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To say that Hawks has had a shit day is putting it lightly.
He’s never been a fan of winter, but having to run rescue missions in the middle of December– in the middle of a blizzard– is never not going to make him feel like complete crap.
The news had called it the worst snow storm in a decade. Hawks calls it his personal hell.
Hawks already isn’t the biggest fan of winter and the fun variety of seasonal depression and repressed memories it tends to bring out of him, but the universe seems to have it especially out for him today– He’s been running on coffee and willpower since 6am, his feathers are weighed down with ice, and if Hawks gets another notification for an unread message he’s going to throw his phone into the toilet, commission be damned.
By the time Hawks manages to crawl back to his apartment complex, it’s already close to midnight. There’s something particularly galling about having to take the elevator when you have fucking wings, but it’s cold, his wings are soaked, and all he really wants to do is shed his feathers and try to get in at least four hours of sleep before having to head out again.
Hawks manages to mostly keep it together for the elevator ride, but as soon as he hits the penthouse floor, he lets his shoulders slump, letting himself have one indulgent forehead thunk against the door before moving on. The phone and its one million notifications that he refuses to check until tomorrow immediately gets exiled to the bedroom by one of the few feathers Hawks has left that isn’t slushed up.
There aren’t any shoes besides Hawks’ own house slippers lined up against the door, but Hawks has learned that when it comes to Dabi and his lack of respect for basic house guest rules like taking off your shoes, asshole, that means practically nothing.
Sure enough, there’s mud tracks leading out of the foyer and into the kitchen and- yep, Dabi’s seated at the counter, casually scrolling through his phone in his usual oversized leather coat, black combat boots scuffing up Hawks’ otherwise pristine floor.
Hawks knows about Dabi’s secret rich boy past now, which means he also knows that Dabi absolutely does this on purpose just to annoy him, which Dabi knows he knows–
“You know, I can hear you getting your panties in a twist.” Dabi calls out, still looking down at his phone, and Hawks can practically hear the lazy grin in his voice, the fucker.
“How many times have I told you to take off your shoes?”
Dabi rolls his eyes, “Don’t give me that shit when you’ve got literal cleaners coming in every weekend.” Which, fine, true, but its about the principal of the matter, which- uh-
Any potential retort immediately dies on Hawks’ tongues when Dabi slips off the stool and stalks over, jacket swinging open. Its only then that Hawks fully realizes what Dabi’s actually wearing. And promptly short circuits.
The thing is– Dabi’s already ridiculously attractive. Hawks is aware that this is not a widely shared opinion amongst the general public, or even Dabi himself, but that doesn’t make it any less true. He’s biting and sharp and occasionally hilarious, and sometimes he actually thinks Hawks is hilarious too. There’s the other stuff, too- the way his shoulders relax and his expression softens, sometimes, when he thinks Hawks isn’t looking. How he looks personally offended whenever Hawks manages to drag a moan out of him, but his blue eyes still go dark and interested when Hawks touches him just right.
Also, he’s got a killer set of legs.
Long, long legs that are currently covered in delicate sheer stockings, leading up to a criminally short black slip-on. There’s the barest flash of pale skin between where the stockings end and the dress begins, and when Dabi casually lifts himself off the stool, the movement makes the hem of the dress rise dangerously high.
Normal Dabi’s already plenty attractive, in a grungy, Definitely-Willing-To-Murder-You-And-Doesnt-That-Kinda-Turn-You-On way (which– look, no one ever said that Hawks’ taste in men was any good-), but right now?
Outlined by the backdrop of city lights, blue eyes almost luminescent, the delicate material of his outfit a sharp contrast to the way he looks ready to eat Hawks alive- Right now, Dabi looks like he walked straight out of Hawks’ wildest fantasies.
Hawks doesn’t realize that he hasn’t said anything yet, brain too broken to figure out words, until said wildest fantasy blinks down at him. “Damn. You look like shit.”
“Hghk.” Hawks says.
Dabi raises an eyebrow. Hawks is almost positive he’s wearing eyeliner. Fuck.
“-awks? Hawks? Holy shit, did I fucking break your brain?”
Oh. Right. Words. Speaking. Hawks licks his lips. “Is this– is this for me?”
“Don’t act too thankful. I used your credit card.”
As far as Hawks is concerned, Dabi can commit however much credit card fraud he wants to if it means this is what Hawks gets to come home to. Any earlier thoughts of shower or food or bed are rapidly collapsing into horny confusion instead.
He only realizes that he’s taken too long to respond again when Dabi starts to look a little concerned. “...Did you fall on your head or something? You look like you’re about to collapse.”
Oh, Hawks is about to collapse alright. Collapse right onto that dick. “Can I just- look at you, for a bit?”
Dabi lets out a long suffering sigh but stands back and lets his coat fall off his shoulders to the ground, as if he’s not the one who went to all the trouble of putting on fucking stockings for Hawks in the first place.
Even standing, the slip barely covers his ass. Hell, it barely covers his chest, Hawks notices, head spinning. And– yeah, okay, it’s not really that different from how Dabi normally dresses, mostly because he’s incapable of wearing anything that doesn’t show off at least a little bit of cleavage, but holy shit, he looks gorgeous.
The stockings are long, pulled up all the way to the top of Dabi’s thighs and held in place by black garters that disappear underneath the hem of the dress, and he’s probably been staring at Dabi’s crotch for too long now, but he can’t help it! It’s not his fault Dabi decided to target his weak spot.
So- Hawks has a thing for lingerie. For a career as rough and tumble as being a hero is, where being covered in a mix of sweat and blood is the norm and not the outlier, you learn to gain an appreciation for the nice things. Something about the way delicate fabric settles against the skin, how it softens a person’s sharp edges, just how pretty it looks– yeah. Hawks is into it.
He has no idea how the fuck Dabi found out about his not so secret kink, because its not like Hawks was ever trying to hide it, but he’d never even thought about mentioning it. It hadn’t seemed worth it, when looking all soft and delicate clearly wasn’t the type of look someone like Dabi would be willing to indulge in.
Dabi doesn’t look soft right now. Dabi looks like a weapon.
“So,” Hawks gulps, “This is kind of a thing for me.”
“I couldn’t tell.” Dabi says, pointedly looking down at Hawks’ very obvious hard on.
If he was in his right mind, Hawks would snipe something back, but its hard to think clearly when there’s a very attractive man in front of him dressed up in something straight out of the dirtiest corners of Hawks’ brain.
Dabi rolls his eyes, somehow still managing to look like he’s annoyed to even be here, but he does let out a pleased huff when Hawks moves closer, running his hand over the fragile material of the stocking. He lets his hand wander up further until its up against the garter, all the way to where they run up just barely below the hem of the dress, where black sheer gives way to pale skin.
Even after all these months it’s still always a surprise, how soft and sensitive the skin here is compared to the rest of Dabi’s body.
Hawks slides a hand up past the hem of the slip, only to let out an emphatic swear when his fingers brush up against lace instead of skin. When he lifts the dress up, it’s to a trail of snowy white leading down into low hung black panties, the lace stretched taut against the hard outline of Dabi’s cock.
“Fuck. Dabi–”
For once, Dabi doesn’t say anything, just stares down at him with heavy lidded, curious eyes.
“Flirtatious” isn’t a word he’s ever associated with Dabi– his particular brand of romance manifests more as blunt and a little crude. Neither of them are much for big romantic gestures, preferring to just get into each others pants over any kind of subtle foreplay.
But now, right now…The look on Dabi’s face right now is downright seductive.
Fuck, he’s gorgeous– all dolled up and still looking like he’s ready to commit arson at a moment’s notice. Hawks can’t help but rub his thumb against the growing wet spot on the panties, until Dabi’s cock is visibly straining against the material. He moves his hand down further, past his balls, until Dabi lets out a sharp inhale when Hawks’ fingers press against the outline of something hard and solid.
Fuck.
“How long has this been in here?” Hawks asks, toying with the base of the plug, enjoying the way Dabi twitches every time he angles it a certain way.
“I got bored. You spend too much time at work.”
Which- yes, definitely, absolutely, because if Hawks had known that this was what was waiting for him at home he’d be leaving early every day, paperwork be damned.
Dabi rolls his eyes when Hawks says as much (and god, with the eyeliner even that somehow looks more attractive now), “You would not, you fucking workaholic.”
“Well, I’d leave earlier.” Hawks amends. Probably. Maybe.
He gets a noncommittal grunt in response, which, yeah, okay, Hawks can admit that lately he’s been kind of a crappy– roommate, boyfriend, whatever the fuck they are. All the extra work piling on means that the past few weeks he’s been too exhausted and sore to do anything but immediately collapse into bed once he’s home, usually waking up to a bottle of painkillers and whatever breakfast Dabi had been nice enough to throw together for him before departing for wherever he goes off to during the daytime.
And he’d still gone to all this effort, for Hawks. Dolled himself up. Stretched himself open and got himself ready so Hawks could slide right on in as soon as he got home. He wonders if Dabi fingered himself open before or after getting dressed up. Fuck, how long had he been waiting for Hawks to come back?
Dabi flicks his forehead, looking vaguely irritated that Hawks’ guilty spiral is taking attention away from him. “One fantasy at a time, birdie.”
“Right– sorry. You look great, by the way.” Hawks says, grinning at the way it makes Dabi groan and roll his eyes. Back to normalcy. He gets to work on pulling out the plug, pushing it in and out a few times just for the way it makes Dabi clench and shift his thighs. The panties are quickly becoming ruined, pre come leaking out of Dabi’s dick and seeping into the fabric.
Unfortunately, Hawks terrible work-life balance management means that he hasn’t had a chance to trim his talons in a while, long enough that fingering is definitely a no go, but he goes ahead and summons two of his smaller feathers to slip inside of Dabi once the plug is out, prodding and pushing against his walls. It’s not like Dabi needs it, but teasing him is always worth it for the hitch in his breath whenever Hawks uses his feathers on him.
“Fuck, that always feels so weird.”
Hawks pauses from where he’s been nibbling light kisses into Dabi’s throat “Okay weird, or bad weird?”
“Not- bad, just- nhh.” Dabi lets out a shaky sigh as one of the feathers lightly nudges against his prostate. “...You’re one kinky bastard, you know that?”
Hawks knows from self experimentation what he must be feeling right now– stretched wide but still empty. Even better, he can feel the clench of Dabi’s walls against his feathers, and for as calm and collected as he seems now, there’s no hiding that helpless instinctual movement for more.
“Hey, you can’t be the only one with all the surprises.” Hawks laughs, sucking gentle bruises into the skin of Dabi’s collarbone as he pushes Dabi up against the window so he can grind up against Hawks’ thigh, boots squeaking against the tile floor whenever the feathers inside of him push a little deeper. God, he can’t stop running his hands over the stockings.
It only gets worse when one of the straps of the dress starts slipping off Dabi’s shoulder. When Hawks pulls it down further, it’s to the reveal of a lacy black bralette, though even that feels like a generous description for what’s essentially two scraps of lace connected by some string.
“Oh, come on.” Hawks moans, burying his face into Dabi’s shoulder. “You’re a menace, you know that?”
“You gonna do something about it or not?” Dabi grunts, and Hawks recognizes an unspoken demand when he hears one, takes the opportunity to start pinching and pulling at Dabi’s nipple through the transparent material, until the soft brown of it is bruised and pert and Dabi is gasping above him, Hawks occasionally leaning down to press little kitten licks against him that leave the thin lace damp and clinging to his skin. Dabi’s only got the one nipple left, which is a damn shame considering how riled up he gets in response to any sort of stimulation there, but he’ll make do.
“So,” Hawks asks, presses a talon into Dabi’s scarred side, right over where the bud would have been, careful not to go deep enough to leave a mark but with enough pressure that it still has Dabi squirming against him, “What’re you in the mood for?”
Dabi smirks down at him, expression sultry, “Whatever you want, hero.”
This just isn’t fair. Hawks has always had the sense that Dabi enjoys playing submissive a lot more than he’s willing to admit, but it’s still an unusually generous sentiment from someone who habitually makes Hawks fight tooth and nail for every scrap of control he gives up.
In fact, all of this is pretty damn unusual, enough so that normally Hawks would question it, if it weren’t for the fact that his mind’s already fried from work, and coming home to his boyfriend– roommate– whatever- decked out in pretty black lace has basically killed any remaining brain cells he had left.
Granted, it’s not like he needs them right now. Between how damp and sticky the lace has gotten and the way he can sense Dabi subtly shifting and spasming against the feathers still inside him, it’s pretty damn obvious they’re both on the same page.
For all that Dabi is playing it cool, Hawks knows him and his body, and If they keep on going like this he’s probably not going to stay upright for much longer. And as appealing as the idea of rutting Dabi against the wall until he comes in his panties is, Hawks kind of really needs to get his dick in him. Like, right now.
“Feeling okay up there, matchstick?”
“Feeling bored.” Dabi immediately retorts. “Hurry it up already, would you?”
Hawks rolls his eyes, but he acquiesces, hiking the dress up and the panties down so Dabi’s dick can finally get some much needed relief. “Alright, alright. Always so impatient.”
Under his breath, Dabi grumbles something suspiciously like fastest hero my ass, which Hawks generously chooses to ignore. Besides, however unaffected Dabi might have been acting, his dick is leaking pre come, it’s no wonder his panties were such a mess.
Hawks runs a talon lightly over the slit and chuckles at the involuntary shiver that gets him. “Bored, huh?”
Dabi groans, recognizing a losing argument when he sees one. “Oh, shut up and get in me.”
For all of Dabi’s grousing, Hawks does live up his reputation, and it only takes him a moment to shove his pants down enough to finally get his dick free. When he finally presses Dabi up against the kitchen wall, his legs go around Hawks’ waist immediately, instinctually. Hawks doesn’t hesitate to hold him in place. After the day he’s had, Hawks’ arms momentarily twinge in protest, but he’s still got the build of the #2 Hero, and it doesn’t hurt that Dabi’s rail thin and barely weighs a thing.
“Shit-“ Dabi chokes out, face flushing the way it always does when Hawks decides to indulge in showing off his strength.
“Hold this out of the way,” Hawks demands, moving Dabi’s fingers so that they’re tugging the gusset of his panties to the side, leaving his hole open and exposed.
Here’s the other thing about their relationship: Dabi would never say it outright, but Hawks can tell how badly he wants to be held down and manhandled. Needs it, even. It’s in the way his hands automatically reach for the headboard when they fuck in bed, how his toes curl whenever he’s being particularly bratty and Hawks has to hold his wrists down to get him to behave– Dabi might talk a big game, but they both know what he really wants is to be held down and fucked stupid.
When Dabi tries to shove himself down onto his cock, Hawks lifts him up so that only the head of his dick is inside, too shallow for any real pressure. Dabi still chokes a little at the touch, even if his expression quickly falls back to frustration when his hole clenches down on barely anything.
It’s maybe a dick move to tease him right now, especially when he’s been on such good behavior, but it’s not Hawks’ fault that riling Dabi up is so much fun. He’s just so cute, staring up at the ceiling, fists clenched and teeth gritted from trying to stay in control of his own body, refusing to betray any sort of weakness even as his hole flutters desperately around Hawks’ cock.
Dabi glares, squirming against the rock solid grip Hawks has on his thighs. Its deserved, but Hawks still laughs, nipping lightly at his jaw, “you are such a brat.”
“And you’re a fucking tease.” Dabi replies, voice strained.
“Can’t help it.” Hawks says affectionately. Especially when Dabi looks like this.
Dabi rolls his eyes and reaches a hand down, clearly willing to take care of his own business if Hawks won’t, only to let out a surprised gasp when Hawks immediately lets go of one thigh to slap his hand away. From there, its easy for him to wrap his hand around Dabi’s wrist and hold it in place.
Dabi gapes down at him, brain clearly a little broken from the way Hawks is managing to hold him up one handed.
“Careful there. Keep this up and I might just have to tie you down.”
Dabi licks his lips. “You could. If you wanted to.”
Hawks laughs, unable to help the way his voice goes low and raspy at the sight of him.. “If I wanted to, huh?”
For someone who’s screwed him or been screwed by him in every dirty alley the city has to offer, Dabi really does get so endearingly shy at the smallest things.
As much as the other man may like it, he generally tries to avoid manhandling Dabi too much, even more so now that his body’s finally starting to heal properly after years of mistreated burn wounds. Hawks didn’t used to care, back when this was just the occasional alleyway fuck, but he’s had too many nights now of dealing with unpleasant post orgasm reveals of bloody staples and mangled skin to be anything but gentle while Dabi’s still healing. Granted, that’s easier said than done when you’re fucking someone whose general response to tenderness is to react like an alley cat sprayed with water, but at least Dabi no longer looks like he’ll fall apart from a stiff breeze.
He’s still got Dabi’s wrist held in his hand. It looks better, at least, but not even the best healing quirks can undo a decade’s worth of burn damage. Hawks presses a kiss to the inside of his wrist, soft and sweet, then another kiss against Dabi’s lips for good measure. “Soon. I promise.”
“Whatever.” Dabi mumbles.
Dabi would kill Hawks for thinking that he’s cute, but he is– he’s been so good too, putting up with all of Hawks’ teasing and manhandling. He really does deserve a reward.
Still, that doesn’t mean Hawks can’t have some fun with it. He leans in to kiss Dabi’s adorable little pout away, open mouthed and filthy, and its only when Dabi is thoroughly distracted that Hawks starts pressing himself in.
Fuck, he’s tight. It really has been too long.
Dabi lets out a surprised noise, sweet and unexpected– His voice is pitched so low normally, it makes every high pitched yelp Hawks manages to get out of him all the more worthwhile. Hawks tries to be careful, to find a position that doesn’t have Dabi’s back scraping against the wall or strain his legs too much, but Dabi, unsurprisingly, isn’t having any of it, only letting out a frustrated noise before shoving himself down to the hilt in one sharp movement that leaves them both gasping.
“Fucking hell, Dabi–”
“Move.” Dabi hisses, which, jeez, this is what Hawks gets for being nice.
Hawks starts fucking him, keeping an even pace as Dabi’s hands reach out and tug at his hair. Dabi runs surprisingly cold for someone with a fire quirk, but his breath is warm where he’s gasping out against Hawks’ neck, cut off sighs and moans every time Hawks brushes against that spot inside of him.
“Come on- I know you can be loud. I wanna hear you.”
“Fuck you.” Dabi replies immediately, ever obstinate, but the words are frayed and a little broken at the end, which means Hawks is close to finally fracturing through that casual arrogance. It’s kinda cute that Dabi’s still trying to go for unaffected when he’s the one who went out and bought fucking stockings for Hawks’ benefit. He’s just so pretty when he’s strung out and desperate, Hawks can’t help but tease.
Some of his thoughts must show in his expression, because Dabi narrows his eyes and reaches back to fist his hands in the feathers at the base of Hawks’ wings, right where they’re most sensitive.
“Fuck!” Hawks retaliates on instinct, his next thrust hard enough that Dabi’s eyes practically roll back from it, hips jerking as much as they can with Hawks pressing him into the wall. The stockings are starting to tear under his fingers, talons digging into lace and nylon as Hawks just barely restrains himself from going too hard.
Dabi lets out a frustrated noise, boots deliberately digging into his back, and Hawks knows that means he wants it rougher, wants it faster. He bites his lip in a brief moment of deliberation, before hiking Dabi up so that he’s practically bent in half against the wall, the angle forcing him to all but fall onto Hawks’ dick with each stroke. Dabi gasps, legs spreading to accommodate the new position, fingers digging hard enough into Hawks’ back to leave marks. He’s got no leverage like this, backed against the wall and legs wrapped around Hawks’ waist. He can’t even rock down if Hawks doesn’t let him.
Dabi’s hand is starting to slip, too lost in his own pleasure to remember to hold his panties aside for Hawks. Without breaking his pace, Hawks reaches down, snagging a talon into the lace until it snaps.
“Fuck, fuck fuck–” Dabi yelps out, once Hawks can really start to let loose without the panties in the way, keeping his strokes rough and deep, just the way Dabi likes it.
Hawks laughs as Dabi struggles against him, though the glare he gets in return is undercut by how Dabi’s dick twitches out more precome every time Hawks presses down on him, how his mouth keeps instinctively falling open with pleasure before he remembers to close it.
“Feels good, huh?” Hawks gasps out, partly to check in and partly to see how far he has left to go to drive Dabi into incoherency
“C-Christ, do you ever shut u– uh–!“ Dabi’s voice stutters into another shivery little yelp as Hawks thrusts in at a particularly good angle.
“‘S good for me, too.” Hawks admits, can hear his own voice start to crack and fracture, “Fuck, you’re always so good for me–“
“Hawks–“ Dabi jerks against him, legs shaking as desperation starts to leak into his voice. His chest is flushed and heaving behind the dark lace of his bra, the hem of his dress pooled around his cock in an obscene display that Hawks already knows he’s going to be jerking off to for months to come–
He’s so fucking attractive it makes Hawks’ head spin. It’s imperative, suddenly, to make sure that Dabi knows that too. He hasn’t missed how Dabi practically melts into a puddle anytime Hawks compliments his appearance, and he needs Dabi to get this, to understand how good he looks right now, how good he looks for Hawks, eyeliner smudged to hell and back, still trying so hard to be quiet even when they both know it’s a losing battle-
“You look beautiful, Dabi. Have I said that yet?”
“Keigo,” Dabi gasps out, whatever thin veneer of control he’d kept up until now breaking at last at those words, wrecked and ruined, finally– “Keigo, Keigo-!”
There’s a snapping noise as Hawks’ hands tighten on impulse, just barely restraining himself from breaking skin. Dabi moans above him, long and unabashed, so handsome Hawks can barely stand it–
“So fucking pretty,” Hawks gasps out, “God, how’d I land a guy this gorgeous?”
“Keigo,” Dabi repeats his name, begs, “I need-“
Hawks decides to have mercy on the both of them, turns the pace up a notch until he’s practically fucking Dabi into the wall, swallowing the choked off wail that gets him with a kiss. Dabi isn’t even attempting to be quiet anymore, pleading moans falling freely from his lips, growing in loudness as Hawks keeps on mumbling praise into his ear, beautiful and handsome, got dressed up all pretty and gorgeous just for me-
It’s like he can’t fucking stop, now that he’s started, and Dabi accepts it all, lower lip trembling even as the prettiest moans slip out between those lips. Its like a switch has been flipped– Hawks has never seen him this undone, hadn’t thought it was even possible. Maybe Dabi’s the same, if the shocked little ah and uh noises he’s making on each thrust are any indication
Dabi’s close, must be from the way he’s trembling and shaking against Hawks. All he needs is a little more to tip him over the edge. Hawks goes faster, feathers moving up and out to hold Dabi in place so Hawks can really go to town on his ass.
Its only then that Hawks hears it– between the moans and the harsh slap of skin on skin, Dabi mumbling out in a voice so small Hawks almost doesn’t catch it-
“P-please…”
Something sparks in Hawks at that, hot and dangerous, and he barely even knows what he’s doing until he’s already lifted Dabi up and off the wall, ignoring his yelp of surprise to deposit him onto the kitchen island, presses down on him until Dabi’s back is on the stone and his ass is in the air, legs hefted up over Hawks’ shoulders. When he pins Dabi’s wrists above his head and shoves back into him, the resulting noise he makes is loud and wanton and perfect.
The new angle makes it way easier for Hawks to pick up the pace. He keeps his grip light, still cognizant of the half healed skin even in the haze of lust, but Dabi doesn’t seem to care at all, his entire body quivering underneath him, teetering on the edge of orgasm as he trembles and curses and begs-
He’s a complete mess, stockings torn from where Hawks had gotten a little too enthusiastic, the bottom of his dress pulled up to expose his dick and the top pulled down to expose his chest, his nipple still scraped flushed and sore against the thin black material of the bra. He’s the most gorgeous thing Hawks has ever seen in his life.
“Hey, Beautiful,” Hawks mumbles, “You said whatever I wanted, right?”
Dabi makes a noise that sounds suspiciously close to a sob. When Hawks leans down to suck at his nipple through the bra, hard and merciless, Dabi howls, entire body seizing up and somehow going even tighter around Hawks’ cock as he finally comes all over that pretty dress. He shoots further than Hawks has ever seen from him, come spattering across his chest and neck, some of it even landing in his mouth-
God, he’s fucking perfect. Hawks can feel pleasure pooling in his core, knows that he’s gotta be close–
Dabi is almost completely slack against him, quiet again save for the weak little whimpering noises he makes each time Hawks brushes over his prostate as he chases his own release, trembling against him, hands clutched in his hair like a lifeline. It’s all too much– that ruined and desperate voice, those sheer covered legs trembling and shifting against his back, Dabi–
“Touya–“
Hawks comes, shoving himself as deep as he can into Dabi, whining out when Dabi, overstimulated and fucked out as he is, still clenches down against him, making sure to draw out Hawks’ orgasm as long as possible. Even after all that prep, he’s still so tight, hot and perfect and taking Hawks’ come inside him like he was meant for it.
It takes Hawks a long moment to recover from what genuinely might be the best orgasm of his life. Fuck, it feels like his brain got sucked out through his dick– though if that’s the state he’s in, Dabi is even more out of it. Hawks takes care to be extra gentle when he slips out of him, chirping reassuring noises when Dabi whines a little at the loss and letting out another whimper at the gush of come that spills out of him, spattering onto the kitchen tiles in a mess Hawks is definitely not cleaning up tonight.
Still, Hawks can’t help but push some of it back in, even as Dabi hisses through his teeth at the feeling of it. He’s not sure where the butt plug rolled off to, which means one of them is definitely going to trip on it tomorrow morning, but fuck it. That’s a problem for future Hawks.
It takes a moment for him to catch his breath, before he’s able to readjust his grip on Dabi and take them both to the bedroom. Dabi’s still slumped against him, doesn’t do anything but let out a small whine when Hawks gently deposits him onto the bed before falling face down onto it himself.
Oof, his arms really are sore. Maybe wall sex hadn’t been the brightest idea.
Looking over at Dabi, though, he can’t find it in himself to regret it, because Dabi looks absolutely wrecked. Dress hiked up and spattered in come, stockings torn and a pair of soaked panties dangling off one ankle. Hawks must’ve ripped both garters off at some point because they’re nowhere in sight
His expression is still unfocused, chest flushed and panting slightly as he comes down from his orgasm. Dabi usually needs a few minutes to recover after he comes from bottoming, pliant and oversensitive to even the lightest of touches, but he seems extra out of it today, dazed and trembling even now. Hawks brushes sweaty bangs away from his eyes and starts looking him over for any signs of scrapes or tearing. Even though he knows Dabi doesn’t care, his stomach still twists in guilt at the talon shaped bruises dotting his thighs, the way his back is a little roughed up from being crowded up against the wall.
Dabi looks like he’s about to pass out, so Hawks takes the initiative and starts cleaning up the mess that’s dripping sluggishly out of his hole and down his thigh. Part of him wants to leave Dabi like this, stuffed full and leaking come, but prior experience has shown that it’s not worth having to deal with a pissy firebreather in the morning. Still, he can’t resist one last pass over Dabi’s prostate as he cleans him up, grinning in relief at the groan that gets him, halfway between annoyed and resigned.
All the tension he’d felt earlier melts out of him, replaced with something perilously close to affection. Hawks starts massaging soothing circles into Dabi’s thighs and back as he slowly drifts back into awareness, shifting and sighing against the bed. After a few minutes, Dabi leans up to blink blearily at Hawks.
“Hey there.”
“Nrgh.” Dabi’s voice is almost completely fried, unsurprising considering how loud he’d gotten at the end.
“So,” Hawks asks, tracing a finger over the tattered remains of a stocking, “What’s the occasion?”
There’s a moment of silence before Dabi squints at him, incredulousness taking over the hazy look in his eyes. “Seriously? It’s your birthday, moron.”
Hawks blinks.
That– can’t be right. Last Hawks checked, they’re barely into December-
As if on cue, his phone lets out another accusatory ding.
…
Huh.
“Uh,” Hawks says, lamely, “I’ve been busy?”
With an expression on his face like his attraction to Hawks is physically paining him, Dabi manages to flip himself over so he can fully face Hawks. “I know all your personal info’s ‘redacted’ ” Dabi says, somehow summoning the energy from post orgasmic bliss to raise his fingers into quotation marks, because they could literally both be dying and Dabi would still find a way to drag his body over to Hawks to get one last dig in, “-But did you seriously forget your own birthday?”
Hawks lets out an embarrassed groan, burying his face into the pillow. “Can we go back to the part where you were moaning my name?”
“Fuck off.” Dabi shoots back, though the parts of his face that are still capable of it immediately flush pink.
“Noooo,” Hawks whines, flopping over so he can nuzzle his face against Dabi’s cheek, making sure to get as much stubble in there as possible, “It’s my birthday, you have to be nice to me.”
“It’s 1:28.” Dabi says crankily, but he still allows Hawks to pull him closer and start peppering his face with kisses. Together, they manage to get the remnants of the dress and panties off. Hawks starts to unclip the bra before Dabi reaches out a hand to grab his wrist, cheeks red and blatantly refusing to look Hawks in the eye
“Leave it. ‘S fine.”
“Sure.” Hawks says agreeably, even as his brain strokes out a little bit at the thought that Dabi might be into this beyond the fact that it makes Hawks want to fuck his brains out.
Dabi looks like he really doesn’t want to talk about it, but Hawks can’t help but cup his chest, stroking delicate circles around the nipple. He really is a vision, sprawled across Hawks’ bed sheets, thighs open and wearing nothing but a black bra and torn stockings.
Hawks wonders how he’d look in red.
“...I meant it. You really do look beautiful.” Hawks finally says quietly, doesn’t miss the way Dabi shudders underneath him at beautiful, “I mean, you always do, but– wow.”
“…You have horrible taste in men.” Dabi replies after a moment, but at least he sounds more resigned about it instead of outright rejecting the compliment, so Hawks will count it as progress.
“Well, that part we definitely agree on. Doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful, though.” He presses a kiss to the corner of Dabi’s jaw. “Thanks for this. Really.”
“Yeah, well. Not like I didn’t get anything out of it.” Dabi’s cheeks are flushed. It’s adorable, but he’d kill Hawks for saying that out loud, so Hawks just presses another kiss to his shoulder and hopes Dabi understands what he means anyways.
Dabi still has his stupid boots on, but Hawks can’t find it in himself to care anymore.
Maybe he’ll take tomorrow off.