Dabi is bottoming for Hawks for the first time. He's laid out on his front on the bed, hiding his face in the sheets and biting back a gasp as Hawks eases his strap into him.
He twists the sheets in his hands, holding on as Hawks presses further inside. Hawks hits that spot inside of him, and an embarrassing noise escapes Dabi's throat. He bites on his knuckle, trying to muffle any more mortifying noises his damn traitor of a body tries to produce.
Hawks grabs his wrist, pulling his hand away and pinning it to the bed.
"Don't do that," Hawks tells him, kissing his cheek. "Let me hear you, hot stuff."
Dabi wants to tell Hawks to fuck off, to stop being so gentle with the rolls of his hips and wreck him, but he just knows that the dumb bird would just tut at him and tell him to 'relax,' to be 'patient' — to let go and 'enjoy himself.' Ugh.
Hawks is supposed to be the one who can't control his moans, who turns into a whining, fucked-out mess, not Dabi. Dabi is the one that stays in control. He's always in control, not— not whatever this is. He doesn't even know why he agreed to this in the first place.
And the worst part is, Dabi likes this. He likes the feeling of Hawks inside of him, likes the soft, needy noises leaving his own mouth, likes being laid entirely bare underneath the hero, completely at Hawks' mercy.
Soon Dabi is rutting against the mattress — or, well, 'writhing' would be a better word, considering how well Hawks has him pinned beneath him, and how uncoordinated Dabi's movements are. Hawks inside of him feels so fucking good, and Dabi is losing what little grip he had on his composure.
Hawks runs his hands soothingly up Dabi's sides. "You wanna cum, baby?"
Dabi nods, gasping as Hawks rubs against that spot again. It's like he has a fucking homing beacon for it.
Hawks hums, kissing up Dabi's spine. "You need a hand?"
Dabi bites his lip, hard enough that it'd bleed if it were healthy skin. He shouldn't show weakness, shouldn't want this so desperately. He should want to burn this entire fucking building down with Hawks inside of it — but he can only focus on the way Hawks' lips feel on his neck, the slick sounds of Hawks fucking into him, and the heat that's steadily building, threatening to overwhelm him.
"Please," Dabi begs.
Hawks adjusts him so that he can put his hand on Dabi's cock, and Dabi almost sobs at the sensation. Hawks presses a kiss to his shoulder, murmuring encouragement and praises against his skin.
A few strokes later, and Dabi is cumming, moaning openly and shaking as Hawks fucks him through it.
Hawks eases him down from his orgasm gently, being far nicer to Dabi's overstimulated body than Dabi would be if their positions were reversed.
Hawks kisses Dabi's shoulder, distracting him as he gingerly pulls out. He catches Dabi before he can collapse into the mess of his own cum beneath him, and eases him to the side.
"Doing okay, hot stuff?" Hawks checks, stroking his thumb over Dabi's cheek. Dabi bites at it half-heartedly.
"Fuck you."
Hawks snorts. "Wrong way around, sweetheart. Maybe next time."
Dabi mocks Hawks' words back to him under his breath, but doesn't protest as Hawks cleans everything up and then arranges him so that Dabi's back is tucked up against Hawks' chest.
Hawks kisses the back of Dabi's neck, winding an arm around Dabi and threading their fingers together. "You did real good, you know?" he murmurs. Dabi squeezes Hawks' hand, despite himself.
"… thanks, birdie."
"Anytime, babe."
As he's drifting off, Dabi decides they'll have to do this again.