Chapter Text
(CW: alcohol, mentions of abuse, sort of NSFW will add on as I go)
Wait...what did he say?
Dabi wasn’t sure he heard Hawks correctly before he slipped into his drunken sleep. Those three words, three words he hadn’t heard in years from even his shit family, and there they were, back ringing in his ears.
It all started when he had to pick up the drunk idiot a few hours ago. He only brought Hawks to his overpriced loft in the city after a few obviously inebriated texts hinted at the fact that the pro hero was at his favorite hole-in-the-wall bar that didn’t ask too many questions: no press to ruin his clean “Model Hero” reputation. Hawks was the mouthy kind of drunk, loose-lipped and handsy Hawks showed up usually two shots in. Dabi was afraid he would let something important slip about the League to the wrong ears, so with an annoyed “damn lightweight”, he stumbled into the city with a black hoodie and a mask to go looking for Hawks, knowing that this wasn’t the first and certainly not the last time he would go to rescue him from doing something stupid while wasted.
It didn’t take Dabi very long to find him; the Winged Hero stuck out like a sore thumb among the other patrons of the bar, loudly (and rather poorly) singing along to Lil Nas X as his windblown hair bobbed back and forth. Some other guy was sitting next to him, clearly trying to flirt with him but the blonde was too occupied singing to even pay attention. Dabi rolled his eyes, walking over to the other bar patron and placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Move.” He said coldly. Naturally, the patron swatted his hand away with an irritated expression, meeting eyes with Dabi with a sneer.
“What, you his boyfriend or something?” He slurred. Underneath the mask, Dabi fought off a blush. Of course not. It wasn’t the fact that Dabi //didn’t// feel anything towards the hero, they just had something like a friends-with-benefits style relationship. A hookup here and there just to satisfy their own needs, a quick fuck when needed and then they’d go watch bad slasher films from the eighties. Just casual, no strings attached, that’s it.
Alright, maybe there were a few strings attached, but Dabi would be //damned// if he admitted that to Hawks’ face.
“Nah, he’s my emotional support twink. Now, move.” Dabi said, impatiently shoving the patron out of his barstool, sitting down next to Hawks as golden eyes finally fell on him. A wide grin spread across his face as he held out his arms, pulling Dabi into a quick but tight hug as he laughed loudly, pressing his face into his chest.
“My knight in emo armor came for me after all!” He cheered, the smell of overpriced alcohol on his breath. “Gimme kiss!” Hawks puckered his lips playfully, making smooching noises as Dabi fought to escape him.
“Absolutely not, you goddamn lightweight. How many did you even have tonight?” Dabi growled, trying to push him off. For someone completely wasted, Hawks had an iron grip on him.
“One...two...skip a few…” The blonde slurred. Finally, he just shrugged, a dumb grin on his face as Dabi stared at him in utter disbelief.
“That’s it Birdie, I’m cutting you off. I’m taking you home.” He said, fighting Hawks off and grabbing his wrist, pulling him out of the bar as the drunken one of the pair pouted. Dabi pulled out his phone, trying to pull up Hawks’ saved address with directions. A left, a right, straight for a few blocks...damn, this place was in an expensive district, how much did pros make again?
His thoughts were cut off again by Hawks’ loud singing intermingled with laughter, his attention now on the hero sliding down a street pole like a dancer.
“Dabi, Dabi look! CAlll me byyy yourrrr naAaammeee…” Hawks sang cheerfully, sliding down with a surprising amount of grace.
“What the hell are you doing?! Get down before I fry your ass!” He shouted, pulling Hawks away from the pole with a firmer grip than before. Any more of this and he would have to put him on a leash.