Hawks & Dabi
The life Hour built in the past six months felt like a dream. Moving into a spacious, modern apartment in Musutafu with her boyfriend Hawks, the #2 Pro Hero, was the cherry on top of a perfect new chapter, their relationship still in that giddy, honeymoon phase.
Then the dream fractured. A knock on the door, and there he was. Dabi, her ex. A year of silence after a messy breakup, looking like he’d been dragged through hell and back. His villainous career had imploded along with the League of Villains, leaving him with nothing but a claim that he just needed a place to crash. “Just for now,” he'd drawled, and against her better judgment, and Hawks’ very visible displeasure, Hour’d agreed. But ‘just for now’ had bled into three excruciating months. Now, the air in their apartment was so thick with unspoken history and territorial pissing matches it felt like it could choke you.
Tonight was supposed to be theirs - Hawks had a rare evening off, no emergencies, no paperwork. The plan was simple: a bowl of popcorn, some wine, and mindless scrolling through Netflix until they found something so bad it was good. “Alright, movie night. Just us,” Hawks had declared, his voice a low, happy rumble as he pulled Hour onto the sofa, his wing draping over her like a crimson blanket. “No drama, just you, me, and eight hours of mindless binge-watching.”
He was just about to press play on the remote, other hand tracing lazy circles on her thigh, when the floorboards by the hallway creaked. Dabi emerged and plopped down on the other side of Hour without an invitation. The cushions dipped under his weight as he slouched down, throwing legs onto the coffee table with a thud that rattled the wine glasses. The scent of ash and something vaguely metallic clung to him, a stark contrast to Hawks' clean, breezy scent.
“Don’t mind me. This show any good? Or are you two just gonna make out through the whole thing?” Dabi’s voice was a lazy, gravelly drawl, cutting through their cozy bubble, heavy-lidded eyes fixed on the paused screen in perpetual boredom.
“Dabi, for fuck's sake. Not now.” Hawks turned his head to look at him, gesturing vaguely with a sharp, dismissive flick of the wrist. “Can't you find a dark corner to brood in? We're kind of in the middle of something here. Something that doesn't involve you third-wheeling.” The insult was casual, almost lazy, a testament to how easily the words came to him when Dabi was around.
Dabi let out a low, raspy chuckle, the sound grating on the nerves. His gaze flicked from the TV to Hawks, then slowly, deliberately, to Hour who was sandwitched between them. “Don't be such a possessive prick, bird-brain. We're all just one big, happy family here, aren't we?” He emphasized the word 'family' with a sneer, clearly enjoying the way he’d just doused their romantic evening in gasoline.
The air grew thick and suffocating, with Hour trapped between a soft, warm weight of Hawks on one side and the searing, unwelcome heat of Dabi on the other.
Then the dream fractured. A knock on the door, and there he was. Dabi, her ex. A year of silence after a messy breakup, looking like he’d been dragged through hell and back. His villainous career had imploded along with the League of Villains, leaving him with nothing but a claim that he just needed a place to crash. “Just for now,” he'd drawled, and against her better judgment, and Hawks’ very visible displeasure, Hour’d agreed. But ‘just for now’ had bled into three excruciating months. Now, the air in their apartment was so thick with unspoken history and territorial pissing matches it felt like it could choke you.
Tonight was supposed to be theirs - Hawks had a rare evening off, no emergencies, no paperwork. The plan was simple: a bowl of popcorn, some wine, and mindless scrolling through Netflix until they found something so bad it was good. “Alright, movie night. Just us,” Hawks had declared, his voice a low, happy rumble as he pulled Hour onto the sofa, his wing draping over her like a crimson blanket. “No drama, just you, me, and eight hours of mindless binge-watching.”
He was just about to press play on the remote, other hand tracing lazy circles on her thigh, when the floorboards by the hallway creaked. Dabi emerged and plopped down on the other side of Hour without an invitation. The cushions dipped under his weight as he slouched down, throwing legs onto the coffee table with a thud that rattled the wine glasses. The scent of ash and something vaguely metallic clung to him, a stark contrast to Hawks' clean, breezy scent.
“Don’t mind me. This show any good? Or are you two just gonna make out through the whole thing?” Dabi’s voice was a lazy, gravelly drawl, cutting through their cozy bubble, heavy-lidded eyes fixed on the paused screen in perpetual boredom.
“Dabi, for fuck's sake. Not now.” Hawks turned his head to look at him, gesturing vaguely with a sharp, dismissive flick of the wrist. “Can't you find a dark corner to brood in? We're kind of in the middle of something here. Something that doesn't involve you third-wheeling.” The insult was casual, almost lazy, a testament to how easily the words came to him when Dabi was around.
Dabi let out a low, raspy chuckle, the sound grating on the nerves. His gaze flicked from the TV to Hawks, then slowly, deliberately, to Hour who was sandwitched between them. “Don't be such a possessive prick, bird-brain. We're all just one big, happy family here, aren't we?” He emphasized the word 'family' with a sneer, clearly enjoying the way he’d just doused their romantic evening in gasoline.
The air grew thick and suffocating, with Hour trapped between a soft, warm weight of Hawks on one side and the searing, unwelcome heat of Dabi on the other.
3461
