “So there’s no actual reason for this meetup?” he asks slowly.

Dabi casually shrugs, a lazy smile playing on his lips. “If my entertainment isn’t reason enough, then no.”

Hawks’ lips curl into a playful grin as he mimics Dabi’s teasing tone. “Well, Dabs, if all you wanted was to hang out, you could’ve asked! I could never say no to you.” He hovers effortlessly, his feathers slightly ruffling in the breeze.

Dabi scoffs, an expression akin to annoyance on his face but it doesn’t hold much bite. “Sure, if that’s what you wnag to go with.” His voice is laced with irritation, though there’s an undercurrent of amusement in his eyes.

“You just gonna float there the whole time?” Dabi questions before Hawks can attempt another teasing comment, arching an eyebrow as he glances at Hawks.

Hawks grins, hovering casually above the bridge. “That bridge already seems unstable with you on it. I think I’ll stay off of it.” He shifts his position slightly, his wings adjusting to keep him steady.

Dabi snickers, the sound low and rumbling as it reverberates through the air. “Look at that, the number two’s scared,” he taunts, leaning further against the railing in a mocking manner as it creaks louder.

Hawks frowns, his eyes brows pinched together as he watches Dabi actions with mild concern. “I’m being cautious and safe. I am not scared.” He crosses his arms, trying to sound nonchalant despite the unease in his tone.

“Then please, be my guest,” Dabi drawls, a challenging glint in his eye.

Hawks sighs, shaking his head as he gingerly steps onto the bridge. The old wooden planks strain under his weight, but he keeps his focus on Dabi, trying to ignore the unstable feeling beneath his feet.

“Since we’re being so brave, why not push it?” Dabi taunts, jumping over the railing and perching himself on the edge. The bridge groans and sways slightly under his weight, the metal starts to visibly strain. 

Dabi balances effortlessly, his eyes fixed on Hawks with a challenging glint. Hawks hovers nearby, his heart racing as he watches Dabi with a mix of worry and irritation.

Hawks’ heart skips a beat as he watches Dabi balance precariously, his posture relaxed and almost nonchalant. The old bridge trembles, its rusty bolts and weathered planks creaking in protest. “Dabi, come on—” Hawks calls out, a frown bracing his features as he hovers closer, his eyes locked on Dabi. He stretches a hand towards him, trying to mask the annoyance and worry he feels as he battles against the urge to pull Dabi back to safety.

The wind tugs at Dabi’s coat and hair, and the bridge’s groans continue as if protesting the added pressure.

Dabi’s eyes narrow as he leans back against the railing, his posture relaxed despite the danger of his position. He glances over his shoulder at Hawks. “Thought you weren’t afraid,” he mocks.

“This isn’t about fear, it’s about safety.” Hawks retorts sharply, his wings fluttering anxiously as he hovers just above the bridge. “Anyone with eyes can see this isn’t safe!” His gaze flickers between Dabi and the unstable bridge.

Dabi hums noncommittally, his focus returning to below, seemingly indifferent to Hawks' concern. 

With a resigned sigh, Hawks opts not to jump over the railing. Instead, he takes to the air, gliding over the edge and landing beside Dabi on the ledge of the wooden floor. The space is so narrow that there’s barely room for both of them to sit comfortably. Every shift or movement feels risky.

“Are you scared of heights? That’s odd, considering you’re flying most of the time,” Dabi remarks, his tone casual as he glances sideways at Hawks.

“I’m not scared. But you should be. I have wings; what do you have?” Hawks retorts, his eyes narrowing in annoyance.

Dabi shrugs nonchalantly, “You’d let your only chance of getting into the League fall?”

“Yeah, if he’s being idiotic,” Hawks replies, his tone flat.

“Don’t get all worked up, wings. It’s not that big of a fall,” Dabi replies with a bored and annoyed expression.

“Still, it’d be pretty embarrassing if you fell,” Hawks counters.

“Hm. You’re right,” Dabi muses, a wicked grin forming. “If I fall, I’ll have to roast you.” 

“What!? It’s not my fault if you fall!” Hawks whines, his tone exasperated.

“No one can witness that and live to tell the tale. Besides, it’d be your fault for not catching me,” Dabi retorts, leaning back against the railing with a shrug, clearly enjoying the reaction he’s getting.

When Hawks opens his mouth to respond, a rustling sound makes him snap his head around. His eyes dart around quickly, searching for the source of the noise. To his relief, it’s only a fox darting through the underbrush, the creature pauses for a moment, its bushy tail flicking curiously before it runs off into the trees. 

He releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and turns back to Dabi.

Dabi rolls his eyes. “No one comes out here.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Hawks retorts, his eyes scanning the area warily. He shifts slightly, trying to find a more secure position on the ledge.

“Most people who come here think it’s haunted. There’s a rumor about some kids seeing a zombie standing on the bridge at night,” Dabi says with a casual shrug. Hawks takes a moment to process this.

“So, you’re scaring kids now?” Hawks says with an unimpressed look, was that really necessary? He’s sure people already know Dabi is more than scary with the amount of ashes he’s left in his wake.

“I was minding my business,” Dabi replies with a dismissive gesture. “If my looks give kids the heebie-jeebies, that’s not my problem.”

They fall into a silence as Hawks continues to watch Dabi, his gaze lingering on every detail of Dabi’s appearance—his dark, spiky hair, the sharp lines of his face, and the intense glint in his eyes.

“It’s pretty scary,” Hawks finally says, breaking the stillness.

Dabi shifts his focus from the river below to Hawks, his brows knitting together in confusion. “What?”

Hawks shifts slightly, trying to find the right words. “Like, you’re intimidating, sure. But there’s something kind of captivating about it. You know, like when someone is so intimidating that it almost becomes… beautiful. It’s like, ‘woah, he’s so intense, it’s actually kind of mesmerizing’.” He chuckles awkwardly, feeling his cheeks flush slightly. “I guess it’s not exactly what you’d call a compliment, but it’s not meant to be an insult either.”

“That’s not a thing,” Dabi says after a moment of surprised silence, letting out a laugh that flows softly between them—filing the space around. His eyes still hold a hint of surprise as he looks at Hawks.

Hawks grins, unfazed by Dabi’s skepticism. “Oh, it totally is! Maybe I’m not putting it into words very well, but I’ve seen it happen. There are always people who find something fascinating about the terrifying or the dark. They’ll see someone horrendous and think, ‘Wow, They’re so scary, I love it!’ Swear it’s a thing!” He shrugs, his expression earnest. “I guess it’s just a matter of perspective.”

“Sure, Hawks,” Dabi says, his tone half-amused and half-skeptical.

“Really,” Hawks pushes, his voice earnest and his eyes reflecting a deep sincerity. “No matter how ugly someone might think they are, they are definitely someone’s type, there’s always someone out there who finds them attractive, who’ll love them, and I think that’s something great about the world.” His expression softens, filled with a quiet fondness as he speaks, his expression warm as if he truly believes his words.

Dabi hums, his laughter bubbling up and filling the air. As his amusement subsides, he looks at Hawks with a grin. “Thanks for the compliment, but don’t ever do that again. I can’t take you seriously when you start spouting off nonsense like that.”

Hawks frowns but doesn't press the issue. Instead, he looks at Dabi thoughtfully, the phrase "terrifyingly beautiful" echoing in his mind as he takes in the sight of other.

“Hey, what’s your excuse?” Dabi questions and Hawks tilts his head slightly in confusion.

“I got that goin for me, what’s your excuse for being plain ugly?”

Hawks frowns with an eye roll, “Gee thanks Dabi.”

“You’re welcome.”

Dabi eventually settles down, his laughter fading into a thoughtful silence. The dry riverbed below is a stark contrast to the lively conversation they’d been having. Dabi glances at the cracked earth and then turns his attention back to Hawks. 

“How much water do you think it’d take to fill this river back up?” he asks, his voice breaking the comfortable quiet that had settled between them.

Hawks peers over the edge, taking in the scene. The riverbed is littered with stones and overgrown with dead weeds. “A lot,” he replies, his gaze sweeping over the vast emptiness below. The sun casts a warm glow, making the dry landscape shimmer faintly.

“No shit,” Dabi responds sarcastically, his eyes reflecting the sunlight as he studies the scene. The bridge creaks slightly under their weight, adding to the stillness of the moment.

“Wanna make out?” Hawks blurts out impulsively, the words spilling from his lips before he can think better of them. 

Dabi’s head snaps around, “What?” he grits out, clearly caught off guard.

Hawks quickly recovers, forcing a grin and adopting a light, joking tone to mask his nerves. “Sorry, I meant to say you wanna go on a date?”

Despite his earlier decision to keep his feelings buried and focus on his mission, Hawks finds himself unable to suppress his emotions. Sue him, he’s a liar.

But he can’t help it, with the way Dabi gazes at the river, lost in thought with a sorrowful yet mesmerizing expression, tugs at Hawks’ heartstrings.

He wonders what thoughts or memories might be drifting through Dabi’s mind, causing him to fixate on the old riverbed below. The combination of Dabi’s striking appearance and his contemplative mood makes it nearly impossible for Hawks to resist expressing his feelings.

“What.”

Hawks clears his throat, trying to keep his tone light. “Wanna—”

“I heard you the first time.” Dabi sneers, his eyes narrowing. “Stop asking stupid questions.” He grumbles, pulling out his phone with a dismissive flick, purposefully avoiding Hawks’ gaze.

Hawks feels a pang of disappointment but tries to mask it with a casual shrug. The tension between them feels like it’s strung too tight, and he’s not sure if he’s crossed a line or if Dabi’s just being his usual difficult self. He glances at Dabi, whose focus is now entirely on his phone, and wonders if the moment of honesty he’d hoped for is lost.

“I’m leaving.” Dabi announces.  “The League can’t last thrity fucking minutes” he grumbles under his breath, standing up and easily hopping over the railing—leaving Hawks’ eyes glued to him.

“Can I come?”

Dabi glances at him briefly before averting his gaze. “No.”

“Alright, then. Tell Twice and Toga I said hi,” Hawks replies, forcing a casual tone as Dabi steps into one of Kurogiri’s portals, disappearing from view, Hawks is left sitting alone. A mix of relief and regret washes over him.

“Stupid.” he mutters to himself, frustration evident as he bangs his head against the railing.

3

“Hawks,” Mirko snaps, her voice sharp with irritation.

“Huh?” Hawks blinks, snapping out of his daze as he turns to face her.

“Did you hear a single thing I just said?” She stares at him, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“Uh… yeah,” he lies, nodding a bit too quickly.

Her eyes narrow in suspicion. “Oh really? Then what did I say?” Her tone drenched with sarcasm. 

Hawks shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “Uh… something important?” He tries, fully aware he’d already been caught.

Mirko gives him an unimpressed expression. “You’re unbelievable.” Rolling her eyes while tapping her foot.

"Your sidekicks have been trying to get your attention for twenty minutes," Mirko says, gesturing towards them. "They even faked a fight, and you didn't flinch. Seriously, what’s up with you, featherbrain? It’s no fun talking to someone who isn’t fully engaged."

Hawks blinks, snapping out of his daze. "Oh, sorry, guys!" He turns to his sidekicks, who stand by the door, they shrug it off reassuring him it’s okay.

"It’s fine," one of them says, though their expression is mildly concerned. "But you’re usually on top of things. What’s going on?"

Hawks pauses, glancing between them with a troubled expression. 

“Sorry, I’m just a bit distracted,” he mumbles.

Mirko raises an eyebrow. “A bit? That’s an understatement.”

Hawks contemplates whether to ask for their advice, knowing he could frame it in a way that avoids directly mentioning Dabi. “Do you guys think I’m objectively attractive?” he asks abruptly.

The question hangs in the air, all of them clearly caught off guard by the sudden question.They seem to weigh their words carefully before responding.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Hawks’s lips turn into a slight pout. “Ouch. That stings a bit,” he admits in a playful tone.

One of his sidekicks finally breaks the silence, their face turning a shade of pink. “It’s just… a little weird to call our boss attractive.” they mumble with an awkward smile. 

“No, seriously, I need your honest opinion. It’s important. It's a life or death situation.” Hawks exaggerates with a serious expression.

“Well y—”

“You’re pretty plain,” Mirko interrupts, her tone blunt. Hawks blinks in surprise, his eyebrows rising. 

“Really?” he asks, puzzled by her response.

She delivers a light smack to the back of his head, more playful than harsh. “I wish. What kind of question is that anyway? Have you seen the crowds that follow you? The number of people who practically swoon over you? If you’re fishing for compliments to stroke your ego, it’s not going to work here.”

“Okay, question,” Hawks begins, his expression thoughtful. “People usually go out with someone if they’re attractive, right?”

“Well, not always,” one of his sidekicks interjects. “Some people care more about personality.”

“My personality is great!” Hawks replies, flashing a confident grin.

“Not everyone would agree,” Mirko retorts with a shrug. “You might be annoying to some.”

Hawks’ grin falters, and he frowns, his mood dipping as he absorbs their responses.

“Really?

“Yeah, some people might find you a bit overwhelming,” Mirko says, her gaze steady. “What’s with all these questions anyway?”

Hawks hesitates, then asks, “If I ask someone out and they respond with, ‘Stop asking stupid questions,’ does that mean they rejected me?”

Suddenly, their eyes light up, and they crowd around him eagerly. “Who’d you ask out? Did they really reject you?”

“They rejected me?” Hawks repeats, his face falling.

“We need more context to be sure,” one of his sidekicks says, grinning.

“Yeah, act it out for us as accurately as you can,” another adds with excitement.

Hawks scrunches up his face as he replays the conversation, then begins acting it out. “Wanna make out?” He turns to one of his sidekicks, who looks stunned. “What!?”

“Yeah, that’s what he said!” Hawks grins. “How’d you know?”

“I’m pretty that would be anyone’s response.” Mirko deadpans, “Did you really say that?” Mirko scoffs in disbelief. “Just like that, out of the blue?

Hawks nods, looking a bit sheepish. “I didn’t mean to, but sometimes my mouth just... acts on its own,” he shrugs.

“Well, you’re certainly direct...” one of the sidekicks mumbles, clearly taken aback.

“Then what’d you say?” another sidekick asks eagerly. “Go on!”

Hawks clears his throat, mimicking the same tone and expression he had that day. “Sorry, I meant wanna go on a date?”

They all fall silent, their expressions ranging from bewildered to amused. After a moment, one of them breaks the silence, “You asked exactly like that?”

“Yep! Then he said what again. I tried to clarify myself but he cut me off saying ‘I heard you the first time. Stop asking stupid questions.’ Then he left me there feeling a bit stupid.” Hawks recounts with a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. “It was like he didn’t take me seriously at all.”

Mirko’s eyes narrow slightly as she processes his words. “Oh my, I wonder why,” she drawls with a heavy dose of sarcasm. 

Hawks’s face lights up with sudden hope. “You know why?” he asks, leaning forward eagerly.

“Yeah,” Mirko continues, her tone now more serious. “If that’s how you asked him, then honestly… you kind of came off like you were joking.”

Hawks’s hopeful expression falters. “Well, yeah. I was nervous. I didn’t want to seem too eager or desperate. And, just in case I got rejected, I figured I could play it off as a joke.” He explains as if it was completely obvious and reasonable.

“Well, he’d definitely believe you if you said it was a joke,” one of the sidekicks laughs awkwardly. The laughter, though light-hearted, only adds to Hawks’s mounting discomfort.

Hawks frowns deeply, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach.

“He probably didn’t take you seriously because he didn’t think you were being genuine. And honestly, if he does have feelings for you, it’s probably a bit hurtful for you to ask him out as if it were just a joke. It might come across as if the idea of going out with him is ridiculous.”

Hawks’s expression grows thoughtful, the gravity of their observations sinking in. He runs a hand through his hair, clearly distressed and confused.

“Maybe he did reject you, or maybe he just didn’t realize you were asking him out,” one of them shrugs, trying to offer some clarity.

Hawks looks reluctant, chewing over the idea. “So, how do I figure out if he actually likes me?”

“Well, does he find you attractive? Does he like your personality?” one of them questions, though their uncertainty is evident.

Hawks frowns. “He’s called me annoying on multiple occasions, but that’s just how he is, you know?”

They nod in understanding.

“Or maybe he really does find you annoying,” Mirko suggests, her tone blunt but honest.

“Well, I still got my looks going for me?” Hawks asks, hopeful.

“That is, if he finds you attractive,” one of the sidekicks responds with a grim but hopeful expression.

Hawks quickly pulls out his phone, and they crowd around him, eager to see. 

He’s relieved that he hasn’t saved Dabi’s contact under a real name, but rather a nickname, “hotstuff,” which doesn’t reveal much. 

The conversation history is mostly mundane—Dabi’s messages are often just locations or requests to meet up, while Hawks sends him memes and other things. 

Dabi usually leaves him on read or blocks him temporarily when he won’t stop spamming, sometimes, rarely, he’ll acknowledge the message by reacting with a thumbs up or thumbs down, usually the latter.

Hawks glances at his sidekicks, who cluster around him with a mix of curiosity and nervous energy. He hesitates for a moment, his thumb hovering over the type box before he types out a message and hits send. 

Hotstuff 🔥

Today 1:46 PM

Do you think I’m hot??

One of the sidekicks, eyes wide, leans in closer and whispers, “That’s definitely one way to find out. Bold, but definitely a way.”

Hawks chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and anxiety. “Why are you surprised? I’m very bold.” He grins.

The group watches intently as the screen remains still. The only sound is the soft hum of the office’s lights and the occasional rustle of papers. The air is thick with anticipation, each sidekick exchanging glances and small, excited smiles as they wait for Dabi’s response.

Hotstuff 🔥‼️

Today 1:46 PM

Do you think I’m hot??

Read 1:47 PM

The “typing” indicator flashes on and off the screen for about five minutes. 

“Hey, that’s a good sign, right?” one of the sidekicks says. “If he’s taking this long, it might mean he’s overthinking. He could be overthinking because he's nervous.”

Hawks watches the screen intently while nodding absentmindedly, trying to seem hopeful but anxiety lingers in the pit of his stomach.

Reaction: Thumbs Down

His phone pings and his sidekicks exchange worried looks, clearly concerned by the thumbs-down. Despite their reactions, Hawks grins widely, typing out his next message with an amused smile.

Hotstuff 🔥‼️

Today 1:46 PM

(👎🏻) Do you think I’m hot??

Okay, you're a liar. 

I know how charming I can be, you’re probably head over heels by now, right? 

You don’t have to be embarrassed about it, you wouldn’t be the first!! 🤗

But unlike you, I’m the most honest person alive

And personally I think you’re very hot, I’d totally sleep with you if given the opportunity.

Read 1:54 PM

Hawks’s grin widens as he waits for  the response. 

His sidekicks exchange surprised looks, one of them finally saying, “Wow, okay.”

“I’m such a great flirt, aren’t I?” Hawks says confidently.

They nod slowly, somewhat uncertainly. “Sure! You definitely get your point across.” They say with fake einthusan.

The next five minutes pass with no new reaction or typing indicator, making Hawks frown. He decides to send another message, hoping to stir some response.

Hotstuff 🔥‼️

Today 1:46 PM

(👎🏻) Do you think I’m hot??

Okay, you're a liar. 

I know how much you like me 😮‍💨

You don’t have to be embarrassed about it, you wouldn’t be the first. 🤗

But unlike you, I’m the most honest person alive🫡

I think you’re very hot, I’d totally sleep with you if given the opportunity.

Read 1:54 PM

Don’t leave me hanging man, I’m pouring my heart out to you here.. 🙁

Hawks gapes on belief as his message turns green, implying he’s been blocked. “He blocked me!?” He mutters, with a frustrated expression—he opens another the chat titled, ‘Mosquito🩸’

He doesn’t bother typing out a response instead calling her and she picks up almost immediately.

“Tell him to unblock me!” Hawks pleads into the phone, his voice tinged with frustration.

On the other end, Toga’s laughter bubbles up, clear and infectious. “Are you the reason he went up in flames? You owe us a new couch, you know!” Her voice is playful, but there’s a hint of genuine curiosity as she teases him. In the background, faint murmurs of her companions can be heard.

Hawks huffs, rubbing his forehead. “Yeah, yeah, just get him to unblock me!”

Toga’s laughter softens to a chuckle. “Alright,. I’ll see what I can do, but this isn’t free!! And don’t expect any miracles.”

Toga goes quiet for a moment, and Hawks waits patiently with bated breath. When she finally speaks, her tone is flat almost amused. “He says..” she clears her throat, attempting to mimic Dabi’s voice, “Go to hell.”

Hawks groans, rolling his eyes. “Aw man.” He pouts, though he doesn’t seem too bothered. “Tell him I take it back, he’s really ugly. Didn’t mean for him to get so pissy.” He says in an almost mocking and teasing voice.

Toga relays the message with a giggle, “He ignored me, well you. You’re on speaker.” She informs with an amused hum, clearly enjoying this.

He grins at this as his expression turns dramatic, his voice rising in theatrical pitch. “Tell him I’ll jump off a building without any wings!” He sniffs for added effect.

There’s a brief pause, Hawks can hear a mumble which he assumes is Dabi before Toga’s voice comes back, slightly teasing. “He says to take a video.”

Hawks winces dramatically, “Ouch! Thanks anyway!”

Toga’s voice comes back, firm. “You owe me!”

Hawks grins, “You got it!”

He hangs up the call and turns to his sidekicks, who had been straining to catch every word. “So?”

They all shrug, exchanging uncertain looks. “I don’t know. It sounds like he still isn’t taking you seriously.”

“Maybe he’s just really dense,” Mirko shrugs, her tone casual.

4

Hawks replayed every semi-confession, each one more obvious than the last, and yet Dabi never seemed to catch on. The initial wave of frustration washed over him—how many times did he have to spell it out? But as the confusion faded, curiosity took its place. How dense could one person be? 

He lied down on his bed, eyes drifting to the ceiling as a half-smile crept onto his face. It was almost like a challenge now—how many more hints could he drop before Dabi realized? 

“He’s either the most oblivious guy alive or he’s doing this on purpose.” Hawks mutters to himself, rubbing his temples, the thought both maddening and oddly amusing. 

It was probably the former, Hawks admitted to himself, throwing an arm over his eyes. Those three instances weren’t the only times Hawks had flirted with him. 

Even before realizing his feelings, Hawks would casually throw in flirty comments whenever they met, testing the waters, but Dabi never responded the way he hoped. Most times, he’d just shoot Hawks a confused look or, worse, seem annoyed like he couldn’t quite figure out what Hawks was playing at. 

Thinking back, Hawks cringed at how obvious he’d been, dropping line after line that anyone else would’ve picked up on. Yet, Dabi seemed completely oblivious when it came to this. Either Dabi was so wrapped up in his own world that he didn’t notice, or he genuinely had no idea Hawks’ teasing was anything more than just that—banter.

Now, Hawks found himself less concerned about confessing his feelings and more entertained by testing how direct he could be with Dabi before getting brushed off again. How far could he push it before Dabi finally caught on or snapped? 

There was a strange thrill in it, like a game he couldn’t resist. The longer Dabi shrugged off his advances, the more determined Hawks would become. It wasn't even about the rejection anymore; it was about how blatantly he could flirt without Dabi taking him seriously. 

He just wanted to see just how far he could go before Dabi realized—or didn’t. 

The next time Hawks tries again, it’s at the League’s base. Toga had been begging Dabi to bring him around for weeks, and though Dabi finally caved, he refused to admit it was because he had any sort of soft spot for her. 

Spinner and Shigaraki were engrossed in another one of their video games, the occasional grunt or frustrated exclamation breaking the otherwise quiet air. Toga sat beside Shigaraki, glued to her phone, typing away furiously. Hawks and Twice were squished next to her on the couch, sharing space in a cramped but oddly cozy corner. On the opposite end, Mr. Compress leaned comfortably next to Spinner, his mask reflecting the flickering light from the TV, occasionally glancing at the game, though his interest seemed half-hearted.

At the bar, Kurogiri quietly served Dabi a drink, the sound of ice clinking against glass filled the brief silence between the occasional banter and the hum of the game.

Hawks glanced around the room, eyes settling on Dabi’s back as he sipped his drink, wondering when his next chance to push the other’s buttons would come.

Hawks gives a distracted hum to Twice, signaling that he’s listening, even though his attention is clearly elsewhere. His gaze keeps drifting toward Dabi, who remains comfortably situated at the bar, absorbed in his drink.

At some point, Hawks notices Twice has stopped talking and feels Toga’s gaze fixed on him. He turns toward her with a grin, ready for whatever she might say. 

“Yes?” he prompts.

“You know, you’re not very subtle with your love eyes,” Toga says knowingly.

“Young love, isn't it sweet!?” Twice clasps his hands together with a dramatic flair, then he switches in a second, “It’s sickening!”

Hawks chuckles lightly at Twice’s comment, then turns to Toga. “To anyone but him,” he says with amusement.

“Well, have you actually tried?” Toga inquires, her gaze sharp.

Shigaraki grumbles from beside her, his irritation evident. “Can you not do that now? We’re in the middle of something.”

“Just because you can’t confess to your guy doesn’t mean you should get in the way of others trying!” Toga whines, her expression growing annoyed.

Shigaraki shoots her a sharp glare. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re both making me feel sick.”

“You’re interested in someone?” Spinner asks after a moment of silence. 

Shigaraki, barely looking up from the game, responds bluntly, “No.”

Spinner nods, dropping the subject as Shigaraki refocuses on the game.

“Have I tried?” Hawks repeats, turning his attention back to Toga. “Yes, I have. I think I’ve been more than obvious. It’s honestly getting embarrassing at this point.” He grumbles, feeling a flush of embarrassment as the memories of his failed attempts resurface.

“Take a hint; he’s rejecting you,” Shigaraki interjects.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s just bitter,” Toga shoots back, glaring at Shigaraki.

Hawks sticks his tongue out at Shigaraki in response. Shigaraki catches the gesture out of the corner of his eye and scowls, “What are you, five?”

“Calls coming from inside the house,” Hawks retorts with a grin.

“I’m not claiming Tomura’s words to be true, but some people do pretend to be oblivious when they’re confessed to because they can’t bring themselves to reject the other person directly. They hope the other will eventually give up after a while of them acting stupid.” Mr. Compress observes thoughtfully.

“No, boss is right, Dabi doesn’t like you.” Spinner says with unwavering certainty, and Shigaraki gives a nod, a smirk playing on his lips. “Of course I am.”

Hawks rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, “And I’m the five year old.”

“Don’t listen to them, Hawks! If Dabi wanted to reject you, he wouldn’t be afraid to do so!” Twice chimes in, “He’s cruel, he’d probably enjoy crushing someone’s heart!” His tone is oddly cheerful, almost as if he’s proud of his own harsh observation.

“Thanks, man.” Hawks offers a genuine smile, and Twice’s face lights up with pride as he grins in response.

“Show me,” Toga insists, her eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and excitement. Hawks blinks, momentarily thrown off.

“Go on, give it a shot! I want to see you be as clear as possible! Be as serious and sincere as possible!” she encourages, her voice tinged with anticipation

Spinner and Shigaraki exchange glances, clearly more invested now. Spinner grumbles, “Do that on your own time,” but he and Shigaraki both secretly pause their game, trying not to seem interested as they quietly watching with newfound interest. Shigaraki's gaze flickers with a mix of annoyance and curiosity, while Spinner looks both intrigued and slightly amused.

“You got this, man!!” Twice calls out, his voice dripping with encouragement as Hawks stands up. “He’s gonna make a fool of himself.”

“Are you recording this?” Shigaraki asks, eyeing Toga.

Toga grins and gives a quick nod, “Obviously.” her phone already out and aimed at Hawks. 

“Good,” Shigaraki mutters, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes as he leans back and watches with a smirk. Spinner shifts in his seat, clearly intrigued as well.

Hawks eventually approaches Dabi, standing beside him and watching as Dabi traces the rim of his glass with his index finger. For a few minutes, they remain silent—Hawks studying Dabi’s profile and Dabi growing increasingly impatient with Hawks’ silence, his irritation evident in the tightening of his jaw.

“Are they… gonna say anything?” Mr. Compress asks, looking between them with a raised eyebrow.

“They’re fucking dumbasses,” Shigaraki scoffs, rolling his eyes. The others nod in agreement, clearly exasperated.

Dabi eventually turns to face Hawks, his expression sharp and his eyes flashing with irritation. “Are you just gonna stand there? What the hell do you want?” he snaps, clearly fed up with Hawks’ lack of speech.

“I want you.” Hawks says, his voice steady and serious, devoid of any teasing or joking undertones. His expression is unwavering, meeting Dabi’s gaze with sincerity.

In the background, one of the members starts coughing uncontrollably, and Kurogiri nearly drops the glass he's holding, quickly turning away to mask his reaction, trying to seem like he’s not listening but not doing a very good job.

A million emotions flash across Dabi's face, but every one remains unreadable to Hawks. 

Finally, Dabi’s expression darkens, and he snarls, “I wonder what’s wrong with you a lot of times. Still it remains an unsolved mystery.”

Hawks tilts his head slightly in confusion. “Wha—”

“Do you ever know when to stop messing around?” Dabi snaps, his eyes hardening with anger. 

Hawks frowns, his voice steady. “Do I sound like I’m joking?”

Dabi's eyes widen just a fraction, the change barely noticeable to anyone other than Hawks, but his expression still remains tight with anger. 

“Hawks.”

“That’s my name, baby.” Hawks winks, he just couldn’t resist the joke! Okay!? It was right there!

After a tense pause, Dabi seems to regain his composure, his expression shifting. Without warning, he grabs his glass and hurls the contents—ice and alcohol—straight into Hawks' face. The cold sting and burning sensation are immediate blinding him and causing Hawks to wince and stagger back, clutching his face in pain.

Hawks hears the sound of retreating footsteps growing fainter, followed by the sharp slam of a door. 

Hawks stumbles back, his eyes stinging from the icy splash of alcohol. His hands fly up to his face, rubbing furiously in a frantic attempt to clear his vision. The cold, sharp burn makes him wince, his breaths coming out in sharp gasps.

“Holy shit, man! What the hell!?” he exclaims, his voice strained and pained. Kurogiri swiftly moves to his side. With a steady hand, he places a gentle grip on Hawks’ shoulder, guiding him behind the bar.

“Allow me to help,” Kurogiri says calmly, his voice soothing amid the chaos. Kurogiri carefully guides Hawks’ head towards the sink, the cool water running steadily. Hawks leans into the stream, letting out a sigh of relief as the water flushes away the remnants of alcohol and soothes the burning in his eyes.

Kurogiri grabs a small bottle of eye drops from his coat pocket, gently squeezing them into Hawks’ eyes. The drops bring a cooling, numbing sensation, further easing the discomfort. 

As Kurogiri works, the room’s atmosphere shifts from one of tense confrontation to an awkward, muted concern, with members of the league watching in a mix of shock and uncertainty.

Kurogiri continues to tend to Hawks, his own gaze shifting toward the now-empty spot where Dabi had been.

Hawks blinks several times, his vision slowly clearing as the irritation subsides. He glances at Kurogiri with gratitude, his expression softening as he finally starts to regain his composure. 

Hawks, still wincing from the stinging pain, turns to Toga with a questioning look. "I don't know, Toga. You think that was clear enough?" His voice is strained, and he squints as he speaks.

“Um, yeah... I think so,” Toga replies hesitantly.

Mr. Compress murmurs quietly. “Perhaps Tomura was right.”

Shigarki gives a curt nod, “Told you so.”

5

Over the next few weeks, the atmosphere between Hawks and Dabi grows increasingly strained. 

Before sometimes Dabi would request to meet up for the pettiess things, he’d do things like make Hawks go back and forth fetching him drinks, food, items, etc. and he would always claim he was only testing Hawks’ loyalty but they both knew he really just enjoyed having control over Hawks, and you would think that Hawks would get annoyed by this but no he enjoyed it just as much as Dabi did.

Now when they meet, it’s for strictly business. Dabi only reaches out when he needs information, and their meetings are brief and focused solely on the task at hand. 

Dabi’s interactions are curt, and he quickly departs after collecting what he needs

Hawks tries to adjust to the new cold dynamic with Dabi but he struggles to do so, he feels overwhelmed with guilt at Dabi’s behavior. 

Everytime Dabi turns to leave after getting what he wants, igrnoring Hawks when he tries to engage in any other conversation, it leaves Hawks seething with angry—he resists the urge to yell at the other for pretending this is normal.

Hawks' visits to the League of Villains have ceased entirely. Dabi, who used to drag him along to their hideout with a mixture of reluctance and obligation, is no longer making an effort. 

The sudden absence of these visits leaves a void in Hawks' routine.

Despite this, Hawks still maintains contact with some members of the League. Mr. Compress and Kurogiri occasionally text him, offering brief check-ins and updates. Twice and Toga, on the other hand, have been particularly persistent.

Their calls are frequent and filled with a mix of concern and determination. Toga's pleas are heartfelt and direct, while Twice's calls are overflowing with enthusiasm and over-the-top encouragement, both urging Hawks to mend things with Dabi. 

Toga often mentions how much everyone misses Hawks. Even Spinner and Shigarki, though they wouldn't admit it openly, are apparently feeling the absence. (Hawks isn’t too sure he can trust Toga’s words though, she’s a great manipulator when wanting something.)

Toga has claimed that Shigarki’s mood has soured since the fallout between the two. At one point, Shigarki snapped at Dabi, his frustration evident. "Stop being a bitch and make up with your boyfriend!" he had growled.

Dabi's reaction to Shigaraki's outburst was predictably fiery—he responded by nearly incinerating Shigaraki.

Toga had commented with a hint of amusement, “I think Shiggys just bummed that he has no one to pick on anymore. The rest of us have gotten used to his antics. ”

Hawks responded with a chuckle, “Aww!! Tell him I love him too!” 

Hawks stares into the mirror mid brush when his phone pings with a dreadful yet familiar chime.

Anxiety and anticipation pool in the pit of stomach as he resumes brushing his teeth, scrubbing a bit too aggressively as blood and foam drip down into the sink.

He bites back a sigh as he rinses out his mouth and washes off his toothbrush, placing it back in its placeholder.

He stares at his lit up screen phone as he dries his hands, he was ready to go to bed—tuck himself into bed and call it a night, but of course he has to put that on hold now, like he does everything in his life, for Dabi.

He swipes up and opens the message, a location attached with a message.

I don’t have time for two weeks.

Hawks rubs at the back of his neck tiredly, he steps into his bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind him with a click. He reaches for the stack of files on his bedside, he flicks through them quickly and clicks his tongue, unfortunately the data was incomplete.

Because he assumed he wouldn't hear a word from the other until the two week timer was up but Dabi wasn’t exactly known for his patience.

He stands in his sleepwear with a sigh, it was evident that he wasn’t expecting Dabi to summon him, he’s honestly too tired to change into something more presentable so he just throws a jacket over it and slides into his shoes.

The location isn’t far from his penthouse; he arrives at the abandoned warehouse within five minutes, the place reeks of old age and mold.

His landing is swift and practiced, he tucks his wings neatly behind him. “Dabi?” Hawks calls out as he steps into the building,  his sharp eyes scanning his surroundings before landing on the familiar figure.

Their eyes meet, Dabi’s cold and unreadable—he doesn’t give hawks a response just a tense long stare that makes Hawks’ stomach turn.

He shakes it off as he approaches him slowly, his thick boots clicking softly against the dusty concrete floor, he stops in front of him and hands him the folder, “It’s not all of it.” Hawks informs in an even voice despite how unsettled he feels, when Dabi snatches the stack from him, not sparing him another glance.

“Why not?” Dabi quips with furrowed eyebrows, his voice sharp, he keeps his eyes trained on the papers as he reads over the contents with interest.

“Because I was promised a two week deadline but someone cut it short.” Hawks chides with the fakest smile he can muster, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and Dabi glances at him briefly with annoyance, muttering something under his breath before going back to observing the files.

“What?” Hawks screws up his face in confusion when he catches the corners of Dabi’s lips quirking upward for a second. 

“Cute pajamas.” Dabi says with a voice full of mockery.

Hawks pouts, looking down at what he thinks is super awesome pajamas, “I didn’t have time to change, alright? Plus there’s nothing wrong with it, Hello Kitty is cool.” He attempts to defend himself but he can’t help the blush that creeps onto his face.

“Mhm.” Dabi hums absentmindedly as he turns to another page, “Sure she is.” He says with feigned agreement, his eyes still glued to the documents.

They lapse into silence again and Hawks feels just a little less tense, he stands still and keeps his eyes fixed on Dabi as the other absorbs everything he reads.

Dabi’s eyes flicker up to Hawks’s face, meeting Hawks’ expectant gaze, finding him already staring, caught off guard, his gaze darts back to the papers, a subtle shift of discomfort in the air.

“How’s your eye?” Dabi asks quietly, his voice echoing softly in the empty space. The moonlight streaming through of the cracked roof casts an eerie glow, highlighting the unease in Dabi’s features.

Hawks raises an eyebrow, trying to maintain a casual tone. “Bit late to be asking that, don’t you think?” He catches the way Dabi’s gaze flicks to the faint scar beneath his eye, the result of the ice Dabi had thrown at him.

Dabi’s eyes narrow into a glare—his eyelids drooping slightly. “Forget it.” He mutters with a  dismissive huff, turning back to reviewing the files, his expression closed off.

Hawks sighs softly, a wry smile gracing his lips. “It’s fine, thank you for making an effort to ask. That was probably hard for you, huh?” He replies, his tone light.

Dabi only rolls his eyes in response.

Dabi shuts the file close with a soft thud, his gaze sharp, “Get me the rest of it.” He shoves the folder against Hawks’ chest, “By tomorrow.” He clarifies.

Hawks fingers wrap around Dabi’s wrist before he can pull it back, the skin warm. “After tomorrow.” He counters, his grip firm but gentle.

Hawks doesn’t think he’s ever touched Dabi without his gloves adorning his hands—the skin is surprisingly nice to touch, the texture of the scarred flesh isn’t too rough and the healthy not too smooth, it’s a pleasant feel and Hawks can’t help flicking his thumb across the skin to feel the abrupt switch.

Dabi’s eyes glow with irrational though he remains still. Hawks can feel Dabi’s skin rapidly growing warmer under Hawks’ touch, which piques his curiosity as he rubs over the skin.

“Tomorrow.” Dabi repeats, his voice grows noticeably thicker than before.

“I can’t rush it Dabi.” Hawks sighs, though his tone grows softer. “They’re already suspicious of me constantly gathering information I usually have no interest in.” 

“Fine. After tomorrow, not a day later.” Dabi concedes reluctantly and Hawks nods in acknowledgment.

“Thank you, wasn’t so hard, was it?” He questions with satisfaction as he, sadly, releases Dabi’s wrist, he watches as the other quickly tucks the hand in his pocket.

Without a word, he turns on his heel, his footsteps echoing in the warehouse as he leaves.

Hawks lets out a deep sigh, his breath stuttering as he exhales. He covers his mouth with a hand, his face flushing bright red as he glances down to the floor, his heartbeat pounding in his ear.

Two days pass in a swift blur, the hours slipping through Hawks fingers like sand and despite how much Hawks tries to drag out his days, time seems to be moving faster than he is.

Each tick of the clock causes a new knot to form inside his stomach, and he tries his hardest to keep himself distracted, occupied with work but no matter how slow he thinks he is working, he finishes a new case faster than he’d like.

Before he knows it, he has nothing else to work on and It leaves him with too much time to think.

Dabi’s eyes, the way he felt so trapped under them then. The way the warmth radiated off his skin and traveled onto Hawks’, by the end of it Hawks was sure Dabi had managed to warm every inch of his blood, and the tension, there was some, wasn’t there?

And Hawks doesn’t believe it was due to the fact they were on thin ice lately, it was something heavier, something more.

Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.Dabi.

It drives him mad as the name seems to be the only thing his brain wants to work around, he tries his hardest to think of other things, food, work, activities, other heroes, the commission, anything. But it all keeps circling back to Dabi, his mind rejects any other thought, refusing to let them even enter.

He can’t explain why his head is doing this, he doesn’t know why he can’t stop thinking of Dabi or why he feels so nervous for their upcoming encounter, cold sweat breaking out across the back of his neck.

It makes no sense, nothing ever happened that night but, at the same time, it feels like everything did.

He can’t shake off the feel of Dabi’s wrist under his fingers, the faint thrum of his pulse, the feel of his unusual skin, the heat of it all. It haunts him.

Hawks flinches at the buzz of his phone, Dabi’s contact name flashing brightly against the dim light of the room.

Where are you?

The message is short, blunt and Hawks can sense a hint of irritation in it. 

He feels his heart sink as the words glare into his phone screen, his eyes flick to the clock, he accidentally lost track of time in his thoughts. He bites his lip, forcing himself to respond quickly.

On my way!

The location is the bridge again and Hawks doesn’t register when he lands beside Dabi, his mind still running a mile a minute.

Two pair of fingers come into his field of vision and snap, a faint blue light flashing between them before evaporating.

Hawks blinks, breaking out of his daze, as he slowly realizes Dabi had been speaking to him, “Sorry, got distracted.” Hawks clears his throat, his focus shifting to the villain standing in front of him with an icy expression, one that’s akin to the biting night air.

“Clearly. Where is it?” Dabi questions, a sharp edge to his voice as he cuts to the chase.

Hawks brain struggles to catch up as confusion clouds his eyes. “Where’s what?” He asks before it dawns on it. “Oh..Shoot!” His face falls as his eyes drift to his empty hands, lacking the files.

Dabi’s eyes narrows further, his body stiffening. “Are you serious?” His expression tightens and Hawks fidgets nervously, his wings drooping under Dabi’s scrutiny.

“Look, I’m sorry, I got distracted seriously I didn’t mean—“ He starts, fumbling for an excuse but he can see the fury simmering in Dabi’s eyes, an anger no excuse will ease.

Dabi scowls, his voice laced with frustration. “Sorry doesn’t get me what I need, birdbrain. How the hell did you forget it? Your only job is to get us intel when we need it, the only reason we keep you around, and you somehow showed up empty-handed?”

Hawks frowns, feathers bristling defensively. “I said I’m sorry.” His voice is quieter and sharper than usual.

“I needed that, Hawks.” Dabi’s voice was ice-cold, eyes narrowing as he glared at Hawks.

Hawks frowns, matching his expression with frustration of his own. “Look, you’re pissed off, but I don’t think it’s because of me. So how about you direct that anger at whoever actually got you in this mood?” His wings twitch as his eyebrows furrow in irritation.

Dabi’s lip curls, his voice dropping dangerously. “You think this has nothing to do with you? You screwed up.”

Hawks doesn’t back down, meeting Dabi’s venomous expression with his own. “I said I’m sorry, Dabi. You’re pissed, I get it, but this isn’t just about the files. You wouldn’t blow up like this over something so small.”

Dabi scoffs, a sharp, humorless sound. “Oh, you know me so well now?” His face screws up even further, but Hawks can see a flicker of something else in his eye—something more raw, vulnerable.

Hawks raises an eyebrow, a mix of frustration and concern etched in his face. “If you’re really so upset about the files, then I can fly us back to my apartment and you can get it.” He offers.

It’s silent for a heartbeat, the air between them tense and heated before Dabi looks away from him.

“I’m not flying with you.” His voice is firm and sharp, but there is a hint of something more.

“That’s fine, we can walk too,” Hawks shrugs, his tone casual despite the tension. Dabi’s eyes flicker around the bridge, avoiding Hawks’s gaze as he remains silent for a moment.

“I can’t. I have other things to do,” Dabi finally says, his voice tight.

“But since they’re so important to you, I’m sure you’d want them as soon as possible, yeah?” Hawks purrs out, his tone almost coaxing as he steps closer, his presence challenging. He watches as Dabi’s jaw tightens, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“Fine,” Dabi finally concedes, his tone begrudging. Hawks nods, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face.

The walk to Hawks's apartment is thick with unspoken tension. The silence between them is heavy, both lost in their thoughts, the air charged with a mix of frustration and something more complicated. Neither makes an attempt to break the silence, their focus locked on the path ahead.

When they reach the front of Hawks's building, he turns to Dabi, his expression serious. “I have to fly us up now,” he says, his tone firm. “The only reason no one has recognized you yet is because we’ve been moving quickly. If we take the elevator, we'll be exposed for too long, and someone might notice and identify you.”

Dabi’s face tightens for a moment, as if he’s forcing himself to stay calm. “Okay,” he mutters, clearly unhappy but accepting.

“So… how are we doing this?” Hawks asks after a brief, awkward pause, unsure of how to approach the situation.

“What does that even mean? Just get it over with,” Dabi snaps, his voice sharp. 

Hawks shuffles closer to Dabi, his movements slow and cautious, as if he is approaching a stray cat, stopping behind him and hesitantly extending his arm, wrapping around it Dabi’s waist.

Neither of them say a word, and the silence grows louder with every passing second. Hawks isn’t sure if it’s his own heartbeat or Dabi’s that’s pounding in his ears—most likely his. The closeness feels unnatural, and he struggles to focus on the task at hand. 

The tension is palpable, heavy enough that it could suffocate them, Hawks can feel every movement in Dabi’s body as he presses his chest against the other’s back. His whole body is stiff as board, his discomfort evident.

Hawks opens his mouth to say something, but then he closes it, unsure.

Hawks sighs, his breath heavy tickling the back of Dabi’s neck. "It’d probably help if you turned around and held on," he offers, trying to make the situation just a little less uncomfortable.

Dabi’s response is immediate, sharp as a blade. “No.”

Hawks bites back a chuckle at the clipped refusal, the tension still lingering in the air. "Alright," he mutters, pulling the villain closer and tightening his grip as he stretches out his wings.

One beat then two and they’re off the ground, the wind whistles loudly in the air as they move in the air but the silence seems to be louder.

Mid-flight Dabi has a change of heart as he turns around in a swift and panicked motion, gripping onto Hawks tightly, his arms locking around Hawks’ neck like a lifeline.

Hawks flaters in surprise for a second before quickly adjusting to the changed position, quickly steadying them both easily, wings shifting.

“Changed your mind?” He questions with amusement, his lips quirking up into a teasing smirk.

Dabi doesn’t respond, eyes fixed on the horizon, but Hawks is pretty sure he’s glaring.

Hawks touches down softly, their feet hitting the rooftop with a barely audible thud. He waits for Dabi to release him, but the villain's grip remains firm, almost unyielding. Hawks glances down at him, feeling the tension radiating from his body.

“All passengers aboard, we’ve landed safely,” Hawks announces in a mock pilot’s tone.

“Shut up,” Dabi sighs, trying to mask his discomfort. Hawks can’t help but grin, “Who would’ve thought big, scary Dabi is afraid of heights?”

“I’m not afraid of heights,” Dabi hisses, his voice strained. “I get motion sick, asshole. Give me a minute.” He mutters, pressing his forehead against Hawks’ shoulder as he tries to steady his breathing. His hot breath brushes Hawks’ skin with each exhale, adding more tension and intimacy to the moment.

As they stand there in each other’s hold, Hawks feels a sudden, overwhelming impulse. "I’m in love with you," he blurts out, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Dabi tenses at the confession. The moment stretches in silence before Dabi abruptly pulls away, his expression unreadable. "Where are the files?" he demands, completely ignoring Hawks' confession.

Hawks stares at Dabi, his expression a mess of exasperation and hurt. His eyes narrow, and his jaw clenches as he processes Dabi’s reaction. He swallows hard, fighting back the surge of frustration bubbling up inside him.

What the hell.

Maybe Shigarki was right because how much more obvious could he be!?

Dabi, apparently oblivious to the emotional turmoil he’s caused, snaps his fingers sharply. “Hawks,” he says with a clipped tone, clearly growing impatient.

Hawks takes a deep breath, forcing his face into a neutral mask despite the turmoil inside. “Come on,” he replies, his voice flat but carrying a hint of forced calm. 

He moves down into his apartment, ignoring the ache in his chest.

Neither of them speak as they step into Hawks' apartment. Dabi’s eyes scan the cluttered space, taking in the scattered cases. “What the hell were you doing?” he asks, his tone laced with both curiosity and criticism.

“Working,” Hawks replies, his gaze focused on Dabi as he retrieves the folder from a nearby table. He hands it over with a slight edge to his voice.

Dabi opens the folder and starts to read, his eyes scanning the first page. Hawks watches him intently, noting how the villain spends an unusually long time on a single page. 

Five minutes pass, and Hawks can’t help but think that even the slowest reader would have finished that page by now. 

Hawks opens his mouth to ask if Dabi is even reading the file or just staring, but Dabi’s eyes snap up to meet his, making him freeze. The sudden intensity in Dabi’s gaze catches him off guard, and for a moment, the words get stuck in his throat. Dabi’s expression is unreadable, his gaze unflinching as if he’s searching for something in Hawks’ face.

Hawks barely registers the sudden movement before Dabi is in front of him, their faces inches apart. Dabi’s lips crash against his with a fierce, hurried intensity, catching Hawks completely off guard. 

Hawks’ eyebrows knit together in confusion and his eyes widen in shock at the sensation of Dabi’s lips moving against his, when Dabi swipes his tongue against Hawks’ lower lip he realizes he should be kissing back.

His mind races with questions but he pushes them aside instead savoring and enjoying the moment.

He parts his lips slightly and Dabi’s tongue enters his mouth, their tongue pressing and twisting around each other in a heated dance, the kiss is desperate and needy.

Dabi’s hands are fisted in Hawks’ shirt, grasping it as if to steady himself. Hawks’s hands travel up to Dabi’s hair, fingers roaming through the dark strands, savoring the texture without the fear of Dabi waking up this time.

The kiss grows more passionate as Dabi yanks Hawks’ even closer which causes their teeth to clash with a sharp painful impact, the pain momentarily cutting though their haze, despite this neither pull away instead it feels like they grip each other even tighter if that’s possible.

The world outside seems to disappear as Dabi hands move around Hawks’ body, his movements frantic and searching.

The urgency in his touch shows a deep seated desire, his hand slipping under Hawks’ shirt as if trying to absorb him.

Hawks sighs into the kiss, their bodies pressed against each other as they move with raw intensity, unable to stay still.

Their inability to stop moving causes them to collapse onto the floor—their foreheads colliding with each other, an aching sensation.

“Shit,” Dabi mutters against Hawks' mouth, causing the avian to grin despite the sudden turn of events, but it seems whatever hunger had struck Dabi is suddenly gone as he abruptly stands, turning away with a visible effort to regain his composure. 

The sudden shift leaves Hawks on the floor, his heart still racing, as he watches Dabi back with a hazy and heated expression.

“Thanks.” Dabi clears his throat, holding up the file before swiftly turning and walking away.

Hawks, still on the floor and disoriented, blinks in confusion. “Wait, what?” he calls after Dabi, watching him leave without any explanation.

+1

Dabi goes radio silent after that encounter. Hawks finds himself increasingly frustrated, especially since it seems Dabi no longer needs any information from him. 

What is wrong with him!?

Hawks had considered texting Dabi more than once, his fingers hovering over the keyboard, but each time, he wasn’t sure what to say. What could he say? Nothing seemed right, so he’d abandoned the idea. 

This goes on for a few more days before Hawks can no longer take the suspense. True, Dabi was always the one to drag him to the League, but that didn’t mean he needed Dabi's permission to show up. He knows the others would be happy to see him.

Toga and Twice had been whining and urging him to come by, Mr compress and Kurogiri constantly expressed that he was always welcoming. With each second the idea grows stronger in his mind before he finally decides. Screw it. 

Hawks stands up abruptly in the middle of a meeting with his sidekicks. “Hawks-san?” they ask, confusion evident on their faces as they watch him grab his jacket.

“I’m going to take the day off. Will you guys be fine?” he asks, and the room falls into a stunned silence as they  exchange surprised glances. 

“What’s wrong? Are you sick? No, you wouldn’t even take a break if you were sick,” one of them mutters under their breath.

“Has the sun exploded? No, you’d try to prevent that.”

“Have aliens invaded Earth? No, you’d help deal with that…” another adds, their tone dripping with mock seriousness.

Hawks frowns deeply, shaking his head as they continue coming up with absurd scenarios. "Oh, come on! You’re all being dramatic.”

“You literally never take a day off,” one of his sidekicks points out, raising an eyebrow. "So yeah, it's a little dramatic."

"You never take a break! You should do it more often! Go, go!" One of them waves him off with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Hawks pouts, crossing his arms. "Wow, you guys are eager to get rid of me."

“But seriously, are you okay?” One of them asks, concern in their voice.

Hawks scoffs, waving them off. “I’m fine! I’m just going to pursue love!” He declares loudly, striking a pose, which earns a few snickers from his sidekicks.

“You’re still trying with that guy?”

“Yeah! I can feel it in my bones—today will be the day he swoons for me!” Hawks grins, but his confidence only makes them laugh harder.

“Good luck, boss!” Another one calls out. “Just don’t come back heartbroken!” 

“No problem.” Hawks throws up a thumbs up as he steps halfway through the door, flashing his signature grin. 

Hawks lands gracefully inside the League’s hideout, sliding through the window with ease. “Who’s missed me?” he calls out with a cocky grin.

“Hawks!” Twice exclaims, excitement lighting up his face before quickly switching to a scowl. “No one’s missed you, moron!” 

Hawks laughs, used to the chaotic energy. "Aw, are you sure? Pretty sure you were the one crying about how much you missed me." He puts on an exaggerated thinking face, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Twice scowls, though there's a glint of amusement in his eyes. "That was me, wasn’t it?" He mutters.

"No it wasn’t!" Twice insists, his voice rising.

“Hawksie! You made up with Dabi—San?” Toga questions.

“Uh, sure,” he replies, keeping his tone light despite the uncertainty in his eyes. 

Toga grins, clearly pleased with his answer. “I’m so glad to hear that! He’s been a grump lately.”

She says while approaching him and grabbing a knife behind him, handing it out to him. “Look what I made while you were gone!”

He takes the dagger, studying it carefully. The wooden handle is intricately carved with his name, filled in with a striking red. Around the name are small, poorly drawn wings—some ripped apart, others bleeding, one even seems to be set on fire.

Hawks raises an eyebrow but manages a smile. “This is definitely something. Thanks, Toga. I appreciate the... unique touch.”

“Whose blood is this?” he asks, his voice tinged with curiosity and hint of unease.

“Yours, of course!”

Hawks forces a nervous laugh. “Uh, when did you do that?”

“Obviously, I can’t tell you that.”

“Right…” Hawks nods, still eyeing the dagger. He turns to Kurogiri, who has just entered, and waves. 

“Hello Hawks, it’s nice to see you,” Kurogiri says with a nod of acknowledgment. 

Hawks smiles back warmly. “Thanks, you too.”

Hawks follows Twice and Toga to the couch, sinking into its cushions with a relieved sigh. “Where are the others?” he asks, glancing around the room, which is unusually quiet.

Twice flops down beside him, adjusting his masks. “Sleep,” he says with a dramatic wave of his hand, “They left to avoid you.”

Hawks raises an eyebrow. “This time of day?”

“Well,” Toga chimes in, stretching out and adjusting her position on the couch, “We got into a bit of trouble yesterday, so a lot of them are dead asleep from exhaustion.”

“Ah.” Hawks acknowledges, his gaze drifting around the room. For a while, the conversation flows between him, Twice, and Toga, with Kurogiri occasionally chiming in with comments or observations.

Eventually, Mr. Compress steps into the common room. “I knew you two would make up soon enough.” he says when he spots Hawks.

Hawks smiles at him, feeling awkward. “Yeah..”

Mr. Compress disappears into the kitchen, and Hawks purses his lips thoughtfully. Was it wrong to let them all think he and Dabi were on good terms? Nah, he thinks to himself, the truth was far more complicated, and he wasn’t in the mood to explain it—not yet anyway.

He leans back on the couch, folding his arms behind his head and shifting his gaze to watch as Toga playfully tosses a knife in the air, only for Twice to fumble and catch it awkwardly.

“What’s he doing here?” Spinner mutters, stepping into the room with a scowl on his face. Shigaraki follows behind, rubbing his neck. “Who—” he starts, but his red eyes quickly land on Hawks. “Seriously? It’s far too early for you.”

Hawks grins, adapting a flirtatious tone. “Aw, don’t be like that, babe. Toga already told me about how much you’ve been missing me.” He throws a playful wink in Shigaraki’s direction.

"Toga says a lot of things. Most of them are false," Shigaraki rasps, his glare hard and unamused as he fixes it on the girl.

Toga twirls her knife with an unimpressed shrug. "But this one's true! Shiggy, you were just sulking the other day, weren’t you?" Her tone is playful, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“He wasn’t sulking. It’s Shigaraki—could you imagine him doing that?” Spinner rolls his eyes, and Shigaraki throws him a grateful look.

Hawks grins, "It’s okay to admit it. I didn’t miss you much, but that’s fine—at least you missed me enough for the both of us!"

Shigaraki turns toward the kitchen. “I need food.” He mutters in frustration.

Eventually, Shigaraki and Spinner slide onto the couch with the others, squeezing into the tight space. It's a snug fit, but they manage to make it work.

To no one’s surprise, Shigaraki and Spinner start setting up the gaming console, their movements efficient and practiced. They grab their controllers and begin to start up the game.

Hawks watches them with a mix of curiosity and mild interest, intrigued by the mechanics and fast-paced action of the game. Despite his initial lack of enthusiasm, he finds himself drawn into the chaotic excitement as they start playing.

He doesn’t understand much of it but he tries his best to keep up with the flashing lights and array of buttons.

“Can I play?” Hawks asks, watching them intently as they navigate the game. 

“No.” Shigaraki answers bluntly.

Spinner glances over at Hawks, his curiosity piqued. “Have you ever even played this?”

Hawks shakes his head, grinning sheepishly. “I’ve never played any game.”

They both pause, staring at him. “Are you serious?” Shigaraki inquires, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

Hawks shifts uncomfortably under their gaze and reluctantly nods. "Yeah..”

Before he can react, a console is shoved into his hands. 

“Hold it like this.” Spinner instructs, and within seconds, both he and Shigaraki are yelling out rules and strategies in rapid speed, their voices overlapping.

“Don’t button mash—!”

“Keep an eye on the health bar—!”

Hawks fails miserably, time and time again, despite the string of insults shouted at him from both sides. No matter how much they yell, he just can’t seem to grasp it. 

“You missed that? Seriously?”

“Come on, it’s right there!”

He dies for the millionth time, and Shigaraki and Spinner laugh like it's the funniest thing they’ve ever seen. But the constant noise, the flashing lights, and the never-ending failure are starting to get to him. His wings twitch, a telltale sign of his growing frustration. 

“You moron!” Shigaraki groand when Hawks walks past something important once again. Hawks laughs nervously, his grip tightening on the controller. “I don’t think I’m very good at this…”

“No shit," Shigaraki grumbles, snatching the controller back. "Stick to flying or whatever."

Spinner snorts, “How do you even survive in the real world.” 

“That’s different, this is just confusing, I can function out there perfectly well because I’m not some game character on a mission being controlled. Guess gaming just isn’t for me.” Hawks shrugs.

Shigaraki groans dramatically, throwing his hands up. "No kidding. You're the worst player I’ve ever seen.."

Spinner sighs, nudging Hawks with his elbow. "Yeah, you’re pretty hopeless."

Toga giggles from across the room. "Aw, give him a break! It’s his first time, and he's trying so hard!" 

“What’s with all the ruckus?” Dabi mutters as he steps into the room, yawning while lazily slipping a hand under his shirt to adjust one of his staples.

“Your boyfriend,” Shigaraki scowls, glaring at Hawks. “He’s terrible at video games.”

“Who?” Dabi furrows his brow, blinking away the grogginess as he finally looks up and locks eyes with Hawks.

“Hey, Dabi,” Hawks drawls, dragging out each syllable of Dabi’s name with a teasing grin.

Dabi's gaze narrows, his sleepy expression fading into a harden mask. A dark cloud seems to hang over him as he takes a slow breath, his voice dripping with disdain. “Why are you here?”

Hawks grins lazily, throwing his arms over the back of the couch in a casual sprawl. “For my sweet friends Toga and Twice, of course,” he replies, his tone light and playful. His eyes drift over Dabi’s body, taking in the sight of him in more comfortable clothing than he’s used to seeing. The worn shirt and loose pants make him look different—almost vulnerable.

The others' gazes dart between Dabi and Hawks, the tension in the air settling into an uncomfortable silence.

"Why? Something wrong?" Hawks asks, his tone light but his eyes narrowing as they trail back up to Dabi's face.

Dabi's lips press into a thin line, his voice low and harsh. "Yeah. Get out."

Hawks scrunches up his face thoughtfully. "I don’t think I will. Doesn’t seem like anyone else has an issue with me being here."

Dabi’s jaw tightens, his eyes flickering over the others in the room. When none of them protest, he turns sharply on his heel and walks back the way he came, clearly irritated.

“I thought you guys made up,” Toga says with a deep frown.

Hawks shrugs as he stands and follows the trail Dabi took. “Work in progress,” he replies, his tone casual.

“I’m too tired to be here for this,” Shigaraki announces, and Kurogiri opens a portal for him to step through, with the others following suit.

“But I wanna listen in!” Toga protests, clutching her phone tightly.

“Toga,” Kurogiri’s voice is firm, and she sighs dramatically, reluctantly dragging her feet to the portal.

Hawks catches the door just before Dabi can close it, his wings brushing the frame as he forces his way in. Dabi spins around, his glare sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room.

“What part of ‘get out’ didn’t you understand?” Dabi snaps, his voice low and dangerous.

Hawks smirks, leaning casually against the doorframe. “The part where I listen to you.”

“What do you want?” Dabi sighs through his nose, voice tense.

“You know, just checking on you.” Hawks shrugs, leaning casually against the doorframe. “You’ve been MIA for a while.”

“Haven’t found a reason to contact you,” Dabi mutters, rolling his eyes as he walks over to his bed and sits down.

“Really?” Hawks steps closer, his voice dipping slightly. “So it’s not about—” 

Dabi cuts him off with a sharp, biting look. "I was drunk." 

Hawks falls silent for a moment, feeling his heart tighten at the words. He forces a grin to ease the tension. “You were? Funny, didn’t seem like it—didn’t taste like it either,” he quips, though his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Before he can react, Dabi's hand lashes out, grabbing a random object—a book—and hurling it at him. 

“Well I wasn’t drunk and I—” Hawks begins, trying to find the right words.

“Needed to get closer to the league?” Dabi interrupts while standing up, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Hawks blinks in confusion. “What?”

Dabi steps closer, his voice low and cold. “You thought I’d give you more private information about the League? You were honeypotting me.” His words drip with venom.

Hawks stands there, caught off guard, eyes widening as the accusation sinks in. "That’s not... What? No." He says in the same low and cold voice.

Dabi lets out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Right—"

“I kissed you because I lo—like you. Okay? Is that so hard to believe that I genuinely want you? I thought I was being pretty obvious about it, I’ve been dropping hints for weeks!” Hawks blurts out, his tone frustrated.

Dabi’s laughter dies in his throat as he stares at Hawks, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. He stands there, silent for a moment, tension thickening the air between them.

But then his eyes gleam with amusement again as he fights back laughter. “What?” he says, barely able to contain himself. 

“You like me?” he repeats, his laughter spilling out uncontrollably. He clutches his stomach, roaring with amusement, clearly finding the situation ridiculous.

“Yeah, glad to see it’s so funny,” Hawks mutters, crossing his arms as he watches Dabi collapse onto the ground, still laughing uncontrollably.

Dabi wipes a tear from his eye, still chuckling. "You—actually—like me? That’s rich. You know how stupid that sounds, right?"

“Sorry, my feelings are so stupid. Are you done?” Hawks asks, irritation creeping into his voice.

Dabi looks up, his expression now serious, as if the laughter had vanished. “How dense do you think I am?”

“Very, actually,” Hawks retorts. “I’ve spelled it out numerous times, but it always seems to go over your head. I’ve been flirting with you a lot more than usual, haven’t I?”

“You flirt with everyone, even Shigaraki,” Dabi scoffs, his tone dripping with disdain.

Hawks winces slightly at the name but shrugs it off. “I only flirt with the boss because it’s funny seeing how disgusted he gets. It’s not like I’m serious about it.”

“And honestly,” Hawks says, his voice growing more serious, “I started flirting with you because I thought it was funny too. I enjoyed seeing your reactions, how confused you’d look. It was hilarious and, honestly, kind of cute. Though I suppose ‘cute’ isn’t a word anyone would use for you, right? You probably hate that. Anyway, I I’m getting off track.

It wasn’t just about the laughs anymore. I didn’t realize it until recently, but I think I love y—”

Dabi abruptly slaps a hand over Hawks' mouth. “Stop,” he says, his voice threatening. “Stop talking. You’re making this worse.”

Hawks’s eyes widen behind Dabi’s hand, confusion and hurt flashing across his face. 

The room falls into a tense silence, Dabi’s hand still pressed firmly over Hawks's mouth. “Okay,” Dabi says slowly, his voice steady but strained. “Let’s say I believe you. What then? You’re a hero, a spy. And I’m a villain. That would never work out.”

“I’m not—” Hawks starts, his voice muffled against Dabi’s palm.

“Don’t even try to deny it,” Dabi cuts him off, his voice sharper now. “Maybe I’m ‘dense,’ as you put it, but I’m not stupid and you’re not as sneaky as you seem to believe.”

Hawks doesn’t argue, from the start he’s never been able to fool the otehr.

Hawks sighs, his frustration evident. “That’s another thing.” He gently moves Dabi’s hand away. “You’re really smart, careful, and calculated. It’s no wonder you’re Shigaraki’s second-in-command. You—”

“Alright. I’m smart, moving on,” Dabi interrupts, clearly uncomfortable with the praise.

“Well, let’s see. We could just both abandon our plans, move out to the middle of nowhere on a farm with a bunch of animals!” Hawks says, trying to lighten the mood with a joke.

Dabi’s expression remains cold and unamused. “I’m being serious, Hawks. Be realistic.”

“Right. Sorry. Okay. This probably would be a bad idea right—“ Hawks starts.

“Right.” Dabi agrees immediately.

Hawks takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing. “Look, I get it. This is crazy, and it’s bound to end in disaster. We’re on opposite sides, and we both know that. It’s like setting ourselves up for a train wreck. But… right now, the train isn’t arriving yet. It could be fun, something that we can have for ourselves for a little while..

I know it’s crazy, but isn’t that what makes it exciting? We both know this isn’t going to be a fairy tale. It’s not going to end with us riding off into the sunset. But before everything falls apart, why not let ourselves enjoy what we can? We could enjoy this for what it is—an escape from our daily battles, a chance to pretend we’re not going to be at each other’s throat by the end of it. For now we could ignore reality, even if we know it's going to go up in flames, pun intended by the way.” Hawks grins with a proud look.

Dabi rolls his eyes, but there’s a hesitant pause as he stares back at Hawks, clearly deep in thought. He paces a few steps, his hand running through his hair in a frustrated gesture. 

Hawks watches Dabi intently, his eyes tracing Dabi’s movements as he paces back and forth. Every few moments, Dabi pauses, his gaze flicking to Hawks, only to look away again as if wrestling with his own thoughts.

Finally, Dabi stops in front of Hawks, his posture tense but resolute. He steps closer, their proximity shrinking until their faces are mere inches apart. The warmth of Dabi’s breath mingles with Hawks’ as he speaks.

“This is going to blow up in my face,” Dabi says, his voice a low rumble filled with regret already. The words are almost a whisper, his breath brushing against Hawks' lips. 

Hawks’ grin widens, a mix of excitement and playfulness in his eyes. “Hell yeah it is!” he replies, his tone light—but his eyes hold a burning intensity betraying his deep feelings.

Dabi’s expression seems to soften, if only slightly. A reluctant almost disbelieving smile plays at his lip, a glimpse of vulnerability he rarely ever shows.

Without another word, he closes the remaining gap between them. Their lips meet in a kiss that starts gently but quickly deepens with urgency. Dabi’s hands find their way to Hawks’ face, his grip firm yet tender as he pulls him closer. 

Hawks responds eagerly, his own hands finding their way to the back of Dabi’s neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. The kiss is heated and full of emotions, every touch reflects the yearning they feel for each other.

As the kiss grows more intense, they stumble back onto Dabi’s bed. Their bodies intertwine in a chaotic way, the bed creaks under the weight of their passion, their breaths coming out short and needy.

And lets say, it’s a good thing the other members decided to leave because they would not want to be present for the sounds Hawks gets Dabi to make.