#dabihawks bathing together, non-sexual intimacy, little humor, some background angst, and background-implied nsfw

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"At least you're not steaming now," Hawks says to Dabi as he sits himself on the edge of the bathtub.
Dabi lets a humorless breath of laughter through a huff from his nose.

He's leaning back in the bathtub now, looking less of a drowned rat from when Hawks was pouring cold water over him just a few minutes earlier. There's bits of ice floating in the tub, emptied from
the bag of ice Hawks had begun to keep in his freezer. Dabi also looks less frustrated than he'd been when they were first in the process of stopping their bedroom activities––

Dabi has good days, when it comes to overheating, comes to the steaming from his body and
his quirk trying to go haywire with his emotions. His emotions very literally leaking from the seams of his body like a mood ring. He has good days. He has bad days, they'd realized early on together (example A: the amount of sheets Hawks has had to order and buy
from the holes burned into them.) He also has really, really bad days. Today had been one of those days, where he got worked up too quickly and he hadn't been able to stop some of the flames, blue and hot and trying to stretch between himself and Hawks.

Hawks looks over
Dabi now––takes in the pulled down lines of his face, the silent grievance. Instead of hunching forward, staring back at the way his expression looked back him, like he had been earlier, he leaned against the porcelain, his arms stretched over the sides, the
length of his left hand swaying just above the tile of the bathroom floor.

Hawks refrains from nudging his hand with his own bare foot. Hawks himself had quickly pulled on a pair of sweatpants before rushing to help Dabi cool off, letting his feathers begin to turn on the bath
water and also getting the ice. The feathers of his wings are scattered around now though, leaving his back bare to the air of the bathroom.

The bathroom light is off, and Hawks distinctly remembers turning it on while the water ran in the tub and he'd gone to get more water
from the kitchen sink in a couple of pitchers. There's a single window right behind Dabi, situated with its base at the top of the tub, and it sheds shifting moonlight over Dabi's shoulders, over the stretch of his scarring.

"Do you want more ice?" Hawks asks, peeling his eyes
away from Dabi and to the remaining melted ice in the tub.

Dabi's eyes slid open and he feels them watching him, tracing his shape, but Hawks continues to look down into the water, over Dabi's legs and the naked skin.
"No," Dabi says, voice slightly hoarse, before he hears the smirk on Dabi's face as he says: "I think it's time you took a little bird bath though."

"What?" Hawks barely has a chance to look up, before he's being dragged into the cold, cold water.
He lets an ungodly sounding squawk as he sputters in the water and his sweatpants cling to his skin, and Dabi's legs make way under him for his own body. He sputters as his hair clings to face.

He shakes out his now soaked hair, hoping to get Dabi's face wet in return for
pulling him into the tub.

"Dabi, why on earth–" he starts, looking to Dabi through the wet strands of his hair.

He stops, though. Pauses. Because Dabi's smirk
has shifted from his shit-eating grin, far from the earlier agitation, to a soft, almost gentle smile. And with the moonlight dripping from the window behind him, Dabi looks calm. Relieved. Even as he leans and settles back against the tub, and props his face on the
cup of his palm. His eyes in the dark glow, and shine, blue like the hottest stars.

𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵? Hawks wonders.

Then immediately halts the thought.
He can't frame this. He'll never be able to frame the moment in front of him. Despite how badly, how much he craves, to take a picture of Dabi's smile.

But he can't.

Hawks snorts, shaking his head fondly–and sadly. He has this moment right now, but he wishes he could have it
for thousands of forevers. He's not sure if that much time would even be enough––not enough to see the array of smiles Dabi has, all of his telling expressions, the pouts, the exasperation.
This world truly told Hawks, 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴.

And he hadn't even known how much he'd want this. Four years ago, emerging with a hero agency, joining the top 10 heroes: all of that and this was the
most unexpected desire of them all. He truly didn't want to be where he was in the hero rankings either. Maybe––maybe if he'd been just a little slower, the Commission would have kept him back from missing the things he'd never thought were possible.
Now, everyday with Dabi is like saying hello and goodbye. Each hour, every second with Dabi he's preparing himself for a goodbye and holding onto Dabi just a little tighter. Just a little closer. Wrapping Dabi up in his wings in the night, sitting with him in the tub as they are
𝘐𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺? he wonders in the back of his mind, thinks to the passing internet searches he's made on his breaks, looking at images of cabins in far away woods, letting himself for two or three moments consider what running away with Dabi
would be like.

Dabi would never say yes though. And Hawks––despite this want and this craving, would still never ask, and would still think of it as a theoretical.

Hawks sits up in the tub, pulls himself up by the ledge to stand, and peels off the soaking wet sweatpants.
He steps out of them, still feeling Dabi's eyes on him with each movement sloshing the water in the tub. with one final tug, he's free of the sweatpants and drops them to the bathroom tiles with a wet slap.

"You're ridiculous," Hawks says, but he's smiling as he sits
back in the tub, letting his legs tangle with Dabi's in the space between them. At the very least, the HPSC owned apartment in all its grandeur, gave him a nice, large bath.

"Oh, have we moved onto pet names?" Dabi jokes, tapping the fingers of his left hand on the side of the
bath, almost restlessly.

Hawks notices, and reaches in his mind the the feathers laying around–searching (and finding) Dabi's pack of cigarettes. He finds them, and brings them towards the bathroom, placing them with a feather next to Dabi's hand.

++++ (twt limit)
(( god sorry, tbc later 🤞 ))
continuing this!! top of thread here <3 https://twitter.com/spacedaichi/status/1520126977595912192?s=20&t=yYGoL2q6ejHGqcuPGSBRlA
"Pet names," Hawks answers, leaning himself back in the tub, opposite of Dabi. The faucet of the tub sits in the middle edge of the wall, occasionally dripping drops into the water. "We skipped a lot of steps Dabs."

"Did we?" Dabi raises an eyebrow before
taking a cigarette from its pack, and flick a blue flame over his other hand to light it. He breaths in a drag, lets the fire settle in his lungs, cover his insides with the same smoke they'd be dispelling. The smoke falls out of his mouth a moment later, and he tilts his head
back. The slope of his neck, with his scars on display in the dark, is more appealing than Hawks would have ever imagined himself thinking months ago. Dabi props his arm again, and shakes some of the ashes of his cigarette into the tub.

Hawks watches as the ashes dissolve
and sink into the water to settle below their legs. A chill rolls over Hawks' shoulders and down his body, into the water that grows warmer with the two of them in it.

Hawks feels the water around Dabi's legs, near his own, increase in heat. Hawks bumps Dabi's knee with his
own.

"Stop," Hawks sighs––though his chest aches at the act of Dabi wanting to warm up the tub with him in it (despite being the one who dragged him into the water._ "You just cooled off. Both of us in here will warm it up soon enough."
"Suit yourself," Dabi says, sitting his cigarette on his lips again. Hawks watches as he rolls one of his shoulders, and taps on of his feet in the water near Hawks rear. Hawks hums and shifts one of his legs towards Dabi's waist, though as he sinks further in the water–
and water subsequently sloshes over the side onto the floor–he lets his other leg move and settle on top of Dabi's right shoulder. His right hand comes up to sit on Hawks' calf, looking through half-lidded and smoky eyes back to Hawks. The blue of his eyes
through the growing smoke is like looking at the sun on a cloudy day. Hawks knows the sun is there, can see it partially glowing, but he still wants the clouds–wants the smoke–to clear so he can see Dabi's eyes in their entirety. Cloudy days have never been good for him and
flying, seems fitting it wouldn't suit him here either. But still, he gets to watch Dabi. Dabi for the moment is in one piece, sitting in the bath with him, not off trying to die. Here, his long fingers are massaging at his calf muscles, and he's breathing out heady smoke
for Hawks to take back into his lungs.

"Still not sure why you pulled me in here," Hawks says. He can't take his eyes away from the pads of Dabi's fingers working over his skin, drifting up towards his knee.
"Bird bath," Dabi smirks. "Besides, you were working up a sweat in there. Thought maybe you needed to cool off too."

Hawks wrinkles his nose. "If you keep doing that with your hand, I'm going to need more than just cooling off."
Dabi hums. His hand doesn't stop though. The other hand takes his cigarette and lets it hang off the side of the tub again, flicking another round of ashes to the ground and to the water pooling on the floor.

"Did you know," Dabi says, and his eyes slid to find Hawks' gaze,
"you also sweat at night."

Hawks squawks again for the second time that night, jolting at the little jump in conversation. "I do not! Take that back, right now," Hawks says, pushing the foot on Dabi's shoulder
at Dabi's face. Dabi grabs the foot, the ankle, an instant later and holds it next to his face.

"You do," Dabi says, and his breath over Hawks' wet foot is chilling. "No wonder you cling to me at night."

"Your body is 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥," Hawks grumbles, wiggling his toes.
"Mine is 𝘩𝘰𝘵. And don't pretend like I'm the only one who 'clings' at night."

Dabi smiles again. Another framed opportunity missed. Hawks tries not to stare at the smile, at the blinding teeth, shining more in the moonlight seeping into the room.
"Well," Dabi says, "guess I'll cling some more."

And Hawks is startled again when Dabi pulls at his legs and begins maneuvering him so Hawks back is pressed against his chest, and Dabi's right hand is around his waist, and Dabi's legs settle on either side of him.
Hawks lets himself smile as he makes himself at home with Dabi surrounding him. He takes his arms and holds them over Dabi's single one.

"Guess it's a good thing I have a big bath," Hawks says, and Dabi's breath over his neck sends another little shiver down his spine.
He doesn't say anything this time when Dabi's body temperature raises a couple degrees.

Dabi presses his mouth onto the juncture of Hawks' neck, where it meets his shoulder, and Hawks takes the moment to take the cigarette from Dabi's hand and pull it to his own lips.
It tastes like Dabi. It tastes like the room around them, and the smoke long caged in his lungs. It takes like Dabi's fingers in his mouth, and Dabi's mouth on his mouth––it takes like the smiles he'll never be able to frame.
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