Thread by @spacedaichi, hawks is, strangely, already in bed when dabi slinks into the apartment [...]

hawks is, strangely, already in bed when dabi slinks into the apartment at nearly 1am after meeting some recruit he can’t even remember the name of.

hawks is in bed, but still awake enough to greet dabi after dabi has stripped himself of his clothes and

put himself into a pair of joggers and a t-shirt that hawks had laid out on the bed. like the t-shirt, and hawks, had been expecting dabi to show up without preamble. like this is a normal thing. like they’re getting into a routine.

dabi is a bit scare of the fact they’ve begun

to fall into routines like this—like dabi making coffee in the morning for hawks before hawks zips off and before he can pollute his body with an unhealthy amount of canned coffee; like hawks leaving a light on in the kitchen if dabi isn’t back yet because he expects

dabi to be back. no one, in many years, has ever expected dabi to come /back/. outside of the league there’s not been a molded place in a bed for him, but he can already see the sunken part of hawks’ bed where his own body is beginning to make a home. they, without so much as a

word gave each other a “side” of the bed—and there’s hawks curled under the sheets on his side (the right side) facing towards the door as dabi entered. anytime dabi comes in, or they get in bed together, hawks starts by facing the door.

dabi did the same thing for many years—fell asleep facing the entrance (exit) in case he needed to wake up at a moments notice and leave: in case someone came at him in the night. he thinks hawks does the same thing. even in his own home, hawks still feels on edge

and watches the door for dangers.

dabi shakes off the chill that settled in his bones after shedding his clothes because hawks is a fucking psychopath and keeps his apartment like a frozen hell—and dabi who already runs cold and is usually okay with colder temperatures,

would prefer a moderate temperature to try and keep his body regulated. ‘try’ being the key word.

“why’re you still awake?” dabi asks as he slips into bed, ready to press his body against hawks’ unnaturally warm one.

“waiting for you,” hawks murmurs sleepily, turning away from the open bedroom door finally to face dabi.

dabi watches hawks for a minute in the glow of the bedroom lamp light. hawks blinks slowly at him, golden eyes all soft and warm like syrup in the summer.

“were you?” dabi asks, pulling the covers over himself, and reaching over hawks’ body—getting a brief feeling of the warmth radiating off of him—before clicking the lamp over so they’re thrown into darkness.

“yeah,” hawks whispers and the sound and breath falls against dabi’s

chest from the neck of his t-shirt.

“don’t you have an early patrol in the morning?” dabi asks, but he already knows. he remembers each patrol hawks mentions—part of that routine he’s unwittingly dropped into. almost how hawks knows when he typically meets with recruits

or has god knows what other kinds of meetings.

“yep,” hawks sighs, but then dabi feels hawks’ arms loop around his middle, drawing dabi in close.

he melts almost immediately in the warmth that surrounds him, and hawks sighs as dabi’s cool skin meets his own.

“should have gone to sleep then,” dabi whispers, letting his own arms drape over hawks and pulling him into his chest.

“told you,” hawks mumbles, a sleepy-comfort haze making his tone sound lethargic, “wanted to wait for you.”

dabi huffs against the top of hawks’ hair that tickles his jaw. dabi shifts a bit so his cold feet wrap where they can around hawks’ legs, only for hawks to jolt at the chill.

“god,” hawks groans against where his face is pressed to dabi’s neck, “you’re so fucking cold.”

“you love it,” dabi says without thought, clenching his jaw a second later at the easy way the words left his mouth—so easy. another simple routine.

hawks hums and dips his nose against dabi’s scarred neck. “i do, huh?”

dabi lifts one of his hands to tentatively brush over the nubs on hawks’ back that are free and stripped of his feathers. he brushes at the skin between the bumps, feels hawks full-body-shiver against him.

hawks’ legs shift as if they could get any closer to dabi’s own,

moving to expose more of his skin to dabi’s chilled feet.

“like an icebox, guess i don’t need AC anymore,” hawks mumbles, even quieter than his earlier words as he draws closer to sleep.

dabi gulps before asking, “you plan on keeping me around so long you don’t need AC?”

“yeah,” hawks says—as easy as dabi’s own words. so simply and straightforward like nothing besides that one word would be taken for truth. then hawks decides to gut punch him even more with his next words: “i want to keep you around forever.”

his chest opens up, feels like

it gapes open for the entire world to see even though it’s just the two of them here in hawks’ bedroom—but he feels like hawks can see every bit of himself, even the parts he wished he couldn’t see.

“that long?” dabi whispers.

“that long,” hawks’ replies, and that’s that.

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