Chapter Text
Dabi’s had sex before. He’s had it with Hawks - several times, in fact, quick trysts in alleyways and hotel rooms and, recently, during long weekends spent in Hawks’s apartment - and, before that, he’d even had it with strangers on a handful of occasions, drunken nights at bars born from a need for attention that he’d quickly realized couldn’t be solved with people he didn’t want it from.
Dabi’s never been eaten out before, though. His legs shake minutely on either side of Hawks’s head, fingers curled anxiously in satin-cased pillows.
Getting fucked is easy. He’s coming to realize that vulnerability is not, but he’s willing to try, so long as it’s Hawks he’s trying it with.
“Relax,” Hawks says, a breathy little chuckle that hovers in the air somewhere between fond amusement and genuine concern, lips pressed to a healthy splotch of skin on his right thigh. His eyes glow dangerously in the dim lamplight.
“I’m plenty relaxed,” Dabi grumbles, narrowing his eyes at the man half-settled on his stomach at the other end of the bed, nestled in the space between his legs like he belongs there and he knows it. Hawks hums and gives his left thigh a playful squeeze, hinting his nails, then slides his palm down to stroke the seam of the scar that begins at his knee, offering wordless reassurance.
“Sure,” he agrees easily, tracing over the already purpling hickey he’s mouthing at with his tongue and digging his piercing into the darkest part when he finds it. It makes Dabi arch, forces a hiccuped moan from between his teeth. His cunt, still sticky from his earlier orgasm and growing colder the longer he sits spread open like this, clenches around nothing. Hawks makes a knowing sound in his throat, abandoning his left thigh to thumb over his clit that’s slowly starting to swell up again, gone mostly soft sometime during the removal of layers and kiss-drunk trek to the bedroom.
“Fuck,” Dabi croaks, stomach tensing with the effort of keeping himself still, his legs open. Hawks doesn’t do anything else, just bites kisses along his thigh and massages his clit in slow circles until it gets big enough to jerk between his fingers, split webbing pressed to the underside.
By the time he pulls the hood back and starts lazily tugging, Dabi can feel his own slick dripping down the curve of his ass.
“Hawks,” he says, breathless, navel jewelry tink -ing faintly as his belly pulls taut, hips rolling both into and against the fingers on his dick.
“I know,” Hawks says, low and gentle, lips tickling over the bruise on his thigh. The muscle twitches involuntarily, and Hawks snaps his over-long teeth at it playfully, laving his hot, slippery tongue over the reddened rim of the mark. Dabi’s toes curl so hard they crack, heels digging into the comforter.
“Shit!” he squeaks, smacking his palm over his mouth, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back. Hawks snickers and gives his throbbing clit a squeeze that makes his cunt gush .
“There it is. That feel good, pretty boy?” Hawks coos, almost mocking but not quite mean, giving the flushed dick half-hidden in Dabi’s slick mound another lovely pinch before going back to simply jerking him between his fingers, letting Dabi half thrust into the loose little hole of his thumb and forefinger.
“Yeah, yeah- ‘s good, ‘t’s so good,” Dabi slurs, babbling between the slats of his own trembling fingers, chest heaving so hard he can feel the weight of his own tits. “Please don’t stop, please please-”
“Not stoppin’,” Hawks hums, reassuring, dutifully ignoring the iron tang in the air because Dabi’s already teary. “You wanna cum like this, baby?”
Dabi whimpers and nods, and so Hawks keeps rubbing and tugging at his clit until he arches back with a strangled sound, thighs snapping together involuntarily to trap Hawks’s hand between them. Hawks switches from his fingers to his thumb with a flick of his wrist, working him through his orgasm with slow, featherlight touches, rolling circles over his hood.
“That’s it, good boy,” he says, close enough now that his breath fans warm across the backs of Dabi’s thighs and what little of his cunt is still bared to the room. “Let me see you,” Hawks says, slipping the fingers of his other hand between the spasming muscles of Dabi’s taut legs. He pushes gently but firmly, and Dabi’s thighs part to fall limp and open on the bed as his shivers fade to twitches.
Dabi hiccups, and Hawks’s tongue swipes the silvery drool from the bottom curl of his rim, exhaling against his taint. It’s hot, and weird, and it makes Dabi’s hips jerk. He can feel the strange, slimy wetness as Hawks wiggles his tongue, flicking the tip over the wrinkle of labia beneath his still-throbbing clit.
“Oh,” Dabi says, stuttered. “Oh. Wait,” he warbles, but Hawks doesn’t, instead gripping the crease of his ass to hold him open, thumbs pressed to his arousal-swollen outer lips. He massages as if to coax more wetness from Dabi’s cunt, and Dabi gasps a throaty noise when his tongue folds into a bend and dips fully inside his cunt.
Hawks groans, shuffling up the bed as he all but dives forward to bury his face in Dabi’s sopping pussy. The vibrations feel like they go all the way to the core of him, Hawks’s tongue digging and scraping the inner walls of his cunt like a man starving.
“Fu-uuck-ck!” Dabi squeaks, eyes rolling. His toes crack and curl in Hawks’s shirt, feet flat against his shoulders. Baby feathers tickle his ankles. He buries one hand in Hawks’s hair, the other tugging at his own to ground himself as Hawks pulls away to inhale sharply and switch his attention to Dabi’s clit. He wraps his lips around it and suckles, nudging his tongue, piercing and all, beneath the hood, and at the same time wrestles two fingers into Dabi’s sloppy, fluttering hole.
Dabi wails, arching back like a bowstring because Hawks isn’t easing him into this. Hawks won’t let him catch his breath, eating him out with desperation and fervor, too much too soon.
He’s too fast for his own good and Dabi’s, too.
“Hawks!” he cries, trembling all over. Hawks swirls his tongue in an endless spiral, letting his piercing click against his teeth. “Hawks, oh my god.” Dabi hiccups again, knees snapping together on either side of Hawks’s skull when Hawks curls his fingers up and drags over the bumpy ridges of his g-spot.
Dabi cums too-suddenly, almost painfully, teeth chattering. His body quakes.
Hawks groans again and wiggles another finger into Dabi’s rapidly clenching hole, tight and snug beside the others. He pulls back to breathe, flattening his tongue, hot and slick, over Dabi’s clit. Dabi sobs so hard his chest rattles. His tits heave; one of Hawks’s hands leaves his ass to flick the barbell in his nipple. Dabi feels desirable in a way he never has, carved open in low lamplight.
“Cumming,” he says, sobs, chants, even though Hawks already knows. His neck burns at the angle his body’s bent itself into; his knuckles ache, fist tight in Hawks’s hair. “Cumming cumming cumming, ‘m cumming.”
Hawks hisses something unintelligible at him, brows furrowed in concentration. He mouths the words, however nonsensical they are, against Dabi’s clit and cunt, half-licking and half-sucking at his labia. It’s overwhelming, the feeling, the attention, and Dabi trembles with it.
“Please,” he says, croaky and high. He’s dizzy. Tears drip over his lashes, stain them red, and smear over his cheekbones. He releases the grip on his own hair, shoves his hand between his legs to paw at Hawks’s fingers, just for something to hold onto other than himself. Hawks loops their index fingers together, flicking his tongue one last time. His beard is slick when he pulls away to rest the warmth of his face against the inside of Dabi’s thigh.
“You wanna hold my hand, baby?” Hawks says, panting, breathless, soft and scratchy like he’s not nearly sent Dabi into hysterics with how intensely he’s made him cum. He presses a kiss to Dabi’s knee, right above a line of staples, a stitched, bruising seam of mottled skin. Dabi hiccups a pitiful little moan because he realizes, now, what Hawks had asked against his pussy: too much?
“Yeah,” he says, wobbly and wet. “Yes,” he says, answering both questions without meaning to. It’s too much, so much good that it hurts, unused to it all. He needs to hold Hawks’s hand so he doesn’t turn himself inside out with all of this shaking, flayed red and raw. “Yes, please.”
“Oh angel,” Hawks says, expression softening, eyes creasing at the corners. He threads their fingers together, slips the ones in his cunt free to pet over his too-hot labia instead. His nails catch on slobbery, matted curls that cling to his pruning fingertips. Dabi squeezes his hand, Hawks’s thumb rolling gently over Dabi’s knuckles.
“Felt good,” Dabi says, feeling like he needs to reassure at least Hawks - and maybe himself, too - that he’d liked it, that he’d wanted it, even if it was too much.
“I know,” Hawks says. His chin and lips are slimy with his own spit and Dabi’s cooling cum. Dabi’s cunt feels gummy. “Look so pretty when you cum,” Hawks murmurs. He stills his fingers so the flat plane of them rests a warm, soothing weight over Dabi’s cunt, shielding him from the shock of cold air. Dabi sniffles, blinking through his tears.
“Thanks,” Dabi says, mumbled, lips twitching giddily when it makes Hawks snicker. His nose crinkles up when he laughs. Dabi wonders who he got that from. “Do-” He swallows, tongue thick and dry in his mouth. “Do you want me to- should I do you?”
“Mm?” Hawks says. “Later, chickadee.” He smiles, kind and soft. It’s a smile, Dabi has realized, that is reserved just for him.
“Okay,” Dabi says.
Hawks rises on his knees, then, to shuck his shirt, leaving him in just his briefs, dark and damp in the front. He flattens himself across Dabi’s bare chest, hips slotted between Dabi’s own, and holds himself up on his forearms. He kisses Dabi’s eyebrow, and then the corner of his eye, with his gross mouth, and laughs obnoxiously when Dabi whines and swats at him because he stinks like pussy.
“Gross!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Hawks says, laughing. He rolls off of Dabi’s body, flops down to lie beside him, pulling Dabi to his chest by his belly. Though they’re both warm and sweaty, feathers bring the sheets up over their hips.
“Fucking nasty,” Dabi grumbles, flushed pink enough that he can feel it. He doesn’t complain when Hawks takes to kissing along the back of his neck and shoulders instead of his face, thumb teasing at the gem in his navel.
“Yeah, yeah,” Hawks says, amused. “I can’t kiss you with pussy breath, but you can kiss me. I get it.”
“You’re so annoying.” Dabi huffs, nuzzling into the ruined pillowcase beneath his head. Hawks’s arm wiggles itself underneath the pillow for more support.
“And yet,” Hawks says, nipping at Dabi’s ear. He squeezes Dabi somehow closer to him and licks over the sting from his teeth.
“And yet,” Dabi says, relaxing back into his hold.