#hih

dabi: *stops his eyes on hawks’ belt and quirks his eyebrow*

hawks: ???? what?

dabi: tf is HIH?

hawks: what do you mean? ah, the letters on my belt, they are from Hawks, obviously

dabi: HIH? it doesn’t make any sense, Hawks I - what?

hawks: hawks! just hawks

dabi: fucking heroes... just admit it, it was supposed to be „hawks is hot” but you chickened out

hawks: no, it wasn’t!

dabi: *after hawks didn’t get that he called him hot* ...okay pigeon, fly away, someone will contact you later.

*a few hours later hawks is watching tv at his apartment and has a realization*

hawks: WAIT. HE CALLED ME HOT?!

The food had gotten cold and everyone had already ate when your feet finally clapped against the wooden deck, Eddie behind you, dragging his feet. His strong hands pulling you back by your waist into him- trying to delay the time when he couldn’t touch you the way he wanted.

The little tease in the bedroom wasn’t enough, if anything it only made it worse. Aching cock and all.

He was still whispering filth in your ear, his warm breath sending goosebumps down your spine as he let his tongue slide along the shell of your ear, and you almost cancelled the party right there and then.

The want you two had for each other was primal, all heavy lidded looks and bated breath when you had to be apart. It only made it hotter when you were finally alone.

When you slid open the patio door, he finally obeyed only stopping when his friends shoved a beer into his hand and a joint in his mouth.

Nancy was organizing a clean up crew. Pointing people this way and that to tidy up the yard.

A black crinkly garbage bag glistened against the setting sun in Jonathan’s hands as she guided him behind her tossing paper plates and crushed solo cups in the sack, his eager hands helping out wherever he could.

“Fuckin’ ay Munson,” Dustin griped, shoving a lock of shoulder length curls behind his shoulder. He refused to let you, or anyone, cut his hair, claiming he was growing it out for charity, but you know he was letting to go after his biggest role model, “take long enough why don’t ya.”

“It’s my birthday, asshole,” Eddie scolded, sitting down hard next to him on the picnic bench, ruffling his hair, “I’ll do whatever the hell I want, and if that means a little slap and tickle with my girl, you’ll just have to wait.”

“Yeah ok man we get it,” snarked Mike, sneering behind El’s forgotten bottle of beer, a patchy mustache brimming his upper lip, “didn’t know old people still got it up, considering you’re old enough to get a fuckin’ membership at the senior citizen center.”

“Yeah and you’re ugly enough to trick or treat through the phone, Wheeler.” Eddie jokes, causing the whole table to roar with laughter, flipping Mike off and both of them smirking back at one another.

Gareth stumbled over the steps, greeting his best friend with a big wet kiss on the cheek, already drunk.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday, man, I love you,” he yelled over the roar of party goers, “for real, probably more than Tooty does.” Eddie grabs his friend around the shoulders and pulls him into a hug.

“Thanks brother,” he says, “better take it easy tonight, Tooty will be pissed if you puke on our couch again.”