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"Here."
Dabi looked at the to-go cup Hawks was offering him. It was visibly steaming in the cold winter air that surrounded them and while the prospect of drinking something hot right now sounded like heaven, he still scrunched his nose at the sight.
"I told you I don't drink this shit."
The corners of Hawks' mouth twitched. His picture-perfect smile turned more teasing. A real shit-eating smirk that just begged to be punched. And yet punching it was the last thing on Dabi’s mind right now. He grit his teeth together — it was unfair how handsome the hero looked sometimes.
"It's not coffee, hot stuff. Try it," Hawks said, stepping closer. "Or are you scared I've poisoned it? Want me to take a sip first? Really, if you wanted to kiss me that badly—"
"Oh my god, shut up." Dabi snatched the cup from Hawks' hand.
He ignored the look of triumph on the stupid hero's stupid face in favour of trying whatever Hawks was using to bribe him this time.
The taste registered first. A rich and sweet flavor of chocolate melting on his tongue. Gooey with bitter undertones. Good enough of an offering. Dabi swallowed. At once, a pleasant wave of heat flooded down his throat and straight into his belly. His heat-starved body greedily jumped on it like a starved animal and spread it down to his limbs, his toes and fingers tingling with renewed feeling.
Hmm. Warmth that didn’t cost him another inch of healthy skin. How nice.
Dabi opened his eyes to see Hawks looking at him expectantly, wings held a bit stiffer than usual.
His pretty, flashy wings. A perfect quirk for a perfect body. There were no flames hot enough to cremate corpses under his tanned skin, no liquid nitrogen carving frozen rivers through his veins, no warring extremes clashing over and over again that would leave him a frostbitten, stapled-together mess.
Lucky bastard.
"It's hot chocolate." Dabi smacked his lips. He frowned at the unfamiliar aftertaste. His tongue felt hot. “…Why is it spicy?”
“It's chili-flavored. You don't like it?” Hawks took a sip from his own cup, then sent him another smile. "Mine is gingerbread but I am down for swapping."
Ha. Swapping. Hawks wouldn't last a week with Dabi's quirk.
"No, it's... good. Th— Fuck you." Dabi narrowed his eyes, pointing at Hawks with the hand that still held the cup. "You will have to do better than this to weasel your way into the League."
What the fuck, he almost thanked him. Him. A goddamn Pro-Hero who's almost 100% a spy. Dabi was becoming too comfortable around Hawks and it was dangerous. He had plans in store and he couldn’t allow sentiment to trip him up.
"C'mon, Dabs, it's Christmas!" Hawks' wings flared behind his back, betraying his frustration. Or maybe this, too, was only for show. "Can't we take a break from this?"
It wasn't snowing. It rarely did in this part of Japan. But it was freezing cold, the Christmas ads and decorations filled every street corner, and even Dabi felt a bit different, a bit… melancholic.
Rei used to love Christmas.
"Villains don't take breaks."
Dabi took another sip while Hawks hopped ever closer to him. Hop, hop, hop, like a crow that scouts the streets for opportunities to cause mischief. His flying goggles were fogged up, breath warmed up from drinking a hot drink. Dabi couldn’t look away from the playful expression on his face.
They were using each other. They were both lying to each other. And yet—
"Neither do Heroes,” Hawks said. “And yet here we are.”
Yes. Here they were. Together. In a downtown back alley. At Christmas. A holiday for couples.
When you grow up, Touya, you will be spending this time of the year with someone very special to you. I hope you’ll let me meet them.
Another sip. Dabi’s tongue tingled with spices. "Am I keeping you here? Is Mrs. Hawks waiting for you in your cozy hero apartment?"
Hawks snorted, his gloved hand flying up to his mouth to cover the startled sound. "Mrs. Hawks! Ha!"
It was an ugly laugh, sounding more like a cry of deranged hyena than the calculated little chuckle he gave in all of his interviews and public appearances. More warmth flooded Dabi's system.
...Must have been some quality cocoa beans in that chocolate. Or maybe it was the chili’s fault.
"No," Hawks grinned. He pulled up his goggles to the top of his head, exposing his golden eyes to the world. They glinted dangerously in the darkness of the night. “That position is currently unoccupied. Would you like to apply?"
Dabi huffed, leaning back against the alley wall. He hid his small grin behind the rim of the cup. "In your dreams."
"Yeah, sometimes," Hawks replied immediately, dragging his eyes down Dabi's figure. "You look delicious wearing just an apron, by the way."
Dabi choked on the next sip. Coughing, he tried to shove Hawks away with a punch to the shoulder. The hero barely moved. His hand stayed there, fingers digging into the thick material of Hawks’s jacket.
Sometimes Dabi wondered how it would feel to wear it. The fur on the collar looked soft.
"Fucking hell,” Dabi cursed, clearing his throat. That hurt his lungs. “What is wrong with you today?"
Flirting wasn’t anything new between them. Boldly admitting any kind of lasting attachment, however, was. It was dizzying to imagine Hawks having dreams about him, thinking of Dabi when he—
No. Hawks was probably just fucking with him, like always. Nothing more. And yet…
"It's Christmas," Hawks said, taking the now-almost empty cup from Dabi's hand and sending both it and his own cup away with a few feathers.
"Yeah. And?"
Hawks paused, turning his head to the side. Dabi waited, memorizing the shape of his face. Winter suited him. The faint blue glow of the moon on his skin, the darker tint on his cheeks. He looked cold but also like it didn’t bother him. Nevertheless, the desire to pull him close and warm him up himself bubbled in Dabi’s chest.
When Hawks looked at him again, his eyes shone brighter.
"Don’t you ever get lonely?"
Ah. Dabi squeezed Hawks’ shoulder. Under the layers of clothing, the muscles were tense.
"…Should you be asking me that, Hero?"
"Hmm, probably not." Hawks' head tilted to the side, mouth curling into a rueful smile. "But then again, you make me do a lot of things I shouldn't be doing."
His wings flexed, arching higher over Hawks' head, their impressive span unfurling like the rising sun, red, glossy and brilliant. Dabi’s throat immediately went dry and he narrowed his eyes as the primaries fanned out, curling around them, trapping Dabi between Hawks and the wall.
Dabi let it happen. Let Hawks lean closer, let gloved hands settle comfortably on his waist. It felt nice. Even through the material, he could feel the warmth of another human being touching him for the first time in what felt like years.
All the while, Hawks watched him with an unblinking stare. Cautious as if he thought he was going to get burned here. Dabi couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his staples. Having that kind of effect — that kinda power — over the silly bird was intoxicating.
Feathers flew to Dabi’s face and brushed over his cheeks and dimples, impossibly soft and sleek. One of them glided against the line of his staples and sneaked behind his ear to weave into his hair. A shiver went down Dabi's spine. He couldn't even pretend it was because of the cold. The hot chocolate was still filling his body with borrowed warmth.
Thumbs hooked behind Dabi's belt loops but didn't pull. It would be easier if Hawks just took what he wanted. Then Dabi could blame it all on him. But no. He just looked at Dabi like a kicked puppy, waiting, yearning, waking Dabi’s long dead heart from its icy slumber, making him feel things he had never felt before.
And what Dabi wanted, he took.
Dabi grabbed Hawks' face between his hands and pulled him in for a kiss.
Instantly, the hold on his waist tightened, Hawks yanked him closer, returning the kiss with double the force as the tips of his wings sneaked under Dabi's coat to wrap around him, pressing into the small of his back, the backs of his thighs, possessive and hungry, making Dabi gasp into Hawks' mouth.
A tongue licked between his lips, hot and sweet, and Dabi answered with teeth, nipping at what he could reach. He deepened the kiss himself, throwing his arms around Hawks’ neck and dipped a hand into one of the wing slits on his back. The groan that Hawks made when Dabi grabbed the base of his wing sent a bolt of arousal down his spine. Just in time for Hawks to hoist him up in his arms, slam him back against the wall and grind their hips together.
With a suppressed moan, Dabi let his head fall back. As Hawks immediately honed in on his bared throat, Dabi grinned at the sky.
He remembered when he first heard about Hawks. How the young hero had broken into the Top Ten in his first year of being active. How he had only climbed higher and higher. How the growth of both his popularity and his statistics was staggering.
It's unprecedented, the analyst on the TV News had said. We might be looking at somebody who could finally give All Might a run for his money.
Dabi admits that a small part of him was impressed. Hawks seemed impossibly golden. But a bigger part, the louder part, was filled with envy. Because this was supposed to be him. And he was too weak to make it be his future.
But who cared?
Dabi’s grin widened. Hawks was here with him now, panting wetly into his throat as his hips rolled against Dabi’s with eager little movements. The hero showed his hand too early. Dabi won. Hawks was his to ruin. That brilliant golden sheen was nothing but cheap paint and Dabi was going to scrape it off with his teeth and nails. He knew that underneath there was something sweet waiting for him.
And it would melt on Dabi's tongue like chocolate.
“Hey, Hero. How about we move this somewhere warmer?”