Chapter Text
Trouble in paradise only refers to issues that arise in a situation that had once been considered “idyllic”.
In Dabi’s opinion, what he and Hawks have is far from that, so why is it that when Toga questions what’s got him beat, mentions the idiom, “Trouble in paradise?”, he can’t help but nod in agreement?
His unset relationship with Hawks is no secret. Everyone in the League is so tired of the two of them that they frankly don’t care anymore. In Shigaraki’s words, it’s none of our business , though he continues to discourage Dabi when it comes to unfurling in the hero’s embrace.
And of course, Dabi knows that what they have isn’t what one would call “true love” or whatever bullshit people call it. He doesn’t trust the hero any more than he does in return. Hook-ups and such are only to extract information, not because they harbour any feelings for each other. Gross.
“What is it this time?” Toga drawls, squinting her eyes as she paints her fingers. “D’he blow you off again?”
Dabi scrolls through the news on his phone, barely reading the headlines. He’s just wasting time.
“You’re making me sound like a pathetic sap .” He grumbles.
She giggles. “You’re the one loafing around, wallowing in self-pity, not me.”
He spares her a glare. She returns to painting her nails.
“Chill out. I’m sure it’s not the end of the world because Bae decided work was more important than you.”
Before Dabi can retort, his phone vibrates. The call-screen pops up and Toga glances over, eyebrows raising. “Look at that.”
He exhales through his nose and accepts, bringing the phone to his ear.
“Hellooo . Did’ya miss me or did’ya miss me ?”
“The hell do you want?”
Hawks perches himself on a nearby billboard, wings making his landing easier as he waves down at a few fans who've spotted him. He laughs into the phone speaker.
“What’s got you all cranky?”
“Dunno. Maybe it’s the fact you made me wait for two hours last night .”
He settles on the edge, legs swinging back. “Aw, does my presence mean that much to you?”
“Fuck off.” Dabi narrows his eyes.
“Only if you watch .”
“I’m three seconds away from hanging up on you, I swear to—”
“Okay, okay . What are you doing right now ?”
Dabi looks over at Toga, who’s wiggling her eyebrows at him and grinning mischievously. He rolls his eyes.
“Wallowing in self-pity, as I’ve been told apparently.”
She laughs. Hawks does too on the other end.
“Toga ?”
“Who else.” He sighs.
“Don’t take it to heart . Look , I’m off work now . Let’s meet .”
Dabi stands up, starting towards the door. “Yeah? What makes you think I’m gonna show up just because you’re asking?”
“Ew. Don’t accidentally crawl into one other’s skin!” Toga calls after him.
“ Because I’m asking ?”
“Hm.” He pulls the phone from his ear, thinking for a moment. “You have ten minutes and then I’m leaving.”
“Wait , where am I supposed to —”
Dabi hangs up, a self-satisfied smirk turning up his lips.
Let him chase. That’s all there was to their relationship, after all.
<:>
“You . . . ah . . . stupid jerk.” Hawks stumbles into the alleyway, hands to his knees as he catches his breath. “Can’t . . . even fly in these . . . narrow back alleys.”
Dabi smiles contemptuously, flicking the end of his cigarette. “You’re two minutes late.”
“Shut up.”
“I thought you were made for speed.” He taunts, pushing off the wall and pacing towards the gasping hero. “Is disappointment all you bring to the table, Hawks?”
“At least I bring something .” He wipes the sweat dripping down his forehead with the back of his hand.
His gaze is locked on the villain as he comes to a halt before him, watches as he leans down slightly . . . and blows a mouthful of smoke in his face. Hawks turns away, coughing as he bats away the tainted air.
“Hey! What gives?”
“That was for yesterday.” Dabi hums. “I don’t wait around like a servant for anyone , hero.”
Hawks narrows his eyes at him, the lazy grin on his face a source of irritation. Where the hell did he get off acting so discourteous? But . . . then again, it is Dabi of all people.
“Yeah, yeah, and I guess I’m sorry for making you wait.” He relents, following as Dabi begins walking out of the alleyway. “Villains don’t exactly work on a schedule.”
At that statement, the villain raises his eyebrows. Hawks puts his hands up placatively.
“Most of you, anyway.”
“Mm.” He takes one last puff of the smouldering cigarette and drops it, crushing the lit end under his boot. “Only the clever of us actually have real plans.”
“Basically.” Hawks agrees. “Hey, you consider yourself a smart villain. What’s the first thing you do when starting life as one?”
“Staying away from heroes.” He spares the hero a glance, turquoise eyes glinting. “Certainly from ones as flashy as you .”
“Oh-ho.” He muses, bumping shoulders with the latter. “Not doing so great with that, huh?”
Dabi leans away. “That’s because you’re useful to me.”
“Yeah?” Hawks smirks. “Sweet-talk me some more.”
“I’ll pass .”
Right at the edge of the alleyway, the hero pulls on Dabi’s arm, forcing him to face him. He throws his arms around the villain’s shoulders and leans close, barely leaving any room between their noses.
Peering up at him through long eyelashes, Hawks grins. Dabi’s expression is as contradictingly flat.
“C’mon ,” he croons in a low voice, “always playing hard to get with you.”
He leans closer. Nearly the touch of their lips.
“. . . Not,” Dabi’s eyes close slightly, “not here.”
“Ah.” Hawks smirks, pulling away at the very last second. “If you insist.”
The villain’s eyebrow twitches as the hero’s eyes sparkle. “What? You made a request and I’m following through with it.
A beat. He grins. “My place?”
Dabi sighs, continuing to walk. “Where else, dumbass?”
He stares after the villain for a moment, then skips forward to match pace. Their shoulders bump again and he chuckles.
“You’re so uptight all the time. ‘s there a stick up your ass 24-7?”
“You of all people don’t get to ask me that.”
They turn the corner. As Hawks is in mid-chuckle, Dabi spots something moving on the other end of the block, which is odd because considering the time of night, there shouldn’t be any civilians out.
He nudges the hero, a gesture to get him to be alert. They progress to the edge of the building.
“What?”
“Didn’t you see that?” Dabi mutters quietly, eyeing the darkness warily. The street lights don’t appear to be doing their job.
“No, I saw it,” he hums, fluffing up his wings, “seemed to be a normal passerby.”
Dabi doesn’t think so.
“Be on your guard.”
Hawks observes the cautious villain. Distrustful he may be, perhaps a bit too much, but he’s not entirely wrong. There were all sorts of characters out at this time of night.
He looks back out to the street. “. . . Sure.”
As they near the edge of the block, Dabi is first to glance around the corner— only to spot the same figure right there .
Open palm facing the pair of them, a villainous smirk on their face.
Hawks gapes and Dabi stares at the individual in shock, taking in his form as briefly as possible.
“What in the fucking Lock Ness monster—”
“Have a fun time, scum .” The villain (?) hisses, just as a purple glow emits from his open palm. Dabi grabs Hawks, attempting to shove him away, but he’s too slow. They both get caught in the beam, a tingling sensation arising on both their skins.
For Dabi, he suddenly can’t breathe. Why can’t he breathe? He assumes Hawks is feeling the same because he hears a choke somewhere in the bright light that blinds them both.
Suddenly, the world tilts. His vision fades away.
And Dabi passes out.
<:>
Snug in blankets of unrestricting velvety fabric, and the wisp of soft silk sheets, cool yet inviting, as if woven from moonlight itself brushes against skin, providing a cocoon of warmth that rivals even a normal spring day.
The faint scent of ambery vanilla and a hint of fruitiness— raspberry , maybe ?— hangs in the air, mingling with the sunlight that spills through half-drawn curtains.
For a moment, Dabi hasn’t a clue if he’s awake or still dreaming, but it doesn’t matter if it’s all the same. Frankly, he’d rather push the world aside to enjoy just a few more minutes of this warmth. It’s something he hasn’t experienced in a long, long time.
And then, ever so subtly, he feels it. The feather of fingertips sliding across his stomach, brushing against a sliver of uncovered skin. A hand rests gently over his abdomen.
He stirs, turns around, and absently throws his arm over the person beside him.
Huh . He wonders. When did the hero change his shampoo? Of course, he’s not complaining, though it has a more feminine scent to it.
His form also feels . . . smaller. More petite.
But what serves as the absolute deal breaker in this situation is the low giggle that comes from the person in his arms— and it’s by far the most womanlike thing he’s ever heard.
Dabi’s eyes snap open and he takes a moment to adjust to his surroundings, gaze falling to whoever it is beside him.
The sight wipes away any post-wake exhaustion. He scrambles back, not realizing that he’s on the edge of the bed, and falls off.
He gapes at the lady who rises after he crashes onto the floor, rubbing a sleepy eye and angling her wings out of the way. The realization hits her too because she pauses, staring back at him stunned.
“Holy fuck— you’re a woman !” He blurts.
Sure enough, a female version of Hawks is sitting on the bed. Shoulder-length blonde hair tousled from sleep, red feathers littering places on the king-sized mattress, clad in nothing but a flimsy carmine tanktop and underwear— because apparently wearing pants to sleep is illegal or something— stretches the hero.
Dabi doesn’t even know where to begin.
She yawns, her reaction to this whole thing a lot tamer than expected. Then, she casts a glance at him before sliding off the bed.
“Name?”
Dabi gapes. “. . . What ?”
She walks by him, to a door that’s most likely the washroom. “Your name, babe. Unless you want me to call you by something of my choice.”
He squints his eyes. Is this really . . . ?
“Dabi—”
“Not that one, hot stuff.” She hums, leaning over the sink and giving Dabi a clear view of her— oookay, he should look away now .
Wait, not . . . not which one ?
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“You do.” She answers. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, son of our notoriously stuck-up Number One.”
Dabi’s thoughts halt. His sharp gaze connects with the hero, who is now smiling knowingly at him. Her eyes narrow as she raises her chin. Oh yeah, definitely Hawks. Except this version of him seems to know who Dabi really is.
“Who told you that.” He says skeptically.
“ Haaa . . .” She exaggerates a stretch and turns the tap on. “Let’s save the serious talk for breakfast. Stay, won’t you? I’ll treat you well.”
Dabi has a feeling he doesn’t have a choice at all in this matter.
“So?” She turns to him, eyes sparkling. “Your name?”
He decides to relent. No point in denying it if she already knows, and he still has no clue what’s going on, either. Maybe he should just play along, up until he’s got a decent grasp of the situation.
And so, with a final inhale, he mutters a name so foreign on his tongue that it sounds like some sort of code.
“. . . Touya .”
<:>
Contrary to Dabi’s fairytale-like rise from sleep, Hawks unfortunately does not experience the same.
He opens his eyes to an aching pain in his neck . . . and his butt. Only after regaining his surroundings does he realize that he’s sitting on the ground of some sort of abandoned warehouse, handcuffed to a water pipe.
The cuffs are cold against his wrists, meaning he had just recently been put there. Groaning quietly, he shifts from his awkward position to try and level out the pressure on his tailbone.
Pain pangs through the area, not to mention the strain that begins to throb in his arms. How much longer does he have to stay like—
Footsteps echo from somewhere in the warehouse and Hawks perks up. Well, apparently not much longer. He turns, trying to see who it is, but the water pipe being right behind him doesn’t help much. Instead, he settles in defeat.
He wonders what happened to Dabi. That scaly villain did get him too, didn’t he?
The footsteps start to become clearer, and who Hawks initially assumes is a male seems to be a female, based on the echoing sound of heels.
Jesus, what woman did he piss off this time?
If there was anything he wholeheartedly believed in after one wrong interaction, it’s that women are freaking scary . He’s avoided getting on any nerves since.
There’s purpose in this lady’s walk, a reason to be there. The hero’s slightly worried that maybe . . . maybe he did piss someone off.
Finally, she enters his view and rounds the side, situating herself right in front of Hawks. He peers up timidly, though it’s more an act so he can pinpoint what she wants from him.
Face hidden behind a large hood, hands in her pockets, and clad in black-heeled boots (he was right) , she stares down at him.
The silence is starting to get awkward.
Hawks clears his throat, feigning a wobbly smile. “. . . Hi.”
Hi .
He said hi to a woman who probably wants to kill him. Yeah, great going.
He detaches a feather inconspicuously and sends it behind the water pipe, hiding it from view. He continues talking as a distraction.
“Look, lady, I’m all for being tied up, but I don’t exactly know you.” He shifts, rear-end going numb. “Mind giving me your name? Or maybe . . . y’know, a look at your face?”
His message is not well received.
She takes three steps towards him and places the sole of her boot against his crotch. Hawks goes stiff, suddenly very worried.
When she begins putting pressure, he scrambles for a diversion. His feather .
“Wait, wait! I’m sorry— I ramble when I’m in a pickle.” Which wasn’t entirely a lie.
He frowns. “Please . . . don’t hurt me? Let’s talk this out.”
. . . Does he seem pathetic enough ?
He hopes so— sneaking past a fiery red feather isn’t as easy of a task. His initial goal is to take down her hood to see if he can recognize her, but somewhere when even he’s not paying attention, it comes soaring towards her head.
In an instant, the feather ceases to exist, extinguished by a . . . blue flame ? Hawks, however, doesn’t get to make any more comments because the foot on his crotch presses harder .
“H-Hey! Ow— okay, okay! My bad, I didn’t—” In a panic, he sends forward a flurry of feathers. He doesn’t care, he just needs to get the foot off his family jewels.
Each feather of his is either burned or lost somewhere, considering his aim isn’t specific to a certain area. He certainly doesn’t want to kill her either— that would be overkill. Literally.
What he doesn’t realize until a few moments later is the fact that one of those feathers actually pulled the hood down. He just happened to look at the right time to see long, tar-black hair falling out like wavelets, unrestricted by the hood.
Hawks’ eyes go wide.
Now, correct him if he’s wrong, but burned skin stapled together and black spiky hair and piercing turquoise eyes belong only to one person he knows—
and he’s not a girl.
At least, as far as Hawks has confirmed.
“. . . Dabi —?!”
She stares down at him coldly, foot still pressed to his crotch. At least she’s stopped putting pressure on it. Her eyes narrow.
“Don’t know who that is.”
“I know it’s you.” Is this a test, maybe?
She cocks an eyebrow. Adds force to her foot to intimidate.
“Ah— wait, I’m—” She pulls her shoe back and leans forward, taking hold of his face in a hand. Hawks doesn’t know what even to think right now. He’s still hung up on the fact that this is Dabi .
She observes him, dull gaze scanning his features. After a moment, she pulls away and shoves her hands in her pockets.
Yeah, definitely Dabi.
He startles when something shiny comes at him, landing between his legs. A . . . key. He glances back up at her, only to find her pulling her hood back up.
“Feel free to uncuff yourself,” she glances over her shoulder, a sly smirk on her face, “or don’t, you kinky bastard.”
“Kinky— me ?” He questions, baffled.
“Was I the one who said I was all for being tied up?”
Oh yeah, he did say that.
She walks by him, the faint aroma of amber and sandalwood emitting from her as she leaves the warehouse. The slamming of the heavy door echoes and Hawks lowers his gaze to the key a few inches away.
. . . Just what had the two of them gotten into?