#dbhk

Muffled voices cut his exam short. He froze, hands hovering over his neck, and strained to hear beyond the room.

“…vn know! Otherwise, I wou…”

Hawks held his breath.

“… here! Every hero in Japan wi… soon! Why can’t you just… nearest station?”

Whoever that was, nasally and scratchy, it was clear they were not happy that Hawks was here.

Wherever here was.

The second voice argued back, too low for Hawks to catch, too quick for his sluggish feathers to make sense of. But there was something teetering at the edge of his perception. Movement, rhythmic and quick - agitated.

He let out a slow breath and again tried opening his eyes. This time, the pain was just on the shy side of all consuming, bearable at least. Not that it mattered though, the room was pitch black aside from a thin band of light under the door. Okay, mystery room, mystery captives, an unknown something dulling his quirk.

Together, those things were definitely cause for concern. Yet…

The only thing Hawks felt, besides pain, was a weightless sort of calm. It was almost like he was flying.

He took a slow breath, and this time, caught something else. A faint scent – juniper berries, woodsmoke. His limbs relaxed, body sank deeper into the lumpy mattress beneath him, and he pulled the blanket closer to his nose. Bits of metal pressed against his cheek, body-heat warmed and smooth.

The voices picked up again, arguing back and forth in whispered shouts. There was a bang, hollow like a fist against drywall, and then… nothing.

Hawks took another breath of the calming scent and dug deep to reclaim control over his senses.

The door creaked open. Soft, yellow light waxed and waned in the room. And then, silence.

Hawks eyed the blurry figure in the room with him, racking his brain for any scrap of information on who it might me. Or where he was. Or what the hell had happened. He remembered his patrol, he’d set out with a plan to run into Dabi but had been overwhelmed by fans, he’d taken flight and landed in an alley, and then… then…

Everything came back in a flicker of blue.

“Dabi?” Hawks blurted, pushing through his pain to sit up, only to have a hand just shy of scorching hot push him right back down.

“Don’t move. Not yet.”

Now, panic set in.

“Where the hell am I,” Hawks snapped, struggling against the weight on his chest. “Why can’t I-“

“Stop,” Dabi commanded.

Something rapped against the walls of Hawks’ control, vying for his attention. A foreign and unwelcome urge to stop struggling. Panic wrapped around his throat, squeezed. He bucked harder against the hand holding him down.

“What the- Hawks, seriously, stop!” With one hand still on Hawks, Dabi leaned away. A lamp flickered on, dim under a black shade but still bright enough to startle.

Hawks blinked against the spots in his eyes until he could make out Dabi’s face above. He stopped struggling. Dabi looked, well, he looked like absolute hell – hair mussed, skin paler than Hawks remembered, drooping eyelids.

“You done now?” Dabi rasped, hand still a weighty reminder on Hawks’ rapidly rising and falling chest but no longer pushing.

Hawks nodded.

Dabi let out a steamy breath and shoved the blanket Hawks had been using back in his hands. “Deep breaths. I think.”

“You thi… is this your coat?” Hawks’ heart stumbled from one beat to the next.

Tearing a hand through his hair, Dabi paced the little room. “You wouldn’t let go of it, and I didn’t really have anything else to offer that was scented strongly enough,” Dabi huffed, pacing faster, stirring a current of heat. “And you were like, spiraling after that prick tried to pheromone flood you, and then I made it worse when I-“

“Slow down, please.” Hawks held a hand up. With the other, he rubbed his temple. For weeks pulling words out of Dabi had been like pulling teeth, but now it was like the dam had broken and they were rushing past faster than Hawks could follow. What the hell had changed?

Dabi stopped, hand fisting his hair.

Hawks brought the coat a little closer. “I remember the alley, and that guy… but what happened after?” It was that gap that had panicked him. The unknown passage of time that remained an empty, gnawing hole in his memory. Had the commission called while he was down? Had Dabi figured out Hawks’ mission? That was unlikely, considering he was still alive. He ran his fingers over the silver staples, chewing over Dabi’s words, until-

Oh fuck. His hand shot to his scent gland, and when he felt nothing but skin, his stomach dropped.

Dabi knew.

Hawks glanced at Dabi, who was watching him with an intensity bordering on obsessive, and tried to remind himself that this had been his mission all along: find Dabi, reveal what he was and earn the alpha’s trust. It didn’t get much more trusting than saving Hawks and bringing him back to… base? If not their base, somewhere safe at least. But Hawks hadn’t expected to be unconscious through his reveal, and he certainly hadn’t expected Dabi to find out the way he had.

“So…”

“What happened,” Dabi stepped closer, eyes on Hawks’ neck, body steaming, “is that you put yourself in the stupid ass position to be taken advantage of. What the fuck were you doing?”

“I-“

“And why” — Dabi fisted his hands — “the hell have you been masquerading as an alpha when you clearly are not?”

Hawks sealed his lips, sensing Dabi had more to say.

He was right.

“Omega are rare, Hawks, and male omega even more so.” Dabi growled, shook his head like he was trying to knock something loose, and added, “do you have any idea how freaked out I was when I found that fucking creep trying to mark you?”

Oh.

Dabi had been worried?

That was… sweet? Charming?

Unexpected. It was entirely unexpected.

Hawks had hoped, at most, to simply be cordial with Dabi by now, maybe capable of a few flirtatious hints here and there. But in the time Hawks had been unconscious, it felt like they’d gone from enemies to lovers and skipped every step in-between.

Was it because Dabi knew Hawks was an omega?

Hawks pushed himself slowly to sit. He adjusted his wings, still slow but not as unresponsive, to either side so he could lean back against the wall.

“Thank you,” he began carefully, “for saving me.” If he was going to salvage this, and get some answers, gratitude seemed like a good place to start. “I promise I’ll answer your questions, but first could you sit?”  The look Dabi shot Hawks’ way had him quickly backtracking. "Or stand. Standing’s fine too. I just want to know what happened.”

Dabi considered for a moment, still steaming but less with each passing second. “You fainted,” he finally said, “in the alley. Fucker was trying to scent you into submission.”

Hawks swallowed. He ran his fingers gently over his sensitive gland, winced at the sharp pain. “What happened to him?”

Dabi’s silence was answer enough.

“Okay, and,” Hawks gently prodded, “then you…?”

“I brought you here,” Dabi said shortly, crossing his arms and angling away. The muted thumpthumpthump of Dabi’s pulse, and its steady increase, reached Hawks’ feathers.

Skipping over whatever might have happened in between (for now), Hawks pressed, “and here is…?”

“Base.”

“Base?”

Dabi nodded.

Holy shit.

Hawks’ head swam. From struggling to keep Dabi on the same city block as him to sitting in his bed, what the hell had happened?

“I don’t understand.”

“You wanted in, didn’t you?” Dabi snapped, and then the strangest thing happened. “I’m sorry.” He sighed and finally dropped down on the foot of the bed. “There wasn’t anywhere else I could take you to… ya know.”

Hawks didn’t know. Not even close.

But he would needle away at Dabi until he did.

“You said I spiraled, before when that guy was scenting me.”

Dabi gave a single, sharp nod.

“What did you mean by that?”

“You were…” Dabi dragged a hand down his face. “Seizing. Or something.”

“Seizing!?”

“The doctor said-“

“You brought a doctor in?” Hawks groaned. “Why?”

“What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, maybe-“ Hawks mouth hung open, waiting for the rest of his argument. He snapped it shut with a click of teeth. Frustration simmered in his belly, prickly and uncomfortable.

Dabi scrunched his nose. “Could you maybe not do that?”

“Do what?” Hawks snapped.

“Your scent, it’s a little overwhelming and I can’t-“ Dabi looked at his lap. “I can’t help.”

Hawks blinked. Frustration flew out the window. “My scent?”

Dabi pulled his knee up to his chest. “Uh, yeah, it’s really fucking strong. To me, anyways. I can tell you’re… mad?”

“Frustrated.”

“Close enough.” Dabi traced the seam of his boot, and too soft for the average person to hear, muttered. “apparently, that’s normal for the first few weeks.”

But Hawks was not the average person, not now that sense had fully returned to his feathers. “What’s normal for the first few weeks?”

Dabi stiffened. His shoulders rose and fell, and without looking Hawks’ way, he said, “I didn’t have any choice.”

Hawks’ pulse pounded in his ears. “Any choice in what, Dabi?”

“I’m not like that.” Dabi dropped his hands to the edge of the bed, gripped until the mattress creaked. “I might kill people, but I’d never…”

“Never what,” Hawks pushed. “What the hell aren’t you tel-“

“We’re mated!”

Blood seeped slowly away from Hawks’ surface. Numbness crept in.

He was…

“At least that’s what the doctor said,” Dabi barreled on. “You needed help, and I can’t scent anything for shit, so it was either try a mating bite or… or let you….”

Mate. Dabi was Hawks’ mate.

What the fuck.

Reason and emotion engaged in an entirely one-sided battle. This had been his mission, of course he knew that, but some stupid part of him had thought he may at least have a say in when it would happen. Or how.

He was such a fucking fool.

Dabi continued to ramble, something about Hawks’ weak pheromones and the overdose that alpha in the alley had induced, and that fucking doctor’s suggestion that Hawks take it easy until his scent, and emotions, leveled out. But all Hawks could hear were the bars of a cage closing.

“I need air,” he cut in, throwing the covers and coat off, and again finding questions. “Where the hell are my clothes?”

The pants he was in choked his thighs and buried his feet; the shirt hung low in the front and swallowed his arms. Where was his unitard? His pants? His phone?

Dabi nodded to a desk in the corner where Hawks clothes sat folded in a neat pile.

“And why,” he struggled to keep his tone level, “are they over there.”

“You stunk like that other alpha.” Dabi’s voice was just shy of a growl. “And you were a mess.”

Hawks swung his feet off the bed; they landed heavily on the polished wood floor.

“A mess?”

“There was…” Dabi looked at the door, and Hawks didn’t miss an expression that screamed ‘I’d rather discuss anything else’. “There was a lot of slick.”

Heat flooded Hawks’ cheeks. Now he really needed air.

He stood, legs aching with what felt like days of disuse, and curiously, Dabi stood with him. Hovered even.

Hawks headed for the door, careful not to let the hem of his pants take him down, and Dabi tailed him like a damn hound. That cage sealed shut. “Dabi, I need air,” Hawks stressed.

“Okay.”

“Alone.”

“No.”

“The fuck do you mean, no?”

“I mean,” Dabi stepped closer, eyes bright despite the red of sleepless nights and stress bleeding in from the edges. “You’re not going alone.”

“Dabi-“

“Do not argue with me on this, Hawks.” Dabi yanked the door open. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but right now I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He slipped his hands into his pockets and set off down the hall, steps slower than before, message crystal clear - Hawks, emotionally overwhelmed and freshly mated to an alpha he hardly knew, was going nowhere alone.

That was good for the mission… but was that good for Hawks?

~~~

It turned out that when Dabi had said right now, he’d actually meant Hawks was not allowed out of his sight for an entire week. It did not, however, mean Dabi wanted to do anything else a newly mated pair would normally do – conversation included.  

It was only after Hawks had convinced Dabi that a week and a half - four days unconscious, seven under alpha house arrest - was a long time for a very public hero to be missing, and threw in a little plea for some fresh air and wind in his wings, that Dabi had reluctantly agreed. Hawks had promised a speedy return, claimed he wanted nothing more than a quick check-in with his agency, so they knew he was alive, and a stop home for some of his own clothes and toiletries, and had taken off for the commission headquarters.

Dabi wasn’t the worst alpha though, Hawks supposed as he circled the high-rise in the city center. Most agencies gave at least a month for mating leave, and even then, the alphas returned on edge. Hawks knew he should count himself lucky to get away at just a week.

But that didn’t stop him from making sure no one followed before landing.

Hawks headed inside, hopped the railing of the spiral staircase, and floated down to the twentieth floor. As much as he knew he should report to Madam President first, he was infinitely more concerned with visiting the commission doctor.

And he needed time to organize his thoughts - what to say, how to say it. All those things needed to be ironed out first.

With everything that had happened in the last week, Hawks had struggled to string together an explanation that would both satisfy Madam President’s need for details and hide just how close he’d been to failing his mission. Maybe this was normal - the sort of haze his mind had been in for the last week, like he didn’t need to worry about anything outside of whatever Dabi was doing - but it was also incredibly inconvenient. Especially for Hawks.

He stepped into the doctor’s office, was greeted as clinically as always, and was instructed to follow her to an exam room. Once he was stripped and gowned and sat on display on the examination table, she asked for a rundown of his time away - like it was a vacation he’d just come back from, and not a life-altering moment where his life gained a before and after more significant than even his official hero debut. But he did as he was asked, giving her an overview of what Dabi had said happened in the alley and after, and then let her get to work drawing his blood, checking his vitals, inspecting his scent glands and taking samples.

When she left the room to run tests on his pheromones, Hawks swung his feet over the side of the exam table and wished, for the first time since he’d been a child, that he wasn’t alone in the sterile room.

It was a stupid wish, he knew. It’s not like he could (or would) bring Dabi here, and even if he had, Dabi had offered Hawks nothing but his physical proximity over the last week. There was no scenting, no attempt at getting to know Hawks, and most notably for a newly mated pair - no sex. So even if Dabi had been leaning against the blank wall beside the table, it’s not like he’d have offered any reassurance.

And yet — Hawks sighed — he wanted Dabi here anyways.

One more inconvenience he’d need to learn to live with.

“Good news,” the doctor said as she stepped back in, “the bite took. Your pheromones have changed radically.” Her eyes lit up as she read over the results on her tablet. “It’s honestly incredible, considering it was outside of your heat and the recent changes your body has been going through.”

Hawks had expected that outcome to bring a ripple of relief - it was his mission, after all. What he did not expect was for relief to come barreling into him like an avalanche.

The doctor looked up for the first time since reentering, brow raised. “You’re happy about that?”

Damn pheromones.

“Well, it is my mission,” Hawks said, trying not to shrink to the other side of the room.

Humming, she ducked her head to scribble something into her notes. “Just make sure he’s scenting you daily. Your body needs it.”

Hawks shifted on the table. “And… what if he can’t?”

Her head snapped up. “Can’t?”

“He won’t talk about it, but I think his glands are damaged.”

“Well,”— she frowned — “I suppose we’ll just have to see what happens then.”

If Hawks had been even half as emotional as last week, he’d have acted on the sudden urge to bite back, to point out that it was her job to have these answers for him. Instead, he forced himself to move on to something more important. “What about my heat? Will that start sooner now?”

“That’s unclear.” She swiped through the results. “You’re an incredibly unique case, especially now. It could be another month or two, it could be this week. Regardless, I’d recommend discussing protection with Dabi sooner than later.”

“Are kids even possible for me?” he blurted, tone far more curious than he’d intended. “I- I mean, I know biologically speaking they are, but-“

“Also unclear.” She tucked her tablet under her arm and opened the door. “You can get dressed. I’ll let Madam President know that you’re on the way up.”

Hawks took his time getting dressed, walked every step up to the fiftieth floor, but still found himself standing in front of Madam President’s office far too soon. His feathers picked up a single, steady heartbeat inside – distinct in its speed and the extra half-beat it tossed in every so often – but found no clue about her mood. He took a deep breath, forced his nerves into the corner, and knocked.

“Hawks” - she spread her arms wide in welcome when the door opened, setting off instant alarm bells in Hawks’ mind - “come in. Come in.”

He followed her into the office, wings tucked tightly together at his back, hands fisted in his pockets.

“It’s been a while since your last report, but I see you’ve made progress.”

“I assume you saw the tests?”

“I did.” She swung the door shut and returned to her desk. “From reluctance to a relationship in under a month.” A smile slowly stretched her unnaturally smooth skin. “You always were fast.”

Hawks pressed his lips together and feigned nonchalance despite her barb landing, hard.

“So,” she carried on casually, “how close are you to taking him off the board?”

Hawks dug his nails into his palms. “I don’t know, exactly.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“Dabi isn’t…” Hawks struggled for the right words. “He’s closed off.”

“Still?”

“Still.”

“Have you slept with him?”

That Hawks didn’t turn ten shades of red at her question was a testament to his training. “No.”

She laughed, shrill and tinny. “Well, what are you waiting for? The more of you he gets, the harder it’ll be for him to stay closed off.”

Hawks bit the inside of his cheek and counted to five before he responded. “I don’t think it’s that simple with him. He won’t even share the same bed as me.” Sure, they were in the same room, but Dabi had brought a cot in for himself before Hawks even regained consciousness and hadn’t left room for debate on sleeping arrangements since. Hawks still had no idea why.

She leaned forward, head tipped left. “We could induce your heat.”

“No!” Hawks blurted, stomach plummeting fifty floors to hit the ground.

“No?” She repeated, eyes shifting to his neck.

“I…” Hawks cleared his throat. “He’s too perceptive. He’ll notice it’s not natural.”

“It won’t matter. He’s an alpha.”

The implication hit harder than her jab at Hawks had. Frustration kindled in his gut, and burst out in a snapped, “he’s not like that,” before Hawks could catch it. His hand flew to cover his mouth, but the damage was already done.

“He is like that,” she stressed. “He’s an alpha. He’s a villain. And I think you would do well to remember that you” — shejabbed a finger his direction — “are still a hero.”

Turning her attention to her computer, she scrolled through whatever was on screen and left Hawks to try and corral his emotions again.

What the hell was wrong with him?

“We won’t induce your heat,” she moved on, “not yet. The doctor advised against it.” Swiveling her chair back to face Hawks, she pinned him in place with a look he’d learned to loathe over the years. “But you should know that you’re running out of time to succeed in your mission.”

Hawks’ hand dropped to his side. “What?”

“Intel says the league, or PLF, whatever they’re calling themselves now, are gearing up for something big. You have a week. Maybe two to get this done.”

He shifted on his feet. One week? That was it?

“I expect another report in two days.” She stood and herded him toward the door. “We’ll discuss the heat option then. Unless you’ve already started it, that is.”

Hawks should leave it at that, he knew he should, but it didn’t stop his next words from flying out of his mouth. “What happens after?”

“After?”

Hawks stepped back over the threshold. “When I convince Dabi to stand down. I assume he’ll wind up in Tartarus but what happens

Hand on the door, she again eyed Hawks’ neck, said, “we can look at arranging conjugal visits for your heats,” and shut him out.

Already gone too long, Hawks didn’t have time to dwell on the threatening edge to her words. He hurried home to pack a few things and get back to Dabi, trying to move faster than the dread creeping in around him.

Two days until his next check-in.

A week to convince Dabi to stand down.

Two weeks at most until he put his mate in jail for life.

He didn’t want to dwell on any of it. Not alone.

Hawks took to the sky, wings pushing him faster until finally, he landed on the Villa lawn and reunited with one very broody alpha.

Dabi had his arms crossed and foot tapping before Hawks had even landed. “You’re late.” Fiery blue eyes scanned Hawks just like they had their first meeting - head to toe and back up. A glance at the wings. The neck. The steady increase in pulse picked up through Hawks’ feathers was new though. “What happened?”

Hawks folded his wings and slung his bag over one shoulder. “Nothing. Just took me a bit to take care of stuff.” He stopped a few steps away, praying the open air might hide any hint of lie in his scent.

His prayers, naturally, went unanswered.

“You’re worried.”

Hawks sighed; never had he missed his scent patches more. It was seriously unfair how much Dabi could tell through Hawks’ scent when the opposite was practically impossible. “It’s nothing. I just didn’t mean to be gone for so long.”

Dabi’s eyes narrowed.

Head lowering, Hawks tried an apology instead. “I’m sorry, I really-“

“Don’t.”

Hawks looked up.

“Don’t apologize. Just…” Dabi ran a hand through his hair. “Just text me next time if it’s going to take a while. I put my number in your phone for a reason.”

Hawks blinked. “You did?” He dug his phone out, unlocked it and, sure enough, he was up to a dozen contacts now with the addition of D.

“I didn’t tell you?”

Hawks shook his head. “You haven’t really told me anything this last week.”

“I guess I forgot?” Dabi half turned, feigning interest in the tree line. “I should have asked first. I’m sorry.”

Well, that was new. Had their time apart done them some good?

“I’m not like that,” Dabi insisted. “It’s my damn instincts. You talked about wanting to leave and I just…” he blew a steamy breath out. “It won’t happen again.”

New and unexpected.

All in one day.

“No harm done.” Hawks smiled, because really there wasn’t. If Dabi wasn’t going to comment on Hawks’ lack of contacts or messages, then Hawks wasn’t going to comment on a little alpha overprotectiveness.

“Hand that over.” Dabi held his hand out.

Well shit.

Hawks stomach dropped; maybe he’d spoken too soon. Hesitantly, he held out his phone.

“No, the bag. I’ll carry it for you.”

Oh.

“It’s fine, I can carry it.”

Dabi rolled his eyes. “I know you can.” His hand wiggled impatiently. “Hurry up. I’m late for a meeting.”

“A meeting?” Hawks perked up and handed the bag over. Despite being practically glued to Hawks’ hip for the last week, Dabi’s role in the PLF was still a mystery. Was he still recruiting? Or was Dabi’s part here more than that?

Hard as Hawks tried to convince himself that his brewing curiosity was purely in favor of his mission, there was a slow spreading warmth in his chest that said otherwise.

Brow raised, Dabi slung the bag over his shoulder and headed for the Villa. “Nothing to get excited over.”

Slipping his hands and phone into his pockets, Hawks walked alongside (another new development) Dabi. “No? What is it then, budgets or…” They turned, heading in the opposite direction of their room. “Am I coming to the meeting too?”

“Yep.” Dabi held a door for Hawks, and they started up a set of stairs. “I…” Dabi stopped on the next landing. “I’m still not ready to let you out of my sight for long, but I have things to take care of, and I can’t expect you to stay in our room all day. I know last week was… not really fair to you.”

Hawks couldn’t exactly argue with that, but for the sake of progress, “its o-“

“It’s not ok.” The air around them wavered. “I don’t mean to be that kind of alpha.” Dabi met Hawks head on. “But I can’t help it. It’s-“ He looked around, struggling in a way Hawks hadn’t seen before. “I can’t scent you properly. And letting you leave, knowing I can’t make sure people know you have a mate, it makes me anxious in a way I’ve never been.”

Okay. Was this really the same man who’d rebounded every one of Hawks’ attempts at conversation last week? Aside from reminding Hawks to eat, Dabi had hardly spoken to him then.

“I guess what I’m trying to say,” Dabi dropped his voice when a couple - PLF Hawks assumed, given Dabi’s cold glare - walked past, “is that I’m sorry. And thank you for putting up with… me.”

Alright, that settled it. This was definitely not the same guy.

But whoever had replaced his sullen, sulky, silent mate, well, Hawks kind of liked him. At least a little.

He elbowed Dabi’s arm and started back up the stairs. “You telling me broody isn’t just the norm for you?”

Dabi rolled his eyes and caught up. “No. Not like this at least.”

They rounded a corner and stepped into a corridor lined with doors. Head on a swivel, Dabi kept careful watch of every person they passed.

“Does that mean you actually know how to have fun?” Hawks teased, hoping to recapture some of the levity from their rooftop conversation. “Have you been holding out on- Oh!” Hand around Hawks’ waist, Dabi pulled them into a recess, away from prying eyes. Hawks’ back hit the wall, his wings flared.

Dabi braced his free hand on the wall beside Hawks’ head, caging him in. “I know how to have fun, pretty bird,” Dabi said, low and smokey, waking a heat deep in Hawks’ belly.

Pretty bird? PRETTY BIRD!? Hawks’ heart took off, thundering against his ribs.

“But right now,” Dabi leaned closer, nose nearly brushing Hawks’ collar, “I’m late for a meeting.” Dabi took a deep breath, and when he leaned back, the blue of his eyes was nearly lost to an endless expanse of black. “So, fun will have to wait.”

As quickly as he’d pulled them aside, Dabi stepped back out, smug smile stretching his first few staples. “Coming?”

Hawks took it back. This version of his mate was an absolute prick.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hawks breathed, following Dabi past another few doors, trying to untie the knots in his stomach and smother the scent he was surely pumping out in waves, and wondering just what the hell he was in for.

~~~

It turned out the meeting actually was budget related. Though, their attendance didn’t last long. The moment the doors closed, sealing Hawks – and his still-flustered scent - in with several alphas from the PLF, Dabi had taken Hawks by the wrist and dragged him out, claiming he couldn’t care less what they spent.

“Sooo…” Hawks eyed Dabi’s fingers around his wrist, thumb nearly pressed against the gland there. A shiver spidered down his spine. “Where are we going now?”

“I need to try something.” They flew down the stairs, around another corner and were soon in the wing Hawks realized was assigned to the original members of The League. Dabi didn’t offer any further explanation, not as he raced down the hall to their room, or when he slammed the door shut behind him. Dabi didn’t even let Hawks go until the lock was latched.

“Sit,” Dabi said, “please.”

Hawks sat on the edge of the little bed he’d had to himself the last week not because Dabi had commanded it, but because he’d pleaded it. There was an abundance of desperation in Dabi’s voice, and a hint of unraveling control, and Hawks couldn’t afford to (didn’t want to) interfere.

Dabi tore off his coat, gently laid it on the bed beside Hawks like an offering, and paced.

Pulling the coat up to his chest, Hawks breathed deep and let the juniper and woodsmoke scent comfort him as he watched. Waited.

Finally, Dabi stopped, faced Hawks, and redeclared, “I want to try something.”

Swallowing the teasing barb that had shot to the tip of his tongue, Hawks asked, “what is it?”

“I want to scent you.”

Hawks’ next breath caught in his throat.

“But it’s not… I can’t do it conventionally.” Dabi’s gaze dropped to the floor.

“Okay?”

There was a slow breath, fists opening and closing, and finally, “only my thigh glands still work.”

Thigh… oh.

Heat rose in Hawks’ cheeks.

“My neck and wrists were too badly burned to do what they’re supposed to.” Hawks didn’t miss the dip of self-depreciation there, or the cloud of self-loathing looming over Dabi’s head. “I want to scent you,” Dabi repeated in Hawks’ silence, “but only if you want it that way.”

Hawks blinked. Dabi was giving him a choice?

“I know you need it, but you didn’t have a choice in becoming my mate, so this is the least I can offer.”

Oh… oh no.

“Dabi, I-“ Hawks’ voice broke. Dabi thought… he thought he’d been the one to take Hawks’ choice? He was offering to forgo his own satisfaction for the sake of Hawks’ agency?

Fuck.

“It’s okay to say no,” Dabi insisted, even when it so clearly wasn’t. “I can figu-“

“I want to.”

“-re out somethi…” Dabi trailed off. “You do?”

Hawks nodded, because he did want it - but not for the reason he should have.

He should have wanted this for his mission. For the sake of Japan, for all the citizens who relied on heroes like him for their safety. And if not for that, he should have wanted this for himself - his health, his wellbeing as an omega who’d never even been scented. But when he dug deep, when he turned his well-trained eye on his own feelings, his reason was really quite simple.

He wanted to do this for Dabi - for the first person to put him above their own needs.

“So” — Hawks shifted on the bed, smiled softly — “how do we do this?”

The temperature spiked. “We uh-“ Dabi cleared his throat. “Well-“ He crossed the room and sat beside Hawks. “Do you want your neck scented, or your wrists?”

Instinct and nerves and a pinch of exhilaration rolled around in Hawk’s belly. “N-neck,” he breathed, leaning ever-so-slightly closer to Dabi, like he was the center of Hawks’ gravity in this moment.

Dabi reached out to take his coat from Hawks, laid it behind them. Hawks’ coat was next.

 Carefully, Dabi reached out to cup Hawks’ cheek in his palm. “You know, you still never told me why you were pretending to be an alpha.” His gaze slid down Hawks’ neck. “And I know that’s my fault, I wasn’t available for you last week.”

“Dabi-“

Dabi shook his head. “It’s true. I might have been here, but not in the way a newly mated omega needs their alpha to be.”

Their alpha. The words ignited a flurry of emotion in Hawks chest.

“I was already so on edge around you, before I knew you were an omega.” Dabi traced the line of Hawks’ neck down to his scent gland, ran his thumb in soothing circles around it and took a slow breath. “Or maybe I did know, deep down. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t bring myself to hurt you” He laughed softly, warm breath fanning Hawks’ skin. “But I’d still like to know why you were hiding it from everyone, whenever you’re ready to tell me.”

Hawks leaned into the touch. “I’ll tell you, I promise, but…” he let out a shaky breath when Dabi’s thumb ghosted over the gland. “Please.“ He closed his eyes, let instinct take over. “Please scent me first.”

The bed creaked. Metal clinked. Fabric dropped to the floor and the mattress dipped back down.

“Can you get on your knees?”

Hawks’ eyes fluttered open. He shifted to the floor, knelt between Dabi’s legs. Heat gathered in his belly, snaked down to his core. God he’d never felt like this before, not outside his heat. And even then…

Maybe it was because Dabi was an alpha. Maybe because Dabi was Hawks’ alpha.

Dabi threaded his fingers through Hawks’ hair; his other hand gripped the edge of the mattress. “You wanna take the lead?” he asked, voice lined with something that stoked Hawks’ growing arousal.

“You can,” Hawks hummed, catching Dabi’s scent stronger than ever before and damn near melting right into the wood floor.  “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“What does that mean?” The scent shifted, sharpened, and Hawks was hit with the urge to soothe.

“I’ve never been scented.”

“Never?”

Hawks shook his head. “I’ve been on blockers and patches and suppressants since I presented.” The truth flowed, free and uninhibited, and a weight Hawks hadn’t realized he was carrying lifted. “It’s why you couldn’t tell I was an omega. Why no one could tell.”

Dabi’s fingers gently scratched Hawks’ scalp. He guided Hawks a little closer. “But, why?”

“Because…” Hawks let out a breath. The healthy skin of Dabi’s thigh pebbled. “Because a lot of time and money was spent on my hero training and presenting as an omega made it all moot.”

Hawks smelled rather than saw Dabi’s frustration with that answer, but the change was there and gone in a beat. “That’s not right.”

“I know that now,” he whispered. It was a frightening realization, all the things he’d brushed off and accepted. Some small part of him hoped that late was still better than never.

But right now, he didn’t want to dwell on that. Or on the things he wasn’t telling Dabi. Or his mission. He simply wanted…

“What about your heats?” Dabi scooted forward, pressed the gland on his inner thigh against Hawks’ neck and let out a sharp huff of steamy air. “W-what did you…”

The heat from Dabi’s body washed over Hawks. His hands fisted in his lap as he let the pheromones - so crisp and clear and soothing - carry him away. “They were scheduled.” He barely recognized his own voice. “With betas.”

Another change in scent - this one potent enough to pull Hawks out of his daze. He leaned back, looked up.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Dabi tipped his head back. “But that’s… that’s fucking inhumane, Hawks.”

Already lamenting the loss of contact, Hawks moved forward, only to be stopped.

Hands holding Hawks’ cheeks, Dabi frowned. “You understand that, right?”

“I…”  Inhumane? Sure, it went against his biology, it snuffed out every instinct and want and need, but inhumane? He’d been fed and clothed properly for the first time in his life, had access to running hot water and a bed with an actual mattress. He’d learned how to fight, saved countless civilians, protected people.

If he’d never become a hero, what would have happened to them?

Dabi sighed and let Hawks go. “We’ll talk about that later.” He placed his hands behind him and leaned back. “Right now, I want to scent my omega.”

My omega.

If Hawks hadn’t been kneeling, he might have fainted, and given Dabi’s sultry smile, he knew it. “I think you should lead, since this is your first time. Just do what feels right.”

Following a tiny tug of instinct that led him straight past trepidation, Hawks leaned forward, nose brushing the edge of Dabi’s boxers, and nuzzled his gland against Dabi’s.

Under his breath, Dabi swore.

Hawks slipped a hand around Dabi’s leg to hold it in place and explored what felt right. He closed his eyes, felt the scent everywhere - on him, in him, cradling and cleansing and saturating every corner of Hawks - body and mind.

“Dabi,” he pleaded, unsure what he was even asking for.

“That’s it.” Dabi stroked Hawks’ hair. “That’s a good omega.”

Fuck, if that didn’t just go right to Hawks’ core.

He angled his head for more, caught sight of the growing bulge under Dabi’s boxers, felt his own arousal straining against his pants. “Dabi, please.”

“God, you smell divine.”

Hawks pressed for more, made a small noise at the back of his throat - maybe a moan, maybe something more - and slipped his other hand up Dabi’s thigh. His fingers snuck under the fabric of Dabi’s boxers, tips just brushing-

“Stop.”

Hawks blinked. Pulled back and shook his head to clear it. “Did I do something wrong?”

Dabi smiled, the first genuine smile Hawks had seen from him, and shook his head. “Hell no.” He waved away the smoke curling around them, seeping out of his seams. “But I don’t want to scent you into heat. Or myself into rut.”

Hawks’ wings drooped.

“Hey now.” Dabi shifted off the bed to kneel on the floor with Hawks. “You did good. Really fucking good. But too much more of that and we’ll wind up somewhere we’re not ready to go together.”

Another dip of disappointment.

“But“ — Dabi took Hawks’ hand — “I’ll still scent you like that every day until we are ready, okay?” He gave one reassuring squeeze and then stood to pull his pants back on.

Hawks took a moment to collect himself - physically and mentally - before climbing back up on the bed, content and conflict at odds within. He didn’t want to ruin this moment, to taint the memory of his very first scenting with slimy motives and secrets, but it was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up.

“Speaking of heat,” Hawks started tentatively, hating himself for every word, “do you have… um, protection here?”

Dabi stiffened. “Why?”

“Just in case?” He tried. “I’m not sure when mine will start.”

Dabi’s brows dipped together as he fastened his belt. “No. I haven’t… hooking up hasn’t been a priority for me. So, I’ve never had reason to get any.”

Hands in his lap, Hawks nodded. Wrong answer for Hawks’ mission, right answer for his instinct - the dissonance between the two made his head throb.

Dabi pulled his coat on and nudged Hawks’ leg. “Why don’t we go see what the others are up to, hm? You could meet Twice or Compress, I’m sure having someone besides me to talk to here would be nice, and they aren’t half bad.”

“Yeah.” Hawks forced a smile. “That’d be nice.”

The little spring in Dabi’s normally heavy steps was impossible to miss as he led them to another room, but Hawks was far too lost in his own head to fully appreciate the change.

Of all the alphas, why did Dabi - mass murder, arsonist, third most wanted villain in Japan - have to wind up being so god damn kind and understanding?

 How the hell would Hawks live with himself for turning his mate in now?

~~~

The next two days passed in a blur of scenting and cards and cooked meals and shared stories. Dabi was surprisingly chatty once he opened up. At least, he was about the little things - his food likes and dislikes, his hatred for car rides and boats, his favorite music and books and borderline nerdy hero analysis.

It was useless intel for Hawks’ mission.

It was everything his heart craved.

Hawks offered bits in return. Nothing to give himself away, enough to stay truthful. The balancing act left him exhausted by the end of every night, and when he laid down in bed (still alone, because apparently Dabi had the patience and control of a literal saint), he was asleep before his mind could ruminate on exactly what was coming.

That didn’t stop dread from creeping back in though, and by the time Hawks was due to sneak away to give his next report to Madam President, Dabi wasn't keen to let Hawks out of his sight without knowing what was wrong.

“You still won’t tell me?” Arms crossed, Dabi leaned against the doorframe in their room and eyed Hawks as he pocketed his phone and slipped his coat on.

Hawks attempted a charming smile, fell very short. “I’m just tired.”

“You pass out the minute you lay down,” Dabi countered, “you even snore. How can you still be tired?”

Hawks sighed and stepped up to Dabi. He could ask him to move, he knew Dabi would - in everything they’d done, Dabi had made sure Hawks knew he had a choice.

But the problem was, Hawks didn’t want to leave. He wanted Dabi to stop him. To refuse to let him go until Hawks was forced to vomit out the truth about why he’d even sought Dabi out in the first place.

“And aren’t you used to running on fumes?” Dabi’s question was phrased as a joke but Hawks caught the underlying worry in Dabi’s pulse, felt the vibration of toes squirming inside boots.

Placing a hand on Dabi’s arm, Hawks tried another angle. “Okay, I’m worried about work.”

Anger flared in Dabi’s eyes.

Okay, yeah. That was the wrong tactic. Hawks should have known better, considering they’d yet to revisit this touchy subject.

“You’re worried about the people who forced you to pretend to be someone you aren’t?”

“Dabi-“

“It’s fine, Hawks,” Dabi said shortly. “I told you I won’t tell you what to do and I meant it.” Dabi shrugged Hawks’ hand off and stepped away from the door. “I just wish you’d wake up and realize they don’t deserve you.”

Dabi left the room in a flurry of heat.

Hawks felt his heart lurch against his ribs, desperate to follow, but he was already late to check in, and the longer he made Madam President wait, the worse things would get for him and Dabi.

He left the room and headed for a nearby door to the grounds, placating the voice of instinct insisting he go back and fix things with reminders that he just needed to make one quick call, and then he would go back to his alpha.

Not wanting to dwell on just how fucked up that was - or the way it had his insides squirming, he stopped at the tree line, pulled out his phone and made the call.

She waited for the fifth ring to answer. “Not in heat yet? I assume you wouldn’t be calling if you were.”

“No, not yet. But he is scenting me now.” The words hurt coming out, like each one was covered in thorns and protesting it’s removal.

“Hmm.” She was silent a moment. Hawks tried not to pace. “That’s not enough.”

“I’m close. I’m sure with just a few more days of him scenting me, I’ll-“

“Close isn’t enough, Hawks. We need him out, now,” she paused. “Seduce him.”

“I wo-" Hawks snapped his mouth shut, caging in the rest of his defiance.

“That’s an order, Hawks.”

Holding the speaker away from his lips for a moment, he called on Dabi’s soothing scent still thrumming through his veins and tried again. “I have another way. Just trust me on this.”

The other end was silent aside from an occasional click of static, until-

“Fine. Two more days.” She hung up without another word.

Hawks hand dropped lamely to his side, his eyes lost focus somewhere in the woods. There wouldn’t be another chance after this, that much was clear.

Which meant - he turned toward the mansion, stride sure - it was time to confess. To lay it all out there and let Dabi - let his mate - help him find a way through this. Together.

He may be the shittiest mate in existence for this, but surely Dabi would want to find a way to stay with Hawks, as long as-

His phone vibrated. He stopped on the edge of the walk.

Dispatch was calling.

“Hello?”

“Hawks, we need you in Sector 17. We have reports of a villain with some kind of vaporous quirk on the loose and your GPS pings you as being the closest one capable of dealing with them.”

Hawks frowned, glanced west. Seventeen was close, but… “isn’t there someone else who can handle it?”

“Not in the vicinity. We need someone who can apprehend without needing to get close.”

Hawks pulled his lower lip between his teeth. “Just one villain?”

“Affirmative.”

He glanced back, felt instinct roil against his decision, and took to the skies. “Alright, I’ll handle it. Send me his last known location.”

Hawks hung up, and fast as his wings could carry him, headed for the villain, head and heart tearing in two.

Just one villain, he told himself, then I’ll figure a way through this with Dabi.

Landing on top of a warehouse halfway between the Villa and his apartment, Hawks went very, very still. Sifting through the noise of the birds, the wind playing with the leaves, the distant sounds of horns and tires scratching over gravel, he searched for the culprit.

This side of town was deserted so late in the day, but even without anything around to distract him, Hawks still couldn’t-

“There you are.”

Hawks spun, fired a volley of feathers at the voice. They all disappeared in a haze of pink mist.

“Figured you’d lead with that move,” the voice taunted from inside the haze.

Hawks stepped back, eyed the slow-rolling cloud’s approach. He couldn’t feel the feathers he’d sent in, and they didn’t return when he tried to recall them. So, a disintegration quirk maybe? Something too quick for pain to register. Whatever it was, it would make entering the cloud impossible.

He could try going above, getting a bird’s eye view of whatever he was dealing with and going from-

“Gotcha.”

Hawks’ feathers zipped back out of the mist, carrying tendrils of pink home, and reattached before he could stop them. He tensed, braced for pain.

Nothing happened.

The mist rolled over his skin, entirely harmless. All his feathers responded when he called to them. Maybe this guy’s quirk was a disruptor of some sort?

If that was the case – he reached for his phone - he wasn’t the right hero to-

“What the fuck!” His stomach lurched. Contracted and twisted until it wrung tears from his eyes. Heat clawed up from his belly, broiling him from the inside out, steaming his mind until he could hardly think straight.

There was a distorted voice, a laugh and a pitch that suggested mischief, and then Hawks was alone on the roof, folding in on himself in an attempt to protect his organs.

What the hell was this? A quirk suited for biological warfare?

He blinked to clear his blurring eyes, bit down on his sleeve to muffle a cry of pain when he moved too quickly, and hit redial to call dispatch for help.

The line was dead.

He tried again, fighting through a wave of nausea.

Static sound in his ear.

He hunched over. Cocooned in the safety of his wings, he tried to breathe slowly - in through his nose, out through his mouth. Someone would come soon enough, they had his last location and knew he was on scene. When he didn’t report that the situation was handled, someone would come.

They had to.

~~~

No one came.

Hawks couldn’t say how long he waited like that – alone on the rooftop under a dying sun, eyes closed, teeth gritted, hands pressed to his stomach to try and alleviate the pain. He lost track of the seconds somewhere around seventeen hundred, unable to continue counting when pain consumed even the most basic thought - but he knew he was in for more than just hurt when it faded to give way to something new.

Need.

“Oh shit.” Hawks pushed himself to stand, tugged at his collar as the heat in his body collected in his core. No, no, no… it couldn’t… these kinds of quirks were supposed to be registered. Dispatch would have told him what he’d be dealing with if this was an induction-type quirk.

He eyed the path to the mansion - to his alpha. He needed…

He shook his head, forced himself to turn away and took off for his apartment. He couldn’t go there, not like this, not with so many other alphas around.

He crashed clumsily in through his window, fell to the floor with the broken glass. Sweat beaded at his brow. Want curled in his core. He pressed his legs together, clutched his phone in hand.

Fuck this… it wasn’t supposed to happen this way, but…

He opened his contacts. Hit call.

 “Hawks!” The raspy worry in Dabi’s voice scratched some part of Hawks’ brain just right; he stifled a moan. “Where the fuck are you, I saw you leave and-“

“Dabi, I need you.”

“… Hawks?”

“My heat, Dabi, it’s starting.” Hawks curled in on himself. “Please, I need you.”

“Shit.” The line crackled. “Where are you?”

Oh my god, there was no way…

“Hey!” a tight but cheerful voice called, “which one of you back there has the fire?”

Touya closed his eyes and prayed, please tell me that isn’t who I think it is. Please. I’ll do anything: visit mom more, call Shoto, text dad back, just please tell me-

“Hey there.”

Damnit.

Touya cracked an eye open to find sunshine in human form looking down at him, and his heart hop-skipped behind his ribs. Of all the heroes who could have come to their aid…

Hawks’ head cocked right. “You okay?”

Touya didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth (not that anything intelligent would have come out), before twin shrieks pierced his ears, and the two women flung themselves into Hawks’ arms, fear forgotten in the face of, well, Hawks’ face.

“There, there, ladies. You’re okay now.” Hawks patted their shoulders as they blubbered their thanks, but his eyes had yet to leave Touya, stirring a flurry of feelings Touya did not have time for. “So,” Hawks tried again, “which of you has the fire quirk?”

Not Touya. Not right now, anyway, when he was late and didn’t have time for the paperwork and interrogation and legal bullshit that came with ‘unauthorized quirk usage’. Oh god, and if his dad found out…

Lips pressed together, Touya laid his hands flat over his thighs and forced himself to stay still.

Hawks made a good show of considering them each, but it was clear he already had his answer when he settled on Touya once again and wielded his unfairly good looks as a weapon to stir up a whole mess of wriggly feelings that made Touya squirm like he was guilty (he was, but that was beside the point.)

Hawks smiled and planted his hands on his hips. “Anything you’d like to share?”

Yeah, I think you’re hot but probably really arrogant like all heroes. I own two of your limited-edition Fierce Wings hoodies and the keychain exclusive to the first ten orders but refused to go to your signing event because I will not be lumped in with your Chicks. Sometimes, you work with my dad and that pisses me off. And if you keep smiling at me like that, I’m likely to take this entire city down in a blaze of glory.

“Nope, and I’m late!” Touya blurted instead, shooting to his feet and brushing the chalky dust from his jeans. “It would have been nice if you’d been twenty minutes faster, but thanks for the save I guess. Bye!”

Real smooth, Touya, he chided himself as he bolted across the street, dodging worthless heroes swooping into cuff the four villains pinned under Hawks’ feathers, and trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. The one and only time you’ll ever meet Hawks, and you didn’t just roast his feathers, but you roasted his hero work too.

If Touya never saw Hawks again, that would still be too soon.

It wasn’t until Touya was safe behind closed doors that he dared to look back, and his racing pulse downshifted. Hawks was surrounded, nearly obscured by an army of lurking civilians and the flash of enough cameras to make Touya dizzy, even from this distance. That was good. Very good, actually.

He rushed to the front desk and spammed the bell until a terrified worker poked his head out of the back room. “Package for Todoroki. And hurry it up.” The fans would only keep Hawks busy for so long, and Touya needed to be long gone before the hero’s attention turned toward finding one civilian do-gooder.

“Here you… is that Hawks?” The postal worker gaped, and when Touya turned, his heart hopped up into his throat; Hawks and his sunshine smile were right outside the doors, hand on the handle as he tried to ease away from the crowd.

Touya snatched the package and dashed his name across the signature pad. “Sure is. In fact” — Touya rounded the counter, grabbed the guy, dragged him towards the doors — “he’s taking civilian statements about the attack. Better go give him yours.” He shoved the worker forward, spun on his heel to head for the back exit, and over his shoulder called out, “don’t leave a single detail out! He wants to hear everything!”

Touya ran out into the bright morning light and for as many blocks as his ill-exercised lungs allowed, and didn’t relax until the bus had carried him – sweaty and coated in slimy concrete dust – and his butterflies, an entire cities’ length away from Hawks and all the problems he posed.

What a damn morning.

🦋🦋🦋

Touya made it to work with five minutes to spare.

He slipped in the back door, package cradled under his arm, thermos of steaming coffee in hand, and hurried across the Center in a surprisingly good mood. Despite missing a session with his therapist, despite the very loud, very angry riot going on in his very empty stomach, despite there not being enough time to warm his Palos Verdes up to meet his Little Explorers today, he really couldn’t complain about his morning, all things considered.

He was alive, for one (not that those low-life losers could have taken him down), he didn’t have any new burns and had avoided a quirk-misuse citation, he’d managed to shower off several layers of chalky building dust, all of his butterflies were alive and well as far as he could tell, and — he rounded a corner to cross the glass walkway connecting the Nature Center to his domain, excitement thrumming through his veins — he’d seen Hawks, in person. Talked to him even! So what if it was only because Touya had technically broken the law, those stunning amber eyes had still been on him.

It was a moment he wished he could transfer from memory to memento so that he could display it right beside his signed (thank you, Natsuo) Hawks’ hero card. He halted at the door. Maybe he could, there had to be a quirk for that, right?

Later, he would dig into that, right now…

Touya turned his focus towards running over a mental list of the activities he’d planned for his class as he unlocked the outer door to the Butterfly House and stepped into the vestibule. Two steps to the left and he was in his office (a repurposed closet) to swap out his good boots for work ones and shelve his Palos package. After class he would check on the little guys, and hopefully by then they’d have warmed up enough to introduce them into the house.

He bent to tuck the bottoms of his navy work pants into his boots, wincing at the ache in his glutes, and half-heartedly vowed to add a little cardio to his days going forward as he tied his laces. Not that he expected he’d be skirting the law again… it just never hurt to be prepared.

Stifling an old-man’s groan, he straightened, and after one longing look at his still-too-hot coffee and a gentle pat to his box of butterflies, he headed back out to meet his class in the Center’s lobby.

🦋🦋🦋

Only six kids - five girls and one very lost looking boy – showed up, not even half of the number that had signed up initially, just a quarter of the spots he’d made available. He tried not to let his disappointment show as he led them through the Nature Center and on a tour of the near-acre expanse of the Butterfly House, but it was difficult when yesterday’s meeting with the board of directors had ended on a threatening – ‘remember, the house doesn’t need a keeper on staff to stay running’ – and every coworker he’d walked his little class past would happily turn on him if it meant adding his salary to their exhibit funding.

Leading the class deeper into the house, Touya explained how to handle the butterflies if they landed on them, what not to touch (just about everything) and challenged them to spot as many different species as they could while he set up the shadowbox displays he’d made yesterday and tried not to panic.

There wasn’t anything else he could have done… was there?

He’d shared the hell out of the event across every major social media site, plastered fliers all over town, written up a blurb about the house and the program for the Center’s monthly newsletter, manned a booth at the Summer Solstice Festival and actually talked to people (ew) about the program.

He’d run with every suggestion they threw his way.

Well, every suggestion but one; Touya refused to ask dear old dad to make an appearance.

He had tried other heroes though - Ms. Monarch: The Butterfly Hero, Wildflower Hero: Kosumosu, and a handful of others whose gimmick fit the theme - they just hadn’t come through for him. One excuse after another had flooded in from their agencies - the drive was too far, the time away from patrol was too risky – excuses they would have saved if Touya hadn’t refused - on principle - to take advantage of his last name when signing the invitations.

It boiled down to one thing - his event was too small to boost their popularity the way a patrol could, and with the polls for the Hero Billboard Charts opening in a few short weeks, what good were a potential couple dozen kids from a small, coastal town for their numbers?

Why he had thought a hero might come through for him was a mystery, but thankfully, he had plenty of experience fending for himself.

“Alright, kids, let’s talk about life cycle.” Touya herded the class away from his butterfly’s favorite patch of milkweed and towards one of the small, round tables he’d pulled out of storage to set up in the middle of the house. Bright afternoon sunlight filtered in through the glass walls, glinting off the front of his shadowbox stories of a monarch’s lifecycle, bringing the fiery orange of their wings to life once more as he simplified the idea of a complete metamorphosis for eight- and nine-year-old minds and fielded questions about the monarchs he’d imported from America.

Six sets of wide eyes and eager ears clung to his every word. It was a small mercy that the few kids who’d shown up had at least come interested to learn. Or it was, until Kirara – a self-proclaimed chatterbox - raised her hand to ask the question he’d been hoping to avoid.

“Isn’t Ms. Monarch coming?”

He swallowed a sigh; this kid’s family must have seen his first version of the event advertisement – the one that had teased a potential hero appearance before Ms. Monarch’s agency had crushed his hopes with their response. It wasn’t Touya’s fault they hadn’t seen the updated version, but still, he tried for sympathy. “She couldn’t make it.”

“Will any heroes be coming?” Aki – the little boy – asked as he raised his hands to protect his fox-like ears from the Blue Moons fluttering around them.

“No, not this year, but tomorrow we’ll have a new, endangered species out in the house!” Touya’s attempt at enthusiasm was met with slumped shoulders and averted eyes, but he pushed on, spurred by a spark of stubborn will. “They came all the way from California, and-“

A flash of light from the entrance – the vestibule door opening – cut Touya off. Another flash followed, too soon to be the soft-close of the outer door, too close to be anything but the inner door. A prickle of heat nipped at his nerves; someone had just waltzed in without waiting for the vestibule door to close! How many butterflies had Touya just lost?

“I’ll be right back. Everyone take one” — he set a stack of identification cards on the table — “and work together to find me an Apollo Butterfly.”

Storming down the winding paths of the house, Touya dug his nails into his palms and searched for calm to combat his heat. Who the hell had ignored four – four – very clearly posted warning signs about waiting for the outer door to close before entering? Who the hell thought they were more important than the house’s helpless inhabitants who didn’t understand the danger beyond those doors?

Touya rounded a buddleja bush, verbal lashing ready at the tip of his tongue, but stopped dead in his tracks by the sight of wings - bold, beautiful, larger-than-life wings the same shade as the scarlet sage he’d planted by the entrance - in his Butterfly House.

And the man who wielded them…

No way. There was absolutely no way. Touya’s heart ricocheted against his ribs. This was a mirage, a heat-induced illusion thanks to his own rising temperature and the heavy, humid air of the house, a bedtime-fantasy-become-vivid daydream.

“Hey, you!”

Oh fuck. Not a mirage. Not a mirage!

Hawks stepped closer, wings twitching at a cloud of curious butterflies fluttering around them. “Remember me?”

Touya gaped like a goddamn fish, tongue too tied to do anything useful.

“This is definitely not where I expected to find you, but, well, the feather never lies.” Something small wiggled in Touya’s back pocket; a streak of red zipped past him and disappeared in Hawks’ wings. “What exactly do you do here? The lady up front didn’t say.” He slipped his hands in his pockets, attention bouncing from one colorful bloom to the next. A grin played at his lips. “Something with… flowers?”

The concept of conversation remained just out of Touya’s reach.

“Not much of a talker, eh?” Another twitch. Hawks’ wings folded tighter against his back. “That’s okay. I know I’m probably getting in the way of your work, but I really wanted to ask for your- ack!” His wings spasmed and extended, far too quickly for Touya’s fragile butterflies to get out of the way.

And Touya, the Todoroki he was, finally found his voice in a flash of white-hot temper. “Knock it the fuck off, you’re going to hurt them!”

Brow furrowing, Hawks blinked. “Hurt… oh, the butterflies?”

“Yes, the butterflies. You just smacked them all with your damn wings!” Touya dropped to his knees to carefully pick up a Chinese Peacock dragging its now-limp wing behind as it tried to crawl to safety. “Speaking of” — he stood, glaring at the hero and cradling the poor butterfly in hand — “how many got out when you ignored my house rules.”

Hawks tipped his head. “Huh?”

Wasn’t Hawks supposed to be intelligent? Youngest to break top ten, quickest to catch on and all that. Was there nothing but air in that pretty head?

“The signs.” Touya jabbed a finger towards the door. “You walked past fourwarnings not to enter until the outside door closed and still blitzed right in! In case you didn’t notice, butterflies don’t exactly have a decent sense of where they should and shouldn’t be.” With his free hand, he gestured to the swarm still hovering near Hawks’ wings.

“Oh, I didn’t see any signs I guess.” Hawks rubbed his neck. “I think a few may have slipped out, but in my defense, I didn’t know this place was full of butterflies.”

“W-well, go get them back,” Touya huffed and tapped his foot. Hot or not, someone needed to hold Hawks accountable for his stupidity, even if it was futile; a hero as high-ranking as Hawks wouldn’t be caught dead rounding up something as insignificant as-

“Okay.”

“O…kay?”

Hawks nodded. A small army of feathers detached from his wings to hover near the doors. “Of course.” He leaned in and flashed a winning smile, and Touya found himself wondering if his missing butterflies might have sought refuge in his stomach. “But only if you promise to tell me your name once I’ve brought them all back.”

“Mine?” Touya’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “Name? Mine… my name?”

“That’s the deal, hot stuff. Your name for the safe return of your butterflies.”

Heat surged through Touya’s body; hot stuff… him? It was a small miracle he didn’t combust right then and there, turning himself into literal hot stuff.

“It’s… I’m-“ Touya stopped himself, pressed his lips together and considered.

Surely Hawks was only here to cite Touya for his illegal quirk-use this morning, why else would he have wasted time tracking Touya down?

So, give his name, get his butterflies back… and probably wind up with a hefty fine, or refuse and at best get slapped with a charge for obstructing justice.

This was a lose-lose situation for him, but - he looked down at the Chinese Peacock in his palm and sighed – he could give his butterflies a chance. “It’s To-“

“Mr. Touya!”

Touya startled; that should have taken them much longer.

The class barreled around the corner, brandishing the card for the Apollo. “Hey, Mr. Touya, we found it! We found the…” They stopped, small bodies colliding, and six ear-piercing shrieks of excitement shattered the calm of the house, scattering the butterflies to the far corners. With stars in their eyes, the kids looked from Hawks to Touya to Hawks, jaws dropping lower with every pass.

And Touya, well, he felt a little better about his own reaction.

“You said… you said there wouldn’t be any heroes,” Aki breathed, rocking up on his tiptoes to see over the girls. “But- but you got us one. You got us Hawks!”

“That’s right! I’m here for…” Hawks looked at Touya expectantly.

Touya’s stomach crested and dropped on a rollercoaster of emotions; what the hell was Hawks doing?

“Little Explorers!” Kazu – the quietest of the bunch, until now – piped up.

“Exactly! I’m here for Little Explorers.” Hawks beamed. “Mr. Touya wanted to make sure you guys had the best hero appearance for your” — Hawks looked around the house — “butter…fly… class?”

The kids giggled. “But you’re not a butterfly like Ms. Monarch.”

“No, no I’m not.” Hawks cast a curious look Touya’s way. “But, just like butterflies, I do have…” Slowly, he spread his wings until the tips brushed the peonies bordering the path, earning a round of applause from the impressionable youth and an eye roll from the one who could spot a spectacle from a mile away (endearing or otherwise).

“I’m sorry I’m late, there was an incident in the city this morning that I needed to help with.” Hawks winked at Touya, again testing the limit of Touya’s quirk-control, and then offered both gloved hands to the class. “Why don’t you show me what I missed.”

The kids surged forward. Grasping any bit of the hero they could reach, they recited facts about the foliage that had, apparently, stuck somewhere in their little brains, and pulled Hawks down the path to the makeshift learning space.

Touya swore under his breath. Quickly, but carefully, he deposited his injured butterfly on the closest leaf and ran to catch up.

“Wait, just wait a second!” Touya grabbed Hawks’ arm. “I need to talk to…” Under the baggy hero jacket, Touya swore he felt Hawks flex. The rest of his sentence scattered like his startled butterflies.

“Mr. Touya?”

Touya yanked his hand back. Fingers flexing to commit that muscle to memory, he addressed his very confused class. “I need to talk to Hawks. Just for a second, logistics about his appearance and all that boring adult stuff, ya know?” A tittering sound Touya had never once made in his life bubbled up. “You all go find that Apollo again so you can show it to me when I get back.”

The kids looked up at Hawks, who gave them an encouraging nod, and reluctantly continued down the path.

The second Touya was sure the class was out of earshot he rounded on Hawks. “What the heck are you doing?”

“Filling in for Ms. Monarch?” Hawks guessed.

“She was never coming,” Touya said bluntly. “Her agency turned the event down. And we- the Center can’t pay your fee.” He wrung his hands together. “I only had the approval to ask for a pro bono appearance.”

“They didn’t give you funding to bring a hero in?”

Touya shook his head. “They never do. This place runs on donations.” Donations that would never cover the fee to bring someone from the top ten in. Hell, if Hawks decided to bill them for his ten minutes here, Touya would need to sell every bit of hero merchandise he’d collected over the years just to help the Center break even. “Low traffic exhibits like mine get enough to run advertisements and that’s it.”

Hawks was silent for a moment, watching a few brave butterflies return to check out the newest winged creature in their home. “Would it help your exhibit if I stayed?”

“Would it help my…” Touya snorted. “Of course it would. But like I said, we can’t-“

“Then I’ll do it.”

“-pay your-“

“For free.”

“-appearance…”  Touya trailed off. Was he dreaming? There was no way he’d heard that right. “For free? Why?”

“I’ve got some time to spare.” Hawks shrugged, smiling softer than Touya had ever seen in the hero’s photos. “And I’d like to help you.”

That settled it; Touya was dreaming.

Heroes didn’t do… this. They didn’t stick around cities too small for chain restaurants or proper sized hospitals, and too underdeveloped to boast more than the Nature Center and a bridge of vague historical significance, they never had time to spare, and they definitely didn’t offer free appearances just because.

“It’s the least I can do for you after your heroics this morning.”

Shit. Hawks washere to cite him.

Touya’s stomach sank; the dream shifted into nightmare territory.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, “I know we’re not supposed to use our quirks on others, but didn’t know your feathers were mixed in with the debris. I didn’t even realize you were there until it was too late. I swear I’d never hurt anyone on purpose.” He clasped his hands together. “My quirk was under control the entire time. I only acted because the dumbass with the shield fainted.”

Hawks held up his hands. “Woah, woah, slow down, hot stuff.”

“Please, please give me a pass this once,” Touya begged, barreling through his embarrassment to grovel like a petty criminal to his favorite Pro because that was somehow still better than having his dad find out what had happened. “I won’t do it again, promise, just please don’t cite me.”

“You think that’s why I’m here?”

Touya blinked. “Uh… yes?”

“I couldn’t care less about that.” Hawks’ expression shifted; the airbrushed quality he must have been trained to maintain smoothed into something more human (and somehow, more handsome). “And I’d never punish someone for being brave.”

“Brave?” Touya’s voice came out an octave too high.

“Mhmm.” Hawks smiled. “I mighta lost a few feathers this morning, but I know you were just trying to protect those ladies.” He leaned closer, and gently added, “and I thought that was very brave of you.”

Touya blushed all the way down to his toes.

“So, the reason I’m here,” Hawks said, closer now.

Oh my god, what is this?

“ -is because I wanted to ask- “

Holy… no way. Was Hawks going to-

Hawks’ breath fanned Touya’s skin. “ -if you’re s-“

“Are you gonna kiss!?” the kids shouted, popping out of the bushes around them.

Touya startled and sparked; a flicker of blue raced down his arms to fizzle out at his fingers.

Mortification was quick to follow; so much for the quirk-control he’d touted a minute ago.

“I was uh…” Hawks glanced at Touya (whose sole focus in that moment was on not catching fire), and then crouched in front of the kids. “I was thanking him. Yeah! Mr. Touya did something really heroic this morning, and I want to make sure that he’s properly rewarded for it.”

“With a kiss?” The girls asked, hands fisted and flailing with excitement in front of them. “Cause it totally looked like you were about to kiss him.”

“Yeah, Mr. Touya was all red!”

“And Hawks was looking at his lips!”

“I was brave this morning, do I get a kiss?”

Kirara grabbed on to Aki’s arm, shaking him and bellowing, “they looked like my daddies when they’re being lovey dovey!”

His lips? Lovey dovey?

“Well” — Hawks dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper that Touya had to scoot closer to hear — “first- “

FIRST!? Hand over his racing heart, Touya spiraled.

“ -I need to get all his butterflies back. I didn’t follow the rules when I came in, and some of them got out. Mr. Touya cares a lot about his butterflies” – the kids nodded vigorously – “so he’s very sad that some of them are lost. I need to fix that.”

“But while my feathers are out looking for them” — Hawks stood and took the class under his wings, tactfully turning their attention to safer topics as he steered them back to the learning area — “why don’t you guys show me that Apollo you found before.”

Touya took a slow breath in, held it to ten, and let it out in a steamy sigh before he followed his class - and their unexpected guest – berating himself the whole way.

Way to go, Touya. First you roast him, then you scold him, then you lose control of your quirk and clam up in front of a bunch of kids. The guy probably thinks you’re an absolute weirdo now and regrets ever following you here to ask…

Touya sighed, what the hell had Hawks wanted to ask?

“I wanted to ask if you’re ssssssore?” Touya tried filling in the rest of Hawks’ sentence out loud. He rolled his stiff neck, pretty sure that was the least of a hero’s worry. “If you’re ssssafe?” Safe from who, six kids half his size? No, that wasn’t it either. “If you’re… satisfied?”

But satisfied with what, Hawks’ hero work this morning? Stepping around stalks of deep purple blazing star starting to lean over the path, he shook his head; heroes didn’t poll individual citizens, especially when the charts were…

Touya stopped at the edge of the learning space, gaze landing on his class, and like the slow-moving clouds in the sky his questions drifted away.

Gathered around the same table as before, his Litte Explorers – led by Kirara – had seated Hawks in a chair that made him look comically large to show off one of Touya’s shadow box displays. Hawks was a rapt participant, despite his inability to sit still, nodding along with the kids’ every word and asking questions while his foot bounced under the table. Kazu took over the lecture, tapping the glass and warning Hawks about the powder on a butterfly’s wings and how it wasn’t to be touched, only to be interrupted mid-sentence when a Tailed Jay landed on the back of her hand. The class – Hawks included - ooh’d and aah’d as the butterfly spread it’s wings to show off spots that matched Kazu’s lime green nails, and a warmth entirely unlike his quirk bloomed from the center of Touya’s chest.

Since Hawks’ debut at just seventeen, plenty of videos of him had circulated: flyby shoutouts to fans on the street, meet-and-greet events for merch launches and brand partnerships, talk show appearances, Hero Gala interviews where other heroes had the audacity to use Hawks as little more than eye candy, but none of them had ever captured a moment like this (Touya would know, he’d watched them all).

With his wings draped over the chair, his gloves and visor tossed aside, the animated way he engaged with every kid at the table, Hawks seemed so at ease. This wasn’t Hawks the hero, or Hawks the prop, it was... whoever Hawks was under his hero name (a mystery Touya, and all of Japan, had been puzzling over for years).

How Touya knew that he couldn’t really say. Aside from endless hours spent following the hero’s career online, he hardly knew him. But the feeling that he was right had taken root in his gut and was amplified by a childhood’s worth of time spent watching another hero return home to slip off their mask.

Except… with this hero, they were getting a peek at something special, something truly worth memorializing.

So, as he joined his class to finish their day, hyper-aware of the amber eyes following his every move, Touya vowed to worry a little less about the why and the what and cherish his time with the very unexpected who.

🦋🦋🦋

“Mr. Touya! Hawks needs help with his butterfly again.”

Touya looked up from his own colorful pile of origami butterflies, their last activity for the day, and raised a brow. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm, look” – Kirara pointed to Hawks’ papers, partially folded in what looked to be all the right places – “he’s stuck, and he- I mean, I really think you should come show him how to do it again.”

So that’swhat the other half of the table had been whispering about for the last few minutes.

“Well, if you think he needs help” – Touya pushed his chair back – “then I guess I can’t say no.”

“I’ll do it!” Aki offered, springing to his feet. “Mr. Touya already helped Hawks a bunch.”

“No” — Kirara smacked her forehead — “he needs Mr. Touya to help.”

“But-“

“No buts!” Kirara shot up, fists tight at her sides. “Hawks is super stuck and it has to be Mr. Touya.”

Aki’s ears drooped. Slowly, he sank back down into his chair, eyes on his sneakers.

“I-I mean…” Kirara looked around the room for help, mouth opening and closing without finding the right words.

Touya was not paid enough for this.

 “It’s not...” she tried again, “you’re just-“

Hawks motioned to Kirara to come closer and whispered in her ear. Her face lit up, diamond-like eyes sparkling. “I want you to help me, Aki!”

“Really?” His ears perked up, shifting from sullen to surprised faster than Touya could blink.

Touya leaned back, convinced there was nothing Hawks couldn’t do.

Kirara nodded. “Oh yeah, I’m…” She looked at her own pile of near-perfect butterflies, and then to Aki’s mangled attempts. “Yours look so cool! I want you to show me how you do it.” She scooped up her papers and blew her bangs out of her face. “I’ll swap seats with Mr. Touya so he can sit next to Hawks.”

Coughing to hide a laugh, Touya stood; Kirara’s matchmaking attempts were as heavy handed as they were cute.

With a sheepish smile, Hawks asked, “think you could help me out since Aki’s busy?”

Touya’s legs turned to jelly; it was seriously unfair how easily Hawks could rile a man... or woman. Or anyone with a pulse, really.

But since this was the fourth – fourth – time Kirara had conspired with the other kids (and Hawks, Touya was pretty sure) to get them together during their activities (once during plant identification, once to use Hawks’ wings as a visual representation when Touya explained butterfly anatomy, and twice now for origami), Touya did at least manage not to ignite.

A small victory.

He took a seat between Hawks and Kazu and tried for something smoother than his star-struck silence and fiery temper from earlier. “Only if you promise to listen this time.”

Hawks butted his chair right up to Touya’s, let their arms oh-so-innocently brush together, and batted his lashes. “I promise,” he said, and under his breath, added, “hot stuff.”

Touya craned his neck away to blow out a steamy breath; this man might be the death of them all.

He reached over to grab Hawks’ paper - a cerulean blue he seemed to favor, since all his attempts had been in the same color - and tried to ignore the fact that Hawks’ chin was practically resting on his shoulder. “Fold it in half both ways first, and then fold it in half diagonally both ways.” He demonstrated, following already-perfect folds and a well-exercised muscle memory.

“Collapse the sides in and down, so you’ve got this triangle shape” — feathers brushed the back of his other arm; his breath hitched — “and then fold up the bottom corners of just the top layer.”

Hawks leaned closer. “You’re good at this.”

“Or maybe you’re just really bad,” Touya quipped to distract himself from the heat Hawks’ praise ignited. “Flip it,” he continued, “and fold the bottom up so the tip of your triangle is above the edge.”

“How’d you learn to make these?” Hawks asked, fully leaning against Touya now.

Heat pooled at every point of contact, tempered only by the answer to Hawks’ question.

“My mom,” Touya said quietly, folding the tip behind the top edge, and flipping the paper. “Her and I used to make them together on rainy days.” And days when she was trying to keep his hands busy with something other than fire and his mind focused on what he could do, rather than what he couldn’t.

He flexed his fingers, hiding their tremor as he was swept away in a flood of memories of smiles and laughter, of fragrant blooms and sun-dried dirt, of anger and fire and fear and-

A leg pressed against his under the table, a steady point of focus to pull him back.

Touya rolled the tension from his wrists and lined up the top tips on either side of his paper. “So then, you fold it in half along the cen-“

“Is that why you like butterflies so much?” Kirara asked, “cause of your mom?”

He flattened along the doubled edge of his paper and let it fall open to the shape of a butterfly. “It is.” Grounding himself through Hawks’ touch, he looked at his class and found his smile easier than normal. “My mom had a really big flower garden, and when I was about your age, I used to help her care for it. Do you want to know what she said about the butterflies that came to visit us while we were gardening?”

The kids nodded eagerly, papers partially folded and entirely forgotten.

“She said that when they land on you, it’s the spirit of a loved one stopping by to say hello.”

Like dominoes, six small heads tilted left.

“Kind of like reincarnation,” Touya explained. “Butterflies often symbolize death and rebirth.”

The class ‘oh’d’ in understanding and swiveled in their chairs to look at the butterflies hovering around them. Holding out their arms, they challenged one another to see who could get a butterfly to land on them first – a near-impossible feat when they could hardly sit still this close to the end of class.

“Reincarnated loved ones, huh?” Hawks held his finger out to a Gray Hairstreak that had been floating around him since they’d sat down for origami. “I wonder who this little one is then.”

Touya started on another perfectly folded (and then unfolded) sheet of blue paper. “A favorite grandparent maybe?” he asked, hoping to learn a little about the hero.

“Nah, I didn’t have any of those.”

“Aunt or uncle?”

“Nope.”

“Parents?”

Hawks’ wings lowered. It was a subtle dip, but noticeable with so little space between them and the brush of feathers on skin.

Touya could have (should have) smacked himself; a flimsy verbal filter was no excuse to be so damn rude. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, crushing his paper in half, “I shouldn’t have asked, it’s none of my business.”

“No, no it’s okay. I don’t really” — Hawks looked at the kids, all of them too preoccupied with trying to sweet talk the butterflies into landing on them to pay the adults any attention, and dropped his voice — “I don’t really know my family.”

Touya’s hands stilled. Hawks’ lineage was one of the best kept secrets in Japan, but Touya hadn’t imagined it was because there was no one to speak of. The words tugged at his heart; as far from perfect as Touya’s family was, he at least knew them.

The butterfly landed on Hawks’ finger and slowly spread it’s wings until they lay flat. “I doubt any of these little guys care about me, but it’s a nice thought.” Hawks’ tone was disturbingly cheerful, considering the subject, but Touya supposed that was all part of a hero’s training – show no weakness, harbor no flaws.

It was bullshit.

Touya reached out, praying he wasn’t about to make a bigger fool of himself than he already had today. Hawks had sought Touya out for reasons still unknown, he’d stayed because he wanted to help, he seemed happy to be spending time with the class (and maybe with me, Touya’s delusion added), surely he wouldn’t mind a little gentle reassurance.

Nudging Hawks’ hand into a ray of warm afternoon sunlight a few inches to the right, he said in barely more than a whisper, “he wants to soak up some sun.”

His pulse pounded in his ears. “And” - he gathered his courage with a breath – “even if they don’t care, I do.”

Hawks’ head whipped toward Touya, a movement too jarring for the Hairstreak’s liking. Gray wings fluttered out of sight. “You do?”

Touya swallowed, as terrified of his own feelings as he was exhilarated, and nodded; no taking it back now. Seeds sown by simple attraction had sprouted into something so much more significant in their short time together, and Touya found himself, quite frankly, smitten.

His therapist would not be happy to hear he’d formed another unhealthy attachment to an emotionally unavailable Pro Hero (her words, not his), but was it really that unhealthy if he thought the other party might be a little interested too?

“Well in that case” - Hawks scooted impossibly closer, wings once again perky and grin back in place  – “earlier, I was going to ask if you’d maybe like to go on-“

The shrill ring of a phone cut Hawks off. He sat back, glowering as he dug into his cargo pants pocket, and when he saw who was calling, his expression turned downright fierce – something that probably shouldn’t have excited Touya as much as it did… but who could blame him. He was but a man.

Hawks swore under his breath and shot Touya an apologetic look. “I need to take this. Will you be around for awhile?”

Touya blinked. “I- well, class is over in” — he pulled his own phone out to check — “a few minutes. We need to start packing up, actually.”

“But what about you,” Hawks pressed, ignoring his still-ringing phone. “Will you be here after?”

“I… yeah. I’ll be here for awhile.”

“Perfect.” Hawks stood swiftly and addressed the class. “Sorry kids, I’ve got an important hero call to take” — he wiggled his phone — “and need to head out.”

 A chorus of disappointment responded.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he promised, “so make sure you behave for Mr. Touya for the rest of class.”

Wings tucked tightly at his back, shoulders stiff, Hawks took the call and headed for the exit.

And the house, for the first time in Touya’s career, felt a little dimmer than usual, like Hawks had taken a bit of the sunshine with him.

“Alright, guys,” Touya sighed and pushed his half-finished butterfly aside, “let’s pack up and go meet your parents up front.”

🦋🦋🦋

It took Touya nearly an hour to return to the house.

Word of Hawks’ appearance had spread through the Nature Center like wildfire. Stopped by every coworker as he led his class to the lobby, and then bombarded with questions from every parent, he had confirmed – several dozen times – that yes, Hawks was their guest hero, yes, he would be back tomorrow, and yes, Touya would take last minute additions to Little Explorers (his need for a successful class outweighed his desire to be petty). And when one of the directors overheard the news, he was forced to confirm another dozen times that Hawks was indeed doing the appearance for free.

Back at the tables in the house, Touya pushed aside a pile of paper butterflies to set down his thermos of lukewarm coffee and box of Palos. Careful not to let his limited-edition keychain catch on his pants, he tugged his keys from his pocket and broke through the tape sealing his box. A handful of Ruby Swallowtails (the only red wings left in the house) hovered around his head, watching as he gently pulled out the paper envelope inside and propped it open.

Now, to wait.

He sank down in a chair, legs aching as his adrenaline wore off, and gathered a warm breath behind his lips. Eyes on the visor and gloves Hawks left behind, Touya blew into his coffee to warm it up (so what if it was only an hour away from dinner time, it’s not like he’d sleep tonight anyways).

He’d been so wrong about Hawks.

Not the physical part. Up close and without a filter, Hawks was strikingly handsome - a perfect dichotomy of sharp and soft with his wide smiles and high cheekbones, with those malar-like stripes framing joy-crinkled eyes, with his feathers fluffed to help the kids forget exactly what they were capable of.

No, Touya had been wrong about who Hawks was; there wasn’t an arrogant bone in his body. Unlike Chameleon: The Camouflage Hero Iguchi had brought in for his Reptile Rangers event last month, Hawks had actually participated in Touya’s event. Happily, even. Nothing, and more importantly, no one here was beneath him. And this morning, when another hero would have seen a tally to add to their citation quota, Hawks had only seen bravery.

Hawks was the kind of hero - the kind of man Touya had never met before – genuine, unselfish, supportive.

God he would make a good boyfriend.

Touya jolted upright; what the hell was he thinking? This was Hawks he was talking about. Hawks. The man voted Most Eligible Bachelor for five years in a row, the model for every major brand lucky enough to secure a contract with him, winner of the Hero Billboard Chart’s popularity vote by massive margins since his debut. Flirty nicknames and a tendency to prefer Touya’s personal space to his own aside, Hawks could do so much better than a butterfly keeper with an unreliable quirk.

Hell, Touya couldn’t even say for sure if Hawks was into guys, the few rumors he’d heard were shakier than his relationship with his dad.

It was probably better for his head (and his heart) to stay in his own league. There was that IT guy the Center contracted with. He’d mentioned going for coffee a few times while he helped Touya make a page for his event. Though — Touya slouched back down in his chair — that guy (Tomo? Teno?) was no Hawks.

 A silvery-blue wing caught his eye, and Touya tossed aside all thoughts of his love-life (or lack of) to sip his coffee and watch his Palos emerge.  

Maybe staying single was best. Just a man and his butterflies.

🦋🦋🦋

An hour later, when all of his Palos Verdes had left the envelope and he was sure they were all healthy enough to fly and eat, Touya had thrown an apron over his gray v-neck and moved on to one of his least favorite housekeeping jobs – garden maintenance. With a gloved hand, he wiped the sweat running down his brow and cursed the west-facing windows of the house. In the summer, the dying sunlight always turned the room into a sauna, and while Touya’s butterflies loved it, his body was not as appreciative of the spike in temperature.

On his hands and knees, he reached under lavender Azalea clusters to prune a few dead branches, grumbling once again about his sore glutes to no one in particular, when-

“Well, hello.”

Touya rocked back to crouch, over-balanced, and landed flat on his butt. “Christ, give a man some…” his eyes trailed up tan cargo pants framed by red wings, up the lethal fit of a black and yellow compression shirt, up until they met the last person he expected (or wanted) to see when his ass was sticking out of a bush and his hands were elbow deep in plants and fertilizer.

He scrambled to his feet and tried to brush clumps of what he hoped were just dirt from his apron.

“Sorry.” Hawks offered the same sheepish smile as before. “I meant to come back sooner, but… well…” Hawks rubbed his neck with one hand, leaving the other behind his back. “I got a little sidetracked.”

“That’s…”

Okay? Fine? Unimportant because you did come back and that’s all that really matters since I was beginning to think that you’d either gotten in trouble or maybe were a very vivid hallucination from a stress-filled day.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Touya said, settling for simplicity. “I’m guessing someone wasn’t happy you decided to stick around here?”

“No, they weren’t but that doesn’t matter. I told them I’m staying for the week.” He shrugged, both hands behind his back now. “That’s not what took me so long though. I got you something.”

Touya’s pulse perked up.

“I… I um-“

Was… was Hawks blushing?

“I really don’t want to get interrupted again, so…” Hawks pulled his hands out from behind his back. With them came the most beautiful bouquet of flowers Touya had ever seen - blue roses that matched his eyes, vibrant yellow cornflowers, a few forget-me-nots that brought heat to his eyes, heart-shaped anthurium sticking up from the back. “This is why it took me so long to get back. I went to every florist in a fifty-mile radius to find out wh-“

Flowers. Those are flowers. In a bouquet. For…

“ – they really got tired of my questions. But well, these are for you… I, uh, I tried to pick ones that your butterflies would like, too.”

For me!?

Static sounded between Touya’s ears.

Hawks rubbed his neck again, cheeks a vibrant red to match his wings now. “You’re quieter than usual.”

Holy shit. Holy Shit. Holy-

“Did I mess up?”

Holy shit. Holy Shit. Holy Shit. Holy Shit. Holy Sh-

“Touya?” Hawks stepped closer, brows furrowed. “You good?”

Touya saw, rather than felt, his hands pull off his gloves, his arms lift to take the bouquet. Heat flooded his body as he eyed the flowers, all of them so perfectly picked and arranged, blooms at the peak of their beauty.

“So, what do you think?” Hawks asked, his voice a touch high. “Do you like-“

Touya turned Hawks back toward the door. He needed time to find his voice. Time to process what was happening here. Time to snuff out rapidly rising flames of affection. Time to get his swarming thoughts and thundering heart back together in the same body.

He gave Hawks a gentle shove.

“Oh, okay?” Hawks played along.

Pushing Hawks all the way back into the vestibule, Touya stepped away to let the doors between them close and turned his back.

“Fuck that’s cute,” he whispered to the flowers.

That he’d just kicked Hawks out was a very distant worry for Touya right now. He had flowers. Flowers from Hawks. Had anyone ever gotten flowers from Hawks? Touya didn’t think so. He held the bouquet a little tighter.

“You know,” Hawks said, his amusement muffled as he spoke from the other side of the glass door, “I can still see you.”

Touya’s control broke. His quirk flared to life, a beautiful blue end to the first flowers he’d ever received.

The doors slid open again and Hawks’ laughter, bright as a bell, snapped Touya out of his stupor. “I… I’m so sorry.” Touya looked at the ashes falling through his fingers. “I didn’t mean to. You got those for me, and it was so sweet, and I just… I torched them. Fuck I’m such an idiot.”

“I thought it was kinda cute.”

Touya’s head snapped up. “Cute?” Was Hawks not well? Had he taken too many hits to the head?

“Cute,” Hawks confirmed, pulling the remains of the paper wrapping from Touya’s hands and sliding his own into them. “It’s like you wear your heart on your sleeve. Or, in your quirk, I guess. It’s cute.”

Alright, Hawks was definitely unwell, but – Touya let his fingers close around Hawks’ – not unwelcome. Not at all.

“I guess I should have told you why I was here before I handed you something flammable,” Hawks mused. “That’s on me.”

Touya could only blink. Breathe. Feel the callouses on Hawks’ thumb as it absentmindedly brushed his knuckles.

“I followed you here earlier because, well I wanted to ask if you were single.” That blush was back, and oh was red a beautiful color on Hawks. “And if you said yes,” he carried on, “I wanted to ask if you’d like to go get coffee. Well, dinner now, I guess.”

“That’s what you followed me here for?” Touya whispered in disbelief. “But… why? You hardly know me.”

Mentally, Touya smacked himself. What the hell is wrong with you, Touya? Just say yes!

Hawks seemed ready for the question, though.

“I know enough.” Hawks looked Touya in the eye and held his hands tighter. “I know this morning, you acted like more of a hero than most of the Pros I know. I know that you’re strong and capable and feisty. I know you’re downright adorable with kids and devoted to protecting some of the most fragile creatures on this world when most would turn a blind eye.”

Touya was pretty sure his jaw was holding on by a single hinge. He worked it closed again.

“But I want to know more. Everything.” Hawks’ chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “So, are you single?”

Touya managed a nod; Hawks’ wings fluttered ever-so-slightly.

“Then… can I take you out to dinner?”

“I’m not dressed for dinner.”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“It doesn’t matter to me what you wear.”

“I’m covered in fertilizer.”

Hawks chuckled. “It’s hot.”

“It definitely is not.” The side of Touya that had fallen hard and fast for Hawks warred with the side that still – even after years of therapy - didn’t think he was good enough for a hero. “A-and what about my butterflies?”

“Oh!” Hawks cocked his head to the door, and for a minute they stood in silence. “One second.”

Hawks stepped through the inner door, made a show of making sure it was fully closed first, and then pulled the outer door open to let in a cloud of red. “I think I got them all,” he said proudly when he stepped back into the house with several dozen feathers in tow, each one gently curled around a butterfly. “I brought back a few that slipped out with me earlier too.”

One by one, the feathers released their captives. Most of the butterflies darted into the nearby bushes seeking safety.

“I think they’re okay. Their heart beats are a little fast.” His feathers zipped back to rejoin his wings. “I’m no expert on butterfly physiology though, so maybe that’s normal.”

Touya held out a hand to the Painted Lady flying in circles around him and stood still as stone. Landing in his palm, the butterfly closed its wings to rest.

“So… dinner?” The hope in Hawks’ voice hung between them. Hawks wasn’t giving up, and Touya would be lying if he said that didn’t start the first stitch on some torn part of him that even therapy couldn’t mend.

“Alright.” A smile slowly spread across his lips; enough self-sabotage. “I’ll go.” He set the butterfly down on the nearest leaf, and decided not to tell Hawks the house didn’t have any Painted Ladies before now. “Let me ditch my work stuff and grab my keys.”

Quickly, but not so quick as to look overly eager (even if he was), Touya hung his apron near the door, washed up in the sink at the back of the house, swiped his keys and Hawks’ left-behind things from the table, and swapped the worn leather work boots for his good ones.

“Where do you want to go?” He asked, trying, for the second time, to get the damn key in the outer door to lock the house up. “There’s only one place in town.” His stomach (now gnawing on itself at the mention of food and the memory of every meal skipped today), growled very loud, and very embarrassingly. 

”I hope you don’t mind” — Hawks cleared his throat — “but I already booked it for a private dinner.”

“Booked…” The lock, and Hawks’ meaning, clicked into place. Touya turned. “You booked the entire restaurant? What if I had said no?”

“Well, I guess I would have eaten by myself. But I was pretty sure…” he trailed off, and when Touya noticed where Hawks’ gaze had landed, he immediately shoved his keys into his pocket.

“I know that keychain. There were only-“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He breezed past Hawks toward the lobby, steaming.

“I didn’t see you at the signing though.” Hawks trailed him with irritating ease. “I knowI would remember you if you’d been there.”

“Shut it, or you’ll be eating alone.” Touya walked faster, trying to get outside before he combusted. The rest of his coworkers might have gone home for the night, but the fire alarm worked perfectly fine after hours, and he did not want to cause that kind of scene in front of Hawks.  

Hawks beat him to the door, holding it open with a heart-stopping smirk. “Don’t worry, if you accidentally melt that one,” he pulled his own keys out and jangled them to show off a matching keychain, “I’ve got a few spares. I’ll even sign the hoodie.”

Arm cocked, Touya was about to elbow Hawks as he stepped out, but…

“You’ll sign my hoodie?”

“I’ll sign anything you want, hot stuff, as long as you promise to give me a chance.”

Touya pretended to think it over as they walked to the parking lot, trying (and failing) to play it cool. “Alright, hero,” his words came out in a steamy cloud, “I’ll give you a chance.”

(As if he could say no).

🦋🦋🦋

The following day, every seat in Touya’s Little Explorers Class was filled.