[there were when he got there. not many. might have added a few from the cabinets for the hell of it. he rummaged around looking for anything interesting. didn't bother hiding his tracks this time. hawks knew he'd been there. even if he didn't, the truth came out with their text. too bad for the bird.
how he found out where hawks lived is a secret he'll keep to himself. knowing the winged hero will fret over the knowledge is more entertaining. wouldn't expect hawks to pack up and move after tonight, running scared to another safe location so the commission can keep their pet bird securely caged up. or what remains of the commission...
standing outside the home, he lingers in the breeze. should he even bother? it's nothing more than a casual fling, bothering a hero who thinks he's got what it takes to be a villain. hasn't trusted a damn word from his mouth since the start. at least there's a refreshing sense of cutthroat killer in hawks he doesn't see in those other goody-two-shoes heroes parading around the streets...
oh well. a fake's better than a ghost.
fuck climbing the trellis. a brief gout of blue jets him from the lawn to the balcony, not caring about the scorched patch now below. let hawks explain it tomorrow. door's open, as expected. he folds his arms over his stomach and leans a shoulder to the doorframe, casual and callous, black bangs brushing shadows over his eyes.]
[The simple fact that for the first time ever Hawks is losing the plot of his own mission should bother him, but it doesn't. He's never been drawn to someone like this before. It's new. Exciting in a way life really isn't anymore. And maybe some of the things Dabi says he agrees with.
His feathers tell him when the other man arrives. He knows he's there but he doesn't react. No point. Dabi will come in or he won't. The balcony door is open. His own boots beside the door indicating this is his usual mode of entry. He glances over when that sultry voice reaches his ears and he gives him a half smirk putting on a bravado he's not sure he really feels because let's be real. He's invited a super villain to his house. Sane people don't do that.]
Hi
[Lame. He's so fucking lame. Get it together you dumb bird!
Looking a bit more put together this time I see. New staples?
[someone's putting on airs. he expects anything from a chirping invitation to a blade drawn at his neck. hawks left an impression in the alley when they met up after hood's little fun with endeavor. this man's not any more trusting than he is, yet there's something about him he finds amusing and malleable. a little bird kept alone most of his life, suddenly finds himself drawn to the wrong side of the tracks. what a cliche.
seems like hawks' little hero friends aren't enough for him. he pushes off the doorframe and heads inside, leaving the balcony sliders open without a care. his coat tails flutter behind him and fall at the back of his legs, not minding if his boots track anything into the bird's pretty little nest. empty nest for a hero's apartment... hawks shouldn't feel too worried about inviting him in; he invited himself in earlier today.]
They weren't teachin ya pickup lines in that fancy hero facility.
[Hawks has one friend. One. And even she doesn't know what his real name is. He's a shit friend, he's a shit person, and Dabi knows it. He'd been blindsided a bit by the Nomu attack. He hadn't expected it. He's slipping. Getting too close and losing sight of the objective.
He narrows his golden eyes for a moment as he takes in the casual tension in the others body. Watches as the other man steps inside leaving the door open and his shoes on. Hawks doesn't care. He'll clean it up later.
He watches the other man glance around, but they both know he already knows there's nothing really personal here. Even though this is his 'real home' he's not stupid enough to leave personal things around. The commission knows about it even if he wishes they didn't. But at least he picked the furniture in this place over the place he 'officially' lives in. There it was more like a staged home and nothing was comfortable; not even his bed. At least here there's a comfortable bed to sleep in.
He gives a shrug at the dig and plops down on the sofa, the take out still in bags on the coffee table. He can smell the other man as he comes closer. It makes his feathers rustle a bit and he shrugs]
Well darn, and here I thought it was going so well. Let's see. Pick up lines, pick up lines....
[He makes a show of 'thinking' before turning a smile on him, gold eyes shining]
How about, my wings are red, your fire is blue. With a smile like that, looks like I’m doomed?
No?
Hmm, you spend so much time in my mind, I should charge you rent.
Still not good? Alright, you leave me no choice, time for the failsafe!
Are you a campfire? Because you are hot and I want s’more!
[what a lonely life for a hero. all those smiling faces flocking around hawks every time he goes out into the cities. he's listened to people drool over drinks about the man's skill and looks. depraved desires on lips under bridges saying things those pretty light-filled streets would blush to hear. no one would look at hawks and think he's a lonely little bird hiding away in his licensed cage. so many heroes are pathetic wrecks beneath their glowing masks.
it'd be an interesting world were those masks were ripped away and all those hero-addled masses had to face the ugly truth their precious heroes are really monstrous figures. bloody, dark, sinful, and just as fucked up. hawks knows what sort of wreck he is. and he knows he knows it too.
scarred arms fall to his side, one hand sliding into his pocket as he advances on the winged man in front of him. nah, he already scrounged around the place, looking for anything he might be able to take, or use, or simply enjoy. didn't even have a decent beer in the fridge. he initially thought he got the wrong place. but look who's here now.
a heady clunk and glassy clinks see a six-pack of beer setting on the table. trading it for a bag of take out, which he swipes off the coffee table without apology. what's in this one? hawks mentioned earlier, but he might've forgotten on purpose.
... turquoise eyes lift under his choppy black bangs, expression flattening. is this sort of drivel supposed to impress him? curling the bag's top in one hand, he leans forward, catches hawks under his chin, and promptly brings his face to his own, hot half-wrecked lips mashing into the man's mouth. a wet tongue shoves against his teeth before forcing himself inside the hero's mouth, sloppy and messy for several seconds before he breaks it.]
Ya really suck at that, hero. I got somethin better for your mouth.
[Weapons don't have lives. Not really. Hawks is aware of what people think of the carefully crafted persona the Commission has built regarding him. Most of it he deems a necessary evil. Protecting innocent people from those who couldn't be brought in by less desperate means. Better it be him then someone else. He's already damned after all. Let the public day dream about how perfect he is. Let them live in a bubble of black and white and be oblivious. It disarms them. Makes it easier when he needs them for something. But Dabi is different. Dabi sees through him in a way few have and it's as unnerving as it is arousing. He can tell he's not making this meeting any better between himself and his mark. But he's tired. Fuck is he tired, and he just doesn't have the energy to pretend right now.
He glances at the other as a six pack hits the table and Dabi takes the bag containing the order of soba. He doesn't sit, Hawks isn't sure if he expects him to. He doesn't flinch when the scarred man leans down to him. He feels a thrill run up his spine. His danger senses on alert. Dabi is dangerous. Only a fool would think otherwise. But the desire is greater. The need to see how close he can get to the fire before it burns him is far to enticing for him to ignore.
Those stunningly bright eyes fix on him, he spares a moment to think that they seem somewhat familiar, but he lets the thought go as quickly as it appears. There's a hand on his chin in the blink of an eye and then lips on his own. It's less of a kiss and more of an assault. He takes it. Pushes back into it even as he opens his mouth wider and lets him take what he wants. He's panting softly when Dabi pulls back. The pupils in his golden eyes pinprick slits as the raptor inside him thrums beneath his skin.
He shouldn't give in. He should fight it harder. This push/pull they've been doing isn't healthy, it's going to end in bloodshed with one or both of them dead. He finds he really doesn't care.
He pounces. One second he's sitting on the couch and the next he's got Dabi on his floor as he straddles his hips. His wings arch high above him and his hands are fisted in the others coat. He's breathing hard but still finds the ability to give the other a smirk before leaning in for another hungry and punishing kiss. He doesn't bother answering the others dig. He wants something better than his inability to make small talk, fine by him.]
[there are hunters who chase down their prey through bursts of speed, those who set traps and collect the bounty once they're tangled up. and then there are those who walk their prey to death. a never-ending plot slowly and surely until their flight finally drops out of them. he wonders how long it'll take for hawks to land on the ground, too tired to fight and pretend anymore. can't be easy flying around with all those chains dragging behind. doesn't matter what kind of illusion and pretense he gives to his freedom, this hero is nothing more than a slave and puppet who thinks he can do the right thing. trying to make up for his past and validate his own choice. kinda said, isn't it, hero.
food can wait. if he has to listen to more of this man's drivel, he's gonna puke any appetite he had onto the floor. dominating his mouth, plundering his jaws with his tongue, forcing his own spit into hawks' until he feels the hero swallow it down. how many other mouths have been on this man's? how much spit has he drank down his gullet? probably a lot. a handsome guy like him? there's no way the commission didn't whore him out on the side. everyone's pretty little angel with bloody hands and chained wings.
he never bothers breaking eye contact the entire time, staring into hawks' face while forcing the kiss on him. of course he takes it. a desperate man starving for any kind of attention or purpose. even at the hands of gutter trash like him. doesn't even fight. must've been waiting or this even before they texted each other. a light smack of wet flesh breaks from wet flesh and he draws away, deliberately letting saliva spindle between his tongue and hawks' until it breaks.
that shut him up. and spurred him on. the bag of food hits the floor with a clatter, undoubtedly spilling its contents inside. a low grunt spikes from his throat, back on the ground and both hands up in mock "surrender" as hawks mounts his hips and grabs his lapels.] How vicious. Gonna assault me, hero? [hawks attempts to kiss him and he deliberately turns his head to the side, dodging it so he kisses his cheek instead.] Desperate.
[It's infuriating how this man gets under his skin in a way no one ever has before. Hawks want's to rip his throat out as much as he wants to fuck it. Sure he's had honeypot missions. As soon as he was passably old enough they had him out doing as they wished. Sex is tool. It doesn't mean anything. Except when it does. When the person you're interested in is a bastard you should be running from instead of inviting into your house.
Hawks wouldn't be the first puppet the Commission had go rogue. He stays because he knows his replacement will suffer worse than he did just as he endured more than his predecessor. He stays for the innocent people who would suffer because of people like Dabi. He stays because he doesn't know where else to go. A bird in a cage indeed.
Dabi avoids the kiss, his hands held up keeping him from getting to close. Hawks lets out a clicking sound of annoyance and drags his tongue up the side of Dabi's neck before latching onto an earring and giving it a small tug. He did warn him that he likes shiny things.]
Says the man who kissed me first. [He brushes his nose against his pulse point and then bites down hard enough to leave a mark but not break skin before pulling back and standing up, his wings aiding him as he moves. He's so fucking hard. God this is such a bad idea. They've been dancing around each other for weeks and every single time all he wants is more. Dabi doesn't trust him. He does't trust Dabi. But Dabi sees right through Hawks and no one's ever done that before and it makes him want.
He's not used to wanting. He doesn't know how to be a person. He doesn't know how to do this. Sex he can do. Sex is a job. This is technically a job. It's how he'll sell it after all. But fuck if he doesn't want more this time.]
[he didn't expect to snare someone like hawks. so many people came under his eye when he recruited for the league. all of them nothing more than kindling, scraping a living with petty crime and no name to them whatsoever. they weren't useful to anyone. and he didn't need any loose mouths blabbing about things they shouldn't see. didn't really care to bring more people into the league anyways; he only wanted someone he could use. hawks fell into the category.
every word coming from his mouth is suspect. he's not dumb enough to think this bird's been let off his leash. flapping around in the sky as if he's free when a chain remains locked about his ankle. kind of a shame he's so damn stuck on following orders. he could've escaped. but instead he sacrificed himself for the sake of others. makes him sick to think about. maybe that's one reason he likes doing this. forcing his own filth onto a man who pretends he can wipe away his own.
heh. grizzled cheek tissue strains against the staples on his face, splitting at the corner and showing sinew beneath with his grin. annoying? he tries. hawks' click of ire followed by a tongue up his neck makes his chest warm. he likes grating on him, knowing the man's gonna come back anyways. metal clicks between the hero's teeth, one of his cuff rings tugging at his mangled shell.]
Didn't hear ya complainin. [his neck pulls taut, cords hard under his scarred flesh, and he grunts in mild surprise and sensation. teeth sink into his neck, biting at purple wrinkles. feels pressure digging into his skin, no pain or discomfort, only a hard push reaching for his muscle. almost close enough to breaking his skin and bleeding him. haws backs off before he can. coward. he rests his hands behind his head, watching the man stand with a more than prominent bulge in his pants.] Then why'd ya stand up?
[The thing about being stuck in a cage for twelve years is that eventually the walls feel safe and anything outside of them can be terrifying. He doesn't talk about before he debuted four years ago for a reason. He's only now coming to realize just how fucked up everything was. Everything is. Hawks could be turned, it's possible, if someone was willing to show him a better way that didn't involve destroying the entire world and killing loads of innocent people. He wouldn't be the first HPSC operative to go rogue.
He is a spy. He is getting close because he was ordered too. But it's more than that because Dabi is different. He's infuriating and rude and cruel and honest in a way very few people are. Sure he's a sociopath but at least he's honest about it. Hawks might even be a little bit jealous about it.
He stares down at Dabi lying so nonchalant on his floor and shrugs]
I don't know? Nerves? I might be an asshole but I'm not gonna force myself on you. [Help, he's never had a guy he's actually really fucking attracted to in his house before! What do!?
He picks up the bag of take out and sets it back on the table. Thankfully nothing spilled out. Then he turns back to look at Dabi.]
I really didn't think you'd come. [He gives him a hungry smile, the predator inside of him poking through in spite of all his damn training. Damn this man for making him react in ways he's not really used to. If ever there was a person who could pull him out of his cage, it would be this half burned lump of staples and spite. Hawks is equal parts terrified and excited and is way out of his depth because they aren't friends and they aren't fuck buddies. Yet.]
But since you're here. [He sinks back to his knees so he's more beside Dabi than astride him and leans so one hand rests on either side of his shoulders as he leans down closer.]
Wanna see if I can make my neighbors file a noise complaint?
[he's felt the walls of a cage before. they come in all sorts, from buildings to bars to estates to pretty surfaces with pictures on them trying to pretend there's a healthy family festering within the walls. unfortunately, no one in the league is going to show hawks a better way if he has such an annoying criteria for his turning. change isn't nice enough to progress without breaking something, nothing gets fixed without going against what's already there. and sometimes, people burn in the process. hawks should know that well enough.
no matter what the man says, he has no intention of taking his words at face value. heroes aren't trustworthy. in the end, they care about themselves and their goals above everything else. the same as villains, but at least villains are honest about their lies. bringing hawks on board is useful. he pries and sneaks, as expected. there's a game of give and take here, trading information and sussing out others.
yet there's something about him he finds interesting. holding a bird between his hands and watching it try as hard as it can to avoid getting burned. seeing someone struggling against the inevitable... until there's nothing left to do but lose hope and burn up completely. he wonders what's at the core of hawks' ashes.]
Huh? [for a moment, he seems surprised. as "surprised" as his usually impassive face shows. then sinks in a soft laugh, not at all hiding the sarcasm and mean natured sound.] Hard to believe ya got any "nerves" left to worry. [as for forcing himself on him, he only chuffs in amusement at the very idea.] What a gentleman.
[black material hisses as his coat tails drag on the floor and the villain rolls onto his side, one scarred arm tucked beneath his head, ear nestled in the triangle of his jutting elbow. his free arm flops down his side, resting on the profile of his torso and hips.] Ya sure I'm gonna provide ya with the same courtesy?
[he's a villain. never been worried much about consent. knees thud to the ground beside him and blue eyes slide up to peer into the hero's curious gaze. those feelings are going to get him in trouble one day... a hand settles on his shoulder, hotter than most people.] Sounds like a fun night.
[The odd jobs Dabi's had him doing to 'earn' his favor are a necessary evil in his book. He passes along the intel the commission agrees he can sell...and sometimes a bit he's pretty sure he'd get punished for sharing but he could see the situation souring and his top order had been infiltration, so he took that to mean as doing nearly anything he needed to do in order to succeed.
He'd ferreted out as much information as he could on the League before making contact and a bit more since meeting Dabi. But Dabi doesn't exist. He's not been able to find anything about him at all except the few bits of data the public force and the HPSC has on his villain career. He has no idea who this man is or where he came from. He should be worried about that.
But instead Dabi had to go and be this shiny object that caught his attention and made him want to see what could happen if he keeps poking and prodding. His instincts clamoring for him to inspect this new trinket and see if it’s worthy of his undivided attention.
There’s a push and pull of attraction that neither of them hides all that well. He's spared a thought in the past that Dabi might be playing him the same way he's doing to the other. He decides he doesn't care. Perhaps he’s becoming a little too cavalier with his life. He knows affection and safety is not something he's going to get here, but a really good hate fuck is very appealing. Passion is intoxicating. He's learned great sex is a rare thing and he should take it when he can get it.
In spite of the want he finds he is truthful nervous, which is an odd feeling. He's trying to counter it but he's not sure he's all that successful. It's like being around the fire starter makes him lose control of every carefully crafted commission approved piece of his being. He hates to think of the retraining he’s going to require when this is over. That might kill him as well.
The more he stares at the other the more he wants to drag the man into his nest and make the whole place smell like him. He wants those long fingers in his wings. Something he's never let any other bed partner do. He's not even fully sure what it would do to him, but he wants to find out. He wants to devour him. To gorge himself on the others attentions.
He rolls his eyes when Dabi calls him a gentleman. He knew actually converting the flirting to fucking wasn't going to be something Dabi gave into easily. He watches him shift onto his side and wants to push him back over. To straddle him again and see if he can find the right combination of buttons to push to make the other lose his cool and ravage him like a wildfire.
I do seem to remember offering you the option of bending me over multiple surfaces in this place. Or against them. [Dabi has permission to touch him, he doesn't have the same back.
He grins again and with a thought sends some feathers to take the food into the kitchen so they won't mess it up. He's also really glad he doesn't actually have neighbors here because he's pretty sure if they do go all the way the sex might actually be worth him selling himself to the devil]
Gonna let me kiss you this time, hot stuff? [He leans over intending to kiss him again. Not with passion but with hunger and a desire to taste him again like he'd been tasted.
[he existed. once. before his existence was snuffed out by the sound of a child crying in his mother's arms. in a way, maybe he and hawks are similar to that regard. a bird with no identity past what his handlers decided for him. a codename and personality for the masses, with his real self kept locked away. something he aims to dig out and discover for himself. the number two pro hero would never willingly turn on society...
too bad. hawks was such a fun little tool. it's no wonder the heroes loved playing with him. attractive, successful, entertaining, results and popularity bath him in lights and public adoration. the perfect model for another generation of drooling idiots sucking up everything their heroes dumped into their mouths. a hero who'd do anything for the sake of his adoring public and hero society. even get his hands dirty...
kinda fitting. when hawks' usefulness is over, both sides will end up dumping his desiccated body. he wonders where he'll be, and if he'll be the one to find the wrung-out parrot trapped in a cell or lying in a ditch somewhere. a broken toy's not the worst thing to play with.
"gentleman". so concerned with whether a piece of trash's feeling might get hurt. what, does hawks think he comes from a cushy background where people were nice to him and attentive to whether he hurt or not? nah, this guy could pin him to the wall and shove it in raw without asking permission and it'd be just another experience on the streets. not that he thinks hawks has it in him to assault someone like that. his heart's too good.]
Did you? [he drums his fingers on his hips, as if he's rifling through memories.] Gonna be hard to do that when I got knocked to the floor. [a leering smirk tugs at his lips again, deliberately attempting to rile the other man up. it's amusing when hawks' normal cool demeanor unravels.]
Tch- [there goes the food. he was hoping to get some. oh well. as soon as hawks leans over his body, he snaps his free hand up, fists his hair at the back of hawks' head, and pulls him into his mouth. half-scarred lips find his in a bruising crush, a line of metal staples digging into the man's lower lip and chin. tasting of smoke and copper, distinct cigarette as he shoves his wet tongue into hawks' mouth without permission or care.]
[He's not oblivious to those attracted to him, but mostly he doesn't care. It's all an act. Something crafted over years; a role he plays to hide the stain beneath. The public would turn on him in an instant if they knew what he was. What he did. He wouldn't blame them.
He's required to interact with people in public for at least an hour a day. It's literally in his fucking contract. He hates it and he'd love to remove it, but he doesn't get to make those choices. Having people clamor around him spewing adoration and desire. One person's even begged to have his babies. Just..no. No. He plays the part assigned to him and then he goes home. He doesn't get to make many choices at all revolving around his life as a hero or an agent. Even his own hero agency is essentially a government shell so people don't make the connection of who or what he is.
But here in this apartment he has a say. And he says the food can wait. They can eat it after round one before they move on to round two. At least, Hawks hopes they can. He was being honest when he said he was hungry while he and Dabi were texting. But right now he's hungry for something else and unless he's stopped he's not going to until they're at least one orgasm down a piece.
Desire of this intensity is new. He's not a blushing virgin by any means. He's used his body for missions; a tool to ensnare his target and get them off guard before he killed them. And he's used it for release. For when lust and adrenalin leave him feeling like he is vibrating out of his skin and nothing but a good fuck seems to be able to settle him. But it was physical and nothing more. A means to an end. Attraction didn't much matter as long as the body was warm and willing.
He looks down at Dabi feeling something he's still not very familiar with. He's never been drawn to someone. He's never wanted someone to pay attention to him the way he wants Dabi too. He's never wanted like this before.]
Some would argue the floor is the biggest shelf in the home.
[The hand in his hair pulls a startled gasp and cuts off his comment as their mouths meet in crush of flesh and teeth. He welcomes it. Relishes the press of staples against the hair on his skin. He's got facial hair where Dabi doesn't. He wonders briefly if the other feels it or not. A mostly chance meeting, the Commission instructed him to make contact with the League, they never specified a particular target. He'd been picked up by Dabi and that decision has culminated in this man lying on his living room floor kissing him like he's trying to suck his soul out of his body. A wildfire devouring everything in its wake, and Hawks WANTS.
He loses himself a bit in the kiss. It's intoxicating. He tastes like smoke and copper, the cigarettes he smokes. Like blood sizzling over a campfire. Like danger and desire and ruin and something unique to Dabi he can't quite place.
Hawks pushes in harder, a sound of want escaping him as he pushes Dabi over onto his back again. He doesn't try to dislodge the hand in his hair, instead he leans deeper into the kiss making the tug more pronounced. Increasing the pained pleasure in a way that has his hard shaft kicking inside of his underwear. He should have changed his clothes properly. Taken off his compression suit and his cargo pants and put on something easier to remove instead.
He grunts and shifts so he's straddling the other man again. His wings mantle high behind his back before settling a bit, the feathers rustling and reacting to the intense need and desire flooding his system. Drunk. He's fucking drunk off of two damn kisses.
His hands scramble for something to touch, something to do. His slight talons dig into Dabi's coat and he's not sure if he leaves holes or not before he's able to get himself back under control and retract those talons to normal nails again. The Commission makes him keep them trimmed. Makes him wear the gloves so people don't see how much bird he can be.
Society doesn't like heteromorphs. Not really. Best not to give them a reason to be jumpy or suspicious. The Commissions words. Not his. But also not something he really wants to think about. He's never lost control like this before. Not with a bed partner. Not with anyone. Not since he was a kid. Not since the Commission beat it out of him. Literally. Or he thought they had anyway. Just another infraction to add to the growing list of things he'll have to pay for later. But that's future Hawks' problem Right now he's got something more important to focus on.
He shifts his head a bit keeping the hungry kiss going. His golden eyes half open and peering into electric blue. His normally slitted pupils blown wide with lust and need in the dim light. A feather drops the tube of lube he'd sent it to retrieve beside where they lay but he ignores it for now.
The kiss breaks for a moment and the hand in his hair pulls away. He sits up and in a flash rips his compression shirt off of his body in a well practiced motion. His feathers scatter away when he tugs the fabric over his wings and then resettle where they were after. His chest and abdomen are well sculpted from his years spent training. He's strong, but it's streamlined. He's smaller in the shoulders than Dabi is, but considering he's also a little bit shorter than the other that's to be expected. There's a bruise blooming on his right side from a fight he was in earlier in the day. He hadn't paid much attention to it at the time and even now he doesn't really care about it. Nothing's broken so there's no issue. Pain is a good reminder to be better.
He leans back down and kisses Dabi again just as hungry and devouring. He's not asking for permission either. Dabi can stop him if he wants to as he shifts his hips back just a bit and rocks down overtop of the others cock. He groans and then another sound much more bird-like works it's way from him as he does it again. He slides his hands up beneath the others coat intending to try and get him out of it. To get to the skin, the heat, he knows lies beneath what he's wearing. He wants to bask in it. The warmth, much hotter than anyone else he's been this close to. Addictive. Perfect.]
Dabi...F-fuck. Fuck, more. Off. [He shivers and grinds against him for a moment before returning to try and get them naked. To taste him everywhere. To feel his hands all over his own skin. Everything. Anything. All of it.]
Edited (I added more words) Date: 2/6/26 02:58 (UTC)
[isn't it nice? being able to feel some freedom. heroes are always so caught up in their own drivel. clinging to what's considered "decent" and "good" so they can feel better about themselves. bask in popularity and hide their ugly sides. heroes get to be above everyone else. and no one seems to care. going along with it because light's more comfortable than darkness. safer, pleasant, comfortable. it's amusing how this bird feels more freedom in his own cage than he does flying around outside in the open air. too many chains. and he accepts it like a good pet.]
Last time ya bitched about the mess. [called it a "dump" when he brought hawks into the old building and tossed him down on the mattress carelessly chucked earlier onto the floor. beer cans, chip bags, trash. nothing like this spick and span empty apartment the hero calls "home" like a balm. his lips flush to his partner's, debating the urge to sink his teeth through his lower lip and leave hawks with a mark impossible to cover up. a possibility they might come to in the future. he tilts his head to the side, uses his hand to pull hawks' the opposite direction. jaws fit together better, teeth click amid a messy grunt, and he curls his tongue inside hawks' mouth to tangle with the slick muscle nestled inside. feels good, right? the rest of the world vanishing.
oof. his back hits the ground, bony shoulder blades jutting into his coat fabric. the thin white shirt beneath doesn't do anything for cushioning and he wriggles his shoulders once, twice, so he's not butting bone to wood so hard. tch, he was comfortable on his side too. he tents his knee behind hawks' rump, joint popping slightly, and butts it up against his thigh while trapping a wing between both points.
and gone. spit stretches between their lips for a second before snapping and he drops his head to the floor, eyes half-lidded and watching as hawks pulls his shirt free from his body. bared and heaving above him. explodes his wings in the process before putting them back together. slowly wandering his gaze down over the sculpture of his torso, from shoulders to narrow hips, lines made and built for speed and strength. lucky bastard. probably got born with those good genes and the heroes pounced on them like any weapon purveyor.
the second hawks returns, he captures his hair again, fists feathery locks in his own hand, and shoves his tongue in hard once more. messy makes it fun. they're not here for chaste bullshit. hips to hips, grinding together in a lazy back and forth with more need on the way. a hand works under his coat and he shrugs his shoulders, arches his back, letting the man push the black material off his body. at least down to his biceps since he's not gonna help with his arm. they're busy fisting his hair and wandering back to grab a handful of feathers at the base of hawks' wings.]
Ya really getting desperate up there, pretty bird...
[Hawks grumbles against the others lips when he brings up last time] Last time there was a serious risk of tetanus and it took me almost two hours to clean the cigarette butts and trash out of my feathers. And that was after I scattered as many as I could. It would have been better to just fuck in the damn woods.
[When Dabi leans back to watch him take his shirt off he finds himself preening a bit. He loves the other mans eyes. The way they follow him as he moves. They see so much, sometimes more than Hawks wants him to see, but they're entrancing. It's addictive.
Dabi is a drug and Hawks is a junkie seeking another hit. Addiction is in his blood, he should be aware of it, but he doesn't care. He likes that the other finds him attractive. Though it's ironic how attractive he actually is considering he's pretty much gutter trash. Dabi's the one with the breeding and the genes between the two of them. Not that Hawks knows that. He just knows that he finds the other man attractive in a way he doesn't usually pay attention to and his hands seem to have a knack for finding all his little weak spots.
He feels the other shift beneath him. He knows if Dabi doesn't like the position they're in he can and will change it. The other isn't afraid to throw him around and Hawks likes that about him too.
He gets annoyed when Dabi refuses to cooperate in the removal of his coat. One of the older mans hands is back in his hair pulling just right. The other is sliding along his bare skin and around his side, up his back, and to the base of his wing. The sound he lets out is more avian than human and his entire body tenses for a moment before he nearly melts atop the other as a full body shudder runs through him. His wings rustle; the feathers shiver and spread a bit to the sides giving the other more room to touch.
Tease [He's panting and there's a sheen of sweat collecting on his temples and along his shoulders. Dabi is hot. Literally and figuratively and it's making the temperature in the space around them rise. He likes it, it's oddly comforting as they continue to trade hungry and biting kisses. And then that bastard goes and tells him he's a pretty bird even as he's calling him desperate. The biting reply he prepares is cut off by another sound that works its way free as his eyes lull back into his head for a moment and his whole body tenses again. It's not an orgasm, but it is a thrill of pleasure that runs from head to toe. Hearing it said is so much different than reading it on a screen. The hand on his back grips tighter and another shiver rushes through him.]
Thought heroes weren't supposed to whine. [murmured in a lazy drawl against hawks' lips. he hadn't cared at all when the man complained about his substandard meet-up spot. and soon enough, hawks didn't even notice the beer cans and cigarette butts on the floor. all he was doing was raking the sheets and his body while trying not to flap his way off the mattress with each thrust.] Ain't gonna do it in the woods; you'd fly into a tree.
[he hates his eyes. every time he looks into the mirror, that monster stares back at him. full of hatred and disgust at having created something so useless. even worse was the disappointment. always there, always present. no matter what reflective surface he sees, there they are. he had thought to burn them out once...
not really on his mind right now. hawks is taking up the majority of his gray matter. kneeling over him like this, shedding his shirt and baring the defines of his torso and shoulders. healthy cuts and well-fed mounds made for speed and strength. even if it was forced, he was a man well-kept by his handlers. made sleek and able for his job, with a pretty face and nice eyes to capture any wavering trust. every inch of him entrapment for those idiots slobbering over his results and profile. wonder how they'd feel if he let his face a molten mess of scar tissue.
nah, he's not helping. barely moves his shoulders and spine to let hawks push the coat off the broad bones and down his arms to the elbows, where black bunches around stitches and metal cuffs and catches on his elbows. his hands are busy; hawks should've thought about that before. digging into his hair and pulling his head one way or another as he claims his mouth with his teeth and tongue. a lazy breath seeps from his lips when hawks responds to his wing getting grabbed. always does. must not let others fondle those treasures... oof, he flops back on the ground, plastered under a melted bird sprawling over him. bet these are annoying to sleep with.]
You like it. [teasing him. he curls his fingers around the wing joint, almost fisting connective tissue and bone, before pushing upward. deliberately drags small feathers and larger with his hand, flattening them momentarily along hawks' wing limb. so tempting to pull back and really ruffle those red down. felt that, huh. the way hawks practically dry orgasms over a few stupid words and some mouth play. he abandons the blonde's wing and predatory strikes down, cupping the hero's dick through his pants. squeezing and groping in a rude, taunting motion.] Didja just cum over some sweet talk? That's kinda cute.
[a broken chirping laugh bubbles out of him when Dabi tells him he’d fly into a tree if they fucked in the woods.] Think the risk of forest fire is higher than my flying into a tree. [a groan leaves him when they grind together just right]
Besides. I thought you liked me a little bloody. Or is that only when you cause it?
[The sounds Hawks is making are something he will hate himself for later, but right now he feels to good to care. Touch starved and desperate for the others hands on him he’s happily allowing Dabi to prod him in places he doesn’t let others touch. It’s stupid and he shouldn’t be letting it happen. Maybe one day he’ll care enough to stop it.
Sleeping with the wings is easier than you’d think. Probably a lot easier than sleeping with staples everywhere.
When Dabi’s hand traces the delicate bones up his wing and then comes back down along his feathers he makes a clicking sound in his chest again. But then the hand in his wing is gripping his cock through his pants and he tenses as a screech escapes. He winces. That was louder than he’d expected.]
No I did—Fucking fuck, Dabs…gentle with the merchandise.
[Except they both know he likes it rough and this is nothing compared to what the other can do. He knows Dabi can feel his cock twitching where he’s gripping him.]
Okay. Enough of this…
[He leans down and presses close not caring if he is trapping that hand against his cock. It’s just for a minute. He uses his wings to help himself gain enough leverage to stand and pull Dabi upright with him. With both of them standing it’s a lot easier to start attacking clothes and getting them both properly naked.]
Wanna see if we can break the orgasm record from last time?
[he barely gives a sound when hawks counters his comment, a little too distracted by the body atop him and lips on his own.] Rude. Ya actin like I set everythin on fire. [why would he set the forest ablaze? wasn't like he had a bunch of kids to try smoking out that time around.]
Dunno. You'll have to come see me after ya get knocked around. [he'll be the one keeping those noises to himself in his mind, maybe play them around his head later when he's thinking back on their time together. hawks can embarrass himself over them another time; he'll enjoy the idea of this man flustering because he got sounds dragged unbidden from his throat. if hawks cared enough to stop this, they wouldn't even be on the floor in the first place.
as long as he's not sleeping under scratchy blankets atop ratty mattresses that catch on his staples and tug them at night, he's fine. not that he cares if he wakes up and finds one or two pulled free. another gift from that monster.
can't stop the way his lips hook in a small grin at the high-pitched sound escaping the man's mouth. for a man with wings, he's got more avian traits than he wants to admit. he tightens his grip, squeezing him harder through the tan of his flight pants and the dark material clinging to his hips beneath.]
Ya don't want gentle. [and crawls his hand down further, actively ignoring hawks' dick and going instead for his balls. cupping the pair in his fingers and palm until the heel's digging into his balls and fingertips are pressing hard at his perineum for a few deliberate hard rubs.] Feel that? You're already twitchin like crazy right here...
[both eyes widen slightly, piqued surprise, when hawks suddenly flops atop him and abruptly hauls himself (and him) up onto his feet. using his wings like a damn gust to send them rocking. a rush of blood swarms his head, he has to lock his knees and brace his feet slightly so there's no stumbling.] Oy, ya want me to get motion sick?
[griping like he's somehow been unfairly punished. but at least he'll be nice enough and let hawks start divesting him of his clothes. his coat hits the ground in a fluttering crash of leather, threads, and metal cuffs.] How many or how fast?
[It's insane how one man can undo years worth of training in such a short time, or maybe the training never stuck in the first place and he's simply out of his head enough to not hide it. Doesn't really matter in the end, he's unable to stop the sounds escaping. Good thing the older man likes them.
He is indeed twitching like crazy when Dabi's hand slips from his cock to palming his balls and lower. His body clenches down tightly on nothing and he feels the ache of being empty a bit keener.
When they're upright and Dabi sways while complaining, Hawks leans up and kisses the side of his mouth]
M' sorry, floor wasn't cutting it. And before you say it, yes, I know it was my fault, but to be fair you started it.
[His hands tug and work Dabi's coat off of him before attacking the others shirt. He's not as rough as he could be, as excited as he is making Dabi bleed all over he place would kind of defeat the purpose. He doesn't want to pull too many staples out if he can avoid it.
When the dark haired man asks him how many or how fast Hawks just gives him a wicked sort of grin]
Yes.
[He drops his own pants leaving him in just the lower portion of his compression suit and reaches out to grip Dabi's belt to start working it off if he's allowed to.]
[keep talking about him in your head like that and he's gonna have to temper his pride later. seeing and hearing a trained hero lapdog like this starting to break down and grow flustered in his grip brings a swell of interesting feelings to his chest. something he thinks might remind him of happiness he felt a long time ago. blackened and bitter with something a lot uglier. but there's no doubt he enjoys witnessing it.
not as happy when he's hauled to his feet and his eyes threaten to roll around in his damn head. a little warning would be nice next time. hawks is being as careless with his motion sensitivity as the damn lizard handling the truck. does he want him to collapse on his feet in front of him? ... mean. he turns his head to the side a bit when hawks leans up and starts pecking at the corner. grumpy and maybe pouting. what's he look like, a ten year old?]
I didn't start anythin. [he was content to lie on the ground like a rug and fuck down there in the dirt. or lack of dirt. for someone who doesn't spend much time here, the place is clean. he refuses to lift his arms this time, hawks has to pull his shirt up and over his head, then off his arms, if he wants to get the threadbare white thing out of his sight. don't rip it. he went dumpster diving for that. figures the hero'd be careful. doesn't wanna tug a staple and get blood all over his nice floor and couch.
he shakes the shirt free of his hand, not caring where it lands. baring his ruined, rotting body all worn down from living on the streets. lanky and wire taut, a notable difference between himself and hawks. the hero's healthy sleek. he's the opposite.]
Ya havin way too much fun with this. [but he lifts his hands and arms in mock surrender, letting hawks attack his belt and work the thick buckle open. they're the main hold on his hips, so once loose, his pants quickly take a one-way plummet around his boots. least he's got a worn part of boxer briefs this time. mostly he goes commando like a reject.] Surprised ya legs aren't fallin asleep with how tight those are.
[That only makes him want to do it more. Just a little hint of rebellion. After all, Dabi's got him doing little things and jobs he's never been allowed to do before. Even though the Commission knows about it, he still gets to do it and it's fun. He doesn't really get to have fun with how busy he is. He's not really allowed to do much of anything they don't give him express permission to do. He really wasn't lying about not being a real person. Real people have hobbies. Hawks just works, and occasionally eats and sleeps when they let him.
He also doesn't get to have wild, crazy, sex like other people get to have. He doesn't get to have relationships with people. That means attachments and weak points that can be exploited. The nameless bodies he's been with before were nothing like this. They didn't mean anything to him, nor he to them. They didn't want to take him apart and leave him a pile of shuddering ashes and feathers with a head as empty as the rest of him. Having the noise inside your head turned off is a rush, and as we've established, Hawks is a junkie for the drug that is Dabi.]
I really am sorry, I forgot you get motion sick. I'd ask if you're okay but you'd probably light me on fire and well, that's not as fun as what we were doing.
[Yeah, he's rambling. Sue him. He manages to get the others shirt off even though Dabi is no help at all. He takes a moment to take him in. The staples glint in the dim light and his eyes widen a bit, gaze narrowed in on them for a second before the others voice pulls him out of it. He smiles as he works the others belt off and watches them his pants fall to the floor. Maybe he should get the other man some better clothes. He can afford it after all.
But he's not overly sure Dabi would like to have him as a sugar daddy...besides, getting gifts for one another isn't something fuck buddies do. Right?]
They make my ass look amazing. [And they do, he kneels down to fight with the others shoes and pants and while he's down there he might lean in and press his face to the front of he others boxer briefs. Dabi did say he had something better for his mouth to do, didn't he?
He manages to somehow get the other man free of his remaining clothes with little to no help from him and then he's tugging his underpants down revealing his rather perfect cock. At least in Hawks opinion. It's perfect for him. Hits all the right places, and it's got shiny adornments decorating it that he really enjoys tasting. He grips him gently and looks up, golden eyes locking with turquoise, then drags his tongue up the length from base to tip making sure to hit every rung on the ladder pierced there.]
[aw, that's kinda cute he thinks betraying his comrades and killing his coworkers are little things he never got to do before. he's not about to let some damn hero get close to their ranks without proving himself as fucked-up as the rest of them. surprising to hear hawks even bring up the suggestion when they first met. and he sounded so irritated when he sicced hood on endeavor back then. neither of them trusted each other, so why should he stick to the deal as literal as hawks demanded? he should've suspected a change. guess he's gotta come up with another little chore... wonder what'd be something useful and interesting, but wouldn't overstep his own bounds.]
Ya runnin your mouth too much. [really starting to sound like some damn schoolgirl with a flustered crush. his hair springs back into spiky place once his shirt clears his head, not even bothering to shake his skull and "fix" some of the kinda-mussed spines. it's been a long time since he felt anything self-conscious about his body. that trait died years ago. hawks eyes wander across his flesh and scars, wiry lines and slight malnourished edges. wouldn't have mattered if he were completely naked in front of him. it's the goal after all.
with his pants down, he knocks a foot back and starts toeing the hell of his boot, pinning it to the floor so he can drag his leg out. at least until hawks goes down to help his efforts. between a hand on his boot and shin, a brief tug and it jerks free, getting his pants leg caught around his foot. he doesn't miss a beat dragging the material inside out as he steps down barefoot on the floor and lets the hero work the other one out. while mashing his face into his groin. desperate enough to earn a lazy grin on his lips.] Most people ain't gonna see 'em though.
[hawks always wears those brown coveralls. one or two shaky kicks shuck his pants off completely, leaving him in just the pair of boxer briefs that look newer than everything else. stole those recently. they slide down easily, revealing an infuriatingly still limp dick. (totally did that on purpose just to ruffles hawks' feathers. took some intense willpower to keep it down though.) at least his conflagration and recovery managed to keep his hips relatively intact, sparing his dick and ass from the same lavender state. the four-rung frenum ladder is still warm from being tucked against his balls the past several minutes, rippling under hawks' tongue. and quickly starts swelling because he's not trying to stop it. jerk.] Betcha a lotta people've seen this...
[Okay. So maybe not everything he did for the League was or is fun. 'Killing' his friend wasn't fun; but that's not something he's going to unpack tonight. And the whole thing with the Nomu and Endeavor was more of a 'that was a dickish thing to do, and hey, you almost fucking killed me'. How's he meant to be an asset if you kill him?! But the spy stuff is fun. Gathering intel, stealing things; some things the Commission doesn't know he's taken....but those are for himself. Not the League. The high end had caused him more harm than anything else he's faced as a pro. He'd been nearly grounded after the fight due to his wings being heavily damaged. Broken feathers hurt. A lot.
As the other is undressed Hawks finds his eyes traveling to the spaces held together by staples. The glinting silver steals his focus for small intervals of time but he also takes time to simply observe the other. His burns look painful but as far as he understands Dabi doesn't have much feeling in the scars, which he supposes is a blessing in some cases. Idly, he's wondered if there's a way to actually help the other man not have to deal with this sort of shit. Surely there's someone who can help him that doesn't care if he's a psychotic, murderous, raving, lunatic. Right?
Where Dabi is a patchwork of pain and survival, Hawks' body is covered in fine, barely noticeable scars. One wouldn't see many of them unless they were looking for them. Miles of tanned and toned flesh on display along with the crimson feathers sprouting from his back. He knows he's hot. He's not afraid to show it. And, as far as his own clothing is concerned. He wears what he's told to wear, so if you have complaints about his attire forward them to the HPSC. They'll file them in the proper folders.
His cock is a bit shorter in length than Dabi's but nearly as thick around. No piercings, uncut, and currently hard as stone. His shaft twitches a bit and a bead of precome gathers at the rosy tip as he kneels there with arousal as things get hotter between them. Dabi messing with his wings earlier still has pleasure thrumming in his veins.
Hawks isn't put off by the limp cock in front of him. Not the first time it's happened and won't be the last he's sure. He wagers it's more for control, and less because he's not into it. Dabi seems like the type to want to be in control of as much as he possibly can; and Hawks knows he likes to ruffle his feathers. Literally and figuratively.
When the other man stares down at him while the blonde teases his cock to hardness and comments about a lot of people seeing him like this; he smirks.]
Is that a little jealousy I hear there, hot stuff? [He lets his mouth seal around the top piercing of the ladder and worries it with his tongue before letting it go.]
Don't worry, you're my favorite. [And then he's leaning up and taking that growing length into his mouth as deep as he can in a steady and slow pace. He doesn't have much of a gag reflex, but he can't rush it, not at first. Plus, he does actually want to enjoy himself if being allowed to have this.]
[taking a look at him, huh? this rotting corpse held together by metal and sheer grudge alone. should've died a long time ago, but he isn't ready to feed worms just yet. someone else needs to join him on his trip. an end goal he has to see through. how fitting for some high-flying golden bird to find himself staring at the gutter trash he sails over so often. arms by his side, head cocked slightly, he lets him look all he wants, amused this man finds his body so interesting. hawks has practically every eye in the world, thousands willing to sleep with him and suck his dick until he's spent his balls ten times over. yet he's here. with him. what a waste.
no accounting for bad taste, huh. he isn't still in his own wandering. aqua eyes picking from one fine razor cut after another. hadn't noticed them at first, but he's seen this man close up a few times now. slightly lighter than the rest of his skin, as if some bird's walked all over his body and scratched him a million times. probably due to his own feathers as he learned to control them. or those bastards in the hero center wanting to see what their little pet could put up with. couldn't let their prize weapon crumple over bit of pain.
kneeling in front of him, hard and wanting, ready to take whatever he gives him. two fingers twitch at his side, eyes lidding every so slightly. could turn his hand and torch him right now, burn him to ash. probably too distracted to react... nah, hawks is already oozing between his thighs. he's not so impatient to rob himself a good fuck.]
Whatcha gonna do if I said yes? [mild droning as a taunt. bony fingers press their tips into hawks' hair at the hairline, smoothing backwards and combing those unruly bangs towards his crown. a low breath ghosts across his lower lip as the man begins lapping at him a few more times before closing his lips around the piercing closest to his tip. precum wells without permission and drips down onto his shaft. a lazy glassy slide breaking over the hero's upper lip.]
Careful. Ya gonna make me feel special. [he tightens his hand in the man's hair as soon as he leans in and pulls, dragging hawks' open mouth over his shaft. wet smears across his palate, shoves his tongue down into his lower jaw, he fills his mouth without care. one piercing clicks over his lower teeth after the other, demarcating the depths with each jolt tugging at his dick's skin. doesn't matter if hawks doesn't wanna rush it.
he gets to the back of his mouth... and abruptly snaps his hips forward, shoving right down his throat.] C'mon, didn't ya want it?
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continues 🚬 for "number2hero"
Date: 2/1/26 00:22 (UTC)[there were when he got there. not many. might have added a few from the cabinets for the hell of it. he rummaged around looking for anything interesting. didn't bother hiding his tracks this time. hawks knew he'd been there. even if he didn't, the truth came out with their text. too bad for the bird.
how he found out where hawks lived is a secret he'll keep to himself. knowing the winged hero will fret over the knowledge is more entertaining. wouldn't expect hawks to pack up and move after tonight, running scared to another safe location so the commission can keep their pet bird securely caged up. or what remains of the commission...
standing outside the home, he lingers in the breeze. should he even bother? it's nothing more than a casual fling, bothering a hero who thinks he's got what it takes to be a villain. hasn't trusted a damn word from his mouth since the start. at least there's a refreshing sense of cutthroat killer in hawks he doesn't see in those other goody-two-shoes heroes parading around the streets...
oh well. a fake's better than a ghost.
fuck climbing the trellis. a brief gout of blue jets him from the lawn to the balcony, not caring about the scorched patch now below. let hawks explain it tomorrow. door's open, as expected. he folds his arms over his stomach and leans a shoulder to the doorframe, casual and callous, black bangs brushing shadows over his eyes.]
Hey, Number 2.
no subject
Date: 2/1/26 00:39 (UTC)His feathers tell him when the other man arrives. He knows he's there but he doesn't react. No point. Dabi will come in or he won't. The balcony door is open. His own boots beside the door indicating this is his usual mode of entry. He glances over when that sultry voice reaches his ears and he gives him a half smirk putting on a bravado he's not sure he really feels because let's be real. He's invited a super villain to his house. Sane people don't do that.]
Hi
[Lame. He's so fucking lame. Get it together you dumb bird!
Looking a bit more put together this time I see. New staples?
no subject
Date: 2/1/26 02:33 (UTC)seems like hawks' little hero friends aren't enough for him. he pushes off the doorframe and heads inside, leaving the balcony sliders open without a care. his coat tails flutter behind him and fall at the back of his legs, not minding if his boots track anything into the bird's pretty little nest. empty nest for a hero's apartment... hawks shouldn't feel too worried about inviting him in; he invited himself in earlier today.]
They weren't teachin ya pickup lines in that fancy hero facility.
[that's pretty obvious.]
no subject
Date: 2/1/26 03:13 (UTC)He narrows his golden eyes for a moment as he takes in the casual tension in the others body. Watches as the other man steps inside leaving the door open and his shoes on. Hawks doesn't care. He'll clean it up later.
He watches the other man glance around, but they both know he already knows there's nothing really personal here. Even though this is his 'real home' he's not stupid enough to leave personal things around. The commission knows about it even if he wishes they didn't. But at least he picked the furniture in this place over the place he 'officially' lives in. There it was more like a staged home and nothing was comfortable; not even his bed. At least here there's a comfortable bed to sleep in.
He gives a shrug at the dig and plops down on the sofa, the take out still in bags on the coffee table. He can smell the other man as he comes closer. It makes his feathers rustle a bit and he shrugs]
Well darn, and here I thought it was going so well. Let's see. Pick up lines, pick up lines....
[He makes a show of 'thinking' before turning a smile on him, gold eyes shining]
How about, my wings are red, your fire is blue. With a smile like that, looks like I’m doomed?
No?
Hmm, you spend so much time in my mind, I should charge you rent.
Still not good? Alright, you leave me no choice, time for the failsafe!
Are you a campfire? Because you are hot and I want s’more!
no subject
Date: 2/1/26 16:40 (UTC)it'd be an interesting world were those masks were ripped away and all those hero-addled masses had to face the ugly truth their precious heroes are really monstrous figures. bloody, dark, sinful, and just as fucked up. hawks knows what sort of wreck he is. and he knows he knows it too.
scarred arms fall to his side, one hand sliding into his pocket as he advances on the winged man in front of him. nah, he already scrounged around the place, looking for anything he might be able to take, or use, or simply enjoy. didn't even have a decent beer in the fridge. he initially thought he got the wrong place. but look who's here now.
a heady clunk and glassy clinks see a six-pack of beer setting on the table. trading it for a bag of take out, which he swipes off the coffee table without apology. what's in this one? hawks mentioned earlier, but he might've forgotten on purpose.
... turquoise eyes lift under his choppy black bangs, expression flattening. is this sort of drivel supposed to impress him? curling the bag's top in one hand, he leans forward, catches hawks under his chin, and promptly brings his face to his own, hot half-wrecked lips mashing into the man's mouth. a wet tongue shoves against his teeth before forcing himself inside the hero's mouth, sloppy and messy for several seconds before he breaks it.]
Ya really suck at that, hero. I got somethin better for your mouth.
no subject
Date: 2/1/26 17:22 (UTC)He glances at the other as a six pack hits the table and Dabi takes the bag containing the order of soba. He doesn't sit, Hawks isn't sure if he expects him to. He doesn't flinch when the scarred man leans down to him. He feels a thrill run up his spine. His danger senses on alert. Dabi is dangerous. Only a fool would think otherwise. But the desire is greater. The need to see how close he can get to the fire before it burns him is far to enticing for him to ignore.
Those stunningly bright eyes fix on him, he spares a moment to think that they seem somewhat familiar, but he lets the thought go as quickly as it appears. There's a hand on his chin in the blink of an eye and then lips on his own. It's less of a kiss and more of an assault. He takes it. Pushes back into it even as he opens his mouth wider and lets him take what he wants. He's panting softly when Dabi pulls back. The pupils in his golden eyes pinprick slits as the raptor inside him thrums beneath his skin.
He shouldn't give in. He should fight it harder. This push/pull they've been doing isn't healthy, it's going to end in bloodshed with one or both of them dead. He finds he really doesn't care.
He pounces. One second he's sitting on the couch and the next he's got Dabi on his floor as he straddles his hips. His wings arch high above him and his hands are fisted in the others coat. He's breathing hard but still finds the ability to give the other a smirk before leaning in for another hungry and punishing kiss. He doesn't bother answering the others dig. He wants something better than his inability to make small talk, fine by him.]
no subject
Date: 2/2/26 03:09 (UTC)food can wait. if he has to listen to more of this man's drivel, he's gonna puke any appetite he had onto the floor. dominating his mouth, plundering his jaws with his tongue, forcing his own spit into hawks' until he feels the hero swallow it down. how many other mouths have been on this man's? how much spit has he drank down his gullet? probably a lot. a handsome guy like him? there's no way the commission didn't whore him out on the side. everyone's pretty little angel with bloody hands and chained wings.
he never bothers breaking eye contact the entire time, staring into hawks' face while forcing the kiss on him. of course he takes it. a desperate man starving for any kind of attention or purpose. even at the hands of gutter trash like him. doesn't even fight. must've been waiting or this even before they texted each other. a light smack of wet flesh breaks from wet flesh and he draws away, deliberately letting saliva spindle between his tongue and hawks' until it breaks.
that shut him up. and spurred him on. the bag of food hits the floor with a clatter, undoubtedly spilling its contents inside. a low grunt spikes from his throat, back on the ground and both hands up in mock "surrender" as hawks mounts his hips and grabs his lapels.] How vicious. Gonna assault me, hero? [hawks attempts to kiss him and he deliberately turns his head to the side, dodging it so he kisses his cheek instead.] Desperate.
no subject
Date: 2/2/26 04:03 (UTC)Hawks wouldn't be the first puppet the Commission had go rogue. He stays because he knows his replacement will suffer worse than he did just as he endured more than his predecessor. He stays for the innocent people who would suffer because of people like Dabi. He stays because he doesn't know where else to go. A bird in a cage indeed.
Dabi avoids the kiss, his hands held up keeping him from getting to close. Hawks lets out a clicking sound of annoyance and drags his tongue up the side of Dabi's neck before latching onto an earring and giving it a small tug. He did warn him that he likes shiny things.]
Says the man who kissed me first. [He brushes his nose against his pulse point and then bites down hard enough to leave a mark but not break skin before pulling back and standing up, his wings aiding him as he moves. He's so fucking hard. God this is such a bad idea. They've been dancing around each other for weeks and every single time all he wants is more. Dabi doesn't trust him. He does't trust Dabi. But Dabi sees right through Hawks and no one's ever done that before and it makes him want.
He's not used to wanting. He doesn't know how to be a person. He doesn't know how to do this. Sex he can do. Sex is a job. This is technically a job. It's how he'll sell it after all. But fuck if he doesn't want more this time.]
I thought you didn't want to talk.
no subject
Date: 2/3/26 00:03 (UTC)every word coming from his mouth is suspect. he's not dumb enough to think this bird's been let off his leash. flapping around in the sky as if he's free when a chain remains locked about his ankle. kind of a shame he's so damn stuck on following orders. he could've escaped. but instead he sacrificed himself for the sake of others. makes him sick to think about. maybe that's one reason he likes doing this. forcing his own filth onto a man who pretends he can wipe away his own.
heh. grizzled cheek tissue strains against the staples on his face, splitting at the corner and showing sinew beneath with his grin. annoying? he tries. hawks' click of ire followed by a tongue up his neck makes his chest warm. he likes grating on him, knowing the man's gonna come back anyways. metal clicks between the hero's teeth, one of his cuff rings tugging at his mangled shell.]
Didn't hear ya complainin. [his neck pulls taut, cords hard under his scarred flesh, and he grunts in mild surprise and sensation. teeth sink into his neck, biting at purple wrinkles. feels pressure digging into his skin, no pain or discomfort, only a hard push reaching for his muscle. almost close enough to breaking his skin and bleeding him. haws backs off before he can. coward. he rests his hands behind his head, watching the man stand with a more than prominent bulge in his pants.] Then why'd ya stand up?
I'm genuinely curious to see if Dabi could turn him
Date: 2/3/26 00:43 (UTC)He is a spy. He is getting close because he was ordered too. But it's more than that because Dabi is different. He's infuriating and rude and cruel and honest in a way very few people are. Sure he's a sociopath but at least he's honest about it. Hawks might even be a little bit jealous about it.
He stares down at Dabi lying so nonchalant on his floor and shrugs]
I don't know? Nerves? I might be an asshole but I'm not gonna force myself on you. [Help, he's never had a guy he's actually really fucking attracted to in his house before! What do!?
He picks up the bag of take out and sets it back on the table. Thankfully nothing spilled out. Then he turns back to look at Dabi.]
I really didn't think you'd come. [He gives him a hungry smile, the predator inside of him poking through in spite of all his damn training. Damn this man for making him react in ways he's not really used to. If ever there was a person who could pull him out of his cage, it would be this half burned lump of staples and spite. Hawks is equal parts terrified and excited and is way out of his depth because they aren't friends and they aren't fuck buddies. Yet.]
But since you're here. [He sinks back to his knees so he's more beside Dabi than astride him and leans so one hand rests on either side of his shoulders as he leans down closer.]
Wanna see if I can make my neighbors file a noise complaint?
Hey, if it'll stick it to Endeavor, he might be willing to entertain the idea...
Date: 2/4/26 05:12 (UTC)no matter what the man says, he has no intention of taking his words at face value. heroes aren't trustworthy. in the end, they care about themselves and their goals above everything else. the same as villains, but at least villains are honest about their lies. bringing hawks on board is useful. he pries and sneaks, as expected. there's a game of give and take here, trading information and sussing out others.
yet there's something about him he finds interesting. holding a bird between his hands and watching it try as hard as it can to avoid getting burned. seeing someone struggling against the inevitable... until there's nothing left to do but lose hope and burn up completely. he wonders what's at the core of hawks' ashes.]
Huh? [for a moment, he seems surprised. as "surprised" as his usually impassive face shows. then sinks in a soft laugh, not at all hiding the sarcasm and mean natured sound.] Hard to believe ya got any "nerves" left to worry. [as for forcing himself on him, he only chuffs in amusement at the very idea.] What a gentleman.
[black material hisses as his coat tails drag on the floor and the villain rolls onto his side, one scarred arm tucked beneath his head, ear nestled in the triangle of his jutting elbow. his free arm flops down his side, resting on the profile of his torso and hips.] Ya sure I'm gonna provide ya with the same courtesy?
[he's a villain. never been worried much about consent. knees thud to the ground beside him and blue eyes slide up to peer into the hero's curious gaze. those feelings are going to get him in trouble one day... a hand settles on his shoulder, hotter than most people.] Sounds like a fun night.
If he knew what happened, he'd help Dabi do it. Never meet your heroes kids
Date: 2/4/26 12:16 (UTC)He'd ferreted out as much information as he could on the League before making contact and a bit more since meeting Dabi. But Dabi doesn't exist. He's not been able to find anything about him at all except the few bits of data the public force and the HPSC has on his villain career. He has no idea who this man is or where he came from. He should be worried about that.
But instead Dabi had to go and be this shiny object that caught his attention and made him want to see what could happen if he keeps poking and prodding. His instincts clamoring for him to inspect this new trinket and see if it’s worthy of his undivided attention.
There’s a push and pull of attraction that neither of them hides all that well. He's spared a thought in the past that Dabi might be playing him the same way he's doing to the other. He decides he doesn't care. Perhaps he’s becoming a little too cavalier with his life. He knows affection and safety is not something he's going to get here, but a really good hate fuck is very appealing. Passion is intoxicating. He's learned great sex is a rare thing and he should take it when he can get it.
In spite of the want he finds he is truthful nervous, which is an odd feeling. He's trying to counter it but he's not sure he's all that successful. It's like being around the fire starter makes him lose control of every carefully crafted commission approved piece of his being. He hates to think of the retraining he’s going to require when this is over. That might kill him as well.
The more he stares at the other the more he wants to drag the man into his nest and make the whole place smell like him. He wants those long fingers in his wings. Something he's never let any other bed partner do. He's not even fully sure what it would do to him, but he wants to find out. He wants to devour him. To gorge himself on the others attentions.
He rolls his eyes when Dabi calls him a gentleman. He knew actually converting the flirting to fucking wasn't going to be something Dabi gave into easily. He watches him shift onto his side and wants to push him back over. To straddle him again and see if he can find the right combination of buttons to push to make the other lose his cool and ravage him like a wildfire.
I do seem to remember offering you the option of bending me over multiple surfaces in this place. Or against them. [Dabi has permission to touch him, he doesn't have the same back.
He grins again and with a thought sends some feathers to take the food into the kitchen so they won't mess it up. He's also really glad he doesn't actually have neighbors here because he's pretty sure if they do go all the way the sex might actually be worth him selling himself to the devil]
Gonna let me kiss you this time, hot stuff? [He leans over intending to kiss him again. Not with passion but with hunger and a desire to taste him again like he'd been tasted.
he'll know all about it after the war.
Date: 2/5/26 14:40 (UTC)too bad. hawks was such a fun little tool. it's no wonder the heroes loved playing with him. attractive, successful, entertaining, results and popularity bath him in lights and public adoration. the perfect model for another generation of drooling idiots sucking up everything their heroes dumped into their mouths. a hero who'd do anything for the sake of his adoring public and hero society. even get his hands dirty...
kinda fitting. when hawks' usefulness is over, both sides will end up dumping his desiccated body. he wonders where he'll be, and if he'll be the one to find the wrung-out parrot trapped in a cell or lying in a ditch somewhere. a broken toy's not the worst thing to play with.
"gentleman". so concerned with whether a piece of trash's feeling might get hurt. what, does hawks think he comes from a cushy background where people were nice to him and attentive to whether he hurt or not? nah, this guy could pin him to the wall and shove it in raw without asking permission and it'd be just another experience on the streets. not that he thinks hawks has it in him to assault someone like that. his heart's too good.]
Did you? [he drums his fingers on his hips, as if he's rifling through memories.] Gonna be hard to do that when I got knocked to the floor. [a leering smirk tugs at his lips again, deliberately attempting to rile the other man up. it's amusing when hawks' normal cool demeanor unravels.]
Tch- [there goes the food. he was hoping to get some. oh well. as soon as hawks leans over his body, he snaps his free hand up, fists his hair at the back of hawks' head, and pulls him into his mouth. half-scarred lips find his in a bruising crush, a line of metal staples digging into the man's lower lip and chin. tasting of smoke and copper, distinct cigarette as he shoves his wet tongue into hawks' mouth without permission or care.]
all of the words for you for when you get back!!!!!!!!!!!
Date: 2/5/26 22:58 (UTC)He's required to interact with people in public for at least an hour a day. It's literally in his fucking contract. He hates it and he'd love to remove it, but he doesn't get to make those choices. Having people clamor around him spewing adoration and desire. One person's even begged to have his babies. Just..no. No. He plays the part assigned to him and then he goes home. He doesn't get to make many choices at all revolving around his life as a hero or an agent. Even his own hero agency is essentially a government shell so people don't make the connection of who or what he is.
But here in this apartment he has a say. And he says the food can wait. They can eat it after round one before they move on to round two. At least, Hawks hopes they can. He was being honest when he said he was hungry while he and Dabi were texting. But right now he's hungry for something else and unless he's stopped he's not going to until they're at least one orgasm down a piece.
Desire of this intensity is new. He's not a blushing virgin by any means. He's used his body for missions; a tool to ensnare his target and get them off guard before he killed them. And he's used it for release. For when lust and adrenalin leave him feeling like he is vibrating out of his skin and nothing but a good fuck seems to be able to settle him. But it was physical and nothing more. A means to an end. Attraction didn't much matter as long as the body was warm and willing.
He looks down at Dabi feeling something he's still not very familiar with. He's never been drawn to someone. He's never wanted someone to pay attention to him the way he wants Dabi too. He's never wanted like this before.]
Some would argue the floor is the biggest shelf in the home.
[The hand in his hair pulls a startled gasp and cuts off his comment as their mouths meet in crush of flesh and teeth. He welcomes it. Relishes the press of staples against the hair on his skin. He's got facial hair where Dabi doesn't. He wonders briefly if the other feels it or not. A mostly chance meeting, the Commission instructed him to make contact with the League, they never specified a particular target. He'd been picked up by Dabi and that decision has culminated in this man lying on his living room floor kissing him like he's trying to suck his soul out of his body. A wildfire devouring everything in its wake, and Hawks WANTS.
He loses himself a bit in the kiss. It's intoxicating. He tastes like smoke and copper, the cigarettes he smokes. Like blood sizzling over a campfire. Like danger and desire and ruin and something unique to Dabi he can't quite place.
Hawks pushes in harder, a sound of want escaping him as he pushes Dabi over onto his back again. He doesn't try to dislodge the hand in his hair, instead he leans deeper into the kiss making the tug more pronounced. Increasing the pained pleasure in a way that has his hard shaft kicking inside of his underwear. He should have changed his clothes properly. Taken off his compression suit and his cargo pants and put on something easier to remove instead.
He grunts and shifts so he's straddling the other man again. His wings mantle high behind his back before settling a bit, the feathers rustling and reacting to the intense need and desire flooding his system. Drunk. He's fucking drunk off of two damn kisses.
His hands scramble for something to touch, something to do. His slight talons dig into Dabi's coat and he's not sure if he leaves holes or not before he's able to get himself back under control and retract those talons to normal nails again. The Commission makes him keep them trimmed. Makes him wear the gloves so people don't see how much bird he can be.
Society doesn't like heteromorphs. Not really. Best not to give them a reason to be jumpy or suspicious. The Commissions words. Not his. But also not something he really wants to think about. He's never lost control like this before. Not with a bed partner. Not with anyone. Not since he was a kid. Not since the Commission beat it out of him. Literally. Or he thought they had anyway. Just another infraction to add to the growing list of things he'll have to pay for later. But that's future Hawks' problem Right now he's got something more important to focus on.
He shifts his head a bit keeping the hungry kiss going. His golden eyes half open and peering into electric blue. His normally slitted pupils blown wide with lust and need in the dim light. A feather drops the tube of lube he'd sent it to retrieve beside where they lay but he ignores it for now.
The kiss breaks for a moment and the hand in his hair pulls away. He sits up and in a flash rips his compression shirt off of his body in a well practiced motion. His feathers scatter away when he tugs the fabric over his wings and then resettle where they were after. His chest and abdomen are well sculpted from his years spent training. He's strong, but it's streamlined. He's smaller in the shoulders than Dabi is, but considering he's also a little bit shorter than the other that's to be expected. There's a bruise blooming on his right side from a fight he was in earlier in the day. He hadn't paid much attention to it at the time and even now he doesn't really care about it. Nothing's broken so there's no issue. Pain is a good reminder to be better.
He leans back down and kisses Dabi again just as hungry and devouring. He's not asking for permission either. Dabi can stop him if he wants to as he shifts his hips back just a bit and rocks down overtop of the others cock. He groans and then another sound much more bird-like works it's way from him as he does it again. He slides his hands up beneath the others coat intending to try and get him out of it. To get to the skin, the heat, he knows lies beneath what he's wearing. He wants to bask in it. The warmth, much hotter than anyone else he's been this close to. Addictive. Perfect.]
Dabi...F-fuck. Fuck, more. Off. [He shivers and grinds against him for a moment before returning to try and get them naked. To taste him everywhere. To feel his hands all over his own skin. Everything. Anything. All of it.]
no subject
Date: 2/10/26 17:06 (UTC)Last time ya bitched about the mess. [called it a "dump" when he brought hawks into the old building and tossed him down on the mattress carelessly chucked earlier onto the floor. beer cans, chip bags, trash. nothing like this spick and span empty apartment the hero calls "home" like a balm. his lips flush to his partner's, debating the urge to sink his teeth through his lower lip and leave hawks with a mark impossible to cover up. a possibility they might come to in the future. he tilts his head to the side, uses his hand to pull hawks' the opposite direction. jaws fit together better, teeth click amid a messy grunt, and he curls his tongue inside hawks' mouth to tangle with the slick muscle nestled inside. feels good, right? the rest of the world vanishing.
oof. his back hits the ground, bony shoulder blades jutting into his coat fabric. the thin white shirt beneath doesn't do anything for cushioning and he wriggles his shoulders once, twice, so he's not butting bone to wood so hard. tch, he was comfortable on his side too. he tents his knee behind hawks' rump, joint popping slightly, and butts it up against his thigh while trapping a wing between both points.
and gone. spit stretches between their lips for a second before snapping and he drops his head to the floor, eyes half-lidded and watching as hawks pulls his shirt free from his body. bared and heaving above him. explodes his wings in the process before putting them back together. slowly wandering his gaze down over the sculpture of his torso, from shoulders to narrow hips, lines made and built for speed and strength. lucky bastard. probably got born with those good genes and the heroes pounced on them like any weapon purveyor.
the second hawks returns, he captures his hair again, fists feathery locks in his own hand, and shoves his tongue in hard once more. messy makes it fun. they're not here for chaste bullshit. hips to hips, grinding together in a lazy back and forth with more need on the way. a hand works under his coat and he shrugs his shoulders, arches his back, letting the man push the black material off his body. at least down to his biceps since he's not gonna help with his arm. they're busy fisting his hair and wandering back to grab a handful of feathers at the base of hawks' wings.]
Ya really getting desperate up there, pretty bird...
no subject
Date: 2/11/26 00:33 (UTC)Last time there was a serious risk of tetanus and it took me almost two hours to clean the cigarette butts and trash out of my feathers. And that was after I scattered as many as I could. It would have been better to just fuck in the damn woods.
[When Dabi leans back to watch him take his shirt off he finds himself preening a bit. He loves the other mans eyes. The way they follow him as he moves. They see so much, sometimes more than Hawks wants him to see, but they're entrancing. It's addictive.
Dabi is a drug and Hawks is a junkie seeking another hit. Addiction is in his blood, he should be aware of it, but he doesn't care. He likes that the other finds him attractive. Though it's ironic how attractive he actually is considering he's pretty much gutter trash. Dabi's the one with the breeding and the genes between the two of them. Not that Hawks knows that. He just knows that he finds the other man attractive in a way he doesn't usually pay attention to and his hands seem to have a knack for finding all his little weak spots.
He feels the other shift beneath him. He knows if Dabi doesn't like the position they're in he can and will change it. The other isn't afraid to throw him around and Hawks likes that about him too.
He gets annoyed when Dabi refuses to cooperate in the removal of his coat. One of the older mans hands is back in his hair pulling just right. The other is sliding along his bare skin and around his side, up his back, and to the base of his wing. The sound he lets out is more avian than human and his entire body tenses for a moment before he nearly melts atop the other as a full body shudder runs through him. His wings rustle; the feathers shiver and spread a bit to the sides giving the other more room to touch.
Tease [He's panting and there's a sheen of sweat collecting on his temples and along his shoulders. Dabi is hot. Literally and figuratively and it's making the temperature in the space around them rise. He likes it, it's oddly comforting as they continue to trade hungry and biting kisses. And then that bastard goes and tells him he's a pretty bird even as he's calling him desperate. The biting reply he prepares is cut off by another sound that works its way free as his eyes lull back into his head for a moment and his whole body tenses again. It's not an orgasm, but it is a thrill of pleasure that runs from head to toe. Hearing it said is so much different than reading it on a screen. The hand on his back grips tighter and another shiver rushes through him.]
Never should have fuck let you know about that...
no subject
Date: 2/12/26 18:58 (UTC)[he hates his eyes. every time he looks into the mirror, that monster stares back at him. full of hatred and disgust at having created something so useless. even worse was the disappointment. always there, always present. no matter what reflective surface he sees, there they are. he had thought to burn them out once...
not really on his mind right now. hawks is taking up the majority of his gray matter. kneeling over him like this, shedding his shirt and baring the defines of his torso and shoulders. healthy cuts and well-fed mounds made for speed and strength. even if it was forced, he was a man well-kept by his handlers. made sleek and able for his job, with a pretty face and nice eyes to capture any wavering trust. every inch of him entrapment for those idiots slobbering over his results and profile. wonder how they'd feel if he let his face a molten mess of scar tissue.
nah, he's not helping. barely moves his shoulders and spine to let hawks push the coat off the broad bones and down his arms to the elbows, where black bunches around stitches and metal cuffs and catches on his elbows. his hands are busy; hawks should've thought about that before. digging into his hair and pulling his head one way or another as he claims his mouth with his teeth and tongue. a lazy breath seeps from his lips when hawks responds to his wing getting grabbed. always does. must not let others fondle those treasures... oof, he flops back on the ground, plastered under a melted bird sprawling over him. bet these are annoying to sleep with.]
You like it. [teasing him. he curls his fingers around the wing joint, almost fisting connective tissue and bone, before pushing upward. deliberately drags small feathers and larger with his hand, flattening them momentarily along hawks' wing limb. so tempting to pull back and really ruffle those red down. felt that, huh. the way hawks practically dry orgasms over a few stupid words and some mouth play. he abandons the blonde's wing and predatory strikes down, cupping the hero's dick through his pants. squeezing and groping in a rude, taunting motion.] Didja just cum over some sweet talk? That's kinda cute.
no subject
Date: 2/12/26 19:57 (UTC)Besides. I thought you liked me a little bloody. Or is that only when you cause it?
[The sounds Hawks is making are something he will hate himself for later, but right now he feels to good to care. Touch starved and desperate for the others hands on him he’s happily allowing Dabi to prod him in places he doesn’t let others touch. It’s stupid and he shouldn’t be letting it happen. Maybe one day he’ll care enough to stop it.
Sleeping with the wings is easier than you’d think. Probably a lot easier than sleeping with staples everywhere.
When Dabi’s hand traces the delicate bones up his wing and then comes back down along his feathers he makes a clicking sound in his chest again. But then the hand in his wing is gripping his cock through his pants and he tenses as a screech escapes. He winces. That was louder than he’d expected.]
No I did—Fucking fuck, Dabs…gentle with the merchandise.
[Except they both know he likes it rough and this is nothing compared to what the other can do. He knows Dabi can feel his cock twitching where he’s gripping him.]
Okay. Enough of this…
[He leans down and presses close not caring if he is trapping that hand against his cock. It’s just for a minute. He uses his wings to help himself gain enough leverage to stand and pull Dabi upright with him. With both of them standing it’s a lot easier to start attacking clothes and getting them both properly naked.]
Wanna see if we can break the orgasm record from last time?
no subject
Date: 2/14/26 04:19 (UTC)Dunno. You'll have to come see me after ya get knocked around. [he'll be the one keeping those noises to himself in his mind, maybe play them around his head later when he's thinking back on their time together. hawks can embarrass himself over them another time; he'll enjoy the idea of this man flustering because he got sounds dragged unbidden from his throat. if hawks cared enough to stop this, they wouldn't even be on the floor in the first place.
as long as he's not sleeping under scratchy blankets atop ratty mattresses that catch on his staples and tug them at night, he's fine. not that he cares if he wakes up and finds one or two pulled free. another gift from that monster.
can't stop the way his lips hook in a small grin at the high-pitched sound escaping the man's mouth. for a man with wings, he's got more avian traits than he wants to admit. he tightens his grip, squeezing him harder through the tan of his flight pants and the dark material clinging to his hips beneath.]
Ya don't want gentle. [and crawls his hand down further, actively ignoring hawks' dick and going instead for his balls. cupping the pair in his fingers and palm until the heel's digging into his balls and fingertips are pressing hard at his perineum for a few deliberate hard rubs.] Feel that? You're already twitchin like crazy right here...
[both eyes widen slightly, piqued surprise, when hawks suddenly flops atop him and abruptly hauls himself (and him) up onto his feet. using his wings like a damn gust to send them rocking. a rush of blood swarms his head, he has to lock his knees and brace his feet slightly so there's no stumbling.] Oy, ya want me to get motion sick?
[griping like he's somehow been unfairly punished. but at least he'll be nice enough and let hawks start divesting him of his clothes. his coat hits the ground in a fluttering crash of leather, threads, and metal cuffs.] How many or how fast?
no subject
Date: 2/14/26 04:32 (UTC)He is indeed twitching like crazy when Dabi's hand slips from his cock to palming his balls and lower. His body clenches down tightly on nothing and he feels the ache of being empty a bit keener.
When they're upright and Dabi sways while complaining, Hawks leans up and kisses the side of his mouth]
M' sorry, floor wasn't cutting it. And before you say it, yes, I know it was my fault, but to be fair you started it.
[His hands tug and work Dabi's coat off of him before attacking the others shirt. He's not as rough as he could be, as excited as he is making Dabi bleed all over he place would kind of defeat the purpose. He doesn't want to pull too many staples out if he can avoid it.
When the dark haired man asks him how many or how fast Hawks just gives him a wicked sort of grin]
Yes.
[He drops his own pants leaving him in just the lower portion of his compression suit and reaches out to grip Dabi's belt to start working it off if he's allowed to.]
no subject
Date: 2/14/26 23:45 (UTC)not as happy when he's hauled to his feet and his eyes threaten to roll around in his damn head. a little warning would be nice next time. hawks is being as careless with his motion sensitivity as the damn lizard handling the truck. does he want him to collapse on his feet in front of him? ... mean. he turns his head to the side a bit when hawks leans up and starts pecking at the corner. grumpy and maybe pouting. what's he look like, a ten year old?]
I didn't start anythin. [he was content to lie on the ground like a rug and fuck down there in the dirt. or lack of dirt. for someone who doesn't spend much time here, the place is clean. he refuses to lift his arms this time, hawks has to pull his shirt up and over his head, then off his arms, if he wants to get the threadbare white thing out of his sight. don't rip it. he went dumpster diving for that. figures the hero'd be careful. doesn't wanna tug a staple and get blood all over his nice floor and couch.
he shakes the shirt free of his hand, not caring where it lands. baring his ruined, rotting body all worn down from living on the streets. lanky and wire taut, a notable difference between himself and hawks. the hero's healthy sleek. he's the opposite.]
Ya havin way too much fun with this. [but he lifts his hands and arms in mock surrender, letting hawks attack his belt and work the thick buckle open. they're the main hold on his hips, so once loose, his pants quickly take a one-way plummet around his boots. least he's got a worn part of boxer briefs this time. mostly he goes commando like a reject.] Surprised ya legs aren't fallin asleep with how tight those are.
no subject
Date: 2/15/26 00:09 (UTC)He also doesn't get to have wild, crazy, sex like other people get to have. He doesn't get to have relationships with people. That means attachments and weak points that can be exploited. The nameless bodies he's been with before were nothing like this. They didn't mean anything to him, nor he to them. They didn't want to take him apart and leave him a pile of shuddering ashes and feathers with a head as empty as the rest of him. Having the noise inside your head turned off is a rush, and as we've established, Hawks is a junkie for the drug that is Dabi.]
I really am sorry, I forgot you get motion sick. I'd ask if you're okay but you'd probably light me on fire and well, that's not as fun as what we were doing.
[Yeah, he's rambling. Sue him. He manages to get the others shirt off even though Dabi is no help at all. He takes a moment to take him in. The staples glint in the dim light and his eyes widen a bit, gaze narrowed in on them for a second before the others voice pulls him out of it. He smiles as he works the others belt off and watches them his pants fall to the floor. Maybe he should get the other man some better clothes. He can afford it after all.
But he's not overly sure Dabi would like to have him as a sugar daddy...besides, getting gifts for one another isn't something fuck buddies do. Right?]
They make my ass look amazing. [And they do, he kneels down to fight with the others shoes and pants and while he's down there he might lean in and press his face to the front of he others boxer briefs. Dabi did say he had something better for his mouth to do, didn't he?
He manages to somehow get the other man free of his remaining clothes with little to no help from him and then he's tugging his underpants down revealing his rather perfect cock. At least in Hawks opinion. It's perfect for him. Hits all the right places, and it's got shiny adornments decorating it that he really enjoys tasting. He grips him gently and looks up, golden eyes locking with turquoise, then drags his tongue up the length from base to tip making sure to hit every rung on the ladder pierced there.]
no subject
Date: 2/15/26 21:16 (UTC)Ya runnin your mouth too much. [really starting to sound like some damn schoolgirl with a flustered crush. his hair springs back into spiky place once his shirt clears his head, not even bothering to shake his skull and "fix" some of the kinda-mussed spines. it's been a long time since he felt anything self-conscious about his body. that trait died years ago. hawks eyes wander across his flesh and scars, wiry lines and slight malnourished edges. wouldn't have mattered if he were completely naked in front of him. it's the goal after all.
with his pants down, he knocks a foot back and starts toeing the hell of his boot, pinning it to the floor so he can drag his leg out. at least until hawks goes down to help his efforts. between a hand on his boot and shin, a brief tug and it jerks free, getting his pants leg caught around his foot. he doesn't miss a beat dragging the material inside out as he steps down barefoot on the floor and lets the hero work the other one out. while mashing his face into his groin. desperate enough to earn a lazy grin on his lips.] Most people ain't gonna see 'em though.
[hawks always wears those brown coveralls. one or two shaky kicks shuck his pants off completely, leaving him in just the pair of boxer briefs that look newer than everything else. stole those recently. they slide down easily, revealing an infuriatingly still limp dick. (totally did that on purpose just to ruffles hawks' feathers. took some intense willpower to keep it down though.) at least his conflagration and recovery managed to keep his hips relatively intact, sparing his dick and ass from the same lavender state. the four-rung frenum ladder is still warm from being tucked against his balls the past several minutes, rippling under hawks' tongue. and quickly starts swelling because he's not trying to stop it. jerk.] Betcha a lotta people've seen this...
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Date: 2/15/26 22:09 (UTC)As the other is undressed Hawks finds his eyes traveling to the spaces held together by staples. The glinting silver steals his focus for small intervals of time but he also takes time to simply observe the other. His burns look painful but as far as he understands Dabi doesn't have much feeling in the scars, which he supposes is a blessing in some cases. Idly, he's wondered if there's a way to actually help the other man not have to deal with this sort of shit. Surely there's someone who can help him that doesn't care if he's a psychotic, murderous, raving, lunatic. Right?
Where Dabi is a patchwork of pain and survival, Hawks' body is covered in fine, barely noticeable scars. One wouldn't see many of them unless they were looking for them. Miles of tanned and toned flesh on display along with the crimson feathers sprouting from his back. He knows he's hot. He's not afraid to show it. And, as far as his own clothing is concerned. He wears what he's told to wear, so if you have complaints about his attire forward them to the HPSC. They'll file them in the proper folders.
His cock is a bit shorter in length than Dabi's but nearly as thick around. No piercings, uncut, and currently hard as stone. His shaft twitches a bit and a bead of precome gathers at the rosy tip as he kneels there with arousal as things get hotter between them. Dabi messing with his wings earlier still has pleasure thrumming in his veins.
Hawks isn't put off by the limp cock in front of him. Not the first time it's happened and won't be the last he's sure. He wagers it's more for control, and less because he's not into it. Dabi seems like the type to want to be in control of as much as he possibly can; and Hawks knows he likes to ruffle his feathers. Literally and figuratively.
When the other man stares down at him while the blonde teases his cock to hardness and comments about a lot of people seeing him like this; he smirks.]
Is that a little jealousy I hear there, hot stuff? [He lets his mouth seal around the top piercing of the ladder and worries it with his tongue before letting it go.]
Don't worry, you're my favorite. [And then he's leaning up and taking that growing length into his mouth as deep as he can in a steady and slow pace. He doesn't have much of a gag reflex, but he can't rush it, not at first. Plus, he does actually want to enjoy himself if being allowed to have this.]
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Date: 2/17/26 07:34 (UTC)no accounting for bad taste, huh. he isn't still in his own wandering. aqua eyes picking from one fine razor cut after another. hadn't noticed them at first, but he's seen this man close up a few times now. slightly lighter than the rest of his skin, as if some bird's walked all over his body and scratched him a million times. probably due to his own feathers as he learned to control them. or those bastards in the hero center wanting to see what their little pet could put up with. couldn't let their prize weapon crumple over bit of pain.
kneeling in front of him, hard and wanting, ready to take whatever he gives him. two fingers twitch at his side, eyes lidding every so slightly. could turn his hand and torch him right now, burn him to ash. probably too distracted to react... nah, hawks is already oozing between his thighs. he's not so impatient to rob himself a good fuck.]
Whatcha gonna do if I said yes? [mild droning as a taunt. bony fingers press their tips into hawks' hair at the hairline, smoothing backwards and combing those unruly bangs towards his crown. a low breath ghosts across his lower lip as the man begins lapping at him a few more times before closing his lips around the piercing closest to his tip. precum wells without permission and drips down onto his shaft. a lazy glassy slide breaking over the hero's upper lip.]
Careful. Ya gonna make me feel special. [he tightens his hand in the man's hair as soon as he leans in and pulls, dragging hawks' open mouth over his shaft. wet smears across his palate, shoves his tongue down into his lower jaw, he fills his mouth without care. one piercing clicks over his lower teeth after the other, demarcating the depths with each jolt tugging at his dick's skin. doesn't matter if hawks doesn't wanna rush it.
he gets to the back of his mouth... and abruptly snaps his hips forward, shoving right down his throat.] C'mon, didn't ya want it?
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From:It's like watching to trains on fire collide...
From:this is his life goal after all. crash it to the man and take everyone down with him!
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