#im like high and sleepy this is so incredibly funny to me as a challenge rn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

lavender latte: vi

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 || chapter 7 ||

masterlist

word count: 6.8k

finally. god.

warnings: none really! reader’s foot booted, but that’s about it.

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well. here we are. thank u to everyone for reading this sweet, sweet story. we’re not through it yet, but i’m happy to offer a meal with this chapter. enjoy lovies. beta’ed by the lovely love @keiqos.

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You had several problems after returning to your apartment from the hospital. One of your coworkers was nice enough to drive you and your things back, but quickly the niceties stopped and your vague hell began.

Exclusively being on crutches sucked. Navigating your apartment and trying to live somewhat normally was a massive pain. Even just showering was a task that sapped most of your energy. Standing one-legged and balancing made your body ache with a deep soreness, especially the first few days you returned.

This was not even to mention the unpleasant dreams you were having.

‘Unpleasant’ & ‘dreams’ were a nice way of putting it.

You could recall that during your first night in the hospital, one of your doctors told you of the possibility of experiencing a few post-traumatic symptoms. Considering how out of it you were at the time, it was unsurprising how you brushed it off.

The reality was much harder to ignore.

...

Cars revving.

Shouting.

Shattering—

Your eyes flashed open, chest heaving and brow covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

Fuck that.

It was the same dream, an obvious recreation of the stimuli of the event. Though it was scattered in your memory, the dreams made it horribly vivid and vibrant despite lacking detail. The sounds and smells of that day clung to you as you shook your head, forcing yourself into wakefulness.

Your comforter was thrown from your body, and you shivered as cold air rushed over you. As jarred as you were, you still swung your legs off the bed, readjusting your boot and your aching leg, half-heartedly glaring at your crutches.

Your apartment wasn’t terribly set up to get around with your limited mobility, but your difficulty functioning didn’t help your overall mental state. Everything was just harder with the boot on, and you did your best to work with it.

Being locked up in your apartment added to the hellishness of it. You were so used to the stimuli and social environment of the teashop, it felt like a cold water shock when you were confined to your home entirely alone except for your cats.

You could, of course, try and venture out into the world. But, it was still winter and the ice-covered sidewalks didn’t seem like the best place to try and crutch around.

Within the first day or two, you resigned yourself to your three-week fate of being holed up.

You had a laundry list of things you could do. Shows and movies to watch, places in your house to clean, your cats to pet, but—

You still had far too much time on your hands.

A lot of your newfound time in the first few days was spent on your back, leg propped up, and draped in ice bags, musing over Hawks.

Hawks.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t avoid it, couldn’t stop it. Just thinking about him made every part of you swirl and thrum like you were listening to some sort of contently-chorded song and you were more than happy to play it on repeat until your ears bled. Maybe that feeling towards Hawks had always been there (it had), but now you accepted it and stopped holding yourself back as much.

You never thought the idea of someone squeezing your shoulder would send you into literal fits of giggles and butterflies, but boy, did it. Not to mention all of the careful touches and gentle words you two had shared in the aftermath of the attack, though the memories were hazy. What you did remember and cherish was the warmth of him, quirk activated or not. Each time you recalled it, your gut fluttered and your hands twitched.

Your ceiling was the most interesting place to look in your apartment. The plain texture was the perfect canvas to allow your memories of the sweet interactions the two of you had shared to play like comforting reruns. The commercial breaks of these daydreams were the texts exchanged between you and Hawks.

Keigo couldn’t stop thinking about you either.

It wasn’t as distracting as it once was, as he had been more liberal with letting himself text you. The high number of messages between the two of you was maybe ridiculous, but he was a fast texter and you seemed to have plenty of jokes and banter for him to share in.

As good as the texting was, it was also nice to check-in on you and your recovery. You seemed more annoyed than anything else, but Keigo wasn’t so much of an idiot as to think you weren’t in any pain or struggling at all. Though you didn’t explicitly tell him or show him, he was familiar with the pains of healing and could infer some things about your state.

Keigo tried to brighten your day as he could. ‘Hawks’ still had plenty of hero work to do, especially with the information extracted from the recently detained syndicate members. Despite this, he took as much time as he could to stop and send you little snippets and messages which hopefully would help you smile a little.

It did, of course. Just talking to Hawks did.

You had moments of awareness a few times a day where you had to remind yourself that, yes, (Y/N), you were just casual friends and deeply enamored with the number two hero and that sentiment was at least partially returned.

You had a lot of time to wonder to what extent the feelings were returned. They obviously weren’t entirely one-sided, right?

It was completely possible that they were, but you did your best to shake off the thought.

It was more likely that notorious bachelor and flirt, pro hero Hawks, just wanted a fuck with some feelings. To fuck with some feelings, right?

Though, he did say that he cares about you.

But, you definitely can care about someone you only want to fuck.

You wished you had some sort of definitive answer. The murkiness of it all just made the sweetness of the past and the texts of the present seem a bit sour.

Confessing to Hawks was daunting and terrifying. Not to mention, it felt a bit juvenile, all of it. People weren’t supposed to get melty crushes like this past high school, right? Especially not ones this deep on someone who couldn’t possibly feel the same as you, right?

During one of these moments of uncomfortable clarity, your phone beeped as you rested on the couch. Despite not even seeing the message, you knew it would be Hawks.

You grabbed your phone, clicking open the newest message.

[birdboy]: hey hey angel

[birdboy]: look at this fucker i found

The image attached was a photo of Hawks standing next to one of his own billboards, advertising some sort of sports drink. The photo had obviously been taken with a timer, the angle of the photo tilted as Hawks and the billboard were quite small in the frame. It added to the charm of the photo, the way Hawks was holding a feather blade to the throat of his own advert. You could even tell through the pixels he was wearing a wide smile as he did so, wings spread behind him

You snorted.

You and Hawks are just friends, you reminded yourself.

[you]: looks like a punk bitch 2 me dude

[you]: kinda uncanny resemblance tho

[birdboy]: i agree

[birdboy]: he’s hot tho

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you readjusted on the couch. You weren’t disagreeing, not at all.

[you]: not wrong

[you]: still, punk bitch

[birdboy]: :^(

[birdboy]: feelings = hurt

[birdboy]: please tell me the photo is funny

[birdboy]: it took like five tries

[you]: very funny, im gonna save it and sell when im short on cash

[birdboy]: my publicist will blacklist u

[you]: i’d like to see them try

[birdboy]: is that a challenge angel????

[you]: a promise

There was a break in the messages, though Hawks appeared to be typing.

[birdboy]: unrelated but

[birdboy]: how are you doing?

You paused, taking stock of your disheveled, sleepy self. You were only a few days out of the hospital and you definitely could’ve been worse off.

[you]: im okay!!!

[you]: sore and tired honestly

[birdboy]: :^(

[birdboy]: i'm glad to hear its not worse at least

[birdboy]: ill send u lots more embarrassing photos

[birdboy]: a million angel

[you]: my hero <3

It all was surreal and mentally impossible to avoid.

You really, really liked Hawks and had for a long while.

...

Keigo spent most of the rest of the day busy with patrols and work for the Commission, much to his chagrin. He hardly got a chance to text you. It reminded him of his reality as a pro, his fast-paced nature and how he truly couldn’t slow down, not at that point anyway. He had a brand and habitual way of being that was standard. Even for you, he wasn’t sure if he could slow down, even if he wanted to or needed to.

The idea scared him, pieces of his reality.

But, at the same time, Keigo hadn’t ever felt like this before. The weird, but incredibly alluring and comfortable heat in his chest made him feel like he’d do anything for you. Fuck, he’d fly to the stars and move them if he could, if that’s what it took.

Maybe he even wanted to.

Keigo couldn’t become a different person, for anyone, that’s not how things worked. But if getting closer to you meant... adjusting, he could do that. Easily. He was adaptable as all hell and he’d be glad to use it for something that made him feel good instead of hollow.

Keigo busily flew the day away. As the afternoon turned to night, the sky going pink and purple with dusk, he settled on top of a taller office building. It looked down on a street market, its smells and sounds wafting up to him on his perch.

It gave him an idea.

A good one.

You were inspecting your fridge with a grimace. Balancing on your crutches and being counter-weighed by the boot on your foot made your angry stance a whole lot less intimidating, but it was the sentiment that counted.

Several days post-hospital had done a number on your food supply. The fridge was empty except for a few nearly expired items and condiments. The dry shelves weren’t looking much better.

The shrill sound of your ringtone from the couch made your jump, nearly falling. You teetered back over to it, eye-widening at the caller ID.

[birdboy] calling...

Hawks had never called you before.

You quickly picked up the call, “...Hello?”

“Hey, angel!” Hawks was chipper on the other line. “What’re you up to?”

“Currently?” You hummed, turning forlornly to your kitchen. “Thinking about how I either need to order groceries or order dinner before committing to my couch for the rest of the night. Why? You don’t usually call.”

“I don’t,” Hawks’s smile was apparent in his voice, even through the receiver. “But, I had an idea.”

“Shoot.”

“I might just be near a super good takeout spot. How hard would it be for me to convince you to let me drop some food by your place? My treat.”

You didn’t reply for a second.

Stunned.

“Are you sure?”

“More than, dove. I’m off the rest of the night, anyways.”

Oh.

That gave you an idea—

An idea that would surely push the envelope of your feelings.

Let it.

“Okay, I’m in. One condition.” You bit your lip, willing your stomach to seize fluttering.

“You name it. This place is really good and—”

“I have been going a little stir crazy, and,” You cut him off, squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation, “how hard would it be to convince you to come over and stay awhile?”

Hawks was silent.

Your stomach dropped.

“Wait, I-I mean—” You stuttered, trying to gather yourself, but this time Hawks cut you off.

“Like, to hang out?” Hawks sounded shocked on the other line.

“Yes.”

You kept your breathing even and prayed it didn’t read over the call.

“God, dove. I’d love to. I can be over in like ten—”

“Wait,” You fisted the fabric of your sweats. “Can I have a little more time? For myself and my apartment.”

Hawks chuckled on the other end of the line, “Sure, angel. Thirty sound better?”

You let out a sigh of relief, falling on to the back of your couch, “Sounds perfect.”

Keigo decided to tease a bit, his heart pounding in his chest almost painfully. He knew from day one that you were bold, but this was a treat. He had to spare back, just a little.

“Though, dove, I’m sure you look more than perfect yourself. You always do.” He didn’t wait for your response, either out of fear of what you’d say or being a bit smug, he wasn’t sure.

Keigo hung up the call, burying his face in his gloves to try and stifle the blush on his cheeks, though it hardly helped.

It didn’t have to.

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Thirty minutes later and you were mostly sorted.

You managed to throw yourself into the shower, tossing on something half-way decent, but still comfortable. Had to keep it casual.

Crutching around your apartment, you picked up what clutter you could, mind spinning. Hawks coming over to your fucking apartment filled you with elated, and yet terrifying, anxiety. A few times while cleaning, you legitimately paused to muffle quiet screams in your hand at the prospect.

You felt like you were going to burst.

Keigo did too, notably.

He took the time to fly all the way back to his apartment, take the world’s fastest shower, and throw on some clothes other than his costume. Going back to get food, his hands shook as he handed the bills to the starry-eyed vendor who he’d just written an autograph for.

You’d sent a quick text just before he’d left with a description of your balcony, so neither of you would have to figure out how to let him in through the roof.

As he flew to your place, Keigo felt like he was going to implode.

He didn’t ‘hang out’ with people. Nope, far too busy for anything like that. He was a compulsory workaholic, it was part of his mental brand of being (or, mental ‘branding’, maybe). The closest he got to casual time with folks was the preamble before a hookup or the time he had spent at the tea shop with you. Actually going to spend time with someone, casually, and it was you? It was all new and terrifying.

But, above all? Exciting.

The whole situation opened many doors, all of which Keigo pictured and picked apart as he neared your apartment. There were so many potential situations to appraise and plan for, he felt overwhelmed by it all.

The opportunity to spend some... time with you outside of the tea shop was a necessity, right? Keigo’s original idea had been to drop off some food and banter for a while, but the idea of spending one of his precious nights off with you was so much better than he could’ve expected.

Not to mention the warm bit of validation sparked by the fact that you asked him to come over, you wanted him around —

It felt nice.

So nice.

You paused, hearing telltale scuffing of someone on your balcony.

Oh my god.

He’s here.

Hawks is here.

You gulped, shaking your head.

Don’t you dare chicken out now. Commit, dammit. You’re just... hanging out. With your friend.

Yeah.

A knock on the glass pulled you to the door of your balcony, hobbling to slide it open on your crutches.

Hawks was happy to push the door the rest of the way open, stepping inside with a bag of takeout slung on his arm.

Your mouth parched, seeing him once again in civilian clothing. Was it... normal to get turned on by the fact that he looked normal?

As Hawks stepped into your humble apartment, wings tucked tightly to his back, you drank him in, hair ruffled with his clear visor placed on top of his head to push back the windswept front pieces. He wore a white sweater and black trousers complete with heavy black boots that were quickly untied and left by the door.

“You’re staring, you know,” Hawks interrupted your thoughts as you straightened up on your crutches.

Recover.

“Can’t prove that,” You tutted, crutching away from the door. “Also, welcome. Watch out for my cats, they might try to get a mouthful of your feathers.”

“Duly noted,” Hawks clicked his tongue, standing up and following you as you meander to the kitchen.

Keigo had to admit that your apartment was relatively... cute. He was used to his own, seldom-used digs. He had a big, uncomfortably nice penthouse with too many disused rooms and too much open space. Fixtures and furniture that were too expensive, probably, but it had been far easier to hire some big-name interior designer and not bother with dealing with it himself. Keigo had trouble keeping many ‘personal’ possessions, anyways. His training with the Commission made him almost revile the thought of keeping unnecessary, material objects, sans a few.

Your home was the exact opposite.

Maybe it was that he didn’t know how to have a personal touch that it made your cozy little apartment feel so full of them.

Little photos and artworks on walls or in frames caught Keigo’s eyes as he followed you to the kitchen. He took note of several blankets on the couch, catching sight of the plushie he’d given you at the hospital. Even the lighting of the apartment was personal, diffuse. With how easily overstimulated you became, it made sense that you’d keep your apartment so ambiently dim.

“So, first off, thank you for coming by and delivering dinner. I am eternally grateful,” You bowed dramatically, leaning to flail out a crutch at the motion. “Second, as payment, I’ll make you a drink. Maybe not with my quirk, but I have some of my old tea blends here.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Keigo shrugged, setting the takeout down on the counter while his ever-present grin nearly hurt his face from how relentless it was. “And tea? Show me what you’ve got. Or, should I trust you to pick one out for me?”

You hummed, clicking your tongue before moving across the kitchen to a different set of cabinets, “I think I’ve actually got a good one for you. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Lay on the details, angel,” Keigo hummed, leaning against the lip of the counter.

You did have the perfect blend in mind. It wasn’t too old, hardly stale. It would pair as well as a nice tea could with fried takeout, judging by the smells wafting from the bag on the counter.

“It’s one I made for a brunch we catered a few months back. It’s just a white tea raspberry blend, but it’s not delicate. It should stand up to any sort of food you’ve brought. Thank you, by the way.”

Setting your crutches down, you started to push yourself up onto the counter without thinking much of it, booted-foot going limp off the edge.

“Of course, anytime— woah, angel,” His voice choked as you wavered on the edge of the counter, off-balance.

There was a short flap of wings and rush of air as you tried to rebalance, cursing the deadweight of your leg.

If Hawks hadn’t been directly behind you, you probably would’ve eaten shit.

You turned yourself as far as you could, cheeks going hot.

Hawks’ face was just inches away from yours. That was even to mention the hands hovering around your waist, chest brushing up against your back.

“S-sorry,” Did he just fucking stutter? “You looked like you were about to eat shit there.”

The words hardly reach you, you were too busy actively telling yourself not to stare at his pretty, plump lips because that is not something friends do. Not the can of worms you needed to open, right?

“I-,” You turned away from him, stretching up to the tea tin that had been out of your reach. “To think you’ve saved me from falling while reaching for loose leaf tea, twice.”

“All in a day's work,” His hands twitched around your sides but hardly shifted until you began to descend from the countertop. In fact, Hawks hardly moved away at all until you were situated back on your crutches.

You pretended not to notice the flush on his cheeks.

Maybe, it was a bit too close. Definitely too close, and bad circumstances, but god, you wanted more and more of him.

You swallowed your desires down, cracking a smile.

Be normal.

Be cool!

You shook the tin, leaves and dried fruit rattling inside, “So, cream or sugar?”

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The two of you ended up on the couch, picking through the several boxes of takeout that Hawks had brought. Most of dinner was spent bantering back and forth about one of Hawks’ newest modeling contracts and if it was ‘ethical’ for him to wear his own feathers for the sake of ‘fashion’?

“So, off-topic from insulting my employment ethics, ” Hawks spoke while munching on a piece of chicken. “You surviving?”

“Barely,” You laughed, setting down your utensils with a huff. “I forget how isolation makes you go a little crazy. I’m running out of dumb shit to watch and even dumber shit to send you.”

Hawks snorted, setting down his own box, having had his fill, “I know you are more than adept at combing the internet for more good shit to send me.”

“I mean, maybe, but you keep sending me juicy photos of you being a dumbass. They’re hard to show up, you know?” You side-eyed him at the birdish tilt of his head.

“You don’t need to show me up, angel,” Hawks reminded you, some feathers packing up what was left of the food. “Though, it’s fun. You’re fun.”

You internally winced at the sentiment but forced the smile on your face not to waver.

It was a needed reminder.

This close to Hawks, you could fucking smell him. Maybe it was a little creepy, but you remembered it so well, after the villain attack. The scent of some sort of spicy cologne and old sweat, but it was hardly unpleasant. No, it was intoxicating. It made you feel almost fuzzy, as it wafted around like some reminder that Hawks and you were so close.

You thanked the stars that the apartment lacked the stimuli to make your quirk activate on its own.

Your couch wasn’t very large, and it seemed even smaller with how Hawks had laid his wings over it. They were propped up over the back, outstretched just the smallest bit to relieve some pressure. All the same, the massive feathers made you feel minuscule.

Even the way he was sitting was intoxicating and a bit gut-wrenching. It was casual, the way he leaned back against the far cushions, legs somewhat spread with an ankle over the opposite knee. The pose oozed a weird, untouchable confidence that you hadn’t seen in Hawks in months, maybe ever. At least, not directed at you.

Despite the warm nature of his words, he seemed guarded.

It made your throat dry.

Keigo was quite on edge. He hadn’t meant to get so close in the kitchen, really, he hadn’t. But, seeing you dangling off the edge of the counter like that, even if it was harmless and mundane, made his entire body and mind react before he could think.

But, you weren’t in any danger. Even if you had been, Keigo would’ve been there to catch you.

He’d put himself out of it, overthinking the whole thing. You were fine. Safe.

The other part of his mind spun with how he wanted to be so much closer.

Feeling the warmth of your body, the lines of your waist, the thrum of your heart and breath so fucking close—

It was a lot.

But, he was well-trained and not going to choke.

He’d shoved himself to the opposite side of the couch to you, keeping his boundaries up, strong as steel and hard as carbon.

Of course, Keigo knew the feelings were mutual. That didn’t mean that none of this was terrifying in the same way that it was exhilarating.

As much as he wanted to be closer (so much closer), Keigo remained careful. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was ruin something before it had even truly happened.

You sat back against the couch, repositioning your injured leg on the coffee table, “So, thoughts.”

“On?”

You didn’t look at Keigo as you replied, rather glared at your TV, “What to watch?”

“Oh,” You could hear the smile in his voice. “We’re watching something?”

“You tell me. I imagine you don’t get lots of time to do this sort of thing, do you?”

Hawks didn’t reply for a moment, sitting deeper into the couch, “Not really.”

“Then indulge, tailfeathers,” You tossed the remote in his lap. “Anything, go for it. Go nuts.”

Hawks nearly put on watching a reality cooking show, before you said that that was off-limits, per an odd conversation from way back when where he had admitted to be hot for Gordon Ramsey. He had been a little too vague as to whether or not he would pop a boner from Gordon’s filmed degradations. And truthfully, if anything was gonna give Hawks a hard-on tonight, you were determined for it not to be competitive cooking TV. Maybe, just maybe, you’d rather it be you.

...

Eventually, he settled on some psychological thriller you’d never heard of.

Keigo hadn’t either.

He was glad that you couldn’t hear his heart in the same way he heard your’s pounding.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched you crutch around, turning the already dim lights lower.

Calm the down, Hawks.

Calm the fuck down.

He’d never even done this before. Keigo wasn’t sure how to handle the situation, even if it was as simple as watching a film.

It would’ve been simpler if the tension in the air was thick and foggy, clouding over his consciousness as he tried to focus on anything other than your nearness and how much he wanted to drag you into his lap.

…

His feathers fluttered as you plopped back onto the couch, pulling a blanket over your lap and offering one to him.

He took it, settling it over his lap as the movie went on.

You weren’t an idiot. You could feel the blood rushing in your hot ears as you fisted the blanket over your legs.

Your mind spoke a lot louder than you wanted it to:

Just fucking do it.

Do what exactly?

The paramount thought that was causing anxiety to twirl in your gut.

Maybe, you could just tell him how you felt.

Maybe just hold his hand.

Maybe get fucking rejected because he’s out of your league and out of bounds.

Maybe even kiss him—

You were torturing yourself, the movie just background noise to your internal dilemma.

You’d asked him to your apartment and Hawks had bought you fucking dinner. That wasn’t a lot, sure, maybe, but there were also the months of lead-up.

There were all of the cold mornings and cheeky grins you gave each other in the waking coffee shop. There were the fuzzy jokes, the lingering glances, and the tight feeling you got in your chest whenever he graced you with mere eye contact.

It felt like you were already in too deep to not be honest about how you felt towards him. Fuck, you’d been in too deep for months. Every time you made him a damn drink, you wanted to just drink him in. You were all fluttering hearts and sweet smiles for him in a way that you couldn’t suppress, only squash in moments of such intense anxiety like this—

“Hey, dove?” It was Hawks, shocking you from your turmoil with a soft voice. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” Your reply was curt and clipped.

Make a decision now.

Pull the bandage off, (Y/N).

It’ll just be worse, the longer you wait.

Maybe Hawks did just want to fuck with some cute feelings, the seemingly longing looks be damned. Yeah, you liked him way more than for just a fuck, that was obvious and unavoidable. Besides, it’d be better to know than to not know, right?

“You sure? If the movie’s too much, we can turn it off,” Hawks sounded genuinely concerned from the other side of the couch.

...

You committed, taking a deep breath and turning to Hawks.

“It’s not that,” You looked at the couch between the two of you, tracing the seam of the cushion. “The movie’s fine.”

“Then, you’re not feeling great for another reason?” Keigo asked, feeling each of your breaths and heartbeats like bass drums in his ears. He hides the shaking of his hands by crossing them over his chest. “You can talk to me, (Y/N).”

“Can I?” You asked, shaking your head and laughing at yourself. “Hawks, I need to do something really fucking stupid.”

Holy fuck.

Are they—

“What’s that?”

His voice was smaller than he wanted it to be.

“Fuck, Hawks,” You finally forced yourself to look at him, taking in his guarded posture and pained expression.

Your heart sank.

“I just need to be honest with you.”

Hawks’s brow soured, lips twitching, “Go for it, dove.”

You laughed, maybe trying to soothe yourself, “It’s probably is just, so fucking stupid, all things considered.”

You ran a hand through your hair, biting your lip between sentences and willing yourself to just get it out—

“Hawks, I like you. A lot.”

He still didn’t say anything and you could feel shards of your heart drive into your lungs.

You forced yourself to look up at him, smiling with the slight release of tension in your sternum, however painful.

“I know, we’re just friends, right? I’m just the barista and you’re my special, pro hero regular. I know I’m overstepping right now, but it feels unfair for me to not be honest with you.”

Keigo already knew this, right? He knew how you felt, fuck, he’d felt how you felt. He just wasn’t prepared for the exploding and thrumming in his chest when you told him with your sweet lips and kind words.

Why did it feel so different when you were smiling at him like you were in pain and telling him so fucking honestly with your words?

It was the thing about you that he admired the most, that candor in your tone and the grin in your cheeks as you spoke so.

But, your smile was falling, leaving watery-looking eyes.

“Hawks, I like you. Way too much for friends, and I needed to say something.”

Keigo’s mouth was dry.

For the first time in so fucking long, he was genuinely speechless.

He couldn’t recall a time in his life anyone had spoken so earnestly to him, just you. Just you, you, you— casually, over and over again, you talked to him like he was something real and something to be cared for. It was subtle, but it was one of the many things that made him want you closer.

Yet, despite all his bundled up desires, he was lost for words.

“I’m sorry—”

He stopped you, “(Y/N), please don’t apologize.”

“But—”

“(Y/N).”

Hawks’ voice was sharp. It made the expression on your face rapidly fall.

He looked at you with rapt attention, arms uncrossing from his chest.

He turned to you on the couch, feathers fluffed up and twitching.

Your nose stung as Hawks, all pretty golds and ambers, shook out an exhale and balled up the blanket in his lap.

“Hawks—”

“Why would you need to be sorry?”

Hawks looked at you with wide eyes, brow creased. His shoulders were... shaking?

Your head spun, leg aching, “... What do you mean?”

Hawks finally met your gaze, giving you the sweetest, saddest smile you’d ever seen, “Dove, you’re acting like there’s no way I could feel the same way.”

Every cell in your body stuttered.

“You’ve done it since we’ve met.”

Hawks scooted closer on the cushions of the couch.

“You’ve always acted like there’s just no way I could like you, give a shit about you—”

He moved a bit closer.

You couldn’t make yourself move.

“You want to know the truth?”

You creaked out a nod.

Keigo couldn’t help the way he went to cup your cheeks in his hands, thumbs rubbing along the apples of your cheeks. You lean into his touch, just like at the hospital, despite the blend of absolute fear and confusion in your expression.

“How could I not care about you, dove?” And it finally came out. “I care about so much— dove, I don’t know what to fucking say.”

That made you speechless, lips parting just the slightest bit as Hawks continued, losing composure with his morphing expressions.

He wet his lips, swallowing, “Dove, I’ve never—any of this. I-I don’t know what o-or how to say any of what I want to right now.”

You speak before thinking.

“Show me, if you don’t know how to say it.”

The idea seemed so novel as Keigo ran a thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it from between your teeth. He met your gaze with the gooiest, sweetest look you’d ever seen in your life, “You want me to?”

“Please.”

It was all the two of you had wanted for a while now, right?

“If I kiss you, I’m not ever gonna be able to make this go away, am I?” Keigo was speaking to himself, just above his breath. But, you were more than close enough to hear him.

“Hey, Hawks? I don’t know if we can make ‘this’ try to go away.” You grabbed one of the hands cupping your face, pulling it away, only to shakily press in your lips to the bones on the back of it. “I don’t want to anymore.”

“Y-you gotta stop being so sweet, (Y/N)—”

Neither of you could wait a moment longer.

Your arms wrapped around Keigo’s shoulder. In the same motions, he pulled you closer by your waist, dragging you finally closer to him.

He held your jaw like you were the most precious thing in the world. Because, truthfully, you were to him. The sentiment was shared Deeply.

Your lips pressed together and the long-held tensions in your chests mutually shattered, dissolving in the honeyed touch of each other’s genuine attention.

You angled your head perfectly, Keigo’s hand guiding you as his mouth worked against yours. It wasn’t a particularly steamy sort of affair, but by god, it wasn’t in any way chaste. Not with the tight grip and thumbing on your ribs. Not with the way your hands tangled in the soft (holy fuck, soft) hair at the base of Keigo’s skull.

You both tasted each other's sweetness, craving more of it after denying yourselves of it for so long. It was white-hot, exploding behind your eyes, even as your quirk remained dormant. Keigo was honey and cream and smoked spices all dancing across your palette.

To Keigo? You were sweet, cool water over a hot burn. You were the heat of a hearth rolling over him on the coldest of days. He swears that in the first moments he finally got to be close to you, and over and over again— he finally understood how your quirk worked.

There was no way that finally feeling you, feeling you as he felt you, could be described with just five senses.

You pulled away first, gasping for breath and arching your back into him. You lingered as close as you could, pressing your forehead to Keigo’s while your breaths mingled. You didn’t dare stray far.

“Was that enough to show you?” Keigo asked, breathless. He kept a wide hand against your back, urging you with a bit of soft pressure to put your weight into it. You complied, settling in his hold as Keigo stroked at your hot cheeks.

You nodded, beaming up at him with that sunny smile of yours. It never failed to make heat burn through Keigo and god, did it feel good to finally let it unabashed.

“I take it, you like me too, huh,” You smiled, looking a bit embarrassed.

“Very much, very much,” Keigo repeated, pressing a kiss to your nose (he’d always wanted to do that). “So much, (Y/N). I apologize for not saying anything sooner. This is just...”

“New to you, right?” You finished his sentence, thumbing along the back of his neck in a way that made Keigo just melt. “It’s been a while for me too, if it makes you feel better.”

“It does, dove. Thank you.” Keigo let out a deep breath, shaking his head against yours. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”

“It’s alright, same goes for me,” As much as you needed to adjust due to the angle of your recovering leg, you couldn’t make yourself do it. You were so wonderfully close to Hawks, you never wanted to move.

“If we’re being honest, then I need to be honest with you,” Hawks met your eyes, his expression going a little dimmer.

You braced for the worst.

He picked up your shift easily, finally able to express how quickly he caught your mood after so long of being attuned to it.

“Oh wait, no, (Y/N), nothing terrible, I promise,” Hawks rubbed at your sides. “It’s about the miel.”

“The... miel?” You cocked your head to the side, confused, recalling the drink somewhat hazily. “The drink I made you on the day of... the attack?”

Hawks gave you a tense smile, “That one, yeah. Remember how you said it was just based on your ambient feelings?”

“Uh-huh.” You let confusion lace your tone until it slowly started to dawn on you.

“You made the drink, ambiently, around me—”

Your eyes widened, mouth falling open, “Oh my god, Hawks, did my feelings for you get in the drink?”

Hawks graced you with a sweet, sympathetic smile, fingers tucking at the hair around your ear, “They did, dove. I’ve kind of known for a few days, it just hasn’t been the time or setting to say something. I apologize.”

“N-no, it’s okay, I totally understand,” You sighed into his grip. “I really thought it might be something worse.”

“Consider your worries assuaged,” Hawks hummed, eyes drifting to your boot. He deadpanned suddenly. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad does your leg hurt right now?”

Fairly bad, considering. You were half on your knees, the booted leg twisted awkwardly while still raised to the coffee table. This wasn’t even to mention the arch of your back so you could be all that closer to Hawks.

The pain of the position was easy to forget; you were still shaking from kissing Hawks just once.

“Uh, maybe like a seven, once I can feel anything other than how good you felt just now,” you hummed, grinning up at Hawks as his face went bright red.

The infinite pleasure you received, making him blush so sweetly.

He shook it off, squeezing your sides, “Cute. Very cute. Mutually returned sentiment, but let’s adjust.”

You nodded but didn’t have much time to react as a bundle of Hawks’s feathers lifted you every which way, albeit incredibly gently. All said and done, he was fully upright against the back of the couch. With the support of a feather or two, Hawks’s arms tugged you into his lap. Your legs stretched to the side, the booted one immediately propped up by a feather-supplied pillow.

You both settled yourselves, blushing and leaning on each other now that you finally were allowing yourself to.

Keigo fully wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against him. One of his wings even shifted to drape over one his shoulder, sheltering the two of you in a canopy of a crimson. Keigo let his hands wander over your hips, not seeking anything more than blessed attention and heat. You gave it all to him, tucking your face into his collarbone, drowning in the scent that made you feel at home.

Keigo pressed his lips to your crown and legitimately shuddering.

He spoke to himself, so faintly and quietly, you hardly caught it, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

There was melancholy in his voice, but you were quick to strip it away.

You brushed your lips along his jaw, savoring the way he held you tighter, “I have too. Can we do this more?”

“Anytime, dove. Anytime.”

“Right now sound good?”

You withdrew to beam up at him as you were so good at doing, only to be smothered by craving-satiating kisses anywhere Keigo could get to. The sweet, high laughter that he dripped onto you made your heart burst all over again.

And you finally, finally fell into the other sweetly, warmly, and properly.

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taglist: @thepandapopo @hawksexual @sinclairsamess @darcia22 @inhalingsoysauce @yee-fxcking-haw

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