Work Text:
A Literal Angel
The Sentai mountain range stood stark against the twilight, its craggy peaks slicing through the gathering dusk. Hawks perched on a jagged outcrop, crimson wings folded, feathers ruffling in the chilly breeze. His golden eyes scanned the valley below, watching for a mutant smuggling ring trafficking quirk-enhanced weapons.
Endeavor crouched nearby, flames dimmed to avoid detection, his hulking frame tense as he peered through binoculars. The stakeout was critical, the ring’s leader a volatile mutant, but Hawks’ thoughts strayed to a news report on mutant discrimination, his advocacy burning.
Hawks shifted, voice steady. “This ring’s feeding on mutants, Enji. Society shoves them out, makes them easy prey. We can’t just nab ‘em...we need to fix the bias. Mutants aren’t the problem; the system is.” His passion cut the quiet, charm edged with resolve.
Endeavor snorted, lowering his binoculars. “Mutants dig their own graves. They’re too alien, too wild. Shark mutants rampage in harbors, shredding docks with their fins, starting fights. Spider mutants spin webs in back alleys, running scams, trapping cops. Their crime rates are insane - robbery, assault, gangs. It’s not just prejudice; they make people nervous with their fangs, their eight legs, their whole...freakish look. They could blend in, but they lean into being different, and it backfires.” His voice was blunt, prejudice raw, grounded in stats and gut discomfort.
He paused, frowning deeper. “Take my son, Natsuo. He’s dating this girl - full mouse head, whiskers, twitching nose. It’s weird, unnatural. I can’t look at her at dinner without feeling off. He calls her ‘normal,’ but those beady eyes? It’s hard to get past. I swear to God he's partially doing it just to piss me off.” His tone mixed irritation and confusion, as if Natsuo’s choice was a puzzle he couldn’t solve.
Hawks’ wings bristled, eyes narrowing. “I’m a mutant, Enji. You think I’m ugly and weird?” His voice was sharp, a challenge, but his heart thumped. He’d loved Endeavor in secret for a long time, a truth hidden under quips, and Enji’s words stung like a blade.
Endeavor turned, flames steady, expression plain. “You? Hawks, you’re the most beautiful mutant in the world, and I'm sure you know it,” he said, voice flat, like stating gravity’s pull, blind to its romantic weight. “You don’t count. You’re not like the rest of them.” His eyes lingered on Hawks’ wings, crimson in the moonlight, admiration clear but factual.
Hawks’ indignation surged, but a flush crept up his neck. “That’s not how it works!” he snapped, exasperated. “There are tons - scales, claws, feathers like me. You can’t just pick one!” His wings twitched, but beautiful struck deep, the word compliment unraveling his focus.
Endeavor chuckled, dry and low. “A literal angel like you? Hawks, you’re delusional. Mutants, humans - they don’t see a mutant. You’re divine, not some beast. Those wings, that grace…perfection. No shark or spider comes remotely close.” He spoke, eyes on the valley, as if it were obvious. “You’re breathtaking, the most beautiful thing out there. It's part of the reason you're #2. Everyone wants to take a picture with an angel. You know I'm not talking about you when I'm talking about these mutants.”
Hawks, desperate to shift gears, leaned forward, smirking despite his flush. “Speaking of that, if you weren’t so damn hot, there’s no way you’d be #1 with that mouth. Spouting crap like that? Only your looks save you.” His tone was half-teasing, half-serious, trying to regain control.
Endeavor pointed to the huge scar on his face. “If that were true, this would have knocked me behind you immediately.”
Hawks’ face burned, his crush a wildfire. Enji’s clueless praise was lethal, each word a jolt to his heart. He tried to argue, voice shaky. “You’re wrong, that scar actually amplifies how hot you are. And anyway. Mutants aren’t criminals by default. Sharks, spiders - they’re pushed out, no jobs, no respect. Natsuo’s girl, me - we’re people. Blame the system!” His words were fierce, but his blush betrayed him, crimson deepening, wings locking as he tried to hover, stumbling instead.
Endeavor frowned, considering. “Maybe there’s something to what you're saying. However, mutants fuel distrust when they riot or scam. If they tried fitting in instead of using their differences to break the law all the time…and I mean ALLLLL the damned time…crime might drop.”
Hawks groaned, hands in his hair. “I’m not an angel, Enji! I’m a hawk. I have feathers, face markings, I'm light and short…I crave yakitori all the time, I…I have a freaking gizzard, okay?! The whole deal!” His voice cracked, indignation clashing with a blush so fierce he couldn’t think.
“KEE-EEEEEE-ARR!!” Hawks screeched at Endeavor. “That’s my call! Am I a bird now, Enji?!”
Endeavor screamed back at Hawks, flames bursting. “WOW! That was fucking ANNOYING!”
Hawks was a mess. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, half-indignant, half-dying. “Focus on the mission.” Endeavor nodded, smirking. “Fine, fine. I'll try to throw a bone to the rest of these freaks just because you said so.”
Hawks glanced at him, indignation fading, a shaky grin forming. “Ugh...Keep working on it, Enji. And cut the angel crap. Killing me.” His wings stayed grounded, but his infatuation burned bright, a fragile hope under the mountain stars.