Chapter Text
Chapter Eleven: Rising Tide (you can't dive under a tidal wave and hope to survive it)
The night passed slowly as Hawks stayed awake to watch over Dabi as the man slept. With only the pale moonlight coming through the window, sometimes it looked like Dabi wasn't even moving at all. Whatever drugs he had taken made his breaths so shallow and slow. Hawks worried sometimes that Dabi's lips were turning blue, but then Dabi would take a deep breath, and color would seemingly return to him. Hawks desperately wanted to sleep, but he worried that Dabi would be dead in the morning.
And so he sat watching with his knees curled up under his chin - so reminiscent of when Hawks would watch over his father all night as a child, long before he learned to stop caring if the drunkard old man woke up or not in the morning.
Old anger flickered through Hawks. He didn't want to be here. He grimaced like an angry gargoyle, but he wouldn't look away. Even as Hawks' eyes dried out and his vision swam, Hawks watched over Dabi. Rarely blinking. Rarely moving. Hawks simply sat with his back guarding against the bedroom door that didn't lock, and he listened as this wretched old house creaked and groaned around him.
This godforsaken place sounded so much like his childhood home as the old floorboards creaked with old ghosts, and cold wind slipped through broken windows making it impossible to ever feel warm, and water droplets echoed in the silence from every single broken faucet in the house. Every. Single. Faucet.
Another heavy water drop plopped in the bathroom sink. Hawks' eye twitched. He had already tried plugging the faucet with cheap toilet paper, but the wad of paper had soaked through quickly, and now Hawks had half a mind to rip the entire plumbing system out of the wall.
No, that would be crazy, he told himself. He was just hungover and angry and hungry. He'd hardly eaten in a week and it was aggravating his temper.
Hawks sighed and ran his hands through his hair. His fingertips came back greasy, having spent so much time in showers recently with Dabi, but never taking the time to take care of himself. Hawks' stomach rumbled loudly and he cringed at the feeling of his stomach eating itself.
Another water droplet plopped in the sink.
Hawks clenched his teeth.
He craved the way a nice cold beer could have dulled his senses. Made his mind a little slower. Made his hearing a little less intense so the world wasn't constantly screaming at him.
He wanted a beer so he didn't have to think about the holes in the walls that reminded him of his angry drunk of a father.
Another drop.
"God damn it," groaned Hawks under his breath.
He hadn't thought about his father in decades.
And he wouldn't start now.
Hawks refocused on Dabi's pallid skin and gray tinged lips. He had a person to protect, and he could focus every single bit of energy on that, instead of the hunger that made him feel like a malnourished kid again. Instead of the sounds that drove him crazy and made him want to drink, instead of the knowledge that he'd never be good enough - just like his father had bellowed at him - it wasn't possible anymore, not after that day in the field.
Another droplet. Off-beat and impossible to ignore.
"Fuck," Hawks groaned and covered his ears. He wanted to leave and fly far away, back to his sound proofed apartment where everything was pristine and well-cared for and didn't constantly remind him that he came from nothing and he'd never be more than nothing because he'd already done one of the most horrible fucking things a human could ever do to another person. He'd just stood there - like a useless -
"Fuck," Hawks cursed again but it sounded more like a pitiful whimper as he held his head in his hands.
Hawks' wings stretched out on their own accord as if calling to him to fly away from here - to go home - to go back to being a hero where everyone thought he was good enough - but Hawks drew his wings back tight against his body until they ached.
Hawks wouldn't leave Dabi alone again. He wouldn't fail him again. Not here. Not again. Not in this den of predators looking for any moment to take advantage of Dabi's mental illnesses and addictions.
Hawks could be good. He could be useful. He could help now, even if he couldn't before.
Hawks took a few deep breaths in and out - just like he had breathed for countless hours of anger management therapy sessions. Hawks counted the seconds to fall back into a place of sharp, unemotional focus.
His expression smoothed.
His eyes dulled.
His wings stopped flitting and giving him away.
He could be useful, even if he was nothing.
And so he started to plan the next course of action.
Hawks knew that the most worthwhile course of action would be to take Dabi away from this place.
But then he considered that Endeavor had spies- just like Hawks - planted all throughout the country, just waiting and watching for a single misstep. And Hawks couldn't really hide his wings. He considered a long list of friends and heroes he didn't trust. He considered the fact that he didn't have any money when he ran out the door.
Hawks rubbed his aching temples as he tried to see a way out of this terrible place.
He considered at least dragging Dabi to a nearby clinic for a prescription for real medicine.
But even with a new face - (although perhaps still recognizable if anyone paid too much attention to the piercing pattern) - Dabi was an obvious addict with no government ID. Endeavor was probably waiting for notifications of any patients flagged as homeless addicts in the system. That's what Hawks would have done.
Hawks considered looking for the League himself and forcing Dabi to go home to them - but Hawks knew he'd never find the League. It had been years upon years of fruitless efforts.
Hawks settled on the idea that he needed to access his bank accounts, forge a few documents that Endeavor couldn't trace, and pay for a new private place for Dabi to stay until he got back on his feet. But that would take a while.
Nothing was immediately helpful, and Hawks couldn't see the path forward anymore. He had been so sure when they ran out of his apartment - he'd been so sure that he could protect everyone...
Hawks' eyes started to flutter shut occasionally, but then he'd hear the creaking of the quiet house, and he'd be back on high alert. He wouldn't fail Dabi again. He didn't care if Dabi wanted to fuck those guys or not - he didn't care if Dabi wanted drugs to forget his traumas.
Hawks wouldn't allow it to continue. He'd get Dabi out of here. He'd get Dabi cleaned up, sober, and properly medicated.
Hawks' head drooped, and he snapped it back up to attention.
The light of dawn crept through the moth bitten excuse for a curtain.
And Dabi finally stirred. His toes twitched. His fingers curled tightly into fists.
Then Dabi twisted and turned under Hawks' jacket that acted as his own source of warmth. This was the first real sign of life in his body all night. Dabi muttered unintelligible things under his breath. His brows creased. He looked like he was having nightmares.
Hawks didn't want to wake him. He didn't want Dabi to run straight for more drugs the moment he remembered the root of his nightmares.
So Hawks stayed far away and just watched and waited.
"Please don't make me leave - " breathed Dabi so softly that Hawks barely heard it, "I don't wanna go."
Dabi's sleeping face scrunched up tight, and a single tear dripped down his nose while he slept.
Hawks' frowned and leaned forward. It didn't sound like that morning in the field.
"Please, please, please," breathed Dabi, twisting his neck away from something in his nightmares, "Don't make me go."
Hawks reached out, but let his hand fall back into his lap. Nothing good would come from waking Dabi. He was sure.
It sounded like Dabi was dreaming about this place. This terrible place. Hawks vaguely remembered Dabi saying that someone had sold him once.
Hawks' eyes started to blur. He wanted to gut the people that hurt this man. He wanted to make them suffer.
But Hawks took a deep breath instead. Anger wouldn't serve him here. Anger wouldn't help Dabi escape and heal and move on with his life. Hawks counted the seconds until the sun peeked over the window sill. He pressed his anger down, and tried to replace it with kindness.
Hawks crawled forward on his hands and knees and slid into bed next to Dabi as the morning light grew brighter. Dabi's breath hitched as Hawks pulled him close, spooning him and adding warmth to his frigid body.
"Let me stay," Dabi pleaded with ghosts in his sleep. His face twisted and aching.
Hawks pulled him closer.
"You can stay with me," whispered Hawks against the pierced shell of Dabi's ear.
"Don't send me away," Dabi begged softly.
"I won't send you away - you can stay with me," whispered Hawks, brushing sweaty hair from Dabi's forehead. Answering some deep trauma that Hawks was sure he didn't understand. Dabi's body started to relax. His breathing started to ease.
"I'll take care of you," whispered Hawks as he hugged Dabi tighter - speaking on his own behalf now. But deep down, he feared it wouldn't be possible. So many people were desperate to hurt the man in his arms - and so many people had already succeeded.
"I'm sorry I was angry," Hawks confessed softly into Dabi's sleeping ears, "I was drunk. I was stupid. I'm so so sorry."
Hawks cringed at the words that sounded just like his own father in that moment - Hawks wished he could turn back time and handle everything differently.
But he couldn't. And so he did as his therapists always advised - he focused on acceptance.
He could accept that maybe Dabi didn't like Hawks the way Hawks liked Dabi. Hawks had already accepted that perhaps Dabi had just been using him all along. That everything had been a lie because Hawks had backed Dabi into a corner. That was fine . Hawks could be used. Being useful to Dabi would be the best thing he'd ever do. But he'd have to stop letting his emotions get away from him. He'd need to stop saying terrible things he didn't mean.
Hawks sighed. One moment in particular came to mind and he winced.
"I shouldn't have...I don't think you're disgusting," muttered Hawks softly as he gently rubbed the tension out of the knots in Dabi's shoulder blades, "I'm sorry I said that. I think you're..."
Hawks didn't know how to describe the man that consumed his every waking thought and action. Hawks had been consumed for months. Obsessed even. It made sense when they were enemies, but Hawks was still consumed, and they weren't really enemies anymore.
Hawks was getting sleepy. His thoughts were blending together like weaving cotton. What was Dabi, if not an enemy? Hawks remembered the first time they met.
~
"The hell is this?" Hawks slurred as his tongue grew numb and heavy after drinking from his beer bottle. He'd only looked away for one moment when a fight broke out across the bar. He'd turned his head for just a few seconds when a man in an ill fitting suit sat down next to him.
"Need me to call a cab, angel?" the man whispered, too close for comfort as his cheap cologne and breath mints assaulted the senses.
Hawks tried to stand up, but his legs weren't listening. His wings were heavy and limp on his back. His vision swam as his brain chugged along to keep up. His eyes went to his drink. Something tasted bitter on his tongue
"You..." Hawks breathed, his fury barely visible as his face went slack against his will.
"Let me help you get home," the man practically purred, his clammy hands wrapping across Hawks' waist and hoisting him up off the bar stool.
The room spun and the air started to heat up.
"I thought I told you to never show your ugly ass face in this bar ever again," rumbled a deep voice behind them.
Those clammy hands were yanked away, and then a man was screaming.
Hawks used the last of his control to turn to look - and there he was in all his hellfire glory - Dabi, the infamous League of Villains arsonist that Hawks had been searching for for months. Dabi was suddenly there - looming over the would-be serial rapist, doused in glorious blue flames - so hot that the air around him warped with ribbons of heat and made it hard to see - but gleaming bright in the blue cast of hellfire were wild eyes and teeth bared in a demonic imitation of glee.
The fire stopped, and the man was still screaming.
Hawks was sweating and sinking to the floor as his muscles became useless.
The man fled while clawing at the pink flesh below a charred stump that used to be a hand.
Falling with a thump on the sticky bar floor, Hawks stared up with his head resting limp against the bar stool.
"Heh, I knew a pretty boy hero like yourself couldn't handle a dive like this," said Dabi with a sharp smirk and eyes that were softer than Hawks expected, "You're lucky I was watching you."
Then hot arms were lifting him up, carrying him out into the warm summer night, setting him down gently before using Hawks' phone to call random contacts until a hero friend agreed to come pick him up. Hawks passed out on the sidewalk long before his friend came, but he woke up to Dabi's number in his phone, and a wallet completely emptied of cash and coin.
Hawks had been angry at the theft. He'd wondered if Dabi's phone number were a trap.
He hadn't seen the simple kindness in the moment - a kindness he hadn't realized that he himself was lacking.
~
Hawks came back to himself, and his guts were twisted in guilt and regret. Hawks had come to realize that beyond the labels of Villain and Hero - Dabi was just fundamentally better than Hawks. In every way that mattered. Even though he was dangerous felon with a laundry list of kills too long to count - Dabi was still kinder. More compassionate. He was rude and surly and snarky - but he was gentle when it mattered.
Hawks was not.
But maybe...Hawks could try to be better too.
Hawks sighed. He wished desperately that he could be the person that Dabi needed.
Until then, Hawks just rubbed his thumb in gentle circles against Dabi's back until the muscles loosened, and the sleeping man sighed gently. The nightmares seemed to ease.
Hawks started to close his eyes, feeling warm and drowsy after staying up all night. Hawks nuzzled his face into Dabi's hair. He smelled like liquor and other men. Hawks' heart ached, but he tried to accept it. An exclusive relationship wasn't what Dabi needed right now - might not ever need - not with Hawks, at least.
That was fine. Hawks would still do his best to protect Dabi until the very end.
Soon, Hawks fell asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around Dabi, unable to fight sleep any longer as their bodies grew warm together beneath the morning sun and Hawks' cozy wings.
~~~
Dabi woke up groaning at the tight embrace around his ribs, and the warmth of a body behind him. Anxiety bubbled up through his stomach and into his chest - just for a moment, because he didn't recognize where he was at first, or who was behind him. All he knew for a moment was that his body ached just like it always ached after being fucked by people who didn't give a shit about him.
But then he saw the blood red wings that encased him over night, keeping him warm and keeping him safe. Dabi let out a rattling exhale.
It was just Hawks. His angry guardian angel. But Dabi couldn't remember how he'd gotten here, wrapped in pretty wings. He frowned and closed his eyes again to put the puzzle pieces back together. Slowly, memories flickered to life behind his eyelids.
Gunslinger's cock down his throat. The stolen pills in the bathroom. The stranger who'd apparently fucked him when he passed out. Hawks losing his shit, and Dabi pretending that everything was okay.
The memories kept replaying in his mind, so visceral that Dabi felt like he was reliving every moment of last night - except there was one major difference now in the sober light of day.
Dabi felt... nothing. Not really.
Last night, he'd been emotionally raw, like his guts were on display for everyone to see... but now...
Dabi blinked slowly. He was just tired.
His head was pounding. His stomach burned. His body was dry and dehydrated. And his heart had been wrung out until nothing was left.
A vague sense of shame and rejection prickled over his skin, but the shadows in his mind washed everything away until there was only apathy.
Dabi considered that perhaps he should have been upset that someone random asshole had fucked him without asking. Perhaps it should have felt like rape. But...it didn't. It didn't feel like anything at all. Except his body hurt. And his brain hurt. And he felt like someone was watching him even though he knew that it was just him and Hawks alone in this room together.
Or maybe he was alone. Maybe Hawks had died in that alley and Dabi had walked here alone.
Dabi reached out slowly and brushed his fingertips across Hawks' bruised cheekbone. He felt real.
But so did the burning hands on his body. Maybe that was all he could feel. Burning hands and shadows and fire that wasn't his.
Dabi started to drift back to that fateful morning. His stomach lurched with sudden anxiety that broke through the apathy with alarming force.
He couldn't do this. He couldn't sit through this as if everything wasn't terribly wrong with him.
Hawks would be so angry.
But Dabi just couldn't - and the anxiety propelled him forward.
"Sorry," muttered Dabi as he stood up without looking back.
Dabi snuck into the bathroom and checked the vent stash first, but the tackle box of pills had already been moved to another location. Only a minor setback.
Dabi snuck out of the room and down the stairs with Hawks' flying coat still wrapped tightly around his body like a security blanket.
Pathetic.
His father had burned his favorite blanket. Dabi clutched the jacket tighter.
Dabi picked up his pace as he rushed towards the kitchen where at least he'd find hard liquor, if nothing else.
But just around the corner, Dabi heard familiar grumpy muttering. Dabi peaked into the kitchen like a child that shouldn't have been out of bed.
It was him . Gunslinger. Tall and burly with his cartel tattoos and hairy arms on display without long sleeves to cover them up. With visible knife wounds and a bullet wound passing through his shoulder, it was strange to watch him cleaning up trash and broken beer bottles in the early morning.
Dabi swayed off balance, and a floorboard creaked under his feet.
Gunslinger whipped around. His free hand went straight to the gun at his hip. His other hand clenched down hard on a broken shard of glass.
"Damn it, Touya, stop sneaking up on me like that," Gunslinger cursed under his breath when he recognized Dabi, as if so many years hadn't passed. Gunslinger's frown deepened. Dark red blood dripped from where the green glass was still embedded in his palm. Red drops spattered on the floor, and Dabi had half a mind to be nervous. His father would have killed him.
"Sit," was all that Gunslinger said, and Dabi sat at the kitchen counter silently. Obedient to this man in a way that Dabi had never been for anyone else.
Gunslinger watched Dabi with a curious frown, and then turned away to rinse his hand in the sink. He pulled out the glass with a grunt and a shudder of his bulky shoulders. So human. Experiencing pain. Cleaning up like a maid in the morning. Domestic and soft. This didn't seem like the same man who had called on Dabi to commit countless atrocities in his name.
No, it couldn't be.
This person was too soft. This person wasn't real. Dabi felt his brain creaking and paranoid that something was fundamentally wrong in this moment.
"Don't stare at me like that, Touya," Gunslinger grunted as he pulled a first aid kit out of the cabinets, "I don't want to have to tell you again."
Dabi blinked his dry blue eyes and looked down at the drops of blood on the floor. The blood spots blinked back at him in return. Watched him. Dabi started to fidget.
"You're losing it again, aren't you?" asked Gunslinger, now sitting in a stool next to Dabi as he tried to tie the bandage with thick, clumsy fingers.
Dabi frowned. When had gunslinger sat down next to him? He was just at the sink. Dabi was losing track of time and it felt like his head was splitting open. He rubbed the space between his brows.
"Talk to me, Touya," said Gunslinger easily, the amateur bandages coming undone again, "What's goin' on with you? I heard you sobered up. Saw you in the news even. Why're you back here?"
Dabi scratched his nails against the thick grease on the kitchen counter top. The last thing he wanted was to tell Gunslinger why he was here. After all, he'd only come back here to forget.
But then Gunslinger squeezed Dabi's shoulder lightly - an imitation of comfort - and Dabi closed his eyes for only a moment.
"I need to forget someone," muttered Dabi.
"I can help with that," said Gunslinger, a smile cutting over his face for the first time that morning. Dabi knew that smile. Gunslinger had found a way in, but Dabi couldn't bring himself to care.
The bandage slipped from Gunslinger's fingers again just before he could finish the knot.
"You're doing it all wrong," said Dabi rather abruptly, "It'll get infected like that."
Dabi didn't want to talk about his problems. He didn't want Gunslinger digging around in his head anymore. And so he changed the topic, ignoring the way Gunslinger's eyes narrowed in displeasure.
Without asking, Dabi took Gunslinger's thick, leathery hand between his own smooth, brand new palms. He unwrapped the failed bandages with a gentle touch. The cut from the glass was deep, and blood was still pooling in the palm and running through the creased, calloused skin.
"Hold on," Dabi muttered as he got up to mix water and table salt.
Dabi dabbed the saltwater on the cut, holding the hand firmly when Gunslinger flinched. Dabi looked up and stared at those worried black eyes. Dabi hesitated a moment too long. It was the first time Dabi has ever seen weakness in the man.
Maybe old age had softened him.
"You know, we could still use someone like yourself - we have some borrowers who've failed to make payments despite proper notice on our part," Gunslinger grunted.
Or maybe he hadn't softened at all.
Maybe it was Dabi who had softened, because his stomach rolled at the thought of hunting down debtors who were probably just down on their luck. He didn't feel like listening to the screams of the damned. He didn't feel like trying to wash the scent of burnt hair out of his clothing.
Dabi just muttered, "I don't like to ruin things anymore."
Gunslinger snorted, perhaps disbelief. Perhaps an assertion that he would still bend Dabi to his will regardless.
Dabi rinsed Gunslingers hand with fresh water. He took long lengths of fresh bandage, and began to wrap Gunslinger's hand anew.
"I'll change the bandages tomorrow. But you might need stitches if it doesn't stop bleeding soon, " muttered Dabi as his hands dropped back to his sides and he waited for the right moment to ask for what he really wanted.
"I don't do doctors," Gunslinger said as he flexed his hand and tested the bandages.
"I know. I'll stitch it," said Dabi.
"Where the hell did you learn that?" the man asked, gruff and disbelieving.
Dabi shrugged. He didn't really like doctors either, but he was always getting injured. It was a skill learned from necessity.
His technique has been shoddy and ugly at first, but Toga liked to watch surgery videos online late and night - and Dabi didn't like to be alone when he woke up with cravings, so he watched those grotesque videos with her. Eventually, his technique improved.
Dabi knew Gunslinger didn't actually care, and so he only shrugged in response.
There was a pause as Gunslinger watched Dabi with those beady black eyes that never stopped calculating. Finally, Gunslinger smirked and rubbed the scruff of his morning stubble.
"So, you're tired of ruining things, what do you like to do instead?" Gunslinger asked, always collecting information, always trying to find out how to use someone.
But that was the insidious part of Gunslinger. He was a good listener, and that was all Dabi ever wanted - for someone to listen to him. Someone to care - or at least pretend to care.
Dabi knew what the man was doing, but he found himself answering honestly.
"I dunno - drugs, I guess," Dabi muttered. He didn't really like anything anymore. But he liked to be high and drunk and fucked up until the shadows stopped whispering in his ears.
Gunslinger laughed long and loud.
"It's a waste of your talents, Touya," he said, but Dabi didn't care. Then Gunslinger pulled pills from his pockets and offered one with an outstretched hand.
Dabi stared at the pill. He recognized this one in particular. It wasn't strong enough to really make a dent in his troubles. Dabi sneered as he brushed Gunslinger's hand away, like he had been insulted. Because this was how Gunslinger kept his whores addicted after getting them hooked with the good stuff first.
"C'mon, you know what I want," Dabi muttered.
The light of self-respect was still out - he didn't want to pretend that he was better than this anymore.
Dabi stepped forward and closed the distance between them. He pressed up against the larger man, dense with muscle and fat that Dabi could sink into - but it was like seeking comfort from a stone. It just wasn't possible.
Gunslinger wrapped an arm around Dabi's waist and held Dabi close. Gunslinger slipped the pill between Dabi's lips anyways. Dabi swallowed without hesitation. Gunsinger smiled like he was winning a game.
"There you go, kid.”
"Stop doing that," Dabi muttered with averted eyes as he straddled one thick thigh.
"What?" Gunslinger asked with a lazy tone, threading his fingers through Dabi's hair, grabbing Dabi's ass and pulling him forward to grind against Gunslinger's thigh.
"Stop calling me that. I'm not a kid anymore," Dabi murmured.
"Then don't act like a kid," Gunslinger said easily, his calloused hands roaming under Dabi's shirt to follow the silver snakes of left over piercings.
Dabi began rolling his hips slowly against Gunslinger's thigh, chasing friction that wouldn't harden his cock, but he knew what Gunslinger liked - loose and wanton whores that knew how to put on a show. Dabi threw his head back and closed his eyes. He felt teeth sinking into the column of his throat just shy of breaking skin.
Dabi grabbed Gunslinger's wounded hand and sucked the tobacco stained fingers into his mouth. Dabi swirled his tongue down the knuckles, far past his gag reflex. He pulled away with fluttering lashes. A thick bridge of spit connected him to Gunslinger's fingers. Dabi's guided those spit-slicked fingers down to his pants - Hawks’ pants - and Gunslinger’s hand slipped under the waistband. Gunslinger's wet fingers found his asshole with easy precision, and he pressed two blunt fingertips at the entrance unabashedly.
Dabi's thoughts were stuck in the past.
"I don't act like a kid," he muttered as he drew the flat of his palm over Gunslinger's growing cock.
Gunslinger tched, and Dabi frowned.
“I don't,” Dabi muttered as he leaned his forehead down on Gunslinger's shoulder.
Gunslinger's free hand wrapped around Dabi's throat, pushing him up and away from any potential comfort his shoulder may have offered Dabi.
“You do,” said Gunslinger, firm this time.
“I don't,” said Dabi, an edge forming in his voice. This was a decade old disagreement.
Those black eyes narrowed.
"You steal shit you shouldn't steal," said Gunslinger as Dabi felt fingers digging into his neck. Gunslinger stood from his seat at the counter and lifted Dabi up with him. With a grunt, Dabi was hefted further upwards until Dabi’s toes badly brushed the floor. Dabi's fingers wrapped around the vice grip around his throat, and pressure began to build in his skull.
Gunslinger continued with a snarl, "You forget yourself, Touya. There are rules here. Rules you shouldn't break if you want to stay."
The words stung - once more this man threatened to reject him - and Dabi started to feel lightheaded as his arteries protested the chokehold. Just when Dabi thought he might pass out, Gunslinger whipped him around, and slammed him chest first into the kitchen counter. The breath was forced out of his lungs with a deep grunt, and then Gunslinger was rutting hard and slow against his ass.
“I paid for what I stole,” Dabi bit out against the sticky counter.
“No, Sasu took what you owed him,” Gunslinger corrected firmly, his fingers slipping back down into Dabi's pants.
Dabi opened his mouth to say something snarky - now that he knew exactly which ugly balding bastard had fucked him last night - but instead Dabi gasped when two thick fingers sank deep and rough into his body.
“Fuck,” Dabi gasped and writhed at the immediate stretch, his fingers grasping and slipping over the greasy granite countertop. His eyes scrunched shut and feeling much too sober.
"You know - if you didn't piss people off so badly, they wouldn't treat you like shit all the time," Gunslinger advised as he slowly pumped his fingers halfway in and out in a way that was just shy of burning.
Dabi snorted in sharp annoyance.
"Is that all? People treat me like shit because I piss them off? Good to fucking know - I never fucking thought of that before," Dabi snapped.
Then Gunslinger grabbed Dabi's hair in a tight grip and yanked Dabi up until his back arched and his throat was straining backwards like an archers bow.
"You're pissing me off right now," rumbled Gunslinger low in Dabi's ear, "You want me to treat you like shit?"
Dabi snarled. He was too sober for this.
"Fuck you," Dabi spat as he elbowed Gunslinger's arms away and twisted around so that they were eye to eye again.
Dabi had half a mind to leave because Gunslinger wasn't giving him better drugs, and he didn't come here to just be insulted and told that everything bad in his life was all his fault- he already knew it was his fault - he should have left - but the angry words were tumbling out before he could stop them.
"I've never wanted you to treat me like shit, but you always did. Always . I did everything that you asked. I became everything you wanted me to be,” Dabi shouted inches from Gunslinger’s hard, silent glare.
The lack of a response ripped through Dabi like a serrated blade.
Dabi wanted this man to show an honest fucking emotion for once in his goddamn life.
Rage and shadows flared in his chest and blinded him to the fear Gunslinger had instilled in him ages ago.
Dabi snarled and shoved Gunslinger hard, but the muscle bound man hardly took two steps back. A thin grimace cut at his lips, and those dark dead eyes glinted with anger and malice, but he didn’t respond.
"So help me god , if I'm a little hard to be around after you turned me into a murderous, drugged up, WHORE," shouted Dabi, his eyes wide and crazed with his teeth bared, "You fucked me up - and then you fucking SOLD me, after everything I did for you, you fucking piece of shit asshole motherFUCKER!"
Silence. Dabi saw red.
Dabi shoved Gunslinger again, harder, but this time Gunslinger didn't stumble. Instead, he caught Dabi by the wrist, and pulled the sleeve down to reveal Dabi’s suppression cuff.
Gunslinger's lips pulled up at the edges with a cruel realization.
Dabi was panting as Gunslinger started to laugh.
Then Gunslinger backhanded Dabi so hard that his neck cracked and his body careened down - his temple hitting the counter edge as he thumped to the floor.
Dabi saw stars and shadows spinning in his vision. His fingers drifted up to his temple and then came back bright red with blood.
"I just wanted you to give one single shit about me," Dabi mumbled as his head started to pound in time with his erratic heartbeat, "Is that so much to ask? Is that so terrible?"
"Pathetic child."
"Get up, Touya. GET UP."
"God, you sound just like my dad," mumbled Dabi as he held his head in his hands. Voices were yelling at him. He couldn't tell who was speaking anymore. If it was the past or the present or just his imagination.
Then frustrated hands were pulling him up, bending him over the counter, yanking and ripping his pants at the seams until scraps fell around his ankles. Broad hands spread his bare ass cheeks, and thick, cold spit shot down his ass crack.
The breathing sounds were back in his ears. The wind was whistling over his skin. Dabi pressed his palms against both ears.
"Shut up," Dabi begged under his breath.
If Gunslinger was put off by Dabi's obvious descent into madness and distress, his cock showed no signs of it. The dry, thick length rutted along Dabi's crack, and more spit eased the path.
A wide palm came down to rest and pressed Dabi's face firmly into the countertop. Gunslinger lined his flared tip up against Dabi's entrance with an unrelenting pressure.
"You'd think you'd learn your lesson by now, kid," rumbled Gunslinger, "You gotta play by the rules, that's how we all get along, here."
"Pleaseshutup," slurred Dabi, angry and half delirious and beyond passed off that Gunslinger was trying to give him life lessons before he fucked him raw.
"Don't be rude," he grunted before snapping his hips forward. Dabi bucked up against the counter top so hard his hip bones would bruise. His back arched in pain, but Gunslinger slammed his face back down into the countertop so hard his cheekbone would bruise too.
Gunslinger pushed all the way in and Dabi hissed at the sharp friction that had already begun. Had it always hurt this much? He'd never been this sober when Gunslinger fucked him - that meager fucking pill was a fucking joke.
"More spit," Dabi hissed.
Gunslinger pulled back to the tip with one harsh motion and Dabi groaned. It felt like getting fucked by a baseball bat wrapped in sand paper.
Dabi clenched his teeth and tried to get used to it, but his body wouldn't relax. His toes were curled tight and his back was arched tense.
It felt like a punishment for his outburst.
It felt familiar.
It felt like him .
"You never learn. You keep promising to be better."
Their voices rang in his head.
Their bodies split him open. Carved through him carelessly and without regard - punished him for the belligerence he couldn't control.
Gunslinger dug his nails into Dabi's soft flesh. Dabi cursed and clawed at the slippery counter top, and he thought he might snap.
And then - and then -
Sharp, deranged laughter burst out from a dark crevice in Dabi's chest.
It was absurd .
Dabi cackled as Gunslinger's thrusts faltered.
It was ridiculous - the fact that Dabi had ever wanted this man's love and attention and approval. Now he saw it clear as day. He didn't care about Gunslinger - not really - he just found someone just like his father, and he'd tried to spill out his guts like an offering for a shark in bloody water.
Dabi's laughter was sharp and harsh and cut through the early morning quiet.
Gunslinger growled and wrapped a thick hand around Dabi's mouth and jaw to stop the manic laughter. Dabi could taste the blood that had seeped through the bandages. Gunslinger started fucking him again with renewed vigor.
Definitely a punishment.
Dabi snorted and winced, one thigh raising up as he twisted his hips and tried to get a little more comfortable with the spitting pain and the intrusion that made him feel like he'd vomit with every thrust.
Dabi's eyes started to scrunch shut and his brow started to sweat.
This was terrible.
Dabi didn't remember it being this terrible.
So terrible and so familiar.
"Ha - you fuck like him too," Dabi mumbled against the bloody bandages as he started to sink back into nothingness.
"The hell did you just say?" Grunted Gunslinger, barely listening, breathless with the effort of fucking Dabi into oblivion. His pace was becoming erratic. Dabi barely noticed as Gunslinger's hips shuddered against his ass, and the man groaned as he released into Dabi's quivering body.
"My dad - you fuck just like my dad," mumbled Dabi with eyes closed as he rested his cheek on cold granite. He barely registered that Gunslinger had finished with him. But he knew that he felt hollow. He knew he felt better. Because he couldn't feel those burning hands anymore. He could only feel Gunslinger. Those rough calloused fingers. Thick cologne and cigarette smoke. Fat padded muscle that he could sink into - if he tried hard enough - he could find comfort -
“Fucking disgusting,” Gunslinger sucked his teeth and started to soften as he pulled out.
Dabi slipped to the cold tile kitchen floor with nothing but his spindly limbs falling to support him.
Gunslinger tossed an assortment of laced cigarettes and mismatched pills on the ground where Dabi sat with the dissociated gaze of a person who'd just been pushed well past their limits.
"You're twisted, kid," grunted Gunslinger as he zipped his fly and gathered his belongings to leave for the day, "Don't say weird ass shit like that next time."
And then Dabi was alone, with his head tilted back against the lower level cabinets, and a trickle of blood running slowly down his cheekbone and jawline.
All that mattered were the pills that Dabi was already swallowing dry - and the fact that for the very first time since the incident in the fields - Dabi wasn't thinking about his father.
He was only thinking about Gunslinger and those awful, cruel things he'd said as he fucked him raw. He could only feel those callouses instead of burning hands. Rough grunts instead of heavy breaths in his ears.
He felt lighter. Unburdened.
He felt like it had ended too soon. Dabi snorted despite himself. He knew he sounded crazy in his own head, but he didn't care.
Then Dabi struggled to pull himself up off the floor and over to the sink to wash the blood off the side of his face. With shaking hands, he applied pressure on his temple until the bleeding stopped. He was sure that Hawks wouldn't notice the cut if he was careful with how he parted his hair.
Dabi paused and bit his lip.
He'd forgotten about Hawks too for a little bit.
"Fuck - Dabi, that's disgusting," Hawks had snapped at him.
Dabi stared blankly down at the blood running down the drain. Angry, mocking faces bloomed in the blood and the water.
Dabi lit his laced cigarette and took a deep, slow hit. He blew smoke into the sink, and waited for the faces to disappear. They never did. Dabi took another hit so fast and deep his vision blurred and his lungs spasmed against the influx of hot smoke. The faces wouldn't disappear.
“Damn it,” Dabi mumbled.
Then the basement door opened and shut.
Dabi winced - Dabi couldn't remember who lived in the basement - maybe that pig-faced Sasu - but his nerves were frayed. His brain was creaking. His body still ached and Gunslinger's words rang in his mind.
"You know - if you didn't piss people off so badly, they wouldn't treat you like shit all the time," Gunslinger had oh so sagely advised.
If it was Sasu walking towards the kitchen, Dabi wasn't in the mood for another lesson in property rights.
And so Dabi skittered back up to the room where Hawks was still sleeping.
Dabi slipped through the doorway without making a sound, and took deep hits of nicotine and whatever else was rolled up in the cigarette - he stared down at the sleeping golden boy. The star of a nation. A guardian angel. A pro-hero reduced to crashing in a drug den all because Dabi had coerced him into abandoning a life that had been better than this. Guilt clawed its way into Dabi's chest, and Dabi to another deep hit, and the guilt went away.
The world was starting to soften, and his mind was starting to drift.
When Dabi smoked his laced cigarette down to the nub, he fell to his knees on the mattress and crawled towards Hawks.
He was so peaceful. So pretty. So soft and warm.
Hawks was an oasis in the desert. A sanctuary for the damned.
Dabi laid down and shifted quietly until he could press his back against Hawks' chest. He wrapped Hawks' limp arms around himself again, just like this morning - as if Hawks would ever want to touch him again after this morning with Gunslinger.
But Dabi couldn't tear himself away. He just wanted warmth. Comfort. Something safe for only a little bit.
Dabi closed his eyes, and Hawks sighed gently against the back of his neck. Glorious red wings stretched out and encased Dabi in a blanket of feathers. So soft and warm and gentle - Dabi felt like he could let go. Everything was good for just a few moments. His muscles relaxed. All the pain had faded from his body and mind. Dabi sighed and nestled back into the warmth, his hands clasped loosely on the forearms draped around him. Dabi took a shallow breath as his lungs grew lazy. Hawks still smelled like the sky.
Dabi didn't notice that he'd forgotten his pants, and that slippery substances were dripping down his thighs and his cheeks. He was just content, and thought that maybe when he woke up, he'd try to be something that Hawks could like.
Dabi let that thought go - and let the drugs pull down him into another dreamless slumber.
~
It felt like no time had passed since morning.
The sun was already starting to set again when Dabi woke in a cold sweat. His body ached everywhere. His mind felt like cotton, but worst of all - he woke up alone.
Dabi rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and the drool off his chin as he clutched the flying coat tight to his cold, clammy body. He sat up with a groan as his muscles protested, and then his dreary eyes raised to see Hawks standing guard at the door.
He looked angry.
Dabi swallowed awkwardly.
Hawks' expression was intense with a deep set frown. His arms and ankles were crossed. His wings were pulled flat against his back in a stark display of tension and displeasure. Hawks didn't speak. He barely blinked as those piercing golden eyes made Dabi wince.
Dabi averted his gaze and immediately saw why Hawks was so unhappy.
Dabi was pantless, and cum had dried between his legs - adding to the mess from the night before. The memory of the morning with Gunslinger replayed in his mind, and his stomach flipped.
Shame prickled over his cheeks.
How messy. How embarrassing. Had he been so fucked up that he hadn't even considered cleaning himself off? No wonder Hawks was pissed.
“Hawks, I -” started Dabi awkwardly, but he wasn't sure what he was going to say.
"We said we liked each other," Hawks had hissed yesterday after Dabi had blown Gunslinger.
Dabi looked down at the carpet and began fidgeting with his piercings on his arm.
What was Dabi supposed to say?
That he still wished he could be something that Hawks liked?
Pathetic. He couldn't say anything that.
So instead, the silence was absolute.
Dabi looked up again furtively, and saw that Hawks was still watching him intently - seemingly so wound up that any movement would trigger an explosion. Dabi looked away again. He was nervous to test Hawks' patience.
Fucking disgusting, I can't believe you.
You're twisted, kid.
Apologize, Touya. NOW.
If you didn't piss people off, they wouldn't treat you like shit.
I hate brats like you. Haven't you learned your lesson yet?
DISGUSTING.
He could hear them. Gunslinger. Hawks. His father. Like a rising tide.
"I know, I know, I'm disgusting," Dabi muttered, barely audible with his head low, "You don't have to keep saying it - goddamnit I KNOW."
Dabi wasn't sure who he was yelling at. His hands had come up to cover his ears. He forgot that he looked strange when he covered his ears. He forgot that those voices weren't real. He just wanted it to stop.
Hawks' stance seemed to soften, not that Dabi noticed.
"Dabi -" Hawks started, but there was no sign that Dabi even knew Hawks existed anymore as he curled around himself on the mattress.
Hawks sighed.
“You're not - I didn't mean what I said last night,” Hawks said as he ran an agitated hand through his hair.
No response.
“Come on,” sighed Hawks as he took a few strides forward.
Hawks grabbed Dabi’s wrist and pulled him up towards the bathroom.
Dabi only winced, trying to cover his ears with his shoulders, his eyes still far away.
Hawks let Dabi go once they entered the bathroom, and he turned on the shower water in the biohazard of a tub.
"Get in," said Hawks with his arms crossed over his chest.
Dabi blinked dumbly in the bright flickering lights.
"You're not disgusting," said Hawks again, before taking a deep breath and softening his tone, "You - as a human being - are not disgusting."
Dabi frowned at the floor and swayed where he stood. He seemed to be hearing Hawks now.
"But just - just please don't just cuddle up to me right after you - after another guy just - ," Hawks stuttered over his words, trying so hard to be gentle this time. His cheeks were flushed a ruddy pink as Hawks remembered waking up to a puddle of cum between him and Dabi that didn't belong to either of them. It had dripped down Dabi's ass cheeks and soaked through the front of Hawks' pants while they spooned and slept past noon.
Hawks had woken up confused, then disgusted, then furious. He was so grateful to have a chance to compose himself before Dabi woke.
Still, the awkward words hung in the air.
Dabi didn't respond. He couldn't bring himself to make eye contact. He couldn't bring himself to speak.His dull blue eyes just focused on the dirt between the bathroom tiles - because he refused to process leaking another man's cum onto the only living soul who seemed to actually think he was worth anything at all.
How fucking embarrassing.
Dabi scrunched his eyes tight against the flickering yellow light. He clutched the jacket tighter around his shoulders. He wanted to disappear.
"Now please take off my jacket and clean yourself off," said Hawks as softly as possible.
Throw that rag away or I'll burn it, Touya.
Dabi's eyes dulled further as he slowly got undressed while Hawks watched him from afar.
Dabi clutched the jacket in his hands. He didn't want to let it go. But Hawks was watching with a stern, sullen expression and crossed arms. Dabi knew this comfort had never been his to keep. He wasn't a child anymore. He didn't need this stupid thing to protect him from the monsters in the night.
Dabi tossed the jacket to the dirty bathroom floor as if it didn't matter as much as it did.
Hawks glanced down at his signature jacket discarded carelessly on the floor and clicked his tongue in disapproval.
Dabi stepped into the shower, and caught Hawks’ eyes raking over his body - sizing up the bruises on his hips.
"Don't look at me like that," muttered Dabi as he started to shiver in the cool water that refused to heat up. He fumbled with the bar soap and picked out the stray pubic hairs of a stranger.
"I'm not," said Hawks, instantly looking away and rubbing his face to loosen the disappointment out of his expression.
There was a period of quiet while Dabi washed his hair. The harsh bar soap stripped a bit more of the black dye out of his hair. Black rivulets ran down his torso. His wet hair was left a dark gray with pure white at the roots.
Dabi glanced over, and saw a sad, pitiful look on Hawks' face. It was worse than anger.
"What?" Dabi bit out, and Hawks sighed deep and long in response as he looked away again.
“Sorry. I just…don't know how to help you,” muttered Hawks, “I've never known how to help people like you. I'm not... I'm not good at it."
Hawks winced as if it was painful to admit that out loud. Fucking golden boy hero.
Dabi didn't want to know who else Hawks had tried to save. He didn't want the jealously to eat away at him.
"People like me?" Dabi just scoffed, his nails digging into the bar of soap.
"People who are sad," sighed Hawks, and Dabi rolled his eyes at the accusation.
“I don't need help,” Dabi said, "Is it really so terrible if I want to get high? If I want to forget?"
“No, it's not terrible,” said Hawks with those sad eyes that made Dabi’s skin prickle. “But why here? Why these people, Dabi? They're awful. This place is awful.”
Hawks’ voice cracked at the end, and Dabi turned away to lather his front. He didn't want to have this conversation.
"Can't you be safe, at least? Can't you get drugs anywhere else? I'm sure any one of your friends at the League - "
"Associates," Dabi corrected abruptly.
"Whatever, I'm sure the League could get you drugs,” said Hawks softly, a last ditch effort knowing that he couldn't convince Dabi to quit altogether, “This place isn't safe - it isn't healthy to let those guys, you know -”
Hawks trailed off.
“The League won't let me do shit like this,” Dabi admitted with a tinge of resentment, “Shigaraki would kill me first.”
The League never let him self-destruct the way he always wanted to. Always acting too friendly. Too familial. Dabi started to shiver in the cold water that refused to warm.
Dabi mindlessly lathered another layer of soap over his body. He still felt dirty while Hawks watched him with those sad eyes. He wasn't sure if that feeling had ever gone away in the past decade, or if it ever would.
“If the League cares about you like that, you should go to them,” said Hawks softly, trying again. Always trying.
“No,” Dabi said firmly, adding another layer of soap.
“Dabi -”
“Hawks,” Dabi snapped, before softening again and letting out a long exhale into the icy shower spray. He muttered, "I don't wanna see the League right now - I don't want them to see me like this. They'll know what he did."
Dabi closed his eyes. How embarrassing.
"They won't," said Hawks softly.
"They will," Dabi snapped again without meaning to.
Maybe it was his paranoia, but he felt like he had a huge blinking neon sign on his forehead that said:
' Look at Me Look at Me
My Dad Raped Me. '
Dabi could almost see the neon flickering in the edges of his vision. He rubbed his eyes with soapy knuckles and ignored the sting. What a terrible new hallucination.
"I don't want them to know," murmured Dabi again. He didn't want Toga to laugh at him. He didn't want Shigaraki to sneer in disgust. He didn't want Giran to frown and turn away with a tutting sound that always made Dabi feel like shit. He didn't want any of that.
Not that they had ever acted like that before.
But it had never been his father before.
"Fine, I'll stop bringing up the League, okay?" said Hawks softly, "But maybe I can find you real medicine. I'll look for Giran."
"Yeah, right," said Dabi dismissively. No one found Giran if he didn't want to be found.
Hawks seemed thoughtful though as he rubbed the stubble on his chin.
"If they want money for drugs instead, I can go back to my apartment," offered Hawks.
Dabi snorted.
"They don't want money," said Dabi with a half hearted shrug, "I know this place looks like shit, but they're actually fucking loaded and spend all their money on whores anyways."
"But you're not a whore - you shouldn't act like it," said Hawks desperately.
Dabi rolled his eyes. Hawks just didn't get it.
"I am a whore," said Dabi plainly, "When I'm not killing people, that's just...what I am. My dad was right, okay? Fucking congratulations DAD - bet you never thought you'd hear those words, huh?"
Dabi shouted up into the shadows, forgetting not to be strange as reality cracked around him.
"Don't say that...please," said Hawks softly, "You always say sad things."
Dabi sighed and frowned. He didn't want to make Hawks sad all the time.
"Sorry..." muttered Dabi, fidgeting with the soap in his hands, not knowing what else to say, but feeling awkward that any of it had been said at all.
In the lull of the conversation, Dabi started to feel a bit too sober - even though he was still far from it. He shut the shower water off, and heard the wind whistling in his ears again. He stepped out onto the tile and shook himself out like a dog without a towel. His eyes cast down to the vent. The stash of pills was gone. He desperately wanted something else to distract him.
Maybe someone else.
Because without the frigid shower water, his body was burning again. Dabi could feel his father's hands - searing and ruining.
The memory of Gunslinger's body wasted away under the constant rising tide that was Endeavor. Number one pro-hero. The best. The strongest.
Dabi thought he might pass out. He was so dizzy with old anger and defeat.
Dabi needed something else to erase his father. Gunslinger hadn't been enough. Sasu hadn't been enough. The drugs hadn't been enough.
And Hawks was just right there - an easy distraction.
Dabi smiled suddenly - a hazy, flirtatious smile that seemed a bit out of place.
Dabi walked forward slowly until he towered over Hawks - still naked and dripping wet and glistening pale. Dabi stared down at Hawks - his fully-clothed, beautiful guardian angel.
Dabi grabbed Hawks' jaw with light fingertips and moved his face slowly from side to side as he examined Hawks like a show dog. Tan, unblemished skin. Stark white teeth. Eyes like crystals in the sun. He was too pretty. Too good for this place.
He imagined how easy it would be for these guys to slip powder into one of the beers that Hawks loved so much - just like the night they met.
Dabi rubbed his thumb over Hawks’ soft lips, and Hawks’ lips nearly parted at the touch. Dabi exhaled sharply through his nose.
It would be way too easy for these guys to fuck the spark out of this pretty little angel.
"They'd break you in a second, Hero," muttered Dabi as sullied images passed through his mind, "You tell me if anyone here even looks at you wrong. I'll kill them, okay?”
Hawks’ eyes widened at the promise of death to anyone who hurt him, and then he flushed as he gently knocked Dabi's hands off his face
"Hypocrite, you're fucking guys left and right here," scoffed Hawks, barely above a whisper as he crossed his arms and turned away.
Dabi didn't want Hawks to turn away. Or close himself off. It made his guts twist and his heart clench. Dabi pulled Hawks’ forearm, opened him up, and pinned one arm above Hawks' head. Dabi pressed his wet body against Hawks - searching for warmth. Water droplets fell from Dabi's hair onto Hawks’ cheeks like clear freckles.
Dabi smiled at the lack of protest, and the way that soothed Dabi's soul.
"Fine - you can fuck anyone you want, Ta - ka - mi,” Dabi murmured as his free thumb tapped Hawks’ lower lip with each syllable of the man's last name. Hawks flushed and gasped lightly as Dabi pressed his wet thigh up between Hawks’ clothed legs.
Dabi continued with a devilish smile, “Anyone you want, but it'll be a death wish for them, got it?
“Hypocrite,” Hawks whispered weakly, repeating himself as his eyes fluttered and he mewed softly at the friction Dabi was creating between them with gentle shifting motions.
“Maybe,” said Dabi as he leaned down and kissed Hawks’ ear, “But I won't share you.”
Hawks shivered against his body, and Dabi just wanted to consume him in that moment. If he could, then everything would be okay.
Dabi trailed slow kisses down Hawks’ jawline, but Hawks pulled away just before Dabi reached his lips.
Hawks turned his head away and looked down at the floor with a worried expression on his face.
"You're not sober enough for this, Dabi," muttered Hawks.
"I know - please," whispered Dabi, wishing again that he could be something Hawks' might want.
He brushed golden strands of hair behind Hawks' ear, and he pulled Hawks’ face back to look at him.
Their eyes met and they stared at each other in silence, each trying to work out how to get what they wanted from the other.
"Can we please leave tomorrow?" asked Hawks with a hint of desperation in his tone.
Dabi hesitated as he leaned down and pressed his forehead against Hawks' forehead. Dabi closed his eyes to rest there for a moment as he considered the request. While waiting for an answer, Hawks just wrapped his arms around Dabi and held him tight.
Dabi thought that perhaps he could survive here with Hawks to hold him in quiet moments. But that was selfish.
“You should go, Hawks,” said Dabi, “You don't belong here.”
“Neither do you. I won't leave you here,” said Hawks. Always so stubborn.
Dabi sighed. He didn't want to go. He needed... he needed to be erased. This place could erase him. It had erased him before, and it could happen again.
“I can't go yet,” said Dabi softly, "I just can't, Hawks. I'm sorry."
Dabi wouldn't leave until every last speck of his trauma was dead and buried beneath fresh trauma that was easier to tolerate.
Gunslinger had erased Dabi - if only for a few hours. Dabi thought that maybe... he could chase that feeling. He could chase new bruises, fresh blood. Then he'd be okay.
Time stretched as Dabi began to dissociate. His eyes unfocused, and he lost track of the conversation.
"Come back to me," Hawks whispered, "Look at me."
Dabi blinked - Hawks' hand rested lightly on Dabi's cheek. Hawks stared up at him with lines of concern between his knitted brows.
"It's getting worse, isn't it?" Hawks asked with those sad eyes.
Dabi frowned. He was losing time again. Chunks of his day would start disappearing soon.
"I'm okay," Dabi muttered.
Hawks just sighed lightly as he stood up on his tiptoes. Their faces so close together now. Dabi felt electricity crackle between their skin.
"We'll fix this - just hold on a little longer, okay?" Hawks whispered. His soft breaths puffed against Dabi’s lips.
Then Hawks was kissing him - close-lipped, gentle, and sweet.
Dabi kissed him back in earnest. He pressed their lips together firmly, and then drew his tongue over Hawks' bottom lip. Hawks parted his lips ever so slightly, and Dabi deepened the kiss with all-consuming desperation. Dabi breathed him in and devoured him - he could taste the clouds and the sweetness on Hawks' lips.
Everything was okay, for just a moment.
Dabi lifted Hawks up without breaking the kiss. He carried Hawks back into the bedroom, and they fell into the mattress together, long limbs intertwined for warmth.
They laid there for a while facing each other, just kissing each other gently and drifting their fingertips over each other's arms and jaws and chests. Their lips moved slowly together in the silence - as if to confess sweet nothings that they dared not speak, for fear that it would all slip away if anything changed. Dabi wanted to live in this moment forever - where it was safe and good.
But then Hawks' phone rang.
It could only be one person.
They parted from each other, breathless and ruby lipped - watching each other intensely - as if the other could save this moment before it ended - but the moment slipped through their fingers anyways, no matter how hard they tried to hold on.
Dabi turned away - Hawks answered his phone.
Dabi closed his eyes and drew his knees to his chest as the tidal wave that was his father crashed over him once again.