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“What the fuck is that?” Dabi asked, his voice sharp and tense and, if Hawks wasn’t mistaken, edging on fearful.
Hawks cleared his throat. “Okay. So, this hasn’t happened in a while.”
On the sheets between them sat a single, sticky, beige egg.
Hawks considered this from Dabi’s point of view: he’s been banging a hero, one he doesn’t entirely trust but still puts his dick inside, but due to scheduling constraints, hasn’t put said dick in said hero in a few weeks. Upon finally getting to hit again, his hero-fuck buddy pops out a real, bonafide egg. That would be unexpected, totally. Even Hawks himself was a bit surprised.
The last time he dropped one of these, he was twenty-one and had been working so hard that he forgot– “Oh shit, my drugs!”
Dabi glared, his staples glinting under the dim lamplight. “Are you supposed to be on some kind of birdie birth control for this?”
Hawks slipped from below Dabi and off the bed. “Yes? Look, I got off track because the PLF has kept me so busy. But this little thing is nothing to worry about. Just an early warning sign to get back on track.” he said with a wave at the egg.
Tentatively, Dabi scooped the egg from the sheets, shifting it between his hands as he examined the thing.
Thinking over what this first egg heralded, though, Hawks continued, “I do think we should stop for the night. We can pick up again… I don’t know. Tomorrow night? We can pretend this never happened.”
“I cannot pretend I’m not holding an egg that I just found by literally sticking my fingers inside you.”
Dabi looked well and truly put out. Annoyance crossed his face in a sour wave, which might’ve set Hawks into a sterner mood if the man’s words didn’t cause such intense embarrassment. His face heated up so fast he knew he must look as red as his wings (not a hot look.)
They then entered a staring contest, one Hawks knew he was doomed to lose but had to try anyway. But he was flustered, of all demeaning things, and Dabi was stubborn as an ox. Still, he held fast against those bright blue eyes. They were at once a cold, icy color and yet as bright and brilliant as the man’s own flame quirk. That was Dabi—burning hot and freezing cold. Even if Hawks’ thoughts tried to stray to anything other than Dabi’s intensity, his mind pinged relentlessly with, Oh fuck I am really wet. It’s sticky between my thighs and his fingers felt so fucking good right there and fuck. It’s really uncomfortable feeling all that slick drying on me. Cold and tacky when Dabi has such warm, clever fingers.
Hawks caved. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, there was Dabi, his expression flat and vexed. Which was especially bad, because while Dabi might be a tool when pissed off, Hawks was too worked up to potentially lose the guy for the night.
“There’s probably still a couple more of those left.”
“Inside you?” Dabi confirmed.
“Yeah, inside me.”
Silence stretched in Dabi’s bedroom. Hawks and Dabi met with equally blank faces, neither knowing what to do or say next. Hawks especially felt out of his depth. He’d laid his truth bare, and now Dabi had to pick it up and decide what he wanted to do (or not do) with. That.
“I still have to get them out.”
“Yeah, I fucking got that,” Dabi snapped. Hawks’ wings flicked awkwardly. His own room was on the bottom floor of the PLF’s villa. While the walk of shame would be painful, especially with the stares from the minions lurking around the place, he could endure it. He’d have to, if Dabi declined to… assist.
Dabi ran a hand through his hair and groaned, but luckily for Hawks, muttered, “Get back on the bed, asshole.”
Hawks did that.
With some fumbling, they got back into position. Dabi knelt gingerly over Hawks; Hawks sunk into the pillows with nothing but pale skin and dark scars above him. Blunt as ever, Dabi asked, “So what? I finger you until another egg slides out?”
Hawks gulped. Dabi heard and saw and looked unimpressed.
“Your eyebrows are paid actors,” Hawks quipped, and the eyebrows acted harder.
“You want me to fuck you or not?” And well, that shut Hawks up. His shirt was still on, tight and a little too stiff given how he’d gone from turned on to, well, turned on but now really, really embarrassed. As Dabi dipped his twisted, slender fingers back to Hawks’ thighs, Hawks tugged off his shirt. The moment of blindness was a grace. For just a minute, he couldn’t see Dabi’s judgemental expression nor that shiny fucking egg.
He'd started laying the eggs around puberty. He didn’t have many “bird parts,” as he called them at fourteen. He missed out on sick as hell talons, fun and flirty tail feathers, and pin-like eyes. Instead, he got a small dick and off-putting-to-hook-ups cloaca. His intimates had encouraged him with “don’t be insecure over your size!” and “that’s toxic masculinity, don’t listen to that!” But he still felt a little shafted by his genetics on this one. Dabi, to his credit, had never seemed put off. In fact, the first time they slept together, he took one look at Hawks’ dick and said, “Oh hell yeah, I can fit that in my mouth.” And then he did. Again and again.
Apparently, having stapled together cheeks made giving head a touch difficult, but with a slightly smaller than average member to fit in his mouth, blowjobs were much easier and vastly more pleasant. In his secretive, distressingly romantic thoughts, Hawks often thought of them as a perfect match. Sexually, at least.
And then he couldn’t dwell on his personal shit, because with a jolt, he realized, Oh. There’s Dabi. His thin finger slid inside, dry skin against Hawk’s wet entrance. The feeling wasn’t pleasant, far from it, but as the finger became coated in more and more of Hawk’s slick, the more pleasurable the pressure became. Dabi’s mouth opened slightly, his eyes relaxing from his regular glare into a seductive, glowing, half-lidded gaze. Intense blue against dark scarring, altogether two bright lights within a shadowy face.
A second finger pushed and stretched Hawks. He leaned back into the pillows, and when that didn’t relieve the persistent ache from being fingered, he fell forward onto Dabi’s shoulder. Dabi mirrored his position and added, in a low, wanting moan, “You feel so fucking good. So soft and tight.”
“Yeah?” Hawks panted.
Dabi grunted, less tender now. “Yeah. Gonna have to loosen you up for these stupid fucking eggs to come out. Are these…?”
Hawks batted sweat out of his eyes. Dabi kept pumping his fingers, slowly and painfully good. “Viable?” He finished. “Nah, not unless I fuck up my meds again next week.”
“Don’t do that.”
Hawks had a brief thought, more secretive and more distressing than the concept that he and Dabi might be a perfect match. He wondered–just for that one moment– what would their kid look like? Blue eyes? Feathery fluffy hair? Fire quirk? Telekinetic fire? Telekinetic fire feathers–
Dabi’s fingers hit the egg inside of him, and his brain shut down. The longest moan of his life trailed out of him, embarrassing and all-too-satisfying. Then, slowly, agonizingly, the egg shifted. His body squeezed around the ovular solid inside of him, moving it down and out, or damn— almost out. Dabi teased the egg, pushing it against his walls, upping the pressure, and just fucking driving Hawks insane.
Finally, it got close enough that Dabi’s finger could wrap around the whole egg. It fit in his palm, but just barely. Keigo squeezed his eyes shut and buried his head into the firm crook of Dabi’s shoulder. His cloaca, of course, was designed by nature to release these little bastard eggs, far bigger ones really, so it easily slid out of him. While the pressure on his walls lessened—at once sweet relief and yet, a sense of something missing—the weight in his pelvis didn’t disappear.
“Fuck,” he panted. “Still one more, I’m pretty sure.”
Dabi mouthed at Hawks’ neck, helping him relax into the whole affair. One more. He could do this.
“I feel kinda… empty,” Hawks said breathlessly. “Without that one. It feels so big, so good.”
A warm chuckle rumbled from Dabi. “Yeah? Want me to fill you up before I get that last egg out?”
Hawks groaned just from the thought of it. Dabi took that as a yes, and Hawks certainly didn’t mind.
Laying back fully on the bed, he held his breath as Dabi lined himself up, pushing himself inside. As he slowly entered, he used one hand to stroke Hawks’ cock, teasing his head and pressing the small slit until precum beaded out and onto his fingertips. It was too much all at once, but he wanted to bask in the feeling. As long as he could, as long as he could stand it, he wanted to enjoy having Dabi all over him like this.
Hawks’ hands ran down Dabi’s back, lightly running down the healthy skin and burned skin alike. He needed to be careful, sure, but he also liked putting his hands all over the man’s body. Screw Dabi’s hesitance, Hawks wanted what he wanted. He liked raking his fingers over stretchy, healthy skin, he liked mouthing the crook of his neck, he liked biting where the skin was thin and pinked easily. Dabi didn’t develop hickeys everywhere, but where he did, Hawks left them. He sucked above scarlines, he pinched at Dabi’s healthier nipple, and he lavished when the man moaned and bit back, kissing back harder and angrier and so obviously into it.
All the while driving Hawks completely, one-hundred-percent insane, was Dabi’s cock. Sure, the guy moved slowly, probably a bit nervous about the whole “egg still inside of Hawks” situation, but hot damn. This was torture. Hawks pushed his hips down, craving a deeper thrust, but Dabi just gave him the tip. In and out, wet and slow and delightfully good at his opening but not nearly enough inside his cloaca. Finally, Dabi grunted. He pushed in up to his balls, harder this time than the previous thrusts, and that was what Hawks needed. He keened. His spine arched and his head fell between the pillows, getting buried. That was fine, it was better not to see. Losing a sense helped him focus on how he felt.
He felt alive. He felt wired. Like he’d just downed three espresso and taken a flight across Kyushu at top-speed. Like soaring above the ocean, the salt spray in his face and the sun beating down hot on his wings. He felt free and reckless. Dabi–the heat of him, the fire within him–gave him that.
He came hard, cum spilling onto Dabi’s hand, but the egg didn’t budge. Dabi waited, a hand bracing Hawks’ back while the messy hand circled his now extra-sensative dick.
“Wanna cum like that again, hero?” Dabi asked. And yeah, who wouldn’t?
Dabi moved. Each roll of his hips hit his dick into the egg still inside of Hawks. Pleasure coursed through Hawks’ body, hardening his own dick in record time. He kept rolling, thrusting, moving on and on like the barreling of waves. They crashed through Hawks and became steady surges of pleasure. The pressure and the repeated thrusts built and built into a crescendo that he couldn’t stand. He came again, less literal cum this time but it felt more intense than the first one, anyway. Dabi joined him, his hips moving a few final, staccato thrusts as he moaned wantonly.
For a moment, both of them laid still, silent save for their shallow breathing.
Then, Dabi said, “Should probably get that egg out, huh?” And he slid out of Hawks. Sticky, thick cum began to flow out from his cloaca, and his very wide, ready-to-pop-an-egg entrance did fuck all to stop that flow. Ejaculate was a lot less hot once the horniness passed.
As loose as he was after all that, and lubed up with Dabi’s cum, the egg began exiting his body in a hurry. With deft fingers, Dabi plucked the last egg from Hawks’ cloaca.
And then it was on the sheets, which were now wet and sticky.
“So…” Dabi began, looking far more awkward post-coital. “These are kind of small to be human babies.”
Hawks rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, that’s the weird thing about going off my meds.”
“Meds?” Dabi finally questioned. To be fair, he’d left it alone up to this point.
“Kind of like birdy birth control. Egg control. Anyway, they’re small at first, from my body building up resources to make a viable egg. If I went off egg control, I’d have an egg fit for a newborn human in another month or three.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
They changed the sheets. Strangely, Dabi motioned for Hawks to sleep over. Tired as he was, Hawks acquiesced. The bed was soft (thank goodness for clean bedding) and Dabi warm. Probably the fire quirk. For once, Hawks slept like a rock. No civilians to wake up and save, no office meetings to conduct.
When he woke, it was to blue eyes. Hawks smiled, for a moment, but then realized the eyes were scrutinizing him. Studying.
“What’s up?” he mumbled, voice not ready to function at normal volume.
And of all the insane, unexpected things that could come from the ruthless villain he was fucking, Dabi asked, “You ever think about going off that egg control?”