## Preface

The lies we tell ourselves
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/31564172.

Rating:
  Explicit
Archive Warning:
  No Archive Warnings Apply
Category:
  M/M
Fandom:
  僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Relationship:
  Dabi | Todoroki Touya/Takami Keigo | Hawks
Characters:
  Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Takami Keigo | Hawks
Additional Tags:
  Porn with Feelings, Feelings Realization, Self-Conscious Dabi, Moral Dilemmas, Power Botton Dabi, until not, Top Takami Keigo | Hawks, eventually, 5+1 Things, Collab, Fanart, Pigeon Verse, Wing Kink
Language:
  English
Series:
  Part 4 of Pigeon Verse
Stats:
  Published: 2021-05-27 Words: 8,120 Chapters: 6/6

# The lies we tell ourselves

by CrazyClara, EloFromMars

Summary

> It started with a fuck-it moment and a kiss. It evolved into something else where both Dabi and Hawks had to expose more than just skin.

Notes

> Direct sequel of Closer. If you want context, make sure to read the previous part :3

> Clara and I wanted to do something for the Dabihawks week but uuuuh let's say that we're fashionably late, shall we :3 Hope you'll enjoy :D

See the end of the work for more notes

## Discovering you

He’s kissing Hawks.

…

He’s kissing motherfucking Hawks.

Shit.

The hero’s hands left Dabi’s jacket to tangle in his hair, keeping him trapped here, mouth to mouth, hips to hips, and Dabi doesn’t make a move to get away.

Why does he not get away?

Hawks’ tongue brushes against the roof of his mouth and once again, Dabi’s brain stops. That shithead really knows how to work his mouth.

A door slams somewhere and loud voices echo in the large hallway, close enough for Dabi to finally summon enough brainpower to break their kiss. But instead of taking a step away, to put some distance between them and turn his heels before doing something ever more stupid, Dabi pushes Hawks back toward the door under the large stairs. Hawks lets him, his mouth latching onto Dabi’s neck instead. Dabi can’t feel shit here but the gesture makes him groan anyway, sending what was left of his blood down south at the speed of light.

Dabi fumbles with the doorknob and pushes Hawks inside as soon as the door opens. The only light comes from a tiny window, leaving them mostly in darkness.

“Very romantic,” Hawks chuckles as he looks around him.

“I ain’t here for romance,” Dabi grunts, pushing Hawks against a rack where rolls and rolls of toilet paper are neatly lined up.

“Oh yeah? What are you here for then?”

Dabi grins and gropes the front of Hawks’ pants. “Playing mini-golf.”

The massive wings knock off a broom and a few bottles on the lower shelves when Hawks startles at the touch. Dabi sinks his teeth in the exposed part of Hawks’ neck, just above the collar line of his suit. The sound he lets out should be illegal. It fuels Dabi’s own hunger and he starts grinding his hips against Hawks’ in earnest, his own cock straining in his underwear.

Hawks pulls on his hair and smashes their lips together again, Dabi’s grunt is swallowed by the greedy mouth devouring him. Dabi snakes a hand between them again, cupping the promising bulge hidden in the baggy pants of Hawks’ hero suit. The pressure tears another throaty moan out of Hawks. That’s all the encouragement Dabi needs to attack the bulky belt. Shit’s tricky.

Hawks huffs, amused. Two feathers zip between them and undo both of their belts in a second.

“That’s cheating.”

Hawks smiles at him, smug despite his flushed cheeks. “Are you really going to bitch about that, now of all times?”

Dabi shuts him up with another kiss, his teeth closing on Hawks’ lower lip. He finishes what the feathers started, unbuttoning them both and without hesitation, he dives inside Hawks’ boxer briefs to pull out the half-hard cock. Hawks groans against Dabi’s mouth, hips bucking into his palm.

They break their kiss, breath labored. Hawks grabs the shelves on both sides, knocking more stuff off as he clings to them. His head rolls back and his wings flutter and rustle with every jolt of pleasure caused by Dabi’s teasing. When the hero’s dick is fully hard, Dabi pulls down his own pants and underwear. He presses closer until his length brushes against Hawks’. The hero looks down, watching Dabi wrap his hand around them both.

“Shit,” he whispers when he feels Dabi’s piercings rubbing against the underside of his dick. “Shit, Dabi.”

Dabi’s hand is barely big enough to engulf them both properly, but the sensation of skin against skin is already maddening, the glide easy with the amount of pre leaking from the flushed heads of their cocks.

Hawks pants, his fingers leaving the shelf to wrap around the nape of Dabi’s neck. Soft feathers leave his wings and close the circle of Dabi’s palm. They tickle the heads squeezed together.

“Fuck, that’s a nice trick,” Dabi mumbles.

“I’m a swiss-army knife, baby.”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up,” he groans.

“Where’s the fun-oh shit, do that again.”

Dabi heats up his palm again, and Hawks gasps, bucking into Dabi’s hand. They find a rhythm of push and pull. They rut against each other, both their gazes strained on the mesmerizing show of their dicks sliding smoothly against each other. The sight is better than any porn Dabi’s ever seen and combined with the sensations of Hawks’ cock against his and the damn feathers jerking them off, Dabi can’t hold back any longer. He comes with a groan, staining his hand and the red feathers with his seed and Hawks follows him shortly after, cursing like a sailor.

They remain still for a few heartbeats, coming down their high in silence. Dabi removes his hand and the sullied feathers fall to the floor.

He looks at Hawks, uncertain, his fucked-out mind unable to come up with a witty come-back.

He’s saved from that post-coit awkwardness by Hawks’ phone. The hero tucks himself in as he picks up, his voice and breath completely normal, as if he didn’t just get off in a supply closet.

“Hello? Yeah, okay, on my way.” Hawks squeezes Dabi‘s shoulder as he passes him to get to the door. “Yeah, I’ll be there in 20. Send me the coordinates.”

Dabi watches him go, bothered for some reason.

Ha. It’s fine.

Dabi uses the toilet paper on the shelf to clean himself up before leaving the dark closet.

At least, he got that weird tension out of his system now.

Back to normal.

## Tasting you

It’s been almost two weeks since the closet episode and Dabi didn’t show any sign that anything happened between them. No kiss, no heated handjob between brooms and toilet paper, no nothing. It's odd, but Keigo is kinda used to Dabi's out-of-the-blue mood swings. It's just that Keigo's somehow got used to the truce between them, but it seems to be over. Back to the vicious snark and taunting or plain indifference. No more flirting, no more impromptu touches or unexpected show of possessiveness that always left Keigo more confused than anything.

Keigo assumes that Dabi has just wanted something quick, probably on a whim or because Mars was aligned with Saturn or something. Keigo simply happened to be here and available, nothing more. He's pretty sure at this point that it could have been anyone else and it wouldn't have made a difference for Dabi.

What bothers him —well, bother is a strong word— is that Keigo came to somehow enjoy their moments together. When he was not a complete asshole, Dabi was not such a terrible company. Their bitching sessions, the shared dinners or lunches in the most odd places had become a welcome reprieve in Keigo's busy life, a pause where he managed to forget all the people relying on him and where he allowed himself to put Hawks to rest, even for a few minutes.

But whatever.

If anything, Keigo is adaptable. He’s learned to roll with the punches from a young age and Dabi’s erratic attitude never really deterred him, not before and definitely not now. If Dabi doesn't want to have anything else to do with Keigo, that's fine. Keigo doesn’t need him as much as before. He’s where the Commission wanted him to be and he has Twice on his side, so keeping good relationships with Dabi is just a bonus. A nice one but not necessary.

So really, Keigo doesn’t mind.

That handjob wasn’t that good anyway.

…

Really, whatever.

Keigo makes an effort to focus again on Twice's rambling, something about the flowers in the garden giving him allergies or something. He catches Toga's eyes on the other side of the coffee table, her hands cupping her red cheeks. The way she looks at him, almost as if she knew what was going on in his head is as unnerving as the smile that stretches her lips. Keigo's frown only widens said smile, showing a hint of dangerous fangs.

He should probably go home. Why is he lingering here so late at night, anyway? There's no point.

He grabs his coat and glasses and stands up. "Time to get some beauty rest, guys."

"No amount of sleep will make you handsome," Twice taunts, immediately followed by "You're already hot as fuck, no need to rest."

Keigo chuckles and pats the villain's shoulder. "I'll see you around."

He closes the window on a duet of Bye Hawks , and jumps on the railing, ready to take off when his phone chimes in his pocket. He crouches on the thin metal bar, wings puffing on his back to balance him while he checks the text.

Captain fuckface: when ur done chitchatting with the 2 freaks, come to my room. I need something.

Keigo raises an eyebrow at the message and types a quick answer.

Hawks: What do you want?

Captain fuckface: your dick in my mouth. Come already.

Keigo blinks at the words on his screen. This is a joke, right? Probably a joke. He’s tempted to just ignore it to go home directly and let Dabi deal with his shitty sense of humor. And yet, he takes off with a sigh, cursing his curiosity. What could Dabi possibly want at this time of the night?

With two beats of his wings, he lands on the small balcony on the third floor, where lights filter through the dark curtains. He knocks at the window and waits for 10 seconds before knocking again. “Dabi?”

The curtains are violently pulled and Dabi stares at him. “Can’t you use the door, like a fucking normal person?” he blurts, voice muffled by the glass between them.

“Just open the window already, I don't have all night.”

It takes another heartbeat for Dabi to actually slide the window open, a scowl twisting his face in a disturbing mask. Keigo removes his glasses from the top of his head to slip them in a pocket as he passes Dabi. He looks at the room, surprised by the amount of books the villain managed to already stuff on the shelves. He turns around with a half-smile. “So what was so urg-”

The rest of his question is swallowed by Dabi’s mouth, the words stolen by a greedy tongue forcing its way between his parted lips. The potent taste of whiskey and smoke coats Dabi’s tongue and fills Keigo’s nose and mouth. Dabi’s hands are already everywhere, tugging on his belt, pushing him backward until the back of Keigo’s knees meet the edge of the bed. Keigo flops on the mattress without any grace but it has the merit to break their kiss for a brief second.

“Dabi, what the hell?”

Dabi groans and sends Keigo’s belt flying behind his shoulder, his fingers now attacking the button and zipper.

“Hey, hey, slow down! Dabi! Oy!”

Dabi finally agrees to stop and looks up to Keigo from his spot between his parted legs. “What?”

“What are you doing?”

“Is that not obvious? I told you I wanted your dick in my mouth.”

Keigo blinks. “Wha— I thought you were joking!”

“Why would I joke?”

“Because that’s a weird thing to say without joking?”

“I just want to suck your dick, nothing weird with that. But if you keep being annoying, I’m going to change my mind.”

“Are you drunk?”

Dabi presses a palm against Keigo’s soft cock. “And what if I am, Mister Number Two sir?”

Keigo shudders at the sensation. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Dabi’s hand presses harder. “Who’s taking advantage of who here, I wonder.” Keigo groans, eyes fluttering close. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Dabi unzips Keigo’s pants and Keigo looks at him, mesmerized, as he takes his cock out of the confines of his boxers. Dabi latches on the head without mercy, moist heat engulfing Keigo in a way that makes his toes curl. Dabi hums appreciatively and takes more of Keigo’s quickly hardening cock in his mouth, running the flat of his tongue on the underside.

Keigo flops on his back, wings spread wide on the duvet, and an arm thrown over his eyes. “Shit.”

He doesn't know what's gotten into Dabi but he's not going to complain, not when Dabi suckles on the head of his cock in such a delicious way.

Dabi skillfully brings Keigo to full hardness in no time, using both hand and tongue, and eliciting a long string of curses and moans on Keigo's end.

“Fuck, you’re good,” Keigo stutters, running a hand through Dabi’s hair.

In answer, Dabi swallows him whole, trapping Keigo’s dick in the tightness of his throat. The muscles constrict around Keigo’s length, and a wave of pure pleasure crashes over him. And Dabi keeps going. He bobs his head and plays with Keigo’s balls with heated fingers that drive Keigo absolutely nuts. He can’t help but buck his hips to meet Dabi’s motions, hitting the back of the villain’s throat with each thrust. Keigo clings to the dark strands to not fall from the edge, to try to make the moment last and ride the ecstasy Dabi's bringing him for just a little longer. But Dabi’s mouth is ruthless and Keigo feels himself losing grip on the last thread of his self-control.

“I’m close,” he warns between his teeth.

Dabi doesn’t make any move to withdraw and increases the pace instead. With a cry, Keigo comes down Dabi’s throat, back arching and wings flapping wildly on the bed. Dabi keeps swallowing him, his nose buried in Keigo’s pubes, before groaning, the vibrations of the sound rippling around Keigo’s spent cock like electric jolts.

Dabi finally lets go of Keigo’s dick with a wet noise and Keigo raises on trembling elbows, his heart racing against his ribcage. They look at each other in silence for a moment.

“That’s not how I thought I’d finish my day,” Keigo chuckles finally, voice broken. “Do you want me to —”

Dabi shakes his head as he uses Keigo’s thigh to stand up, wiping his other hand on his sweatpants. “Don’t worry about me, birdbrain, I took care of myself.”

“Oh.”

Dabi yawns and flops on his bed, next to Keigo, head first in the pillow. Keigo remains still, uncertain about what to do. “Dabi?”

The villain doesn’t answer and Keigo turns his head to look at the villain. He’s already fast asleep, lips slightly parted. It's the most peaceful expression Keigo's ever seen on him since that time he used Keigo as a pillow.

Keigo sighs. “You're not making any sense.”

Dabi doesn't move.

Keigo peels his eyes away from the soft face, resisting the urge to just curl next to Dabi and pass out. Instead, he gets up, tucks himself in, and picks up his belt from the ground. He turns off the lights before leaving the dark bedroom and the enigma sleeping on the bed.

## Testing you

Keigo doesn’t get it. Well, he does get it. One way or the other, Dabi managed to turn him into a regular booty call. Not that Keigo really complains about it but it’s— disturbing. Keigo never knows if Dabi calls him for business or pleasure, or both.

The pleasure part is not unpleasant per se but Keigo is growing frustrated. Dabi doesn’t let him give anything, even a handjob. All Keigo’s attempts had been more or less subtly diverted until Dabi took back the lead and drowned Keigo’s efforts in pleasure. Even after two weeks of quick trysts in closets and back alleys, they never went all the way. Dabi sucked him off, getting off at the same time, refusing for Keigo to do anything more than kissing or biting the scarce skin peeking outside of his clothes. So yeah, the relief is always nice, and Keigo can’t remember the last time he had sex that regularly but there’s a taste of not enough that bitters everything else.

He looks at Dabi as they’re all gathered in the large living-room at the PLF mansion, squished between Twice and Toga on the couch. Dabi sits in a corner like a grumpy emo teen, visibly bored to hell and back by the current discussion rolling around Skeptic and Shigaraki’s last argument.

Keigo’s eyes follow the line of Dabi’s scarred neck and the hint of collarbone showing above the low neckline of his shirt. He knows that neck intimately now. He knows how the strange texture feels on his tongue.

He wonders if the rest of Dabi’s body would feel the same. He had a few hints when he managed to sneak his hands under Dabi’s shirt but it never lasted enough for Keigo to have a good idea. And Dabi never removed his clothes for Keigo to actually see the extent of —

Oh.

Oh.

Dabi finally notices Keigo’s stare and he tilts his head to the side. He glances at the door and raises his eyebrows at Keigo, a smirk pulling on his lips.

Well, maybe it’s time to test this newfound theory. Keigo extracts himself from the couch with a smile for Twice. “Sorry buddy, early patrol tomorrow. Gotta go.”

“Sucks to be you. Safe flight! ”

Keigo leaves the room by the window, as usual, and immediately takes off to get to the third floor. The window is unlocked and he steps into Dabi's dark bedroom first. A feather zips toward the bedside lamp and switches it on while he gets rid of his gloves, coat and headphones, dropping everything on the small desk pushed in a corner of the room.

Dabi opens the door barely a minute later, kicking off his boots and Keigo goes straight to him. This time, Keigo doesn’t leave time for Dabi to take the initiative and slams him against the door, shutting up his groan with a heated kiss. Keigo crowds Dabi’s space with his wings, fingers curled in the front of his shirt to pull him closer. Dabi answers his kiss with the same hunger, his hands groping Keigo’s ass.

Keigo hums and decreases the pace of his kiss to something more languid, almost teasing, as he guides Dabi toward the bed. A feather detaches from his wings and unclasps the collar of his hero suit. He wriggles out of the tight shirt without breaking the kiss and Dabi’s hands finally leave his ass to touch the skin of his back. His wings rustle happily when the warm fingers find the soft spot between his shoulder blades, where skin and feathers mingle.

Keigo slips his own hands under Dabi’s shirt and skims the healthy skin on the small of his back. Dabi shivers at the touch and doesn’t try to get away, more busy nibbling at Keigo’s bare shoulder. Another couple of feathers help Keigo out of his baggy pants, leaving him only with his leotard.

Dabi’s fingers comb through the feathers and Keigo groans in pleasure. He nuzzles at Dabi’s neck and lets his hands wander higher on Dabi’s scarred back, the shirt rising up at the motion. It seems to snap Dabi back to reality and before Keigo can stop it, he’s pushed on the bed, laying once more on his back with Dabi looming above him. His leotard and boxers are yanked away in one smooth motion, leaving him completely naked on the black comforter.

Dabi looks at him with hungry eyes but there’s something else behind the obvious desire. And Keigo thinks he starts to understand what it is.

It’s okay if Dabi doesn’t want to show himself, Keigo won’t force him, but it pulls at something in Keigo’s chest. Not pity, of course not. Probably just his hero syndrome kicking in. Dabi doesn’t need saving, though. Or does he? And even if he does, Keigo is pretty sure Dabi doesn’t want any of that. He would probably turn Keigo into ashes if he attempted anything of the sort.

So Keigo will take what he can from this strange dance they’re leading together and make the most of it. And tonight, he doesn’t feel like settling for a blowjob. He wants the full package.

Without any shame, he parts his legs, eyes locked with Dabi’s, and wraps his hand around his dick, stroking it lazily. “What about you fuck me tonight, Staples?”

Dabi licks his lips as he contemplates Keigo, fingers flexing by his side. He seems to hesitate for one second before grinning. It seems a bit strained but it’s hard to tell with scars. “That I can do,” he croaks.

Keigo uses his wings to sit up and grabs Dabi’s shirt again, pulling him on top of him for another kiss. “Then do it,” he whispers in the space between their lips.

And Dabi does. God he does. First with his fingers, slowly, almost painfully so, but finding Keigo’s weak spots with infuriating ease. Keigo is about to lose his mind when Dabi finally withdraws his hand to press something bigger against Keigo’s lube-slick entrance.

Keigo knew Dabi was big. Like bigger than his usual. He had plenty of chances to see it. But seeing it and feeling it splitting him in two were two different things.

Keigo groans at each piercing catching against his overstretched rim. “Fuck.”

Dabi stops. “Relax, birdie.” He leans down to kiss Keigo, distracting him from the hard length filling him. “Relax.”

Keigo cries against Dabi’s mouth when Dabi moves again, pushing deeper until he bottoms out, his hips flushed against Keigo’s ass. He withdraws slowly before pressing forward again and Keigo starts to see stars already.

Then Dabi starts fucking Keigo in earnest and all Keigo can do is to hold on to whatever he can grab. He moans Dabi’s name, all his body shaking under the assault, from his legs tightly locked around Dabi’s waist to his wings where Dabi has buried his hands.

The piercings rub against his walls and create sensations Keigo never felt with any other partners. Filled up to the brim, stretched to the point of almost breaking and Dabi’s cock reaching a point so deep inside that Keigo understands now intimately the expression “having his insides rearranged”.

Dabi is going to ruin him for any other potential lover at this point.

“Dabi — ha. Fuck, Dabi I’m—”

“I got you,” Dabi mumbles. One of his hands leaves Keigo’s wing to wrap around his leaking cock, smearing the pre on Keigo’s shaft.

Keigo pulls Dabi into a sloppy kiss with too much teeth and tongue, a mess of lips against lips that muffles his cries of pleasure. He comes with a shout, all his body tensed and locked around Dabi, wings curling around the villain still moving inside him.

“Shit, Hawks. I’m close. I’m close.”

Keigo clings to Dabi as he rides his own pleasure, unable to let go of the hot body between his arms. Dabi bites into Keigo’s shoulder when his orgasm finally hits him. He slumps on Keigo’s chest with a shudder, dick twitching inside Keigo’s ass.

Keigo has to force himself to unwrap his limbs from around Dabi, wings unfurling completely on the bed. He remains still, eyes looking at the ceiling without seeing it, his mind blissfully numb and quiet. Without thinking, he gently scratches Dabi’s scalp and Dabi hums, head buried in the crook of Keigo’s neck.

## Holding you

Kissing Hawks has been a mistake.

The first pebble that triggered a fucking avalanche of mistakes.

Dabi rams into the tight heat and relishes the throaty moan that follows. The sound is covered by the staccato of the pouring rain drumming on the corrugated sheet sheltering them both but it’s not lost to Dabi’s ears.

He thrusts his hips up again and Hawks clenches around him. "Shit, keep going."

Dabi kneads into the muscles of Hawks' ass, spreading the cheeks wider and Hawks muffles his next cry in Dabi's shoulder.

He should have stuck to blowjobs. God, he really should have. Maybe it would have been easier to keep some control of the whole situation. Maybe. But what was he supposed to do when one of the hottest men on earth (not his words, half of the press's ones) asked him , of all people, to fuck him? Dabi was just a man and saying that he never dreamed of stuffing his cock into that tight ass would have been a lie.

The problem was that Dabi usually had a very strict one-night stands policy. Find some rando not too picky about his look, or too wasted to actually care, get his relief one way or the other, and forget about it. Never twice the same person. No strings attached. No question or personal stuff. Just a dick in a hole and bye.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to apply to Hawks. No matter how many times Dabi tells himself that it’s the last time, it never is. Even when he calls Hawks just for business stuff, the giant chicken seems to act like a magnet for Dabi’s hands and dick. Every time, he promises himself he's going to keep the bird at arm’s length. And every time, all Hawks has to do is smile and move his stupid wings to awaken an itch Dabi is unable to scratch by himself. He tried everything: jerking off before meeting Hawks (the fact that most of his fap material is now linked one way or the other the hero definitely doesn’t help), think about Shigaraki or Re-Destro naked, focus on his breath or whatever bullshit he found on forums, nothing worked.

Hawks shows up, Dabi needs to touch and hold.

Simple as that.

Simple and fucking annoying.

Because now —

Now Hawks has realized the shit ton of insecurities Dabi manages to hide most of the time by keeping people at a safe distance. Someone who doesn’t care would probably have ignored Dabi’s trouble. The problem with Hawks though is that he cares. Fucking hero.

Dabi knows he looks like a fucking scarecrow. He made his peace with that. Or so he thought. Being confronted to the perfection of Hawks’ body reminds him how his own falls apart, and the idea of Hawks seeing this, witnessing the entirety of the patchwork Dabi is makes his skin crawl.

He doesn’t want to read disgust in those golden eyes, or worse: pity.

Dabi will indulge his new addiction, since it appears that he can’t fight it, but on his own terms. He will fuck the bird how many times he needs to get it out of his system but he won’t let Hawks get his way. He will hold on to that last thread of control, as thin as it can be.

He will keep the upper hand in their dance if that’s the last thing he does.

An especially harsh thrust makes the wings crushed against the wall where Dabi has pinned Hawks tremble, the smooth, shiny, red feathers stark against dirty bricks. Hawks tightens the iron noose of his thighs around Dabi's waist, spurring Dabi to go harder.

And harder Dabi goes, ignoring the burn in his own legs and in the arms holding the bird up. It's drowned into the pleasure coursing through Dabi's veins, into the white-hot point coiling low in his gut.

“I’m close,” he groans.

Dabi watches with the same awe as the first time small feathers leaving Hawks’ wings to wrap around their owner’s cock, a tight cocoon of red that starts pumping in rhythm with Dabi’s thrusts. Hawks clings harder, Dabi’s name rolling from his lips like a mantra, and fuck if it’s not the most delicious thing to listen to. It makes Dabi feel good. It makes him feel wanted and needed. Desired.

Even if it’s all a dangerous lie.

Believing in this, even if it’s just during their fuck sessions —

This is probably Dabi’s biggest mistake but never has a mistake felt so good.

He comes with a cry, head buried in the crook of Hawks’ neck, all his body trembling from exertion, but he doesn’t want to let go just yet.

Hawks follows him shortly, his arms and wings wrapped around Dabi.

They remain still and silent for a few moments. They always do. The only time where they live in each other’s space in silence. The sated quiet between them is only broken by their labored breaths and the rain still falling.

Hawks runs his fingers through Dabi’s hair, gentle, almost tender, a habit he's picked out of nowhere.

And it shouldn’t pull at Dabi’s heartstrings like it does.

He should stop that.

They both should.

Hawks tilts Dabi’s chin up and presses a kiss against his lips, a soft thing without any heat. Just a peck, something lovers do without thinking.

But they’re not lovers.

To be lovers, you have to be in love. You have to have feelings.

Dabi’s heart beating harder in his chest doesn’t mean anything.

He kisses Hawks back, unable to stop himself.

It doesn’t mean anything.

It can’t mean anything.

## Not giving in

Keigo wasn’t expecting to find light in his apartment when he came back from work that day. He lands quietly on the balcony, a sharpened primary immediately in his hand as he peers inside. The TV is on but he can’t see anyone around. Silently, he slides the window open and steps inside, all of his senses on alert. There’s another breathing in the room, he can feel the vibrations in his feathers.

He progresses quietly in his living room, feather at the ready and —

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Dabi yelps and almost falls off the couch where he’s been sprawled. “For fuck’s sake, chickenshit, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

Keigo clicks his tongue and sends his feather back to his wing. “You’re lucky I didn’t stab you.”

Dabi grumbles under his breath and sits up. “You’re a hero, you’re not supposed to murder innocent people.”

Keigo stares at Dabi in disbelief. “Since when are you an innocent person?”

Dabi snorts and shifts on the couch, chin resting on his arm spread on the backrest. “Touché.”

Keigo rolls his eyes and shrugs off his coat. “You didn’t answer my question. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, one: I was bored. Two: the freaks were annoying as hell. Three: your place is nicer than mine.”

“You guys live in a fucking mansion.”

“With eighty other people and one Geten.”

“Of course. How did you get in? It’s supposed to be an anti-intrusion door.”

Dabi opens his palm with a grin, giving birth to dancing blue flames. Keigo glances at his entrance door and sure enough, the knob is just a shapeless blob. “I closed behind me though. Pretty sure you never use the door anyway.”

“That’s not the point,” Keigo groans.

“Then give me a key.”

“I’m not giving you a key.”

“Then don’t complain next time I melt your doorknob.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Keigo grumbles as he makes his way to the bathroom for a much-needed shower.

“Yeah yeah.”

Keigo closes the bathroom door and leans against the sink. It’s been what? A bit more than a month since the first time they kissed and fucked in that closet? What was supposed to be a one-time thing, a simple fluke, is turning into something else. Something awfully comfortable.

It shouldn’t be comfortable. This is one of the most wanted villains currently lounging in his living room, not some random civilian he picked up in a bar. Keigo doesn’t feel on edge anymore when he’s around Dabi and that is dangerous. He shouldn’t let his guard down like this. He’s the number 2 hero, for god’s sake, he knows better. He is better. Or is he?

“Yo, birdie, can we order food? I’m fucking starving.”

Dabi’s muffled voice on the other side of the door stops his train of thought. This isn’t normal. This is fucked-up. Why doesn’t he kick Dabi out of his apartment?

“If you pay for it,” he answers instead.

Stupid stupid stupid.

“Like hell I’m paying. Ha! I found your credit card. Thanks for the pineapple pizza, birdbrain.”

“Don’t you dare!”

He hears the cackling on the other side of the door and can’t help but smile. A genuine one that alleviates a bit of the pressure that constantly weighs on his shoulders, every minute of every day. And the one bringing him that temporary relief is allegedly one of the worst human beings alive. Someone who murdered in cold blood and turned into ashes anything that looked at him the wrong way. What does it say about Keigo, really?

He’s probably the most fucked-up of them both.

He should take a step back. Or ten.

That double-agent gig is wearing him down, physically and emotionally. He can feel the exhaustion of stressful day after stressful day deep in his bones and, yes, maybe, it’s becoming hard to consider things in a cold, logical way. Part of him is aware of this but every second he spends with Dabi, every touch, every quiet moment, every shitty joke, and poorly-hidden show of possessiveness is weakening the rational side of his mind, smothering it in something dangerously warm and almost cozy.

With a sigh, Keigo looks away from his reflection in the mirror, away from the dark circles under his eyes not concealed by makeup anymore, away from the grey hair he found on his temples a few mornings ago, almost invisible among the golden locks but Keigo knows they’re here.

He drowns his concerns and self-doubt under the stream of hot water, before joining Dabi in the living room.

“What are we watching?” Keigo asks, flopping next to the villain who immediately propped his feet in Keigo’s lap, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Dunno. Cooking show?”

Keigo glances at Dabi. “Didn’t take you for the type.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Flawless logic.”

“Obviously.”

Dabi starts an episode of Hell’s Kitchen and Keigo sinks deeper in the couch, shifting until he finds the best position for his wings. Dabi doesn’t shut up for a minute and comments on everything, adding his own snark to the chef’s and it makes the show ten times funnier, in Keigo’s opinion. When the pizza guy arrives downstairs though, Keigo curses at Dabi and the melted doorknob. Dabi almost chokes on his own cackles when Keigo is forced to go get their food by flying downstairs. The concierge in the lobby blinks at him when Keigo re-enters the building by the main entrance instead of the elevator.

“Quicker that way,” he mumbles and the old man doesn’t argue but the disbelief is clear on his wrinkled face.

Dabi welcomes him back with a too-wide grin. “Now you’ll give me a key.

“I won’t give you shit.”

“Aaaawe, yes you will. Come on now, I’m starting to digest myself.”

Keigo drops the two large pizzas on the coffee table while his feathers go fetch a couple of beers in the fridge. “I swear to god, if you ordered pineapple pizza, I will throw you out,” he threatens, opening the first steaming box.

“My tastebuds are still intact, don’t worry.”

“Says the guy who dips his nuggets in a milkshake.”

“It’s good.”

“It’s horrendous and you know it.”

Dabi snorts and grabs a slice of pepperoni pizza. “Everyone has their guilty pleasure.”

Keigo glances at Dabi’s profile. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

They wolf down the two pizzas in no time, as if they hadn’t eaten in two days, and Keigo reclines on the couch with a contented sigh. He’s sated, he’s warm, and he feels almost sleepy. Dabi has switched to a thriller movie so cheesy that Keigo guessed the ending after the first 10 minutes.

“It’s the guy from the beginning, isn’t it?” Dabi asks after a while.

Keigo stretches his legs with a yawn. “Probably, yeah.”

“Mmmh. Well, time for dessert then.”

“Uh?”

Keigo startles when he finds himself with a lapful of Dabi. The villain straddles his legs and leans forward with a smirk. “Except if you absolutely want to watch the rest of the movie.”

Running his hands on the thighs trapping him, Keigo nudges their noses together. “Not really, no.”

“Good choice.”

Dabi presses their lips together and grinds against Keigo. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly Keigo’s body reacts. He keeps his hands on Dabi’s waist, not willing to upset him. Boundaries and all.

“What’s on the menu tonight?” Keigo asks quietly, tilting his head on the side to give Dabi more room to nibble at his neck.

“Maybe two scoops of your dick in my ass, with a side of fuck me stupid?”

Keigo snorts. “Well, I think it’s doable.”

“Switch off the lights then.”

Keigo opens his mouth to protest but the look Dabi gives him dissuades him. He claps his hands twice and the lights go out, save for the TV screen.

“Nice trick,” Dabi chuckles and he climbs down Keigo’s lap to remove his jeans and briefs.

Keigo wriggles out of his sweatpants and sends feathers fetching the lube in his bedroom. “Quite convenient, yes.”

It’s too dark for him to see Dabi’s legs clearly but he can guess the darker patches on his thighs. His attention is quickly drawn back to the hot mouth against his and the hardening dick rubbing against his own. Dabi grabs the lube from Keigo’s hand and pours it on his own fingers before reaching behind him.

“Let me —” Keigo starts.

Dabi shushes him with another kiss. “It’s not on the menu.”

The villain doesn’t spend a lot of time prepping himself, to the point Keigo is a bit worried. He’s not exactly small but Dabi doesn’t give him the time to voice his concern. He coats Keigo’s cock with a large amount of lube, stroking it to full hardness before lining himself up.

Keigo steadies Dabi with a hand on his waist and the other under the elbow, and Dabi lowers himself, pushing Keigo’s head inside his tight heat. Keigo gasps at the sensation, eyes tightly shut.

“Fuck yes,” Dabi groans when his ass finally rests on Keigo’s thighs.

Dabi doesn't go slow. That's something Keigo came to learn. For someone who looks so nonchalant, borderline lazy, Dabi sure doesn't know how to take his time when it's about sex. Doesn't know or doesn't want to. It's always fast-paced, always urgent. It's not bad but Keigo would like to be able to take his time for fucking once. But Dabi never lets him take the lead so all Keigo can do is enjoy the ride.

And he does enjoy it. It would be impossible not to when Dabi’s walls hug him so tightly. Keigo's fingers dig into the meat of Dabi's hips as the villain slams down on his cock again and again. Keigo meets each roll of hips with one of his thrusts, biting through Dabi’s shirt and in the scarred shoulder, eliciting a groan and a clench around his cock.

Dabi’s legs start trembling against Keigo’s. Keigo pulls Dabi toward his chest, trapping him between his arms and rocking his hips up, keeping the pace Dabi has set to bring them both to their release. Dabi mouths against his neck, sucking on Keigo’s heated skin, just on his pulse point.

Ridiculously quickly, Keigo finds himself close to the edge. The warmth of Dabi around him, on him, his teeth on his neck, his fingers buried in his feathers combine in a tight knot of pure ecstasy, low in his gut. Dabi's cock, hard and leaking, rubs against Keigo's stomach with each motion.

With a final thrust, Keigo comes inside Dabi with a broken cry, but forces himself to keep going, despite the oversensitivity. He sends a few feathers between them to wrap around Dabi's dick.

"Come on, Hot stuff, come for me," he whispers.

Dabi moans, his fingers clenching on Keigo's wings and his walls around his cock and warmth covers Keigo's stomach and feathers in spurts.

Dabi slumps on Keigo, breath labored and forehead sweaty against Keigo's bare shoulder.

"I'm going to ask you to fuck me more often," he mumbles.

Keigo rubs circles on the small of Dabi's back, an apparently safe-ish spot. "And I might agree to that."

Dabi hums, unmoving for a while, to the point where Keigo thought he had fallen asleep.

"I'm going to shower," Dabi finally slurs, peeling himself from Keigo and crossing the dark living room with a slight limp.

The bathroom door’s lock clicks and shortly after, the water starts running. After cleaning himself up in the kitchen, Keigo heads to his room, not knowing if Dabi is going to stay the night or not. He’s fine with either, as long as he can have his five hours of sleep.

He strips from his clothes and burrows under the comforter with a content sigh. All his appetites are sated, his mind is blissfully quiet and the sound of the shower still running lulls him to sleep. He barely registers Dabi coming into the bedroom until the mattress dips under another weight.

“Sleeping already?”

Keigo tries to answer but sleep is weighing on him like a ton of lead. Dabi’s next words are lost to his ears, all Keigo is aware of is the warm body scooting closer and him reaching to hold on to it.

## Relinquish

The feeling of something brushing against his back stirs Dabi from his slumber. His mind is completely numb, still drunk with the heaviest sleep he’s ever had in years without being wasted on alcohol and/or drugs. He stretches slightly and the thing following one of his seams stops briefly before resuming. Dabi sighs when two lips are pressed against the nape of his neck.

He’s then pulled against a warm chest, and callous fingers start exploring his stomach with infinite care. There’s something hard pressed against his ass, something that promises bliss and euphoria.

The haze of sleep lifts progressively, replaced by a familiar hunger. That’s only then that Dabi realizes that he’s butt-naked. He tenses against Hawks and the touches stop.

“You okay?” Hawks rasps next to his ear, his voice still heavy with sleep.

“Where are my clothes?”

“Don’t know? On the ground, I suppose.”

Dabi must have stripped in his sleep, running too hot once again. Shit. He should have gone home. He should —

Keigo’s fingers hike up to his nipple and expertly play with it until it’s hard under their touch. “Relax,” Hawks whispers. “You’re fine.”

“I’m not—”

“I don’t care about how you look.”

Dabi purses his lips. “I don’t care that you don’t care.”

“Oh really?” Hawks grinds his hips against Dabi’s ass.

“Shut up.”

Hawks hums and drops a kiss between two staples, while his fingers leave Dabi’s nipple to map the rest of his chest.

Dabi is torn between his urge to get away and his need to feel Hawks’ inside him again. But Hawks is going to see. Dabi can’t stand the idea of Hawks seeing him. He hates the fact that if it was anyone else, he wouldn’t give a fuck. Since when Hawks’ opinion started to matter to him? This is dumb. This whole situation is so dumb. He should just get away from there.

The dainty fingers trail down and stop a few inches shy from Dabi’s morning wood. “Tell me to stop.”

Just one word and Dabi knows that Hawks will back off. Because he’s ‘a a good guy’. Because he’s a fucking hero who respects Dabi’s boundaries. Bastard.

Dabi is used to dealing with pricks and jerks who think they can have their way with him. He burned half a dozen of them throughout the years. But he doesn’t know how to handle this kind of attitude. Hawks has more respect for him than Dabi himself and this is a strange feeling. Strange and disturbing.

“Dabi?”

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he hisses.

The curious fingers withdraw and the warmth against his back disappears completely. “Not with words, no.”

Dabi rolls on his side and sneers at that goodie-two-shoes jerk. Hawks holds his gaze in the dim light of the morning, his face neutral.

“The fuck do you mean?”

Hawks shrugs. “I’m not going to fuck you if you’re tensed like that.” He sits up in the bed, duvet pooling around his trimmed waist. His hair and feathers are in disarray and there’s the mark of his pillow on his cheek but he still manages to look good.

Dabi scowls, glaring at the perfect chest taunting him. “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

“I don’t—”

Dabi can’t take the way Hawks looks at him any longer, with his stupid sad puppy eyes. He yanks the duvet away, exposing his wrecked body, displaying the scarred tissues stapled to what’s left of his healthy skin. Hawks’ eyes widen at the sight, lips slightly parted as if he was about to say something but the spectacle of Dabi’s body robbed him of his words.

Dabi smirks to hide the turmoil of feelings pooling in his chest as Hawks looks at the freakshow. “Yeah, surely not pitying,” he finally snarls and Hawks snaps his eyes back to Dabi’s face.

Fucking whatever.

Dabi slings his legs out of the bed, ready to leave that place and that stupid bird behind him for good. He doesn’t need him. He doesn’t need anything. He doesn’t even need a healthy body as long as it keeps carrying him until he meets his end, hopefully in the near future.

“Dabi, wait.”

“Fuck off.”

Hawks grabs his arm.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Then stop being a drama queen for one second.”

Dabi glares at him over his shoulder. “Let go, or I’ll burn you.”

“Then burn me but I’m not letting you go like this.”

Anger and hurt boil under Dabi’s skin, ready to unleash in the form of blue flames but he manages to keep everything under control. For now. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I want you to listen. I told you I don’t care, and I genuinely don’t. If I’m not repelled by your ugly mug, I’m not going to run away because of a few more scars.”

“How nice.”

Hawks rolls his eyes but he doesn’t let go of Dabi’s arm. “You’re a wreck, yes, and I honestly don’t know how you can go around in that state —”

“Spite and yoga,” Dabi cuts off between his teeth and Hawks chuckles. His grip around Dabi’s bicep loosens and he comes and sits next to Dabi.

All of this is a lie. All the words passing Hawks’ lips are lies. So why do his eyes look so sincere? Why does he even bother? Dabi is not stupid: he knows that the hero doesn’t need him anymore. He got what he wanted. So why does he keep putting up with Dabi like he does?

It doesn’t make sense. Or it does but Dabi doesn’t want to touch that with a 10-foot pole.

Hawks’ shoulder bumps his own and Dabi despises the urge to just lean against Hawks. “If you want to go, go. I’m not going to stop you. But I meant what I said.”

Dabi doesn’t answer. He doesn’t want to believe anything Hawks says. He doesn’t want to, but a small part of him, a quiet voice at the back of his head can’t help but sink its teeth in those words, to cling to them.

Hawks wraps his hand around Dabi’s nape, rubbing gently until tension seeps out of Dabi’s body. “Do you want to stay for breakfast?” he asks quietly.

Dabi nods, all fight taken away.

“I can make coffee. And uuuh, coffee.”

“How did you even live until now?” Dabi sighs.

“Starbucks and KFC.”

“You’re a mess.”

“Take one to know one.”

Dabi raises his head to meet Hawks’ eyes. The hero smiles at him. It’s not one of his megawatt smiles. It’s smaller. Softer.

“I don’t understand you.”

“As you told me once, it’s not in your job description.”

Dabi shakes his head and when Hawks lifts his chin with a finger to press his lips against Dabi’s, Dabi doesn’t fight.

He doesn’t fight when Hawks pushes him back on the mattress and settles between his legs.

He doesn’t fight when the morning light floods the large bedroom and shines on his staples.

Hawks follows every seam with his mouth, with his fingers and Dabi lets him, getting familiar with a touch that doesn’t hurt.

Hawks pushes inside him, slow and steady, filling Dabi just the right way.

Dabi doesn’t try to take the lead this time. He lets Hawks do as he pleases.

All Dabi does is cling to the hero’s shoulders, and watch the pretty wings unfurl above him in a display of red and gold.

Dabi gives in.

He relinquishes.

Just for now, he allows himself to let go and to believe that Hawks tells the truth. Just for now.

## Afterword

End Notes

> Elo's Twitter | Clara's Twitter

Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!