Chapter Text
Hawks was probably the most boring human being on the planet, Dabi decided. How could he possibly know? Let’s just say he’s been trailing him for a couple months.
No, he wasn’t stalking him, thank you very much. The dumb bird just wanted to join the League, or the PLF, or whatever they were called now. Dabi didn’t give a shit. He had one goal and that was Endeavor taken down. Single-minded? Perhaps, but at least he knew what he wanted. He also wasn’t stupid. Hawks was a spy, he was at least 98% certain. The only way to find out for sure was to follow him.
See? Not stalking. Though Hawks definitely had a few stalkers, Dabi noticed. He supposed that kind of thing came with being the Number 2 Pro-Hero. Fortunately for Hawks, the stalkers weren’t very subtle, and ended up being caught by the police sooner or later. (Dabi made sure to make himself scarce when this went down. Getting caught wasn’t on his to-do list.) Everyone has a hobby, he mused, his just turned out to be arson.
Speaking of hobbies, Hawks had none. Zero. Zip. Nada. The man worked, ate, and slept. To be quite honest, Dabi wasn’t even sure the man slept, unless he passed out from sheer exhaustion frequently and left his lights on every time. He wouldn’t put it past him. They met up more often than not, and when they did, the hero had dark circles and bags under his eyes. If he were doing his regular patrols and his work for the League, he certainly wouldn’t have the time for sleep.
Why he was so worried whether or not birdbrain slept was beyond even him. Dabi couldn’t care less. If the hero worked himself to death, that would be one less asshole to worry about when things went down, and things were definitely going to go down, and Hawks? Hawks was definitely not someone to fuck with. The workaholic wasn’t number two for nothing. He gave every second that he wasn’t with the League to playing the hero.
Which is why, today of all days, Dabi was very surprised to see him walk out of his apartment building in civilian clothes. Dabi didn’t even know Birdbrain owned civilian clothing, much less that he actually wore it. It was a simple pair of jeans, a plain t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers that looked like they hadn’t seen the outdoors a day in their life.
Too clean, he thought, as he peered over his sunglasses.
Hawks wore his own sunglasses in lieu of his usual goggles, and his hair wasn’t as wild as it normally was. He’d styled it, for fuck’s sake.
“What the actual fuck,” Dabi whispered, when Hawks didn’t turn towards his hero agency, and instead took the opposite path towards the entertainment district of the city. Did the hero actually have free time today? Or was he playing a part in some sort of hero investigation?
Dabi would definitely find out, and not because he was trying to make sure Hawks wasn’t a spy. No. The villain was curious, and the curiosity was going to eat him alive if he didn’t satiate it. He made sure his mask was pulled up over his face, pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up, and followed, being sure to leave about a block between himself and the folded pair of red wings in front of him.
What also piqued his interest was that Hawks was walking to his destination, and not flying. He flew everywhere. He’d once joked with Dabi that walking was “beneath him. (Get it? Because of the ground?)” Dabi promptly smacked him around the head for even trying such a god-fucking-awful joke, and then explaining it, of all things. Unfortunately the wallop upside his head did nothing to deter Birdbrain from making jokes nearly constantly. If Dabi had to hear one more dad joke, he was certain he would burst into flames and finally cremate himself into a pile of ashes. That’s how bad they were.
Around six blocks later, Hawks stopped in front of a business in the entertainment district that Dabi knew to be a high-end bar. He looked around nervously, but there was no hiding where the pro-hero was going. Those big ass bright crimson wings have him away to anyone passing by.
He had to give it to the citizens of Fukuoka, however. They didn’t flock to him in droves like people in other areas of the country. The people of the town where Hawks made his home generally left him to his business unless he was out in an official capacity, if this short walk was any indication.
Dabi watched with interest as Hawks gave the little a-stand sign outside the bar a quick read, and then ducked inside. He lingered at the corner of the block for a few moments, ensuring Hawks wouldn’t immediately reappear before making his way to the bar and taking a peek at the sign himself.
His eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. Oh. This was absolutely delightful- the single best thing to happen to Dabi in weeks.
“Craft Draft Speed Dating
¥2000
Come inside and meet your match!
All are welcome”
A little hand-drawn rainbow flag followed after “All are welcome.” The villain snorted. Then, he got an idea- a wonderfully, awful idea. Grinning beneath his mask, he walked into the bar and right up to the event table.
Hawks was, blessedly, nowhere to be found. Good. Dabi wanted to keep his little plan a secret for as long as possible.
The girl sitting at the event table was petite and far too perky for Dabi’s tastes. Her bubblegum-pink hair only added to the effect. She took his name (he lied and gave a fake one) and then his payment, which he just happened to have on him at the time. Originally that money would have been used for cigarettes, but Dabi thought this was a much better, far more entertaining, use of it. She took his contact information, and then started to explain how the event worked.
The rules were fairly simple: each participant had a set amount of time to ask questions of their assigned partner. That amount of time in this case was 8 minutes. A list of suggested questions were provided for the participants. At the end of the event, if you liked someone, you could submit their name to the event organizers, and if the other person did the same, your contact information would be shared.
Harmless enough, he supposed, but why the fuck would someone like Hawks feel the need to meet people this way? Hawks was attractive, well off, and had an outgoing personality to boot. (Dabi wasn’t afraid to admit he found the hero attractive. He had working eyes and his sex drive was functional, despite what some people on the internet believed.) The man shouldn’t need gigs like this to meet someone, even if he wasn’t out to the public.
Bubblegum Hair gave him a number, “Here’s your first table! When the bell rings, you’ll move clockwise. The bar has generously provided a flight of their top-selling craft brews to each participant. You can either enjoy now, before the event, or after. Just show them your number! Have fun!”
He grimaced. Her enthusiasm made him itchy.
“Thanks,” he tipped the number at her, and walked over to the circle of two-top tables set up.
He located his starting spot, and slouched down into the chair, finally removing his sunglasses. The burn scars and staples under his eyes would show, but he didn’t give a damn, maybe it would scare people off and keep them from requesting his contact information. He wasn’t doing this seriously, he reminded himself. He was just here to fuck with Hawks in the 8 minute span he was allowed with him.
The aforementioned list of suggested questions lay on the table before him, and eventually curiosity and boredom got the better of him and he began to read. Some questions were expected, such as:
What are your best characteristics?
What did you go to school for?
Do you like animals?
Those types of questions made Dabi roll his eyes. They were small talk, and he hated small talk. It was a waste of time. Yet, the further down the list he went, the suggested questions got more interesting:
What’s the most reckless thing you’ve ever done?
If you were given ¥5000000 tomorrow and had to spend it all in one day, how would you spend it?
If you could be someone else for a day, who would you be and why?
Those were questions Dabi could get behind. That’s how you really got to know a person. Maybe the organizers of this event weren’t as stupid as he thought. Someone with experience put this list together. He’d add a few things though, if it had been him. Things such as:
Do you find joy in watching buildings go up in flames?
If you were to date a nationally wanted terrorist, who would you choose and why?
Knowing people, they’d take him seriously and actually answer. There were certified villain fuckers out there. He knew because he’d used some of them for a quick lay. Some of them even ended up being enjoyable, and not just in bed.
Shit. Maybe he should scram before he got himself into trouble by actually liking one of these idiots. As he considered tracking down Hawks before the event just to give him a scare, and then bolting, Bubblegum Hair stood up, climbed onto her chair, and directed everyone to their chairs. The event was starting. He sat up, and leaned forward, interested to know who his first match would be, and if they would recognize him. (He doubted it. Most people only saw what they wanted to see.)
A slim built man, way older than Dabi usually went for, slid into the seat opposite him and introduced himself. Dabi immediately forgot the guy’s name and that said everything that needed to be said about the guy: forgettable. He also sucked at conversation, reading questions directly from the paper before him, and picking possibly the most boring ones. Dabi did his best to answer as honestly as he could, because he knew the best way to lie was to stick as close to the truth as possible, and while he didn’t want anyone to know who he was- outside Hawks- he didn’t want to have to weave a whole other persona for this, either.
Several rounds later, Dabi’s eyes were threatening to bleed he was so bored. Every one of these fuckers was terrible. Is this what Hawks was into? Dear god, no wonder he wasn’t in a relationship. Lighting the place on fire just to cause some excitement briefly crossed his mind, but he knew he had to behave here. Behaving also was boring. Everything about this experience was boring. He began to think even the sight of Hawks’s face when he finally got around to him wasn’t going to be enough to make up for the fact that every man he’d spoken to had him rolling his eyes so hard he was surprised they weren’t stuck.
Finally, the bell rang once more. If Dabi were able to cry tears of relief he would. He really thought this would be amusing and it turned out to be awful. He questioned his own intelligence as he nodded to the man across the table from him, stood up, and made his way to the next one. He took one look at the next participant and suddenly, his outlook changed. None other than the Number Two Pro-Hero himself sat at the table. Dabi was about to have a blast.
He sauntered over, Hawks completely oblivious to his approach. Birdbrain was studying that damn list of suggested questions intently, as if he would find the secret to life somewhere within it. Hell, maybe he would. It’s what the man was here for, after all.
Dabi plopped entirely ungracefully in the wooden chair. The bell rang, signaling the start of the round, and with a shit eating grin beneath his mask, waited for the hero to look up. This was going to be so good.
Hawks placed the paper down, cleared his throat, and looked up. Golden eyes met ice blue, and Dabi had to give him credit, he didn’t squawk loudly as the villain predicted he would.
Birdbrain: 1, Dabi: 0.
His eyes did widen slightly in surprise, before narrowing in annoyance, and finally settling on exhaustion. Another unexpected reaction, he mused. Whatever, so Hawks had some surprises under all that tediousness. Time to get this show on the road.
“Well, well, well,” Dabi spoke first, “What have we here?”
“What,” Hawks said, sounding as if he were dealing with a particularly unwanted guest, “are you doing here?”
“Can’t a man try to get a date?” Dabi spread his arms and shrugged, as if it were completely natural for him to be in downtown Fukuoka.
“Not a villain who’s wanted in every province in the country, no,” Hawks leaned forward and whispered, with no small amount of venom.
“C’mon, Birdbrain,” Dabi pulled off his face mask, “I have every right to be here and look for love, just as you do.”
He knew Hawks didn’t believe him. He still had that maniacal grin on his face. Also, there was no way in hell “Dabi” and “love” should be in the same sentence together. He was an arsonist bent on revenge. He didn’t have time to fuck around and make long-term connections. He definitely didn’t have time for a significant other.
“No,” Hawks said through gritted teeth, “You don’t. Now, put that back on before someone sees you and calls the police.”
“I don’t think I will, thanks.”
Dabi cackled when Hawks stiffened at his refusal. This was the most fun he’d had in months, maybe even years. It was definitely the most fun he’d had all day, considering the number of snoozefests he was forced to endure to get here.
“Tell me something, hero,” Dabi put his hands behind his head, and leaned his chair back on two legs, “Are these bores really what you’re looking for? If so, I’ll walk out right now and we can pretend this never happened.”
“I doubt that,” Hawks muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Suit yourself, but you didn’t answer my question.”
Hawks’s mouth formed a thin line, then he looked Dabi dead in the eye- for the love of fuck, the man had pretty eyes- and said, “If you must know, no it’s not. I’d hoped for someone…I don’t know.”
Dabi’s eyebrows raised at that, almost as high as they had when he saw the sign outside, “You’re here without knowing what you’re looking for in a partner?”
“I’ve never done this before, okay?” Hawks sounded hurt and defensive.
“What? Speed dating?”
“No,” the hero squirmed in his chair, “Dating. Period.”
Oh. Oh my god. This was even better than Dabi could have predicted. The prettiest boy in Japan has never been on a single date. Dabi could have died laughing, and was pretty sure he almost did. He gave one last wheeze and looked back up at Hawks, who had turned the color of a ripe tomato.
“It’s not funny,” he whispered so quietly it was almost inaudible. He very suddenly looked small and sad, and Dabi got the feeling he wasn’t telling him something important. Dabi realized he’d struck a particularly sensitive nerve, and his stomach lurched.
Ew, gross. Was that guilt? Where did that come from? Dabi hasn’t felt guilt since… well, he wouldn’t think about that. Dabi had his own secrets. Either way, he didn’t know what to do with that type of emotion. It didn’t help that the guilt was tinged with something else, something Dabi couldn’t put his finger on. Pity, maybe? Feelings were hard, man. They got all mixed up with each other, and some of them didn’t even have names.
They were both silent for a moment, staring at each other across the table. Dabi realized he barely got any jabs in, they had about 2 minutes left, and things were awkward. What to do?
Before he could even think about what came out of his mouth, Dabi crossed his arms and huffed, “Look, Birdbrain, if you need help picking someone up… I can help you.”
Inwardly, Dabi cringed. What the fuck was he doing?
Hawks jerked in surprise, and his eyes really did widen this time, “You?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I happen to not be a stuttering virgin, unlike certain pro-heroes I could name.”
“I’m not a virgin,” Hawks’s expression shifted to offended.
Okay. That really surprised Dabi. Having tipped his chair back on two legs again, he almost fell over after hearing it, “You’re joking.”
Looking pleased with himself, Hawks shook his head no.
Well. Birdbrain was now standing at two, and the villain still sat at a whopping zero.
The final bell rang.
“Okay. Well, that was informative, but I need to get back to-“
“Stalking me?” Hawks sounded amused.
Dabi shot him a glare that would have withered anyone else, “Shut up, Birdbrain. I don’t trust you.”
“But you’re going to help me get a date?”
Dabi waved him off, “That’s different. I gotta get out of here. You want help? Put my name down at the event table. I’ll do the same.”
“I already have your number.”
“Do it, Hero.”
“Fine. Just put down Hawks.”
Dabi told Hawks the fake name he gave at the start of this mess, spun around, pulled his mask back over his face, and put his sunglasses on. He stalked over to the event table, wrote down his “name” and then “Hawks,” and handed it off to Bubblegum Hair.
He sincerely hoped he wouldn’t come to regret this.