Work Text:
Shigaraki was giving the journalists before him his best resting murder face. He might have willingly volunteered to cover Touya’s sorry ass because the man got a first place finish, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
“Why did Todoroki leave so suddenly after the race?” The very first question, and he wasn’t even surprised.
“Had to go visit his fiancé in hospital. Next.”
There was a tangible pause before the next question—a rare occurrence, considering they were usually fired off at a rapid, unstoppable pace. “Are you saying Todoroki continued to race despite Takami’s devastating crash and his fiancé being in the hospital?”
“Takami is his fiancé,” Shigaraki corrected absently, not really caring for the shocked outcry of the press at this new development. “He continued to race for the Constructors’ Championship and because of something about Takami being mad if he dropped out.” There was a split second moment of consideration before he added, “I might have to deck Takami in the face at the beginning of each race if this is how Todoroki drives when Takami’s injured.”
Hawks wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when he showed up to the next pre-race press conference in a walking boot and hands so heavily bandaged that he couldn’t even hold the microphone properly. He wasn’t actually racing, so he wasn’t quite sure why he had even bothered to show up.
(He knew why. It was because both he and Dabi owed Shigaraki one for letting Dabi go so quickly after the race. The least they could do was handle the press fallout, especially considering Shigaraki had a penchant for making things worse when it came to the media.)
The very first question was directed at Dabi, and was one that Hawks easily saw coming.
“What do you think led to your incredible performance last weekend?”
Dabi stared at the reporter for a long, long moment before he raised the microphone to his mouth. “I had just watched my fiancé get pulled out of a devastating accident where he was on fire for over a minute. I kind of wanted to get to the hospital as fast as possible.”
An awkward silence followed that answer.
“Touya,”—Dabi’s nose twitched, and Hawks could relate; neither of them had ever quite gotten used to the way western reporters used everyone’s given name—“considering your first place finish last weekend, what can we expect from you next season?”
“I plan to renew my contract with the LoV,” he responded smoothly. “Unless I plan on moving to the back of the grid, there aren’t any open seats for me to move to. Besides, a single first place finish doesn’t guarantee me any interest.”
Hawks immediately jumped in. “Dabi joining a top team would be an actual nightmare. He’s already a stupidly talented prick; driving for Ferrari and winning Grand Prixs is literally all I have left over him.” Some of the journalists chuckled, which was a good ice breaker. Hawks cracked an easy smile. “And before anyone asks, no, I’m definitely not racing today. I just got special permission to be here since I’m sure there’s a lot of questions after last week’s Grand Prix.”
There was an almost guilty silence from some of the reporters, and Hawks felt his lips curl ever so slightly in satisfaction.
“I’ll just lay out some of the basic facts for you now. Yes, me and Touya have been in a relationship for several years. We kept this to ourselves because we didn’t want our relationship to be a point of discussion or contention in the media, because what should ultimately matter is our driving, not our relationship. No, we did not intend on going public, not until we both retired, at least. What happened last weekend was honestly a freak accident that had both of us worried, and Shigaraki doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut. I won’t be taking any further questions on this matter. This press conference is meant to be about the race, not about our personal lives. Thank you.”
There was a moment of silence.
“How would you say your relationship has affected your performance on track?”
Toga, sitting on the other end of the couch, chin propped in her palm and microphone dangling uselessly from her other hand, burst out laughing, entirely too amused by the situation for Hawks’ liking.
“Vultures, all of them,” Dabi muttered under his breath once they finally left the conference. Hawks was fairly certain the other would have stormed off had he not been endearingly concerned about Hawks’ walking boot.
“You’re cute when you scowl,” he cooed, poking at Dabi’s cheek. Dabi rolled his eyes and batted Hawks’ hand away gently, adorably conscientious of the wrapped burns.
“So where are you watching the race?” Dabi asked, evidently choosing to change the subject instead of allowing Hawks to continue needling him.
Hawks shrugged. “The Ferrari garage, probably. Shigaraki tolerates me, but he’s not going to let me spend time in the LoV garage during a race if he can help it. Enji also wants the team to see me in person to know I’m okay.”
Dabi clicked his tongue in annoyance at the mention of his father. “He can fuck right off.”
“What else is new?” Hawks muttered rhetorically, only for Dabi to surprise him by actually answering.
“Well, it’s probably for the best you stick to the Ferrari garage for now anyway. Shigaraki’s been a bitch this week.”
“You say that every other day.”
“Yeah, no, but-” Dabi made a face as he held the door open for Hawks and they were hit with the cold winter air. “Apparently we’ve been in talks with Mercedes over a sponsorship for a while, and my win last weekend solidified it somehow.”
“Ah, shit,” Hawks said flatly. “You’re telling me that ballsy comment I made about the only thing I have over you is driving for Ferrari winning Grand Prixs is gonna make me look like an idiot now? Look at you, driving for Mercedes .”
Dabi snorted. “We’re having a name change to the League of Mercedes-”
“Oh my god, that’s hilarious-”
“-next season, and Shigaraki’s been throwing a fit about it because he thinks it sounds stupid.”
“That’s because it does sound stupid.”
“I’m not saying it doesn’t.” Dabi grabbed the scooter that had been left by the stairs and braced a foot on it, patiently waiting for Hawks to balance on the back end and wrap his arms around his waist. “I’m saying that he’s taking it personally and it’s super funny.”
Hawks snorted and hummed in agreement, resting his chin on Dabi’s shoulder as he pushed off and headed back towards the pits. “But I’ll be cheering you on,” Hawks said eventually, voice muffled by the rush of the wind in their faces.
“Oh, now you’re cheering me on?” Dabi asked scathingly, shrugging his shoulder to jostle Hawks’ head in retaliation.
“I mean, I’ll cheer you on as long as you don’t beat me. Then it’s personal.”
Dabi clicked his tongue. “And here I thought we had something special.”
“We do!” Hawks said cheerily. “I just want to establish a clear hierarchy with me on top so you stop making fun of me for being short.”
“That’s because you are.”
“Fuck off.” Dabi laughed, and Hawks sighed. “Can you drop me off at the garage? I don’t feel like walking all the way down.”
For a moment, Hawks worried that Dabi might have been tempted to say "no" out of spite, but luckily the concern over his injuries that he had been cooing over for the entire week worked in his favor. “Fine,” Dabi muttered as they turned into the pits.
Hawks tightened his arms around Dabi’s waist as the scooter sped down the pit lane. He felt Dabi smirk as they approached Geten, who was heading towards his own garage.
“Down the back end straight as Todoroki gets DRS,” Hawks muttered into his ear. Dabi snorted and bit his lips to keep himself from smiling as he gave the scooter another push, gaining speed. “Geten tries to defend, but Todoroki cuts to the right hand side!” Hawks cheered as Dabi zipped to the side and around Geten.
“What the fuck?” came the confused question from the other racer as Dabi and Hawks sailed past.
“Todoroki has overtaken Geten and swoops into the lead of the race!”
“We’re in the pit lane, dumbasses!” Geten shouted after them, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice, but they paid him no mind as they burst out laughing.
The pit lane wasn’t excessively long, so it didn’t take more than a few more moments for them to arrive at the Ferrari garage at the far end of the pit lanes, only to be met with a sight that Hawks had been wanting to avoid for just a little longer.
“Takami,” Enji, the Ferrari team principal, said in a carefully neutral tone. Hawks forced a smile on his face as hopped off the scooter, shifting his weight awkwardly as he was forcibly reminded of the walking boot.
“Todoroki-san!” Hawks chirped even as Dabi made a disgusted noise from behind him. “How are you on this fine, fine day? Good, I hope? Great talk, I need to get going-” Hawks did his best to skirt around Enji, but was effectively stopped by a hand gripping his arm.
“I need to have a talk with you first,” Enji growled, and Hawks felt a pit of dread open up in his stomach, considering that that was exactly what he’d been hoping to avoid.
“Alright,” Dabi said lightly, turning his scooter around. “You two have fun with that, I’ll just be going-”
“Touya, you are not exempt from this conversation-” Enji started, at the same time Hawks cried out in protest,
“I swear to god, if you leave me here alone-”
Dabi cut them both off by racing away without hesitation, waving over his shoulder as he shot off down the pit lanes, and calling back, “Sorry old man, gotta get ready for the race!”
Hawks huffed, shouting after him, “Touya, I want a divorce!”
“You’ll have to marry me first!” came the distant, echoing reply. Mechanics and drivers up and down the pit lane had stopped to look back and forth between them. Hawks had, on some level, been expecting it, following the events of the previous weekend, but it didn’t make him any less embarrassed (although there was a part of him that felt giddy about finally being able to reference being in a relationship with Dabi in public).
“YOU’RE SLEEPING ON THE COUCH!” he yelled back.
Dabi didn’t deign him with a response that time, only laughing as the tiny speck of his figure ducked into the LoV garage. Hawks sighed fondly, before the clearing of a throat from behind him made him acutely aware of the major problem he had briefly forgotten about.
“So,” Enji didn’t sound amused, and it was probably only from so many years of dealing with the press that Hawks didn’t shrivel up and die beneath his boss’ withering glare. “You’re engaged to my son?”
Hawks chuckled nervously, shooting the man finger guns as he slowly stepped away. “Ahaha, um, funny story, actually.”
“Please,” Enji said without any intonation. “Make me laugh.”
Hawks felt his smile strain further and a cold sweat broke out across his back. He was going to fucking die.
“Hawks?” Rumi asked, clear confusion in her voice. Hawks grunted in response, not opening his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing in my prep room?”
“Hiding from the boss. He’s trying to eviscerate me with his eyes.”
“Oh, right, he knows about you two now. Forgot about that. Yeeeaaah, you’re really lucky this is the last race of the season.”
Hawks groaned, slumping in his chair as he opened his eyes to stare despairingly at the ceiling. “I should’ve taken my chances and stuck around the LoV garage. At least then I can count on Kurogiri to keep the team principal from murdering me.”
“Just go to the Yuuei garage, they’re way too fucking nice. Watch there. Aizawa will keep you from getting murdered.”
Hawks groaned and looked at Rumi pleadingly. He didn’t want to walk past Enji again on his own.
He was given no mercy, however, and Rumi simply pointed at the door of her prep room. “Get the hell out.”
Hawks really should've taken his chances with Rumi.
Or not, since he felt the vague threat of getting murdered everywhere he went so far. He’d forgotten how unnerving Nedzu was: his downfall. The Yuuei team principal had simply given him a too-bright smile and said that of course he could watch the race in their garage! Aizawa had grunted at him as he went past, and Hawks almost cried from relief—everyone in Yuuei was suspiciously nice, except for the beam of light (darkness?) that Aizawa emitted.
However, he didn’t have time to talk to the man, as he was setting up his station for the race, so Hawks instead migrated his way over to the viewing screens, lighting up once he realized who was there.
“Tokoyami!” he cheered, jumping forward and wrapping his arms around the young driver before he had a chance to jump away. “Aww,” he cooed, ruffling Tokoyami’s dark hair. “I didn’t know you were being scouted by Yuuei!”
“It’s just a possibility,” Tokoyami wheezed, pushing himself out of Hawks’ bone breaking hug. “It’s much more likely that they’ll go with Midoriya or Todoroki-” he paused, face twisting up. “The other… Shouto.” Hawks snorted, though he didn’t comment on Tokoyami’s struggle. There were far too many Todoroki’s involved in Formula One to keep track of—part of the reason why it would be better if he never took Dabi’s name.
“C’mon, don’t talk yourself down like that!” Hawks chirped, going to to slap the other on the back before suddenly remembering his hands were covered in bandages. “You’re a great driver, you just need to have confidence in yourself!”
Tokoyami hummed in assent, although he averted his eyes and ducked his head under the praise, and Hawks found himself wishing his hands weren’t bandaged to hell and back so that he could pinch his red cheeks. “So,” Tokoyami coughed into his fist, clearly looking to change the topic. “You and Dabi?”
Hawks sighed, settling himself down in one of the folding chairs and staring absently at the screens showing the formation lap. “That’s what everyone wants to know about, isn’t it?”
“No, I-” Tokoyami clasped his hands together and bowed awkwardly. “Congratulations on your engagement.”
Hawks blinked in surprise, taking a few moments to process the words before he relaxed, a smaller, more genuine smile crossing his face. “Thanks, Tokoyami. I appreciate it.” Tokoyami gave him a firm nod as he sat down in the chair next to Hawks.
There was a comfortable silence as the cars on screen settled into the grid, and the marshal with the green flag began walking across the track. Hawks looked over at Tokoyami consideringly.
“What do you say to being the flower boy?”
Tokoyami’s choked response was drowned out by the roar of engines as the last race of the season began.
Dabi sighed, pulling out the steering console and clambering out of the car. Power unit failure, what a surprise. He’d at least finished the race, but walking back was not gonna be fun. He’d barely had time to lament his situation before Toga’s car rolled to a halt on the side of the track where his own vehicle died.
Over the roar of the crowd, she screamed at him, “GET IN LOSER, WE’RE GOING SHOPPING!”
Dabi couldn’t help the snort that escaped his throat, but at least his helmet covered the grin that slowly spread across his face as he jogged over to her car. He awkwardly clambered on, hooking a leg into the cockpit and wrapping an arm around the halo to keep himself from falling off as Toga drove them to the end.
He was gonna get so much shit from the safety stewards for this.
The stewards did, in fact, give him a nasty glare as they went to the parc ferme, and he and Toga made their way over to get weighed. Looking over at the podium finishers, it felt odd to not see Hawks getting interviewed by the press, or at least not milling about with the other drivers. Still, it was nice to see Hawks waiting for him as he went back to the paddock, lingering outside of the LoV hospitality.
“Hey,” Hawks said, giving him a grin. “P7, not bad.”
“Could be better,” Dabi muttered sullenly, wiping sweat off his face.
“Well,” Hawks stretched his arms above his head, yawning as he continued talking, “there’s always next season. That’s bound to be exciting, at the very least.”
“Oh yeah,” Dabi muttered absently, sighing as they entered the hospitality and the sweet relief of air conditioning hit his face. “Yuuei’s got open seats, right?”
“Yep.” They shuffled through the room of engineers between them and Dabi’s prep room, carefully avoiding bumping into anyone. “A little birdie told me-”
“Oh, you saw Tokoyami?”
Hawks huffed. “I’m not that see through.”
“That was basically confirmation that you heard it from Tokoyami, so I’d say that yes, you are totally that see-through.”
“I hate you.”
“Mm, love you too,” Dabi said, pecking Hawks on the cheek as he opened the door to his prep room. Nobody batted an eye at their interaction, as their relationship had always been something of an open secret in the LoV team. Hawks supposed he should probably get all those engineers a gift basket for keeping their mouths shut all those years. “Anyway, what’d Tokoyami say?”
“Apparently they’re scouting Shouto for next season. It’s not definite, but it’s a possibility.”
“Oh, people are gonna get really mad about our last name now.”
Hawks gave him a shit eating grin. “Do you think we just don’t tell them I’m not taking your name and see how they freak out?”
“Four Todoroki’s across three different teams? An absolute nightmare. But Amajiki and Hado are talented drivers. If they sign Shouto as anything, it’s probably going to be as a reserve driver.”
“Ah,” Hawks intoned. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“Anyway, I need to go take a shower.”
“And then the race debrief, and team dinner, yada yada, I know the drill.” Hawks kissed Dabi and gave him a sweet smile. “Make sure you use hot water so you relax your muscles, I don’t want you to be too sore tomorrow morning.”
Dabi paused and squinted at Hawks in confusion. “What?”
“Oh, did you forget already? You’re sleeping on the couch.” Dabi balked, and Hawks took sweet satisfaction in the visceral feeling of revenge that flowed through him.
“Wait, I thought you were kidding-”
“I was,” Hawks said smugly. “But then your father demanded me to break up with you, gave me the shovel talk, and told me I wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to his family all in the same conversation, so suffer, bitch.”
“I-”
“Hawks,” Shigaraki snapped, slamming the door to the room open. “Get the fuck out of my team’s hospitality.”
“Sir, yes sir,” Hawks agreed easily, blowing a stunned Dabi a kiss on his way out.
Dabi groaned as the morning sun shone into his eyes. He squeezed them tighter and pulled a pillow over his head.
At least the hotel couch had been a pull out, so his back didn’t feel completely ruined.
He tried to turn onto his side, but was abruptly stopped by a weight on his chest he hadn’t noticed sooner. Peeling the pillow off his face, he looked down at Hawks' sleeping one, smushed against his chest and drooling on his sleep shirt.
Dabi huffed a laugh. He’d probably gotten cold during the night.
He let his head fall back and started running his fingers through his fiancé’s hair.
Next season. That’d be interesting for sure.