## Preface

Flying High
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/25045486.

Rating:
  Not Rated
Archive Warning:
  Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Fandom:
  僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Relationships:
  Dabi/Takami Keigo | Hawks, Dabi & Takami Keigo | Hawks, Hero Public Safety Commission & Takami Keigo | Hawks
Characters:
  Takami Keigo | Hawks, Dabi (My Hero Academia)
Additional Tags:
  IT'S ALL FLUFF GUYS, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Takami Keigo | Hawks is a Little Shit, Takami Keigo | Hawks is a Mess, Protective Dabi (My Hero Academia), Soft Dabi (My Hero Academia), Wisdom Teeth, Takami Keigo | Hawks-centric
Language:
  English
Series:
  Part 7 of Hawks Needs Help (And He Actually Gets It)
Collections:
  Best, My Hero Academia 💚❤🤍
Stats:
  Published: 2020-07-03 Words: 3,351 Chapters: 1/1

# Flying High

by Numanum

Summary

> “It’s childproof, you dumbass,” he sighs, leaning closer to snatch the bottle away if he has to.

> Hawks pouts at him, but lowers the cap from his mouth, “‘m not a child,” he protests petulantly before snapping his gaze back down to the pills as they rattle again. His hands resume the apparently impossible task. Right, clearly not a child.

> Dabi very carefully looks between Hawks’ focused expression and his clumsy hands trying to just pull the lid off. Somehow, he'd never noticed that Hawks had talons, probably because he usually wears stupid looking gloves. Suddenly, he’s a lot more confident in the idiot’s chances at opening the damn thing, or at least confident enough to just crouch and observe the man’s attempts. After a while of fumbling, Hawks slowly looks at Dabi as he raises the container to his mouth, and Dabi puts a stop to that shit as fast as possible.

> “That’s not how any bottle opens you fuck-nugget,” Dabi makes a grab for the bottle and Hawks rolls away sulkily and curls around the bottle like a dragon would with it’s gold.

Notes

> This is just fluff, hopefully that's okay! It's been in my drafts for a while, so it's probably not as good as my current writing, but hopefully you guys still like it!!! <3

See the end of the work for more notes

## Flying High

Hawks’ hands, gloveless for once, slip smoothly over the fancy leather interior of whatever commission-issued car he’s riding in. It’s so smooth, he’s never realized just how smooth the inside of a car is. Probably because he doesn’t really ride in them, but whatever. Hawks isn’t really sure why he doesn’t; cars are pretty neat. This one especially, for no particular reason other than it being a spy car. Kind of.

His handler, probably fed up with him sliding his hands around the car by this point, slams one of her hands on top of one of his to hold it to the seat. Slightly surprised and put out, he whines slightly at the much smaller range of movement he’s left with. It isn’t his fault his talons caught the leather and ripped it earlier; the leather was just so nice to touch, soft in all the right ways, like what Hawks imagined petting a hairless cat would be like, except cold.

(Don’t people put sweaters on cats?

Do they even make car sweaters?)

“Why’s col’?” he slurs, his fingers dancing drunkenly against the leather from under his Handlers palm, curling and uncurling like inchworms. It’s not as nice as petting it with his whole hand, but it’s still petting it and that’s enough for him right now. Hawks’ other hand is petting the door of the car when his fingers catch on the window button. Head turning in wonder, he laughs at it before frowning because Gods, his voice sounds like he tried to out-drink Rumi on nickle-shot night.

With a small shrug that jostles his head and makes it ache, his fingers press down and he gets the click of a child-locked window.

He only gets to click it twice before his handler is subduing that hand as well, stretching his arm across his body uncomfortably and holding his wrist tightly. Another whine slips out in response, pitiful and childish even to his own ears. His handler sighs but doesn’t really talk to him, and by the time Hawks stops trying to wiggle his fingers against the cold leather the car is pulling to a stop and his handler is muttering something that sounds like ‘thank god’ over and over again as she gracefully leaves his side and steps out of the car.

Sounds, loud sounds, blare from beyond the open door, and they make his back hurt in a weird way, like a rough vibration scraping against his spine. It only gets worse when the door closest to him opens and even more vibrations fly through him. It’s like he can feel the vibrations in his bones, scraping him out and leaving him hollow. Well, hollow-er.

Having hollow bones is kind of cool, even if it means people can just pick him up whenever. Hawks should try to perch on someone’s shoulder, like Rumi’s, just to see what it’s like.

Hawks isn’t sure where the HPSC got this lady, but she’s massive; taller and, objectively thinking, stronger than him. It comes in handy when she gestures for him to get out of the car and all he can really do is flop sideways onto the seat next to him and babble about her eyes; they’re a shocking icy blue, pretty, but for some reason he’s not sure that he likes them as much as other blue eyes; her eyes are a mean blue, which might be the problem.

Between one blink and the next, he goes from thinking of blue eyes while laying on cold leather, to being carried while he talks about how weird marbles are. He's hungry, and he doesn’t feel good, and his face hurts more than it ever has before. The hallways of the building seem to fly by at a speed faster than Hawks himself, and the blurs of neutral colors are so dizzying that he has to close his eyes against the swirls. When he opens them again it’s only because his face, which already aches, is suddenly slammed into something just firm enough to send sharp pain through his jaw. Or maybe something is slammed into his face. Hands are on him one second and gone the next, despite his whines of discomfort and muttered pleas for someone to stay because his face really hurts and he’s somehow having sensory overload without even feeling anything.

Something is rattled in front of his face, a bottle filled with pills, and someone is telling him something and pointing to the smallest print that Hawks had ever had the displeasure of trying to read. His thoughtful hum dissolves into giggles and seconds later the pill bottle is in his hands and the door is slamming shut behind someone. Slowly, his fumbling and heavy hands close against the pill bottle, and the rattling noise makes him laugh. Everything is moving through jello, and it all seems so interesting all of a sudden, like he’s seeing it for the first time. He wants to get up and see but his body feels glued to the floor. He blinks and he’s upright and staring directly into some sort of light above his head. When he closes his eyes he can see bright squiggles of light, like some sort of rainbow noodles, and the thought makes him double over so fast that he almost falls to the floor again. Which doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, when there looks to be a really soft carpet not even ten feet away. He giggles and stumbles towards it, and when he finally gets to run his fingers through it is just as soft as he’s thought it would be. It’s so nice. He quickly tilts forwards and shoves his face into it, whining when his jaw hits it a little too hard and he feels something fill his mouth. When he spits it out, it’s pinkish with dark lines, and it tastes like copper.

It soaks into the rug, and no matter how much Hawks paws at it, the stain is still set into the white fluff and red keeps dripping down his chin and making the mess worse.

Another miserable whine spills out of his mouth.

And that is how Dabi finds him, the number two hero, fastest man alive. Crying into a bloody rug with his face pressed into it and his body shaking with soft, miserable sobs.

He snaps a picture before walking closer.

At first, he thinks that Hawks is hurt, and he doesn’t want to examine why he cares so much, but it’s unnerving to see someone so serious and chipper sobbing into a bloody rug with their hands laying uselessly by their sides and their ass in the air. Hawks is a picture of absolute misery, and (once he realizes that this is just Hawks being an idiot and not him bleeding out) it almost brings a smile to Dabi’s face. He carefully stops on the carpet to let the guy know he’s there, and Hawks shifts to stare at him uncomprehendingly, his pupils are so dilated that there hardly seems to be any gold around the black.

And that’s when it clicks that Hawks is high out of his mind.

“What the ever-loving fuck, Hawks,” Dabi says, taking in the pathetic sight, “did you ditch me to get high?” he demands teasingly, his confusion lying just under the surface because why the fuck would the hero do something like that?

It doesn’t make any sense. Hawks takes one long look at him and doesn’t answer, instead choosing to shake a little orange prescription bottle in a grip so loose that the bottle almost goes rolling across the floor.

(Dabi’s heart skips a beat as thoughts of an overdose being what’s wrong zip through his mind. But the bottle is sealed and full, so he slowly forces his shoulders to relax.)

Hawks barely catches it, moving so fast that his arm blurs and then seeming confused as to how he did it but happy to still have the bottle. It’s like watching a toddler discover that mommy’s car keys make noise, and it’s hilarious. Dabi almost goes digging for his phone to record it before Hawks starts scrabbling at the ‘press down and twist to the right’ lid. His hands are pulling up and to the left, Dabi notes with no small amount of amusement.

“Can’ open it!” he suddenly whines, shaking it again and then seemingly forgetting what he’d even been whining about at all. He just shakes it again with such concentration, even cocking his head in an incredibly bird-like fashion, as he observes the bottle. Dabi watches him until Hawks begins to raise the bottle to his bloody mess of a mouth, seemingly determined to bite the lid off. From what he knows about this kind of shit, biting hard plastic after mouth surgery is a terrible idea (and at this point, there’s no way that it wasn’t mouth surgery; Hawks’ face is swollen, and there’s disgusting bloody cotton wads smushed into the carpet that Hawks had been shoving his face into). Also, as tempting as it was to let the hero try, no way is hell was Dabi touching it if it was covered in bloody drool and Hawks is obviously going to need it later.

Not that Dabi is sticking around.

“It’s childproof, you dumbass,” he sighs, leaning closer to snatch the bottle away if he has to.

Hawks pouts at him, but lowers the cap from his mouth, “‘m not a child,” he protests petulantly before snapping his gaze back down to the pills as they rattle again. His hands resume the apparently impossible task. Right, clearly not a child.

Dabi very carefully looks between Hawks’ focused expression and his clumsy hands trying to just pull the lid off. Somehow, he'd never noticed that Hawks had talons, probably because he usually wears stupid looking gloves. Suddenly, he’s a lot more confident in the idiot’s chances at opening the damn thing, or at least confident enough to just crouch and observe the man’s attempts. After a while of fumbling, Hawks slowly looks at Dabi as he raises the container to his mouth, and Dabi puts a stop to that shit as fast as possible.

“That’s not how any bottle opens you fuck-nugget,” Dabi makes a grab for the bottle and Hawks rolls away sulkily and curls around the bottle like a dragon would with it’s gold.

“‘S mine,” he protests, clumsily pulling his wings into a cocoon to further defend the bottle that he can’t even open. Dabi is certain that only one of them will leave this building alive. He glares at the wall of feathers, and he can still hear the stupid rattling from outside the makeshift barricade.

“You can’t even open it-”

Hawk’s head pops out of the cocoon to stare in Dabi’s general direction.

“Like the noise.” Hawks shifts the bottle for emphasis and looks delighted at the slight rattle that comes with the action. Personally, he hates the noise after being forced to listen to it for only a few minutes, but whatever. If Hawks likes the noise, that’s not Dabi’s problem.

The bottle rattles again loudly, and he can feel his eye twitch the slightest bit.

Dabi can’t decide if he wants to leave him on the floor to die alone and in pain or to tuck him in so tightly that he won’t be able to leave the bed, with no in-between to see. Channeling his inner brother instincts buried deep inside him, somewhere, hopefully, he uses his best negotiation voice.

“It’ll still make the noise, but you’ve gotta take some-”

“Nooooooo-” Dabi’s eye twitches again, and his plan of calm negotiating flies out the window.

“Hawks, I swear to god-”

Hawks’ wings suddenly snap open in defense (the feathers remained soft, which was nice. Dabi looks ugly enough without more scars) and puff up in surprise, and his hand follows the motion. It’s almost like a dog trying to chase its own tail, and Hawks’ giggles only make that connection stronger. Then he registers that the wing is attached to him, and he just stares at it like a dumbass.

“Dabiiii! Look, ‘m feathery ‘n shit,” he slurs happily, tugging on his newly found wing. Dabi slowly raises an eyebrow, and it goes so far that it disappears behind his hair. The distraction of his own goddamn wings is enough for Dabi to get close enough to snatch the bottle of pain meds though, and he’ll take that win. Around this time, Hawks has discovered that he has, in fact, two wings, and he’s so excited by it that he almost falls over again and knocks his swollen face into the coffee table when he suddenly spreads them. “Bet I coul’ fly if I wan’ed,” he smiles, still trying to adjust to being semi-upright. “I’m not even sure you could walk, birdie,” Dabi mutters as he bats the feathered appendages away from his face. Hawks looks ridiculous, flapping around on the ground and grabbing at his own wings in wonder. He looks so young, and Dabi is hit hard with the memory that Hawks is hardly an adult. But that’s not his problem, is it?

Dabi ignores the thought, popping the lid off of the medication while Hawks coos over his own wings.

Now if only he could get the dumbass to take it.

At some point that Hawks can’t remember clearly, Dabi gets here, and it’s nice. Everything is nice really, because Hawks has wings attached to his body, and he’s almost one hundred percent sure that they’re his and he’s had them for a while, but they’re just so cool. He’s lost the bottle that his Handler had given him, but Hawks is pretty sure that Dabi has it, so it’s probably fine for now.

Probably.

Hawks should really get on that. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Dabi, really-

But he doesn’t trust him not to hurt him. Like, Dabi probably wouldn't hurt him for no reason, but even Hawks can admit that he's a shit sometimes.

Speaking of Dabi, the villain’s scarred hand pops into his view, holding out three pills and blocking his view of the bright wings. Hawks’ eyes slowly roll up to peer at Dabi’s face as his own hand moves towards the pills.

Like hell he’s accepting candy from a villain. Yeah, Dabi hasn’t killed him- yet- but Hawks isn’t stupid enough to take questionable pills from him. Even if he really, really wants to for reasons that he's not ever going to examine too closely.

His un-gloved hand slowly raises, cautiously takes the pills, and throws them as far as he can before rolling away and trying to get up, “no.”

He looks over his shoulder and sees as Dabi watches the pills fly, looking impatient. A thrill of smugness rushes through him as the annoyed look he gets from Dabi. Good, fuck him.

“Take your pills,” he demands, and Hawks can just tell that he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t look back at him, continuing to stay in his feathered ball, but he listens.

“No,” he grumbles out, ignoring the villain’s huff.

“Take them or it’s gonna hurt,” Dabi reasons, moving the pills closer to his face. Hawks would rather swallow razor blades.

“Noooo, you’re gonna kill me.”

“And why the fuck would I kill you now?”

“Why do you do any’hing? Wait, now-”

Dabi’s heavy steps alert him just before he’s being grabbed, rolled on to his back, and sat on. Squawking indignantly, Hawks struggles against the weight on his stomach, kicking his legs as much as he can. Dabi waits till he’s done before leaning over him and caging him in.

“This was cute five minutes ago, but I’m done with you. Open up,” he says, already trying to stuff the pills through Hawks clenched jaw. They just press against his teeth, which sucks, but he’s still winning this fight. The villain's hand moves back, taking the pills with it, and Dabi is seething now.

“Hawks, I’ll kill you and it won’t even look like an accident-”

“Tha’s hot-”

Dabi dives for the opening, but Hawks has already clamped his mouth shut again. At this point, he’s not even wary of the pills being poison or something, it’s just funny to see the rage on the villains face.

Unfortunately, the hand that had been aiming for inside him mouth still slams into it.

Hawks lets out a sharp wail, and it should tell him something that Dabi doesn’t immediately take the chance to shove the medication down his throat.

“Fuck, open your mouth,” Dabi’s hands grab onto his jaw, gentle but stern as he tries to get Hawks to show him. Sheer stubbornness keeps his mouth shut, even as blood begins to pool in the back of his throat, which is totally Dabi’s fault. Seeming to guess that’s what's happening, Dabi’s hand lowers from it’s hovering position. His fingers pinch Hawks’ nose shut, cutting off his breathing

Hawks, who just decided that this isn’t the hill he’s going to die on, opens his mouth after a very tense minute. Long fingers immediately dive into his mouth to hold it open, and Dabi’s other hand grabs the back of his head and yanks him upright so he’s not choking on gross mouth blood.

“You bit your tongue,” he mutters in relief, removing his fingers from Hawks’ mouth.

“Bet you wish you had drugs now,” the villain, without getting up, yanks the pill bottle out of an inner pocket of his jacket and eyes the hero under him warily.

“If I give you these, are you gonna throw 'em away?”

Feeling reluctant but also feeling in pain, Hawks slowly shakes his head, getting a sharp nod from Dabi and another few pills shoved in his face. Hawks swallows and gags.

“Did you swallow?”

In answer, Hawks sticks his tongue out, covered in bloody drool. Dabi recoils with a twitchy eye and a grossed out expression, but finally gets off of him.

“When’s the babysitter bitch comin’ back?"

Hawks just shrugs blankly from the floor, only half-listening as Dabi talks to him. Part of him wonders how Dabi knew that someone had been here, but in the big picture it looks like a random piece from the middle and Hawks can't even find the fourth corner. After a few seconds of silence (not even the sound of footsteps as the villain leaves him) Hawks looks back at the villain standing in his empty living room. The mud from his boots is already smeared across the bloody rug.

Dabi is quiet for a while before he walks over and drops down into the bed next to him, ignoring the surprise that Hawks can feel all over his face.

“Someone’s gotta keep you from killing yourself.”

“Say anythin' and I’ll wipe bloody drool on you,” Hawks threatens in a slur when Dabi laughs at him for having Disney Plus. Holding both hands up innocently and wearing a shit-eating expression that reads ‘no promises’, the other man just leans back into the couch.

Hawks coos under his breath as fingers brush over his feathers, relaxing into a Hawks-shaped blob in Dabi's lap.

“Ew,” Hawks complains as Dabi wipes his wet hand on his swollen face, which had previously been resting on said hand.

“What do you mean ew, it’s your drool.”

“Suck my dick,” he slurs, sending a glare at Dabi.

“Birdie-”

“You know what, I’ll suck my own dick. I don’t want you near me.”

He makes no move to get off of Dabi's lap, but he does roll over to squish (ow) his face into the villain's stomach.

“Look, you drooling on the carpet is something that I need in my life.”

“As your lock-screen?” Hawks questions dubiously, peeking out from his hiding place. Dabi looks relaxed above him, eyes still glued to the screen.

“What can I say,” Dabi shrugs, “you’ve got a nice ass.”

Hawks bites him, being sure to really soak Dabi's shirt with bloody spit.

## Afterword

End Notes

> Hopefully this was okay? I had a lot of fun writing it, even if my gremlin brain saw an opportunity for angst at every corner! Please leave a comment letting me know what you think and I'll try my best to reply! <3

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