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Three loud knocks rang out from the door.
Dabi ignored it from where he was sprawled on the couch, legs on the coffee table as he stared up at the ceiling. Whoever it was should get the message loud and clear and leave him the fuck alone.
Three more knocks, somehow louder, as if their frustration was mounting.
Dabi had been having a really shit day so far. They had not managed to find any new recruits for the League and instead he had wasted all day speaking with a bunch of useless losers that were definitely not villain material. He really did not want to deal with whoever was at the door now though with all the pent up energy from his day spent achieving fuck all nothing, a fight did not sound particularly unwelcome.
Three more knocks. Except at this point they sound less like knocks and more like someone trying to actively break the door down. Shit, it would be such an unnecessary hassle to deal with if they actually broke his door. His apartment was in a bad enough state with his coffee-stained second hand couch and rickety kitchen cabinets without a broken door to add to it.
Dabi picked himself off the couch with a sigh, his fire itching to torch whichever idiot with zero self-preservation skills was bothering him at this time of the night.
He wrenched the door open with his right hand, flame at the ready at his left which died down immediately when he took in the sight in front of him.
Hawks stood at his door, bright red wings drooping behind his back, the usually full plumage missing a significant number of feathers. He wasn’t even in his hero uniform, the casual attire he was sporting something Dabi had never seen him in before. Cuts and bruises littered his body as he held himself up by the door frame, swaying slightly where he stood. There was a huge gash on his forearm that Dabi could see steadily dripping blood onto his doormat.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he barked, hoping it came out sounding angry enough to hide the concern he was feeling at the sight. Dabi could not imagine who was strong enough to get the Number 2 Hero in this position. He didn’t want to find out if they had somehow managed to follow the bird to his place.
“I didn’t know where else to go…” Hawks managed to mumble, the words slurring together before his body seemed to give out and he collapsed face first towards the floor. Dabi managed to catch him with a soft exclamation of surprise, careful to grab his shoulders and avoid the cut on his arm. The bird was a lot lighter than he looked, it turned out as he half carried, half dragged him over the threshold.
He gently maneuvered the winged hero onto his couch, taking in the vulnerability of his position. It would take no effort at all to get rid of him right now, to do the League a favor. He knew that Hawks was a double agent, had known since that very first meeting, there had never been any modicum of doubt. Hawks might have been new to him but Takami Keigo he was intimately familiar with. He would know him anywhere, could recognize him blind and deaf, could read him better than anyone else. Even now. So he knew that no matter what he spewed about the injustices of hero society, even if he believed what he was saying, Hawks was still one of them.
He raised a hand, flame at the ready but … he couldn’t. He just couldn’t, not when Hawks had come here, trusting and vulnerable despite knowing who he was. Is. Never who he was, not until he was ready for the rest of the world to find out. Would he still trust him then like he foolishly seemed to at this moment? Would he forgive him for leaving him, for never intending to return? The fire went out with a soft sigh, almost regretful, as Dabi made his way to the bathroom.
He grabbed a clean towel that he soaked with water at the sink and his first aid kit from where it sat under his bathroom sink, surprisingly well stocked considering the brink of disrepair the rest of the apartment seemed to be hovering over. But then, with the battered state of his own body and the risk posed by his choice of profession it was hardly unexpected that he would be prepared for the worst. Lucky for Hawks, really.
He made his way back to the couch, Hawks still sitting there as he’d left him, eyes mostly closed with the glimpse of yellow he could see looking dazed as if he was under the influence of something. Or maybe it was just the blood loss. Dabi would wheedle out what happened to him later he decided, once he no longer looked like he was on death’s door. Simply because it might be useful intel to have, potentially a new recruit for the League. Absolutely not because he wanted to burn whoever did it to the ground until nothing but ashes remained. He knelt at his feet in front of the couch as he examined the gash, it would need stitches with how long and wide it was. Whatever, he’d have to make do with his trusty stapler. He carefully disinfected the wound, shushing Hawks’ soft whimpers as he gently dabbed at it.
He popped the little, white anaesthetic pill into the other’s mouth, passing him the half drunk can of soda on the coffee table to wash it down. Hawks swallowed it down, no questions asked. It could be poison for all he knew. Dabi sat back down on his haunches to survey the hero as he waited for the pill to take effect. Hawks stared back at him through half lidded eyes, no fear or uncertainty in his gaze. Nothing that seemed to suggest that he was in the home of one of Japan’s most wanted villains with all his defenses down. They weren’t exactly friends, despite all the playful flirting and the trips to sample fried chicken Hawks kept dragging him off to, Dabi was sure of that.
So why had Hawks come to him? Was there no one else he could go to? Had Dabi simply been the closest in the vicinity when he was hurt? The questions ran through his head as he carefully pinched the skin together before bringing the stapler to it. He thought back to their days together when they were younger, the easy understanding and comfort they found in each other. The trust, the affection that was now completely lost. Maybe not completely. Hawks pitched forward to nuzzle his face against his shoulder as he worked, the soft blonde hair tickling Dabi’s chin. And Dabi, Dabi just let him, painfully aware that if this were anyone other than his pretty bird they’d have gotten their face burned off already for the audacity.
The cut dealt with, he moved his attention to the rest of the injuries.
“Take off your shirt.” he murmured, sitting back on his haunches again to give the hero some space. He’d imagined saying these words before to the birdie under different circumstances. If they were different people, in a different world where Endeavour was not his father and Hawks not an agent of the commission, they might have been something more. Keigo and Touya. Just them. Together, against the world.
Hawks complied silently with the order, none of his usual flirting at the suggestive words. Dabi missed it, sudden anger rising in him at the thought that someone had managed to reduce his bird to this state. He lurched forward when Hawks let out a pained gasp as his sleeve caught on one of the smaller cuts on his arms, gently taking hold of the shirt and easing it over his shoulders and wings. The gash on his arm seemed to be the biggest injury so far. Dabi dealt with the rest of the smaller cuts and bruises efficiently, cleaning them with the still wet towel, before disinfecting them and applying bandages to the ones that needed it.
Hawks had perked up a little bit once the wound on his arm was taken care of, going from looking like he’d drop dead any second to his usual tired look though slightly sleepier. Dabi couldn’t blame him for it, what with the blood loss and the probably not great first-aid he’d received. Dabi was used to it but he didn’t know what kind of treatment Hawks usually received after his hero missions. But he had chosen to come here of all places so he’d just have to make do. Dabi rose to his feet, gathering up the first aid kit to put away.
“Are you staying here tonight?”
“Can I stay here tonight?”
They spoke at the same time. Dabi chuckled lightly, the sound cutting through the invisible tension in the apartment. Dabi wondered if Hawks could feel it, was starting to regret his decision to come to him now that his thoughts weren’t as clouded with pain. Apparently not. They walked to the bedroom together, Dabi holding onto the blonde’s elbow while he leaned easily, so trustingly into Dabi’s side.
Dabi set him down on the edge of the bed before kneeling to take off his muddy pants. Hawks gave him an indecipherable look before obligingly lifting his hips for Dabi to pull them off. Dabi lifted the covers for the other to get under, shifting so his wings lay over the edge of the bed with his back facing Dabi. His feathers still looked messy, Dabi wondered if he was allowed to touch them, groom them for the hero.
“Can I groom your wings?” The question slipped out before Dabi could hesitate. This wasn’t like the rest of the injuries, not particularly life threatening, nothing that Hawks couldn’t deal with on his own when he was better. They were his strongest weapons, his livelihood, one that Dabi could incinerate with a single touch in this position if he wanted to. It had been a foolish thing to ask of the hero.
Hawks stayed silent for a moment, eyes still closed. Dabi was wondering how to take back that momentary lapse in judgement when Hawks let out a soft ‘hm’ of assent, shifting forward a little so Dabi could sit on the bed beside him. Dabi froze in surprise at the easy acceptance for a minute before he sat down, reaching out cautiously to touch the feathers. They were far softer than he imagined they'd be, considering what they were capable of. He ran his fingers through them gently, straightening out the bent ones, careful not to break any, not to hurt, reveling in the quiet, almost desperate intimacy of the moment. Hawks let out a little trill of satisfaction as Dabi continued to make his way down the wings and Dabi felt something warm rush up in him at the sound.
He continued to comb through the feathers until the chirps had died down into soft, slow breaths as the bird fell asleep. He started to stand to let the other rest comfortably, not particularly looking forward to spending the night in his lumpy couch but unsure if he would be welcome in the bed. His bed. Anyone else, they’d be relegated to the couch or kicked out of his place at this point but not Hawks, definitely not when he was like this. A hand reached out to him before he could rise fully, holding him back.
“Will you stay?” Eyes still closed, practically asleep if his voice was anything to go by, completely unguarded. Dabi didn’t know what he had done to deserve this from Hawks, how he had earned the other’s trust to this extent. He’d find out later, he decided as he wordlessly walked to the other side of the bed, climbing in under the covers. Hawks shifted closer to him immediately, reaching out to throw his patched up arm over Dabi’s waist and burying his face in his chest. Dabi wrapped his arms around the other man, nose buried in his hair, inhaling the faint scent of his shampoo.
He didn’t know what kind of strange limbo they were stuck in tonight. The questions he had, the doubts about what they were or could be, they would still exist in the morning. But for now, his arms filled with the warmth of his precious bird, he let sleep claim him.