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Now listen, it's not that Dabi didn't want to do his laundry. He's not nasty, he actually takes great pride in his hygiene. He’s basically a walking infection, he kinda needs to stay clean to y’know… survive. But he's been so fucking busy lately with the stupid war and stupid Hawks and he just... hasn't had the time, alright?
So yeah. It's not his fucking fault he's run out of socks.
He wouldn't typically care about not wearing socks but quite frankly, his boots are monstrous things. They're heavy as shit, go up his calf, and they’re fucking huge and they give him blisters with even his thickest socks.
So instead of doing his laundry like a normal fucking person, he goes to the next room over and steals a pair of socks.
Unfortunately for him, that happens to be Toga's room.
When he goes to open her dresser, he sees a bunch of socks, all pink and purple and vibrant colours with stupid fucking animals on them. Some even have fucking ruffles and pompoms on them.
But fucking fine, whatever. No one's gonna see the fucking socks anyways and he doubts Toga will miss a single pair. He's pressed for time, he's not about to go on the hunt for some goddamn socks of all things.
So he picks out a random pair and pulls them on, not caring that he's stretching them out. The socks reach past his ankles, which all he really cares about.
He really does not want to deal with more blisters.
He goes about his day as usual, dealing with Geten's annoying ass, taking fuckass orders from Shigaraki, and bickering with Toga.
He wasn't meant to meet up with Hawks today but Shigaraki asked for him and when Dabi tried to call him the fucker didn't pick up. Being in charge of Hawks was a fucking drag and Dabi hated it.
But he also hated the thought of someone else taking over that responsibility.
It didn't mean anything, he told himself. He just wants to be the one with the number two hero at his beck and call. Having the hero do his bidding for him gave him a power rush that he quite actually revelled in.
So when Hawks didn't answer his call, Dabi did what any other normal person would.
He broke into his apartment.
He'd found the apartment about two weeks ago. Hawks hadn't noticed Dabi tailing him from the ground, lazily flying home after a meeting together. He almost lost the bird a few times but Hawks would pop back up into the air. The guy was an easy target when he wasn't flying 190 kilometres an hour.
So here he is, outside the hero's apartment complex.
He climbs up the fire escape, trying to catch his breath by the time he makes it outside Hawks' apartment. He's not built for cardio, sue him.
He doesn't bother taking off his boots, which may be mistake number one.
Instead he strides into the kitchen from the unlocked balcony door and makes a mental note to call Hawks a dumbass for not locking his door, then pokes around at the coffee maker.
Hawks isn't home yet which clues Dabi into why his call went unanswered. The guy probably ran his shift longer than he needed to again. Not that Dabi cares of course.
Dabi walks around as his coffee starts brewing. The apartment is fucking huge as it is empty. No hint of a personality anywhere. Normally, he'd think this kind of luxurious apartment would be suitable for the number two hero. But now that he kinda knows the guy beyond his hero duties, he doesn't think this place suits Hawks at all.
He expected there to be pictures everywhere, some clothes strewn about, maybe some cash somewhere, even a fucking magnet on the fridge would do. But there was just nothing. The place was a blank canvas, straight out of a fucking realtor magazine.
He's looking around the bedroom when the ding of the coffee maker goes off. He makes his way back to the kitchen and opens a few cabinets before pulling out a mug. With his coffee poured and steaming, he makes his way to the living room where a bigass flat screen TV sits mounted to the wall. He flips a table lamp on and plucks a random book from Hawks' meagre collection. He makes himself comfortable, kicking his feet up onto the kotatsu.
He flips through the book, and sips his coffee. After two chapters, his drink is gone so he sets the book down and keeps digging around. He calls Hawks again as he enters a room that looks like an office.
He smirks to himself, looking back out in the hallway as if Hawks will just appear out of nowhere. Dabi walks in, sits on the big rolley chair and grabs at the closest pile of papers. He spins as he files through them, finding nothing of importance to his annoyance.
He resigns, flopping back on his stomach onto the couch bored out of his fucking mind. His boots weigh heavily on the couch cushions but he really couldn't give two fucks.
His phone starts to ring just as he hears a thud on the balcony.
He picks up the phone catching Hawks' contact name and answers. "What?" His voice is slightly muffled from where his face is pressed into the cushions.
"Hey man, sorry about the meeting. I was held up at-"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Dabi rolls his eyes. The door to the balcony slides open and suddenly Hawks' voice is much clearer.
"Let's reschedule. When are you free?" He hears shuffling and then some clinking. There's a pause before Hawks starts the coffee maker again.
Dabi sits up on the couch, tilting his head back to look at the bird upside down. "How about now?"
Hawks nearly jumps out of his skin, much to Dabi’s amusement. The squawk he made is definitely ringtone worthy, if only Dabi had thought about recording it. The coffee pot in Hawks’ hands drops and shatters all over the floor.
“What the fuck?! How’d you get in?! How do you know where I live?! Dabi, what the fuck!” Hawks yells as he stomps over to where Dabi is now doubled over in laughter. He clutches at his stomach, trying to keep staples from popping out. His laugh is loud and ugly and only serves to anger Hawks even more, egging Dabi on further.
He calms himself down and sighs. “Holy fucking shit, I ain’t laugh that hard in years,” Dabi stands and moves in front of Hawks, patting his cheek with a smirk. “Thanks for that, Birdie.”
“You’re insufferable,” Hawks glares. Before Dabi can respond, Hawks glances down and wrinkles his nose. “And take off your boots, edgelord, I don’t need monster footprints on my carpet.” The hero turns and walks back to the kitchen, ducking behind the counter to presumably pick up the broken pieces of the coffee pot.
“My feet aren’t that fucking big, chill out,” Dabi rolls his eyes and sits back down, bending over to untie the laces of his boots.
“Coulda fooled me, bigfoot,” Hawks mutters just loud enough for Dabi to hear.
Dabi glares over his shoulder in Hawks’ general direction, pulling his loosened boots off without looking. Mistake number two. “I know you’re not talking with your fucking chicken legs,” he calls out to the guy. Hawks stands and dumps the shards of glass in the garbage then leans on the counter.
“I’ll have you know, I have great legs, thank you very much,” Hawks juts his chin out with a presumptuous pout. He crosses his arms again and looks at Dabi suspiciously. “Seriously though, how the hell did you get here?”
Dabi stands with a grunt. “Followed you home about two weeks ago. Y’know for being the number two hero, you’d think you would be more cautious. Wouldn’t want a big bad villain to waltz in and raid your house, would you?”
He looks at Hawks to see the guy staring at him wide eyed. Dabi sneers. “What?”
Hawks points at him and walks closer. “You- you’re fucking short!”
Dabi bristles. “The fuck? No, I’m not!”
“Yes, you are! You rag on me about my height all the time, but-”
“Yeah, cause you’re fucking tiny,” Dabi scoffs.
“We’re basically the same height!” Hawks finishes, now standing eye to fucking eye with Dabi. Shit, they are the same fucking height. He hadn’t realized how much taller his boots actually made him.
But Dabi’s not about to let this slide. “I’m still taller than you, dickhead. Even without my boots,” he huffs.
Hawks rounds the couch. “Dude, how tall are these damn boots anyway-” he reaches down to pick up one of the boots but stops dead in his tracks. He straightens back up and covers his mouth but Dabi can still see the wide grin spreading under his palm.
“Now what?” Dabi snaps. He watches as Hawks’ shoulders tremble, making his wings bounce up and down. The bastard is fucking laughing . Dabi growls. “Fucking what?”
Hawks clears his throat behind his fist but his voice is shaky at best when he speaks. “So who’s your favourite?”
Dabi makes a face and shakes his head to say what the fuck are you talking about?
“Who-” Hawks snickers. “Who’s your favourite Sanrio character?”
Dabi blinks at him, growing more and more confused by the second.
“You seem like a Kuromi kinda guy,” the bird continues. Dabi can see tears forming in the corners of his eyes and his lips are quivering. He looks Dabi in the eyes for two seconds before he snaps. Hawks throws his head back, laughing loudly and unabashedly. It’s not a pretty sound. It’s not.
“Or maybe—hoo I can’t breathe—maybe Hello Kitty herself?” Dabi opens his mouth to demand an explanation when Hawks says, “she is on your socks, after all.”
Dabi freezes, eyes widening in horror. He looks down at his feet and refuses to look back up. His face heats up so fast he thinks he might have summoned his quirk.
Hawks shouts with laughter, collapsing onto the couch. Despite being under his full weight, Hawks’ wings fluff up and vibrate uncontrollably. Hawks gasps and hiccups, wiping tears from his eyes. He takes a look at Dabi, still fucking frozen in place, and falls over again, clutching his stomach.
Dabi feels his eye twitch and lights a flame in his palm, glaring daggers at Hawks.
Fuck, he’d completely forgotten about these dumbass socks. He didn’t have to think about it all goddamn day. They were surprisingly good and he didn’t feel any pain at his heels whatsoever but that’s not the fucking point! He should’ve fucking raided Hawks’ drawers for a different pair of socks before the bird got back.
Hawks, completely undeterred by the threat of getting burned to ash, calms himself down and stands in front of Dabi. “Oh, I haven’t laughed that hard in years, ” Hawks breathes in deeply and pats Dabi’s fucking cheek. “Thanks for that, Hot Stuff. ”
Clearly, Hawks is having a grand ol’ fucking time.
And clearly, Dabi has two options. One; cremate the fucker. Or two; jump out the fucking window.
Dabi grits his teeth, speaking through his clenched jaw. “They’re not fucking mine.” The flame in his hand burns brighter, leaving his fingers aching.
Hawks holds his hands up and smirks. “Hey man, it’s cool. I don’t judge.”
“You fucking-” he glances down at Hawks’ feet and purses his lips, the flame in his hand going out. The corners of his mouth twitch up but he quickly schools his face as he looks back up at the bird. “Hawks.”
Hawks giggles one last time. “What’s up?”
“Why is Endeavour on your socks?”
Hawks freezes as his feathers fluff up. “Uh…”
Dabi smirks, licking his lips. “You’re a fucking fanboy, aren’t you?” Nevermind the fact that it’s Endeavour . This is fucking gold.
“Wha- no, I’m not! They were on sale!” Hawks defends himself, but his wings give him away. They puff out and quiver with embarrassment.
“Uh huh. Sure they were,” Dabi says sarcastically.
“Yeah, man. Three for two,” Hawks flashes a strained smile, clearly trying to keep his dignity.
“Three for two, you say?” Dabi raises an eyebrow. Hawks must realize his mistake because the smile falls off his face immediately. Dabi doesn’t let the chance slip, darting off and sprinting back to the bedroom. Hawks tries to chase after him but curses as Dabi hears something else shatter on the ground.
His feet slide on the hardwood floor when stops in front of the bedroom, holding himself up on the door frame. He rushes in, slams the door closed and runs over to the walk-in closet.
The space is fucking huge but just as empty as the rest of the house. Less work for him. He yanks all the drawers open and when he finally finds the right one, he hears the bedroom door slam against the wall.
“Dabi, c’mon man let’s not-” Hawks stops at the door, staring at Dabi who is—admittedly pretty badly—trying to hold in his laughter.
He lets go, cackling so hard, he thinks he might’ve actually popped a staple or five, because there’s not just two other pairs. No, the whole drawer is filled with pro-hero themed socks. Endeavour, All Might, Best Jeanist, Miruko, Kamui Woods, Fat Gum, Ryukyu, Eraserhead, Present Mic. They just keep fucking going. He catches sight of a pair with Hawks’ own face on it and falls on his ass, holding his abdomen. Yeah, he definitely popped some staples there.
In the corner of his eye, he can see Hawks deflate and throw his head back with a groan.
Dabi calms himself down, wiping bloody tears from his face.
“Are you done?” Hawks raises an eyebrow at him. Dabi snorts behind his hand but nods and leans back on his hands. The hero makes his way over, plopping down beside Dabi, facing him.
“You’re bleeding,” Hawks frowns.
Dabi waves him off. “Tear ducts are shot. Can’t cry real tears.”
Hawks whistles lowly. A feather shoots out and comes back an instant later with a wet towel. Hawks plucks it out of the air, bringing it to Dabi’s face.
“What are you doing?” Dabi recoils, pushing Hawks’ hand away.
“Uh, wiping away the blood, dumbass,” Hawks rolls his eyes and brings his other hand to cradle Dabi’s jaw, turning his head towards him. He swipes the towel under Dabi’s eyes, smiling when he’s cleaned off all the blood.
Dabi ignores the fucking somersault his stomach makes. He can’t, however, ignore the fact that they’re really fucking close right now.
But who would he be if he didn’t deflect?
“How much did you spend on these socks?” He smirks as Hawks leans forward to put his head in his hands with a groan. Dabi snickers, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. He winces and his laugh comes out like a wheeze as his hand shoots up to his ribs where the staples came undone.
He’s already out of breath but when Hawks looks up at him through his lashes, Dabi thinks he stops breathing altogether.
They stare at each other for what feels like hours and it should be awkward but it’s not and Dabi can’t bring himself to look away.
Hawks clears his throat. “C’mon. Let’s get you patched up.”
-
The next time Dabi does his laundry, he balls up all his socks and opens the drawer to put them away.
He’s not expecting to see his face, along with the rest of the League and a certain bird, on different pairs of socks.