Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The meeting room was too bright.

That was Touya’s first complaint of the day, not that he ever kept them to himself. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, clinical and unforgiving, and the long-ass table that took up most of the space gleamed like it was trying to blind him. If Endeavor wanted him to be cooperative, maybe he shouldn’t have scheduled these dumbass strategy meetings at eight in the morning.

“I’m gonna burn this place down if that light flickers again,” Touya muttered under his breath, voice gravelly from lack of sleep and an intentional cigarette on the way in. He was slouched in his seat like the room personally offended him, legs spread wide, arms folded, and his hero jacket thrown over the back of the chair like he had somewhere better to be. Spoiler: he always had somewhere better to be.

Across from him, Hawks was already smirking. Of course he was. Keigo fucking Takami, Pro Hero Hawks, number three in the rankings and an insufferable feathered bastard, was seated with his arms lazily draped over the back of his chair, sunglasses perched low on his nose, giving Touya that look. The one that screamed “God, you’re predictable.”

“Aw, come on, Phoenix,” Hawks drawled, grinning like he hadn’t been seconds from a disciplinary write-up last week. “Don’t tell me the big, bad number two hero can’t handle a little ambient lighting. What happens if you run into a villain with a strobe light quirk, huh?”

Touya turned his head very, very slowly. “I will staple your wings to your stupid face.”

From the head of the table, Endeavor sighed. That was the fourth sigh in seven minutes.

“If you two are finished fighting,” he growled, voice low and flinty, “I’d like to begin the meeting so we can actually get something done.”

Mirko snorted so hard she nearly knocked over her bottle of water. Jeanist was massaging his temples. Aizaws hadn’t moved once since the meeting started; Touya was ninety percent sure the man was asleep with his eyes open, a true professional.

Hawks just laughed like Endeavor hadn’t spoken, unfazed as always. He leaned forward and propped his chin on one hand, eyes glinting with amusement. “Come on, Endeavor,” he said, and it always sounded mocking when he said it, “we all know you invited Phoenix here just to keep the temperature up.”

Touya didn’t even look at him. “I’m here to make sure the building actually collapses when I finally snap.”

Endeavor, jaw twitching, slapped a folder onto the table. “Enough.”

The room settled, reluctantly. Touya kicked his boots up onto the table. No one had the energy to fight him on it.

“As you're all aware,” Endeavor said, voice sharp, “the uptick in coordinated villain activity in the last quarter has forced the Commission to initiate more high-level response units. That means smaller, tighter teams of top-ranking heroes in field-specific assignments. You’ll be briefed on your assignments this week, but first, we’re pairing off.”

The room echoed with groans. Mirko cracked her knuckles. Aizawa might have woken up, it was hard to tell with that man.

Touya picked at one of the new burns on his arm with extreme disinterest. He had special cooling equipment to prevent his quirk from burning him, but it had broken in his last fight, which led to a couple of burns along his arms.

“This isn’t negotiable,” Endeavor continued, pinning the room with his signature death glare. “Each team will consist of two to three pros depending on skillset and mission requirements. Pairings were selected based on combat compatibility, specialization, and… temperament.”

Touya snorted, low and mean.“Temperament? So I’m getting paired with Jeanist or something?” he said, not even trying to hide the disdain. “Can’t wait to spend five hours listening to fabric lectures while I light his jeans on fire.”

Jeanist straightened his back and adjusted his high collar like a prissy little debutante. “Some of us actually respect the sanctity of the uniform.”

“Oh yeah?” Touya said. “Maybe I think that your ‘uniform’ should be on fire.”

“Enough,” Endeavor said again, more forcefully.

He pulled out a tablet and began reading down the list, the monotony of his voice almost enough to lull half the room into a collective coma. Touya didn’t bother to listen to the first half of the list.

He only started focusing once he began to hear the names of the higher ranking heroes, the ones he’d most likely be paired with.

“Miruko and Jeanist, Unit X,” he announced.

Mirko grinned, fist-pumping the air. “Hell yeah. Team Buff Bunny and Boring Blazer.”

“I will not respond to that name,” Jeanist muttered, defeated.

“Present Mic and Eraserhead, Unit Y.”

“Aw hell yeah, baby!” Present Mic crowed, elbowing Aizawa, who blinked once and exhaled like it hurt. “We’re back on the streets together! Time to vibe and annihilate!”

Aizawa looked like he was already regretting every life decision that led him here.

And then, Endeavor hesitated. Just for a second but Touya clocked it immediately. Here we fucking go.

“…Phoenix and Hawks. Unit Z.”

Silence. Utter, blessed, choking silence.

It was very quickly ruined by Touya’s anger, “Whqt the actual fuck.”

Touya was already standing. The chair screeched behind him as it toppled over, flames licking harmlessly at his sleeves as his quirk flared in tandem with his rage. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re pairing me with him?”

Hawks, because he had a death wish, just said, “Hey, at least we match. Firebird theme, right? Our quirks work well together, yeah?”

Touya turned to Endeavor, jaw clenched. “This some kind of punishment, old man? Hm? Trying to teach me a lesson about teamwork or some commission bullshit?”

Endeavor’s expression was unreadable, which usually meant he was either suppressing disappointment or preparing to strangle someone in a hallway. Could go either way.
“It’s a strategic pairing,” he said. “Hawks’ aerial mobility complements your combat style. His speed offers coverage for your line-of-sight limitations. You both specialize in aggressive offense and rapid neutralization. Together, you’re-”

“I’d rather die,” Touya interrupted.

“-the most lethal combination on this roster.”

“Well, at least we’re lethal,” Hawks said brightly. “Better than being useless. Looking at you, Jeanist.”

“Is there anyone here that does not want to insult me today?” Jeanist looked completely and utterly done.

“Boys,” Miruko drawled, feet propped up on the table. “Either shut up and kiss or shut up and fight, I don’t care which.”

Hawks smirked. “You volunteering for referee duty, Mirko?”

She flipped him off without looking.

Endeavor pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ll be expected to operate as a functional unit for the duration of the assignment cycle. That means joint patrols, intel debriefs, and coordinated engagement on all major missions.”

“I’m not coordinating anything with this pigeon,” Touya snapped. “He’s a corporate shill with a punchable face and a 50/50 kill ratio in interviews.”

“Aw, babe, you watch my interviews?” Hawks said, hand over his heart. “I’m touched. Jealousy looks cute on you.”

Touya’s flames sparked at his fingertips. “Say one more word and I’m roasting your smug ass.”

“Can’t roast what’s already smokin’.”

A blast of heat surged across the table. A red feather intercepted it mid-air and vaporised.

“ENOUGH!” Endeavor barked, eyes blazing. “You’re both acting like children. You’re top-ranking pro heroes, not schoolyard rivals. If you can’t handle being in a room together without threatening arson and homicide, then I’ll personally have you reassigned to sewer patrol in Hosu with no hazard pay.”

That shut them up. Mostly. Touya dropped back into his seat like gravity betrayed him, still glaring daggers at Hawks, who winked. The air between them sizzled with unresolved tension, and not the fun kind. The ‘I will end you in your sleep’ kind.

“Fine,” Touya said. “I’ll work with him. But if he starts shedding feathers in my general vicinity, I’m making a pillow out of his remains.”

“Deal,” Hawks said, leaning back. “Just don’t try to set me on fire. Again.”

Mirko cackled. Jeanist sighed like a Victorian widow.

“God,” Touya muttered. “This is hell. I’ve died. I’m in hell and it’s staffed by winged assholes and my emotionally constipated father.”

Endeavor didn’t bother responding, but the vein in his forehead throbbed visibly.

“Unit Z,” he said flatly. “You’ll receive your mission briefings within forty-eight hours. Report to Dispatch by 0600 Monday morning. Dismissed.”

As the rest of the room began to file out, Touya remained seated, arms crossed, seething quietly. Hawks stood and stretched, wings flexing behind him like he knew they were annoying. He looked down at Touya and grinned.

“Well, partner,” he said, smug as ever. “Looks like we’re stuck together.”

Touya stared at him with all the loathing of a man trying to ignite someone’s soul on fire through sheer willpower.

“If you call me partner again, I’m setting your wings on fire.”

Hawks gave a lazy salute, then turned and walked away, feathers fluttering in his wake.

Touya flipped him off with both hands.
Endeavor watched the whole thing in exhausted silence.

——

Touya slammed his apartment door hard enough to rattle the frame and maybe give his neighbor a heart attack. Good. Let them suffer. Misery loved company, and he was currently radiating the emotional equivalent of a dumpster fire in an active volcano.

He didn’t bother turning on the lights. He knew the layout, tight, clean, aggressively black and blue. The apartment was small, sharp, and modern, exactly how he liked it. Everything had a place, everything was intentional. No clutter. No softness. No wings, most importantly.

His jacket hit the floor the second the door shut behind him. Boots came off mid-stride, flung somewhere near the coffee table. His gloves followed, smoldering faintly when they touched the floor. He stomped into the living room and immediately lit a cigarette with a flick of his finger, dragging deep before blowing the smoke out in a single bitter exhale.

“Unit Z,” he muttered, pacing. “Unit Z, like this is a goddamn PowerPoint group project and I got stuck with the class clown who thinks he’s hot shit because he’s got a nice quirk.”

He kicked the side of the couch. It hurt, but he kicked it again anyway.

“To hell with that feathery little freak. ‘Fire Bird’. Seriously?” He took another drag, nearly crushing the cigarette, and exhaled through his nose. “I should’ve set the conference room on fire. It would’ve done society a favor.”

He was spiraling, and he knew it. Good. Let it burn. He stalked into the kitchen, grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and downed it like it was vodka and he was trying to forget a one-night stand.

The problem wasn’t just that he’d been partnered with Keigo fucking Takami. Okay, no, that was the problem. Full stop. But what made it worse was that Endeavor knew exactly what he was doing. Strategic pairing his ass. That man was trying to force some lesson out of him again, like he was seventeen and still doing underground hero work in spite of everything, still throwing middle fingers at Commission cameras, still-

No. Not going there. He slammed the glass down on the counter so hard it cracked.

“Fucking fabulous,” he muttered, tossing it into the sink like it personally offended him. “Next I’ll get fined for being ‘reckless with others’ or some Commission shit.”

He hated this. Not just the pairing, not just the bullshit pretense of “compatibility” that Endeavor had slapped onto this assignment like duct tape on a crumbling wall. No, he hated what it meant. Patrols. Briefings. Shared airtime. Having to look at Hawks’ smug little face every goddamn day for who knew how long. Being associated with him. Publicly.

And the media was going to eat it up.
Phoenix and Hawks, flame and feather! The Firebird Duo! Ugh. They’d probably get a fucking team name. The Commission would slap them on a poster together, smiling like best friends. Maybe they'd sell matching keychains.

He was going to vomit. Or combust. Or both.

Touya stormed onto the balcony and lit another cigarette with the embers of the last one. The city buzzed below, late-night lights smearing the skyline in neon and noise. He leaned on the railing, white hair flickering faintly in the breeze like the world itself was taunting him.

“Why him,” he muttered aloud. “Why that asshole. Why not Mirko? Or even Eraserhead. Hell, Jeanist. I’d take the denim man over feather-for-brains.”

He inhaled sharply. Let it out slower. Tried to breathe. Tried not to punch the railing.

The thing about Keigo wasn’t that he was just annoying. He was, absolutely, in a way that made Touya’s skin itch and his eye twitch and his hands spark involuntarily.

But worse than that, far worse, was that Hawks was slippery. Too good at smiling, too fast with a joke, always three steps ahead in the public’s eye and never easy to pin down when he got caught in a lie. Touya knew people like him. Had dated people like him. Had been hurt by people like him.
Metaphorically. Mostly.

Hawks was the kind of guy who played nice on camera, threw up peace signs for the paparazzi, and then turned around and stabbed someone in the back because it looked “cleaner than a frontal assault.”

The fact that people adored him just made it worse. Number three hero, Touya scoffed internally. How many backroom deals and fake-ass charity events did that take, huh? How many staged rescues and social media pushes? Touya had earned number two by throwing himself into literal hellholes. He bled for that rank. He burned for it. He didn't play politics, he didn’t charm the press, he didn’t shake hands with CEOs whose buildings collapsed on civilians.

But Hawks? Hawks could smile at a corpse and make it look like a photo op, and Touya hated him for it. And now they were partners.

His phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. Probably mission briefings already, but he didn’t check.

Instead, he went to the bedroom, ripped open his closet, and pulled out his spare combat jacket, the one with the heavier plating and scorched marks from his last solo op. He tossed it on the bed, then yanked the zippers open on his utility pouches and dumped the contents out in a pile. Bandages, cuffs, smoke bombs, all the usual gear.
He dug through it like it owed him money.

“Need to change patrol routes,” he muttered. “He flies high, so I’ll stick to street level. Won’t need him for crowd control, I can handle that with- shit, where are my backup comms…”

He paused, then growled and threw a comm device across the room. It bounced off the wall and clattered to the floor.

The apartment was too quiet and way too clean. He needed to hit something.
Instead, he grabbed a pen and scrawled the word Hawks on a sticky note, then slapped it onto the microwave. He stared at it, then burned the corner of the note until it curled and blackened.

“That’s what’s coming for you, birdbrain.”

Another buzz from his phone. This time he did check.

Message from: Commission Dispatch
Subject: Unit Z Joint Patrol Schedule
Attachments: Route Plans, Priority Zones, Patrol Rotation (August–September)

He opened the attachment and immediately let out the most disgusted sound a human could make.

“Joint patrols scheduled 4x weekly. Debrief every Friday, HQ East Wing. Shared comms channel active 24/7. First mission is set for examination of a building tomorrow. Optional ‘team cohesion exercise’ scheduled for Monday at 6:00PM.”

Team. Cohesion. Exercise.

“Oh hell no.”

He responded with one word: REJECTED.

A minute later: Response from Dispatch: “Acknowledged. Team cohesion marked as mandatory. Refusal will result in disciplinary evaluation. Please review hero contract addendum 4C: ‘Partnered Protocols.’”

Touya stared at the message like it personally insulted his ancestry.

“You’re all cowards,” he told the screen, and then lobbed the phone onto the couch.

He stalked back to the balcony, lit another cigarette, and glared up at the night sky like it might burst into flames if he hated it hard enough.
There was a distant flutter of wings.
For a half-second, Touya squinted.
He swore he saw a shadow pass overhead. Just a flicker, but it was enough to piss him off.
He shouted into the sky: “If that’s you, Takami, I’m putting a fucking net over my balcony!”

No answer. He didn’t expect one. But he left the sliding door open just in case. Let him try it. Let him come fluttering down all casual like, “Oh hey, partner, just flying by!” Let him try that “aww shucks” routine here, in Touya’s personal space. Touya had fire. And no patience.

He exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl up into the wind.

Tomorrow, it all started. Missions. Patrols. Briefings. Being seen with him. Keigo fucking Takami, Number three hero and the Commission’s golden boy. The one person who could get under Touya’s skin with a single smirk.

He took a final drag and flicked the cigarette over the edge, watching it fall like a tiny, burning omen.

“God help me,” he muttered, turning back inside. “If I don’t commit a felony in the next week, it’ll be a miracle.” Touya cracked his knuckles.

Bring it on, birdbrain.

Chapter Text

The sky was offensively blue.

It was the kind of morning that belonged in a toothpaste commercial. Sunny, chirpy, and completely uncalled for, especially considering Touya had been forced to wake up at five in the goddamn morning just to spend time with the one person he’d sell to a villain for a stick of gum and half a lighter. Screw that, he’d probably pay the villain to take the guy.

He landed hard on the rooftop of the dispatch building, smoke curling around his boots as his flames dissipated. His hero costume was already partially unzipped, because fuck regulations, and his scowl could’ve melted steel.

Hawks was already there. Of course he was. Sitting on the ledge with his wings flared for maximum drama, sunglasses on despite the sun barely clearing the skyline, and sipping something out of a to-go cup like he hadn’t gotten two hours of sleep and woken up in a state of pure spiritual violence like normal people.

“Morning, hot stuff ,” Hawks said, not even turning around.

Touya looked at him. He didn’t say anything. Just stared.

“Come on,” Hawks added, grinning without looking, “don’t tell me you’re mad already. We haven’t even gotten our mission brief.”

“I hate your voice,” Touya said.

“Aw. That’s cute.”

“I’d rather die than listen to you speak one more word.”

“Then lucky for you,” Hawks said, hopping to his feet with a flourish, “I’ve got a whole team of interns that would kill to listen to me instead.”

Touya lit his fingertips out of spite. A dispatch agent popped open the rooftop access door before he could incinerate anything, clipboard in hand and looking way too chipper for six a.m.

“Unit Z?” she chirped. “We’re ready for your mission briefing inside.”

“Great,” Touya muttered, dragging his feet toward the door. “Lead me to the torture chamber.”

Hawks followed, hands in his pockets, wings folding neatly behind his back like he didn’t have a single care in the world. Probably didn’t. Bastard thrived on chaos and caffeine.

The briefing room was as bland as everything else the Commission ever touched, with white walls, one screen, and the faint scent of fluorescent despair. A digital projection flared to life as they entered, displaying a 3D map of the Naruhata industrial district.

“An anonymous tip came in this morning,” the coordinator explained as they both dropped into their chairs on opposite ends of the table, of course,“regarding potential villain activity in Warehouse Block 17B.”

She clicked a button. The map zoomed in.

“Cameras in that area have gone dark, and we’ve had no check-in from the local security team. Given the proximity to critical infrastructure, this has been prioritized as a Tier 3 response.”

Touya yawned loudly.

Hawks raised a brow. “Tier 3? That’s barely enough to get out of bed.”

“Then maybe don’t,” Touya snapped. “I’ll handle it myself. You can stay here and chirp at your fan club.”

The coordinator paused, looking between them like she was trying to figure out if this was a joke. It was not.
“Uh… anyway,” she continued carefully, “your objectives are recon, suppression, and apprehension. Civilians have already been cleared from the area, so collateral is low-risk, but the buildings are old and flammable, so maybe… go easy on the fire?”

She looked directly at Touya, to which he gave her a look that said ‘I will not’.

Hawks gave her a thumbs up.

“Got it. Subtle. Stealthy. Minimal property damage,” he said, already lying.

Touya slouched lower in his seat.

“Estimated suspects?” he asked.

“Between three and five, possibly armed. No confirmed quirks.”

Touya snorted. “So, babysitting. Cool.”

“It’s never just three,” Hawks said, shaking his head. “They say three, it’s eight. They say unarmed, one of them has a rocket launcher. One time they said ‘minor threat,’ and I got stabbed with a metal rod.”

Touya stared at him. “What the fuck kind of enemies are you fighting?”

“Classically trained ones, apparently.”

Before Touya could follow that up with a suggestion involving said rod and Hawks’ digestive tract, the screen shut off.

“You leave in fifteen minutes,” the coordinator said. “Good luck.”

Touya was already out of his chair and heading for the door before she finished her sentence. Hawks was close behind him, after thanking the coordinator first.

——

The air over the Naruhata warehouses was thick with humidity and barely-contained tension. Touya stood on one rooftop, Hawks hovering beside him like an overgrown pigeon who refused to fuck off.

“Here’s the plan,” Hawks said, wings twitching. “I sweep from above, scout the layout. You stay grounded, take the perimeter. We converge at the back entrance in ten.”

“I’m not following your plan,” Touya said immediately.

Hawks sighed. “We have to work together for the next two months. You can’t say that every time I suggest something.”

“Watch me.”

“Look, hot stuff-”

“Call me that again and I will set your feathers on fire while you’re midair.”

“I’d make a beautiful firework,” Hawks muttered, but the edge of his voice had sharpened. He wasn’t amused anymore. Not really.

“Just don’t screw it up,” Touya added, stepping toward the edge. “And don’t get seen. If you alert them early, I’m throwing your body through a window.”

“Romantic,” he replied dryly.

With a gust of wind, Hawks took off, wings slicing silently through the early morning haze. Touya watched him for exactly two seconds before muttering, “Show-off,” and dropping to the ground below in a plume of smoke.

Warehouse 17B was a crumbling husk of a building, half its windows boarded and the rest coated in grime. It had seen better decades. The chain-link fence surrounding it was already half torn down, and there was graffiti on the east wall that read “fuck heroes” in bold red kanji. Lovely.

Touya crept toward the side entrance, boots crunching against gravel. He didn’t need stealth, not really, not when the heat of his quirk could melt the locks off any door, but he was still trying to at least pretend to be subtle.

A soft click in his earpiece made him pause.

“Four on the second floor,” Hawks’ voice came through, slightly static.

“Armed. One’s on lookout, other two are arguing about god knows what. Pretty sure one of them’s got some sort of slashing quirk or a sharp weapon. The wall’s got slash marks.”

Touya pressed a finger to his comm. “I’ll take ground floor. Meet me at the rear in five.”

“Copy that, partner.”

Touya snarled. “Stop calling me that.”

“Can’t hear you,” Hawks said cheerfully, already cutting the signal.

The inside of the warehouse was dim and smelled like rust and mold. Touya crept through the side corridor, noting fresh footprints and a discarded cigarette butt that was still warm. Perfect.

He lit his palm and pressed it against the wall near the doorway. The heat bloomed slowly outward, warping the metal and spreading into the next room like a heat wave. Inside, he heard startled shouting, followed by a loud crash.

“Phoenix on site,” he muttered, and kicked the door in.

There were two of them, both armed, one with a nasty-looking machete and the other with some kind of twisted pipe wrench. Real original. They turned toward him, eyes wide.

He grinned. The first blast of fire sent them both scrambling. One tried to dart behind a crate, but Touya was faster, redirecting the flame in a tight arc that sent sparks dancing over the floor.

The machete guy made a break for the window, and got slammed into the wall mid-sprint by a blur of red, knocking him out.

Hawks landed lightly in front of Touya, feathers zipping back to his wings.

“Miss me?” he said.

Touya blinked once. “You took your time.”

“You looked like you were having fun.”

The last two guys, a lanky punk with dyed hair and a bolt gun, and a short guy with a buzz cut, both bolted through a side door.

Hawks didn’t even flinch. “You get them,” he said, already turning toward the stairs. “I’ll take upstairs in case we missed anything.”

“Don’t give me orders.”

“Then don’t suck at your job,” Hawks called back over his shoulder.

Touya swore under his breath and chased the runners through the door, heat building in his lungs. His flames lit up the corridor as he sprinted, boots hitting the ground in rhythmic, furious thuds.

He caught the guys near the loading dock, knocked one of them out with a fist to the face and pinned the other against the wall with a burst of heat, yanking the bolt gun from his hand.

“Tell your friends,” he growled, inches from the guy’s face. “Heroes don’t play fair anymore.”

By the time he got back upstairs, Hawks had already zip-tied the remaining two thugs and was sorting through a crate of suspicious-looking tech.

“Any of this look like quirk suppression gear to you?” he asked casually.

Touya barely glanced. “Not my department.”

Hawks glanced over at him, taking in the soot on his sleeves and the singed edges of his jacket. “You know, for a guy who hates teamwork, you’re weirdly good at fighting beside me.”

“For the record,” Touya said, stalking past him, “if you’d been in my way even once, I would’ve set you on fire.”

“And for the record,” Hawks said, “I would’ve looked great flaming.”

Touya didn’t stop walking, didn’t turn around. Just muttered, “Next time, I’m pushing you through a skylight.”

Behind him, Hawks laughed.

The sun was higher now, bleeding gold across the rooftops.

And somehow, the sky still looked too damn blue.

Chapter Text

The rest of Touya’s day after his and Hawks’ first mission went worse than it usually did.

First, he had to deal with a robbery and ended up chasing the villain for an entire hour before eventually catching him. It turns out the guy had a short distance teleportation quirk, so catching him was an absolute nightmare. To say the least, it was humiliating for it to have taken so long.

Then later in the day a swarm of interviewers caught him whilst he was on his lunch break. Touya usually managed to avoid them, but it seemed like the universe hated him that day. He ended up spending his entire break talking politely as possible to interviewers whilst holding back from setting the nearest building on fire out of frustration.

To make matters worse, all they seemed to be asking about was how he and Hawks were on their mission together, and how Touya was going to deal with them working together in the future.

It wasn’t exactly secret that Phoenix and Hawks disliked each other, considering how often they were caught on camera arguing, or seen in interviews talking about how much the other irritated them. There was multiple debates online about if there was any other heroes that hated each other as much as Hawks and Phoenix did. The answer was, there wasn’t.

So when Touya got back to his place that night, it was easy to say that he was pissed. He unlocked his door and kicked it open with the same energy he reserved for shoving people out of the way in crowded alleys.

The door, which had a dent from a previous encounter with his boot, creaked like it was personally offended but didn’t dare resist him. He stepped into his apartment with soot still smudged along his jaw and adrenaline clinging to his ribs like static.

He didn’t bother turning on the lights. The glow from the city outside was enough, slivers of neon slicing through his shitty blinds, turning the cluttered living room into a half-lit mess of shadows and sharp corners. His jacket hit the couch. His boots hit the floor. His body hit the wall, as he leaned against it and just stood there, exhaling like it hurt.

The mission had gone “fine,” which, in Touya’s world, meant: no civilian casualties, no villain escapes, minimal property damage, some arson. And, unfortunately, Hawks was okay.

Touya rubbed a hand over his face and muttered, “God, I hate that guy.”

Right on cue, his phone buzzed.

He ignored it and instead walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Then closed it again after staring into the void of expired leftovers and half a bottle of hot sauce. There was a takeout menu stuck to the freezer with a magnet that said “#1 Hero!”which was probably left by Shouto the last time he visited, which made it more insulting. The little shit always left random “gifts” in Touya’s apartment.

The phone buzzed again. Then again. Then five more times.

“What the fuck,” he growled, snatching it off the counter and squinting at the screen.

[12 UNREAD MESSAGES – ‘Todoroki Family Chat 💬🔥❄️’]

Touya groaned. He should’ve known. He tapped the screen and braced himself.

——

Fuyumi (7:03 PM):

Heard you had a mission with Hawks today!
Please don’t set the city on fire.

Natsuo (7:05 PM):

too late I saw smoke on the news.
was that u?

Shouto (7:06 PM):

If you’re the reason my train was delayed, I will personally ice your kneecaps

Fuyumi (7:06 PM):

SHOUTO.

Rei (7:07 PM):

Are you eating enough? You looked thin on the last news clip. Also, please don’t fight with your coworkers again.

Natsuo (7:08 PM):

was it Hawks?
Touya hates that guy

Fuyumi (7:09 PM):

We are NOT investigating Touya’s private arguments, Natsuo.

Natsuo (7:09 PM):

i’m not investigating i’m just curious

Enji (7:10 PM):

Touya. Send me the mission report.

Fuyumi (7:10 PM):

You could say hi first.

Rei (7:11 PM):

Or ask how his day was.

Shouto (7:11 PM):

Or acknowledge he exists as a human being with feelings.

Enji (7:12 PM):

Touya. Mission report.

——

Touya stared at the last message like it might explode.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he muttered. Then, thumbs flying, he typed:

——

Touya (7:13 PM):

didn’t die. didn’t kill anyone (barely). report over.

——

He hit send then immediately muted the chat. He tossed the phone onto the couch and collapsed beside it, running a hand through his hair. Half of it stuck up at stupid angles. His skin still smelled faintly of smoke and burned wood. He should shower. Or sleep. Or set his phone on fire and disappear into the mountains.

Instead: buzz buzz. He’d just muted his family group chat and hardly had any other contacts. Who the fuck would be messaging him?

He growled and picked the phone back up. It was a new number. No contact name. And the first message was already giving him hives.

——

Unknown (7:17 PM):

hey partner :)

——

“Oh fuck no.”

Touya stared at the screen in horror, thumb hovering over the block button. Then the next message came in.

——

Unknown (7:18 PM):

this is Hawks btw

got ur number from Endeavor
don’t blame me, blame ur dad

——

Touya immediately texted Enji.

——

Touya (7:18 PM):

what the actual fuck is wrong with you

Enji (7:19 PM):

He requested your number for coordination.
 You’re partners now. Act like it.

Touya (7:19 PM):

he used a smiley face

that’s not coordination
that’s harassment

——

The reply didn’t come. Enji probably threw his phone at a wall. Good. Another buzz.

——

featherfuck (7:20 PM):

don’t leave me on read hot stuff

you’re supposed to communicate

——

Touya gritted his teeth so hard it was audible. He tapped out a reply, slow and venomous.

——

Touya (7:20 PM):

if you ever call me hot stuff again i will legally change your name to pigeon and set your wings on fire

——

Hawks didn’t reply at first, but when he did it made Touya’s quirk flare up.

——

featherfuck (7:21 PM):

That’s hot

Touya (7:22 PM):

BLOCKED

——

Except he didn’t block him. Instead, he stared at the screen, debating whether to throw the phone into a wall or set it on fire. His fingers hovered until Hawks eventually replied.

——

featherfuck (7:22 PM):

ok ok chill

just wanted to check in

make sure you didn’t die of heatstroke or spontaneous rage combustion or something

featherfuck (7:23):

also i left my carved knife on one of the crates

if u melted it i’m charging you

those things are expensive and handmade

——

Touya paused and frowned at the message.

——

Touya (7:23 PM):

didn’t touch it
it looked diseased

——

Hawks responded with a voice note. Touya stared at it like it was cursed, then hit play out of morbid curiosity.

“You’re so mean to me, Phoenix. I’m sensitive. Okay that was a lie. You can’t just throw words like ‘diseased’ around. You’re gonna make me cry. Also you owe me a coffee. Mission tradition. First patrol, first caffeine bribe. It’s in the handbook. Look it up.”

Touya scoffed and immediately typed out his reply.

——

Touya (7:25 PM):

you think i’m buying you coffee?

featherfuck (7:25 PM):

yes :)

Touya (7:26 PM):

then your brain is also diseased

——

For a peaceful couple of minutes, Touya’s phone was silent. The silence didn’t last long, as his phone buzzed moments later.

——

featherfuck (7:28 PM):

you texting back this fast feels flirty

should i be blushing?

——

Touya let out an inhuman noise and slapped a hand over his face.

——

Touya (7:28 PM):

i will actually burn your apartment down

featherfuck (7:29 PM):

joke’s on you

i live in a Commission owned building

they’ll rebuild it for me

——

The worst part was that Touya could picture the stupid grin on his face. Hear the smug lilt that Hawks would used if he said that. The guy was basically engraved in Touya’s brain, much to his disappointment.

He slumped sideways on the couch and groaned into a cushion. He needed therapy. Or a drink. Or to drop his location and let Hawks show up just so Touya could punch him in person.

But instead he looked at the message thread again. And didn’t delete it. Didn’t block him. Didn’t even mute it. He just let the phone sit on his chest while the city lit up around him and his apartment pulsed with the distant hum of traffic and neon and the terrible realization that maybe, just maybe, he hated Hawks more because he couldn’t stop thinking about him.

And that was worse. Way worse.

Chapter Text

The next morning started with his alarm getting thrown across the room and shattering against the wall. It wasn’t even the alarm’s fault, honestly. It was the concept of the alarm. The idea that Touya had to wake up again and do this entire shitshow of a partnership thing again. With him.

Touya groaned and rolled out of bed like gravity was a personal enemy. His bones popped in protest and his eyes felt like they were made of sandpaper. The morning sun poured in through the blinds like it wanted to piss him off, which it succeeded in doing.

He shuffled into the bathroom, hair sticking up in every direction, and stared into the mirror like it had personally betrayed him. His reflection stared back: tired, grouchy, and already regretting not just blocking Hawks last night.

“Should’ve committed arson,” he muttered, turning on the water to splash his face. “Would’ve saved me the trouble.”

His phone buzzed from the nightstand.
He ignored it. It buzzed again. Still ignored. Then it buzzed again, but this time, twice in quick succession. That was the universal sign for “Hawks is being a persistent asshole.”

Touya, didn’t bother drying his face, instead dripping water onto the floor, stomped over and grabbed it. Sure enough:

——

featherfuck (6:45AM):
rise n shine, fireball
bring me coffee or i’ll cry
i’m already at the rendezvous.
early bird and all that.
get it? because i’m a bird

——

Touya closed the chat. Just closed it. Didn’t reply, didn't throw the phone. Not because of self-control, he just didn’t want to have to buy another one again.

Twenty minutes later, he was dressed in full hero gear, black combat boots, flame-resistant jacket, black cargos, and still full of rage. His scarf was half-draped, half-scorched, because the fabric caught fire briefly when he reread the phrase “rise n shine” out loud.

As he left the apartment, he slammed the door with enough force to make his upstairs neighbor stomp once. He flipped them off despite the fact that they couldn’t see him.

The rendezvous point was a rooftop above a train station, busy and loud even at seven in the goddamn morning. Touya landed hard, boots cracking a tile as smoke coiled around his ankles. He was actually on time for once. He hated that.

Even worse: Hawks was there already. “Morning, partner!” Hawks chirped, reclining on the edge of the building like he wasn’t a walking PR stunt. His wings flared in the wind, a little too flashy for this hour. His sunglasses were still on. His hero jacket was unzipped to the waist, shirt rumpled, coffee cup in hand.

“Nice of you to show up looking like you lost a fight with your bed.”

“I did lose a fight,” Touya snapped, marching past him. “With the will to live.”

Hawks whistled low. “Oof. That’s dark even for you. You need breakfast?”

“I need you to spontaneously combust.”

“Aw, so grumpy. Is this because I called you ‘fireball’ in my texts? Or is this still about the team cohesion exercise you tried to reject?”

Touya stopped, turned on him with a dead stare. “Tried to reject?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Hawks said, and he looked way too pleased with himself. “Commission told me about your reply. Ten out of ten rage typing, by the way. But Dispatch said no, remember? It’s in our contract. Addendum 4C. I memorized it. Want me to quote it back?”

“No,” Touya said. “In fact, if you quote anything this morning, I’m setting your coat on fire and pushing you off this roof.”

“I’d just fly,” Hawks said, fluttering his wings lazily. “You’d have to try harder than that.”

Touya exhaled slowly, like he was counting down the seconds until murder became legally acceptable. “What’s the route today?”

Hawks stood, stretching with a grunt. “Mid-district patrol, Sector 7 through 11. Civ-heavy. High foot traffic, so we’re being visible. Smiles, waves, the whole ‘we care about you’ vibe. You know. Your worst nightmare.”

Touya blinked. “Sector 7?”

“Yep.”

“That’s where the mall is.”

“Mmhmm.”

“The mall. On a Saturday.”

“Oh yeah. Prime PR exposure,” Hawks said cheerfully. “Commission’s already expecting some footage. You did sign the waiver, right?”

“I didn’t read it,” Touya growled.

Hawks sipped his coffee. “Tragic.”

They launched together, Hawks taking the skies, Touya dropping to street level in a controlled burst of fire. They synced comms (against Touya’s will) and started the route.

Sector 7 was bustling. Packed with civilians, vendors, the occasional side street performer. Touya loathed it on sight. He preferred low-population zones. Seedy alleys. Buildings you could blow up without worrying about civilians getting in the way.

Hawks swooped low above the crowd, wings tucked in to glide between signs and lamp posts like the bastard show-off he was. Touya stayed ground-level, hands in his pockets, smoke trailing behind him in thin, moody curls.

They passed a couple of Commission scouts disguised as tourists. Touya flipped one off when they tried to take a photo. Hawks, naturally, saluted them.
Five minutes in, a fan approached.

“Oh my god!” the girl squealed. “Phoenix and Hawks?! Together?!”

Touya braced himself.

“Hi!” Hawks said, landing lightly beside him and putting on his megawatt smile. “Yeah, patrol day. We’re keeping things safe out here.”

“Can I get a pic? Both of you?”

Before Touya could say “Absolutely not,” Hawks elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

“C’mon,” he muttered. “Just one. I’ll owe you.”

Touya glared. “You already owe me. You owe me five years of peace and an exorcism.”

The fan blinked. “Is he always this-”

“Yes,” Hawks said. “It’s part of the charm.”

They posed. Touya smiled but it was very reluctant. In fact, he looked vaguely like he was plotting how to incinerate the phone. Hawks threw up a peace sign.

“Thanks!!” the fan chirped and scampered off.

“See?” Hawks said. “You didn’t combust.”

“I was close.”

“You didn’t, though.”

“I will.”

By the time they hit Sector 9, the mall was visible on the horizon, glittering like a capitalist hell beacon.

Touya was already sweating under the collar. Not because of heat, that didn’t really bother him since he was used to it, but because he knew what was coming.

Crowds. Reporters. More fans. Probably some dumb merchandise stand selling stupid keychains with both their faces on them.

“I swear,” he muttered, “if anyone calls us a duo again, I’m calling in a bomb threat.”

“Too late,” Hawks said. “We already are a duo. It's in the hero app. Check the homepage.”

Touya froze. “What.”

Hawks grinned. “Yeah. Trending tag: #FireBirdFridays.”

Touya stared at him. “You did this.”

“I didn’t start it,” Hawks said innocently. “I just encouraged it.”

Touya raised a single, shaking hand. Fire lit across his fingertips. “Say it again,” he growled. “Say ‘FireBird Fridays’ one more time.”

Hawks just laughed, wings catching the sun in a way that made Touya want to punch the nearest thing.

And then, of course, because fate had a sick sense of humour, a reporter was waiting outside the mall entrance. Microphone already up. Cameraman in tow.

“Heroes Phoenix and Hawks!” she beamed. “Any words for the fans this weekend?”

Touya took one step forward but Hawks lightly nudged him back.

“Of course!” Hawks said, turning to the camera. “We’re just out here doing our jobs. Keeping the streets safe. Making sure people know they can trust the pro hero network.”

Touya was vibrating with fury.

The reporter smiled, then turned to him. “And you, Phoenix? What’s it like working with the number three hero?”

Touya slowly turned to the camera, gaze flat, voice low.

“He is the most irritating person i could possibly be near.”

The reporter blinked. “...right.”

Cut to commercial. The interview didn’t make it to the air, and Touya was very proud of that. Unfortunately, Hawks looked even prouder.

“Look at you,” he said as they entered the mall, tone bright with smugness. “A whole sentence on camera without setting something on fire. Character growth.”

Touya didn’t answer. Mostly because he was busy pretending not to torch the first Firebird-themed merchandise kiosk he saw.

There were T-shirts. There were mugs. There were little plushies of them, for god’s sake. Hawks had his dumb, grinning face and mini felt wings, and Touya’s was just a scowling ball of fire with blue stitching and little angry eyebrows.

Touya stared at it like it had spat on his mother.

“Don’t,” Hawks said, appearing beside him, coffee refill in hand. “That stand belongs to a single mom trying to pay off her daughter’s college debt. I like to get to know some of the civilians believe it or not.”

“I haven’t even said anything yet.”

“Your flames are coming out of your sleeves.”

Touya glanced down. He hadn’t even noticed. “...Subconscious rage,” he muttered. “Comes with the job.”

He turned and kept walking, muttering something under his breath about how many pigeons he’d have to sacrifice to make this day end early.

Hawks caught up easily, walking a little too close. His wing knocked against Touya’s shoulder once, on accident, or “accident.” Hard to tell with that bastard.

“So,” Hawks said, tone fake-casual, “I’ve been thinking.”

Touya snorted. “There’s your first mistake.”

Hawks ignored him. “Since we’re stuck on patrol together four days a week-”
“Tragic.”
“-we should work out a rhythm. Divide up duties. Tactical balance, you know?”

“Oh, I see. You mean you want me to do all the legwork while you smile for the cameras and drink overpriced coffee.”

“Well,” Hawks said, pretending to think about it. “Yes.”

Touya’s eye twitched. “I will throw you through the nearest window.”

“Can’t you even pretend to like me for just one minute?”

“I would rather set every last one of your feathers on fire.”

Before Hawks could respond, their comms clicked to life.

Dispatch (7:55AM): “Unit Z, be advised: civilian report of suspicious activity near East Pavilion Service Corridor. Two unidentified individuals accessing restricted areas. Proceed to investigate.”

“Copy,” Hawks said immediately, already veering toward the east wing escalators. “On it.”

Touya groaned. “Of course this place has a service corridor. Nothing says hero work like chasing petty thieves past a Sephora.”

They moved fast. Touya took the ground route, weaving through early-morning shoppers with exactly the right amount of menace to clear a path. Hawks glided above, wings tucking close to avoid being seen.

At the service corridor, Touya spotted movement. Two figures, mid-twenties maybe, in bulky jackets and cheap knock-off black masks. Real subtle.
He grabbed his comm.

“Visual confirmed. Two suspects. Trying to hotwire a supply access panel. No weapons visible.”

Hawks’ voice came back, crisp and low. “Copy. Dropping down.”

One of the suspects looked up just in time to see a flash of red and get flattened by a feather pinning his jacket to the wall.

The other tried to run.

Touya cracked his knuckles. “Don’t.”

The guy didn’t listen. They never did.
Touya sighed, lifted one hand, and let a stream of flame block the exit like a curtain. The guy skidded to a halt, backpedaled, and ended up tripping over his own shoelaces like a bad sitcom extra.

“Amateur hour,” Touya muttered, stepping over him to check the panel they were messing with. Looked like they’d tried to tap into the mall’s internal security feed. Idiots.

“Tech crime,” Hawks said, crouching beside the other one. “Probably some livestream nonsense. Bet they’ve got a channel called something like‘Exposing Heroes: Truth & Lies.’”

Touya kicked the nearest backpack open. Sure enough, there was a cheap handheld camera inside and some janky-looking transmitters. “No real skill. Just enough tools to be annoying.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Hawks said.

Touya didn’t look up. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“Mean,” Hawks muttered, but he was smiling.

They called it in. Security arrived, thanked them excessively, and escorted the wannabe vigilante streamers off to the nearest Commission van. The taller one kept trying to get Hawks to say something for their channel.

Hawks smiled, waved, and said, “Stay in school.”

Touya leaned against the wall, unimpressed. “You’re encouraging them.”

“Nah,” Hawks said. “I’m building my villain-to-fan redemption arc. It’s very in right now.”

After that, the rest of the patrol went quiet. They looped around Sector 11, did a quick flyover of the park for good measure, and returned to their assigned endpoint: a rooftop above the Central Line.

Touya landed first and immediately sat down on a ventilation grate, stretching out his legs like his patience had expired.

Hawks landed beside him with a soft thump, wings flaring once before settling against his back. He flopped down next to Touya, close again. Too close. Always too close.

There was a beat of silence. Just the distant city hum, the occasional train horn, the crackle of a flame that Touya was watching in his palm.

“You know,” Hawks said, “for someone who hates teamwork, you’re pretty good at it.”

Touya snorted. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I’m just saying. We didn’t screw anything up today.”

“Yet.”

“We’re trending again.”

Touya turned his head slowly. “What did you just say to me.”

Hawks held up his phone. The screen showed a news clip from the mall. The title: ‘Phoenix and Hawks Foil Tech Heist. Again! Hero Duo Blazes a Trail!’

“Someone called us ‘blazing hot’ in the comments,” Hawks said, scrolling. “Another one said we have ‘fire and feather chemistry.’ That doesn’t even make sense.”

Touya made a sound like his soul was exiting his body. “I hate everything.”

“Oh! Look, someone made art of us.” Hawks zoomed in on a fan post showing a chibi doodle of them, Touya growling with little cartoon flames, and Hawks offering him a heart-shaped feather. “We’re adorable.”

“I will actually die.”

“We should do an interview together.”

“I will kill you first.”

Hawks grinned and leaned back, arms folded behind his head. “Well, either way. You didn’t murder me today.”

“Don’t mistake patience for mercy.”

“Still counts,” Hawks said. “Progress.”

They sat in silence a while longer, the wind tugging gently at their hair, the heat from Touya’s body keeping the chill off.

Then Hawks said, “Hey… thanks for not torching the merch stand.”

Touya raised a brow. “I was one plushie away.”

Hawks chuckled. “Yeah. I saw.”

Touya looked out over the skyline, then muttered, “Don’t expect a repeat.”

Hawks nudged his shoulder. “Wasn’t asking for one.”

Touya didn’t shove him off the roof. Which, in his language, was practically a hug.

When Hawks eventually stood to leave, he looked down at him and said, “Same time tomorrow, hot stuff.”

Touya, without hesitation, replied: “Die in a fire.”

And yet Touya didn’t make a move to threaten Hawks with a flame or tell him
he’d block him. He just watched him as he shot through the sky.

Touya waited for a minute longer before finally getting up and stepping off the roof, using his fire to soften the fall.

The walk home was always longer after patrol. Not because of distance, but because Touya insisted on taking the long way, zigzagging down alleys, ignoring main roads, bypassing hero-friendly routes entirely. It wasn’t avoidance, it was just preference.

He needed the noise to die down. The scent of people to fade. The weight of being seen to lift off his shoulders like molasses dripping off a blade.

Also, he just liked alleys. They didn’t talk, didn’t smile at him, didn’t chirp at him about PR ratings or “team synergy.” And most importantly, they didn’t have wings.

Touya kicked a bottle into the gutter as he turned onto his block. The sun was dipping behind the skyline, bathing everything in a sharp yellow hue. The kind of color that made you feel like your day had been stained in nicotine.

Perfect, really.

By the time he reached the entrance to his apartment building, he’d burned through half a cigarette and most of his remaining patience. The lobby was empty, just the faint hum of the vending machine and the soft flicker of a lightbulb that’d been threatening to die since February.

He took the stairs. Elevators were for people with good luck and better judgment. Up three flights, through a hallway that smelled like curry and despair, and then to his room. Unit 304.

Touya knew he could afford something much better than the apartment he currently lived in, but the didn’t mean he wanted to. He actually preferred it to living in some fancy-ass building he wouldn’t want to be in.

He shoved the key into the lock, kicked the door open with the toe of his boot, and stepped into darkness.

The apartment wasn’t big. A narrow kitchen, a cramped bathroom, one main room that served as a bedroom/living room/war room hybrid. It was messy in the way a room gets when someone uses it like a storage closet for their thoughts: clothes draped on chairs, mismatched mugs stacked in the sink, and half a dozen open notebooks spread across the coffee table.

He dropped his scarf on the floor, toed his boots off, and yanked off his jacket with a grunt. The damn thing was always way too tight. Like the Commission had intentionally designed it to cause blood clots. He dropped it and it landed on the floor with a soft thump.

Touya exhaled hard through his nose and peeled off the rest of his gear, piece by piece, until he was left in just cargos and a black tank top, pale scars peeking out along his collar and shoulders. His skin was still humming faintly from residual fire output. Not enough to hurt, just enough to remind him he was still warm, which was good because it was cold as shit in this apartment.

He lit the stove without touching it, letting a lazy ribbon of flame curl out of his hand and into the burner. Water went on to boil, something instant and aggressively salty thrown in. He wasn’t hungry, really, just restless.

The kettle whistled. The noodles boiled. Something on the wall creaked. Touya stared at nothing.

After a minute, he ate standing up, hunched over the counter like a prisoner, chopsticks scraping the bottom of the plastic bowl. When it was gone, he tossed the whole thing in the trash and walked to the bathroom, shedding his tank top on the way.

The mirror greeted him with a version of himself that looked worse under fluorescent light. More sunken. More tired. More... not annoyed, exactly. Not angry, either. Something else. Something gnawing at the base of his skull like a parasite with anxiety.

He brushed his teeth violently, rinsed, and didn’t bother wiping the water off his face before leaving.

Back in the main room, he collapsed onto the futon, if it could be called that, with all the grace of a dropped corpse. The ceiling fan spun overhead like it had a grudge against him.

Touya rolled onto his side and reached for his phone. There were two notifications. 
One from the hero dispatch app. (Briefed again on your next partner debrief?)

Ignored.

And one from the group chat.

——

Fuyumi (6:19 PM):
Shoto, are you sure you don’t want to come for dinner tomorrow? Natsuo says he’ll cook and not burn it this time lol.
Touya, I’m assuming you’ll pretend not to see this unless I bribe you with alcohol.

——

Touya snorted. He stared at the blinking cursor for a full thirty seconds before typing.

——

Touya (7:01 PM):
tell him the last thing he made was a hate crime
if i show up i’m bringing pizza. don’t ask questions

——

Fuyumi started typing immediately.

——

Fuyumi (7:01 PM):
Victory.
I’ll stock the fridge with that awful beer you like.
Also is it true you’re doing patrol with Hawks now?? I saw it on HeroNet.

——

Touya’s thumb hovered over the keyboard. Then, finally:

——

Touya (7:02 PM):
lies

i’ve been framed
i don’t know that man

——

Fuyumi replied with a gif of a suspicious owl. Touya turned the phone over and dropped it onto the pillow beside him.
The room fell back into silence. The only sound now was the slow, repetitive clack of the ceiling fan chain tapping against the base every time it rotated. He stared at it. Counted the revolutions. One. Two. Three.

His brain betrayed him. Wings. Feathers. Smirking lips. Sunglasses. Red. The way Hawks said “hot stuff” like it was just a nickname. Like it wasn’t laced with some underlying meaning, or worse, some kind of flirting.

Touya sat immediately up. Nope. He got up and walked to the window, opened it, and stuck his head out into the night air like a dog in a car. The cold slapped him in the face. Good.

He closed the window again and paced once around the room, like that would fix whatever chemical imbalance was happening in his skull.

“Stupid bird,” he muttered. “Stupid annoying bird with his dumb grins and his perfect media-approved hair and his smug voice like he’s constantly one wink away from doing finger guns.”

He flopped back down on the mattress and closed his eyes only to open them again two seconds later. Why the hell did he remember the exact pattern of Hawks’ feathers? That wasn’t normal. That wasn’t right. You weren’t supposed to know your co-worker’s features by memory.

He grabbed the pillow and shoved it over his face. This was fine. This was completely fine.

It was hatred. That’s what it was. Pure, uncut, blazing fury. The kind of hatred that sizzled under the skin and made you want to set your own bones on fire just to get rid of the feeling. Not because of anything personal, obviously. He didn’t care about Keigo Takami on a personal level. Why would he? He was just a flashy, feathered PR machine with too much charm and not enough boundaries. It wasn’t about him. It was about the way he existed.

Touya groaned into the pillow. “I’m going to kill him.”

His phone buzzed again. He ignored it. Then, begrudgingly, rolled over and looked.

——

featherfuck (7:13 PM):
u get home ok?
try not to set anything on fire

——

Touya stared at it for a long time before finally replying.

——

Touya (7:15 PM):
i wanted to set a mannequin on fire at the mall earlier
and also tell PR to suck it
but that’s about it

featherfuck (7:15 PM):
they already do suck.
that’s how we got into this mess

——

Touya’s face twitched. He didn’t smile. His lips twitched. That was different. He set the phone back down and didn’t reply again. Not because he didn’t have anything to say, but because anything he would say would sound way too much like something normal, and he was not, he absolutely was not, sliding into the casual chat vibe with Hawks like this was some budding friendship.

Hatred. It was hatred. That’s why his heart was doing that thing. It was rage palpitations. That was a real thing, probably. He’d Google it in the morning. He turned the lights off, rolled over, and yanked the blanket up to his chin.

In the darkness, his eyes stayed open longer than they should have. Thoughts trailing like embers behind his eyelids. Wings. Laughter. Too-close shoulders. The shape of a smirk that made Touya want to smash his head through drywall.

He fell asleep ten minutes later, dreaming of feathers falling through smoke.

Chapter Text

Touya already considered setting the building on fire. He stood outside the Commission’s “Training & Development Annex,” which sounded like a gym married a corporate office and died miserable. The place had the same sterile, personality-deprived aesthetic as every other HQ building: off-white walls, glass panels, and that faint, lemon-scented air freshener smell that screamed “we hate you, but we want you to think we’re friendly.”

His boots scraped the tile as he walked through the front entrance. No fanfare. No receptionist. Just a biometric scanner and a sign that read:
“Welcome, Pro Heroes! Your Team Cohesion Session is waiting in Room 4B!”
It was complete with a smiley face sticker next to the exclamation point. He wanted to punch it.

“Room 4B,” Touya muttered, glancing down the bland hallway, already regretting every decision that led to this moment. “Couldn’t even put me in 6F, where they store the broken VR gear. I’d rather fight glitched-out holograms than breathe the same air as that birdbrain for another hour.”

It had been… what, four days? Four days of patrols. Four days of being stuck in cramped briefing rooms with Hawks’ dumb sunglasses and even dumber comments. Four days of pretending not to hear him humming pop songs during stakeouts. Four days of ignoring how Hawks kept offering him food like they were friends and not mortal enemies who happened to share a comm line.

And now this.

“Team Cohesion Exercise” which was the Commission’s fancy way of saying “You two need therapy but we can’t legally call it that.”

Touya stopped outside Room 4B, glared at the frosted glass like it personally insulted him, then shoved the door open. And, of course, Hawks was already there. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the wall like he didn’t have a spine, tossing a stress ball in the air and catching it with a single feather every time it fell.

The moment the door opened, Hawks grinned without even looking.

“Hey, partner.”

Touya stared. Then shut the door behind him with a very deliberate click.

“I hope that stress ball explodes and embeds itself in your eye socket.”

Hawks finally looked up, still smiling like Touya hadn’t threatened him at least fourteen times this week alone.

“I asked for a taser ball,” he said. “Apparently that’s not ‘in line with corporate safety policy.’”

“You’d think the Commission would let you get electrocuted for team bonding. Missed opportunity.”

“Oh, I think they’re saving that for stage three.”

Touya looked around. The room was… honestly pathetic. Windowless. Gray. Empty aside from a low table in the center with a pitcher of water, two metal folding chairs (both of which Hawks had blatantly ignored), and a tiny projector screen rolled up on the far wall.

A sign taped to the table read:
WELCOME UNIT Z! PLEASE BE CIVIL.
He read it twice, then incinerated the corner with a flick of his finger.

Hawks whistled. “Wow. We’re not even ten seconds in.”

“I’m being civil,” Touya said, voice flat. “If I was being uncivil, the water would be boiling and your shirt would be on fire.”

Hawks looked down at his shirt, it was tight, red, and clearly chosen to show off, and smirked. “I like this shirt.”

Touya sat down in the chair farthest from him and put his boots up on the table, knocking the pitcher with his heel. “You’re the color of a traffic light, Takami. You’re hard to miss, not admire.”

Hawks flapped a lazy wing in his direction. “First, don’t call me that, second, you do admire me. Secretly.”

Touya didn’t respond. Mostly because he was actively picturing Hawks accidentally hitting a billboard mid-flight. One of those giant ones with an ad for commission-approved deodorant. It would be ironic.

The door creaked open again. Both of them turned, ready to pretend they hadn’t just been bickering like divorced reality show contestants, and in walked a perky, short-haired Commission rep in business casual with a clipboard and the energy of a sleep-deprived intern hopped up on green tea and capitalism.

“Hi there!” she chirped. “You must be Unit Z!”

Touya did not answer but Hawks gave a little wave.

“Oh, I’ve heard so much about you two,” she said, practically vibrating with excitement. “You’re our most talked-aboutpair this week!”

Touya leveled a stare at her so dry it could’ve sanded wood.

Hawks leaned in with a grin. “Hope it’s been glowing.”

“Oh, well, y’know,” she said, flipping through the clipboard without meeting their eyes. “Words like volatile,combustible, and legally actionable have come up, but hey! We like a little spice in our partnerships, right?”

Touya raised a brow. “You realize I’m not bound by HR rules once I walk out of this room, right?”

“Ohhh, he’s kidding,” she laughed nervously. “You’re funny. Phoenix, right? Love your work. So intense. So raw.”

Touya gave her a slow blink that clearly said ‘do not ever say “raw” around me again’.

She cleared her throat. “Right. So! Let’s get started!”

Hawks muttered, “Can’t wait.”

Touya muttered, “Can’t kill you yet.”

The rep ignored both of them and pulled out a remote, clicking a button that lowered the projector screen. A little jingle played, one of those infuriating, upbeat stock tracks that made you want to eat drywall, and a slideshow popped up titled:
“Building Trust: The Foundation of Heroic Synergy!”

Touya looked at Hawks. “This is punishment. This is a war crime.”

Hawks shrugged. “Eh. Could be worse. They could’ve sent us to the team guiding like they did to Edgeshot and Mt. Lady.”

“They what?”

“Yeah. Something about miscommunication on the field. He ended up in a hot tub. She punched a dolphin statue. It was online for, like, three hours before PR nuked it.”

Touya covered his face with one hand.

The Commission rep clapped once. “Okay! We’re going to start with a few bonding exercises!”

“Hard pass,” Touya said.

“Mandatory,” she said, smiling like she hadn’t heard him.

She pulled a small envelope from the table and waved it in the air. “First up: The Compliment Challenge!”

Touya immediately stood up. “Nope.”

“Oh, sit down, drama king,” Hawks said, stretching out on the floor. “You’ve faced flame-retardant assassins and walked through molten buildings. You can survive saying something nice.”

“I’d rather walk into a molten building.”

The rep cleared her throat. “The rules are simple! Each of you has to say three genuine compliments about the other.”

Touya’s glare could’ve burned through titanium. Hawks beamed like this was his birthday party.

“I’ll go first!” he said, sitting up with suspicious enthusiasm.

“Oh no,” Touya muttered. “No, don’t-”
“Phoenix is incredibly powerful,” Hawks began. “He has an impressively destructive quirk, an iconic aesthetic, and the kind of anger that can scare most villains. In a good way.”

Touya stared. “Was that three compliments or just two and one backhanded insult in a trench coat?”

Hawks held up a feather like a peace offering. “It was three compliments. What can I say? I’m gifted.”

The rep turned to Touya. “Your turn!”

“I have a better idea,” Touya said. “How about I list three things I hate slightly less about him than the rest of his entire existence?”

The rep’s smile faltered. Hawks looked positively delighted.

Touya rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “Hawks is… competent. Mostly. He doesn’t talk during missions, which I appreciate. And… he hasn’t gotten us killed. Yet.”

Hawks put a hand over his heart. “I’m touched. Really. I might cry.”

“Do it,” Touya said. “I dare you. Ruin the floors.”

The rep blinked slowly. “…Great! Great start! Let’s, um, take a quick five-minute break and reconvene with the Trust Exercise Tower Challenge!”

Touya stared.

Hawks tilted his head. “That sounds fake.”

She pointed to a corner of the room, where a stack of foam blocks had been ominously waiting the whole time.

The room suddenly felt twenty degrees hotter.

Touya turned to Hawks, voice like a growl. “If you even think about building something with me, I’m burning this place to the foundation.”

Hawks looked at the blocks. Then at Touya. Then at the rep.

He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’m great at foundations.”

Touya was going to snap and they weren’t even halfway through this hell yet.

Five minutes was a goddamn lie. Touya paced the far side of the room like a caged animal, barely refraining from setting the carpet on fire. The break wasn’t long enough to escape, but it was just long enough for Hawks to find a stash of Commission-brand granola bars and crack two open like they were beers on a beach.

“Want one?” he asked around a bite.

Touya glared. “I want to suffocate you with the wrapper.”

“Aw, that’s basically a love language for you right? It’s less threatening than usual.”

Touya grabbed the nearest chair and dragged it with him back toward the table. Not picked it up. Dragged it. Loudly. Just to make a point.

He sat down and shoved his hands in his pockets, brooding so hard he probably produced enough heat to warp the air around him.

The rep, chipper in that fake, Commission-certified way that made his left eye twitch, bounced back into the room with the kind of enthusiasm you only got from a) caffeine, b) contractual obligation, or c) both.

“Okay, heroes! Hope we’re feeling recharged!”

Hawks gave her a thumbs up. Touya did not move.

“Next exercise!” she chirped, gesturing to the corner like she was unveiling a war crime. “The Trust Tower Challenge! You’ll work together to build a tower using those foam blocks over there. One of you will stack, and the other will stabilize! It’s all about teamwork and trust!”

Silence.

This was ridiculously childish. Touya blinked slowly, then turned to Hawks. “I’m going to let you choose which of us is stacking, and which of us is stabilizing. Either way, I will be launching the tower at your face the second we’re done.”

Hawks grinned. “Ooh, choices. You’re spoiling me.”

“Pick.”

“I’ll stack,” Hawks said, already moving toward the foam blocks like this was a goddamn field trip.

Touya sighed through his nose, stomped over, and crouched beside the pile of colorful cubes and rectangles. They looked soft. Innocent. Unassuming.

He was going to make them suffer.

The rep set a timer. “Okay! You have fifteen minutes to build the tallest tower you can. Remember, communication is key!”

Touya glanced at Hawks. “If you drop one block, I’m replacing your spine with concrete.”

Hawks flashed him a thumbs-up. “Noted. Phoenix-style chiropractic care.”

They started. Hawks stacked like he was building a goddamn house of cards, light, quick, like the blocks would float into place if he winked hard enough. Touya’s job was to “stabilize,” which really meant crouching next to the tower like a human crutch and resisting the urge to tip it over every time Hawks made a stupid sound effect with his mouth.

“It’s working,” Hawks whispered as he placed another block. “It’s also giving me a calm feeling.”

“It’s giving me a migraine. Also why the fuck are you whispering.”

“You love it. And i was whispering because i was actually concentrating on the tower, unlike you.”

Touya flicked a spark at him. Hawks dodged, laughing, and grabbed another foam piece. “Man, you’re tense. You need a massage. Or a vacation. Or a personality.”

Touya caught the block, shoved it into place, and muttered, “You need to fall into a volcano.”

“Can’t. My feathers would catch the updraft.”

They were halfway through the pile when the tower began leaning slightly to the left. Hawks tried to overcorrect with a weird rectangular piece, and Touya immediately smacked his hand away.

“No. That’ll destabilize the whole left side.”

“You’re so bossy when we build things.”

“I’m so close to punching you in the throat with a foam beam.”

“Sounds intimate.”

Touya hissed and shoved another block into place, anchoring the base. His fingers brushed Hawks’ for a second and he pulled back like he’d touched a damn electric fence.

Hawks just raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Didn’t realize you were so delicate.”

“I’m not delicate,” Touya said through gritted teeth. “I just don’t want to catch bird flu.”

“You think I shed disease? That’s discrimination.”

“Featherist.”

Hawks snorted.

The tower climbed higher. And higher. And higher.

Touya was low-key impressed. Not with Hawks, obviously, never with Hawks, but the tower itself? Stable. Sharp angles. The structural integrity of a corporate lie, but it was holding.

Touya adjusted a center piece, glanced up to say something cutting, and caught Keigo looking at him. Not looking-looking. Not soft. Just... staring. Brows slightly raised. Something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

Touya blinked. “What?”

Hawks shrugged, tossing the final block up and catching it with a feather. “Nothing. You just actually look like you care. It’s cute.”

Touya dropped his hands from the tower and stood up. “That’s it.”

“Hey-”

“I’m done,” Touya said, loud enough for the rep to hear. “We built your stupid tower. There. We’re cohesive. Joy to the world.”

The rep scurried over. “Wow! That’s- oh! Very tall! Very... pointy!”

Hawks stepped back and gave a mock bow. “Thank you. Built with tension, trauma, and exactly one mutual murder threat per layer.”

Touya crossed his arms. “Can we go now?”

“Almost!” she said, way too cheerfully. “Just one more activity!”

Touya’s flames flared. “You said that fifteen minutes ago.”

“I said next was the tower. This one’s last, promise!” She pulled a small envelope from her clipboard and opened it like it was a party favor. “It’s called ‘The Trust Fall.’”

Touya actually made a noise. A real, distressed one. It sounded like someone stepping on broken glass.

“No. No. Absolutely not.”

Hawks laughed.

“You think I’m gonna let that thing fall backwards into my arms? What if he fakes it and launches himself elbow-first into my throat?”

“You think I trust you not to drop me just for fun?” Touya snapped. “You’d catch me with your wing tips and tweet about it afterward.”

“Tempting.”

“Not happening.”

“C’mon,” Hawks coaxed, already moving toward the open space near the projector screen. “It’ll be hilarious. You can catch me first. We’ll call it fire-and-flight training.”

“More like fall-and-fracture.”

“C’mon, Phoenix,” Hawks said, grinning like the devil. “Don’t you want to know if I trust you?”

“No!”

He ended up doing it anyway. Mostly because the rep started muttering about documentation and contract clauses and “Hero Behavioral Metrics” and he was not in the mood to deal with legalese for the next two weeks.

Touya stood behind Keigo, arms crossed. Hawks stood stiffly, smirking over his shoulder.

“Ready?”

“I hope you hit the floor.”

“Aw, cmon. Say it with feeling.”

And then he fell back. Touya caught him. Instinct. Muscle memory. Whatever.

The weight hit him hard, Hawks was deceptively solid for someone who flew like a paper airplane, and Touya did not like how his hands curled around Hawks’ chest like they’d done it before.
Hawks looked up at him, upside-down, grinning like he’d just won a game Touya didn’t realize they were playing.

“Caught me.”

Touya dropped him. Not hard. Just enough.

Hawks hit the floor with a thump and a very loud “oof.”

“I slipped,” Touya said flatly.

“Right,” Hawks said, grinning from the ground. “Slippery hands, huh?”

“I will light your shoes on fire.”

They switched. Touya didn’t want to fall back, of course he didn’t.

But the rep was watching, clipboard in hand like she’d report every skipped heartbeat to Commission Analytics.
He stood there for a second, arms stiff at his sides, staring ahead like he could will himself into a different life.

Hawks’ voice was behind him, “I’ll catch you.”
Touya hesitated. Just a second too long. He fell back, and Keigo caught him, his arms going straight under Touya’s. Their arms locked, steady, and secure. No fluttering. No showboating. Just arms around him like it was nothing.

Touya breathed out, slow. Then elbowed Hawks in the ribs on the way up.

“You were enjoying that,” he said accusingly.

“Obviously,” Hawks said, not even hiding it. “You smelled nice. Like expensive soap.”

Touya shoved past him and headed for the door. “Are we done now?”

The rep nodded, frazzled, scribbling something on her clipboard.
“You two are... something. I’ll just- uh- send in your evaluation summary later.”

Touya didn’t wait, he was already gone. He made it halfway down the hall before he realized Hawks was keeping pace next to him, still smiling.

Touya narrowed his eyes. “Don’t say anything.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good.”

There was a long pause for a moment.

“…You really did catch me.”

Touya stopped walking. Hawks kept going, just a few steps ahead and not a word more.

Touya watched him walk away. God. He hated him. He absolutely hated him.

…Tomorrow’s patrol was going to be hell. And Touya was already counting the seconds.

Chapter Text

Touya woke up to the shrill buzz of his phone, an ugly sound that matched the ugly glow of 6:03 AM on the screen. But he didn’t check the time first, he checked the sender. Hero Commission.

He didn’t even bother opening the message. Whatever it was, it’d be annoying. That much was a guarantee. He let his head fall back onto the pillow, exhaled through his nose, and stared at the ceiling like it personally offended him.

“I swear to god, if it’s another mission…”

His phone dinged again. He forced himself upright and swiped the lock screen open, thumb heavy with resentment.

——

Hero Commission (06:03 AM):

New mission with Hawks at 7:00, suspicious activity at an abandoned site.
Progress meeting with assigned partner and other Pro Heroes at 13:45

Attendance mandatory.
Be in uniform.
——

Touya stared at it, blinked once, and then loudly scoffed.

“A mission with Hawks?” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh yeah, absolutely. Just me and my least favorite pigeon doing synchronized hero bullshit for the entire city to see.”

He threw the blanket off like it had personally offended him too, groaning as he sat up fully. His back cracked in two different spots, which felt like a metaphor for this whole pairing. Just constantly on the verge of snapping. It had been, what, five days? Six? Whatever. It already felt like a year.

This entire grouping thing had been a disaster from the start. Touya hated Hawks' lazy arrogance, the way he acted like everyone owed him a laugh and a compliment for breathing. Hawks, for his part, clearly thought Touya was one long, bad mood with a flashy quirk. They’d been stuck patrolling together nearly every day since the meeting, and it never got easier. Only louder. Touya gritted his teeth and stood up.

He dressed in silence, going through the motions. Thermal compression top, flame-resistant reinforced pants, arm bracers. Always the bracers. If he ever went up in flames, which wasn’t off the table given his rage tolerance and Hawks' existence, he’d want his arms intact.

He pulled on his black-and-blue gloves and stared at himself in the mirror for a second.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. His hero name was a bird name. Just like him. And just like him, Touya wasn’t anyone’s damn pet.

By 6:55 AM, he was at the rendezvous point: a rooftop in downtown Musutafu, windswept and already hot from the early sun. Hawks was already there. Of course he was.

Leaning on the railing like he lived there, wings out in full show-off mode, red feathers catching the light like it was a photoshoot and not a goddamn workday. He didn’t look at Touya right away, but the moment the soles of Touya’s boots hit the rooftop, the bastard smirked.

“You’re early,” Hawks drawled, turning his head just enough to flash his stupidly smug face. “Starting to miss me already?”

Touya walked past him without a word, heading to the far edge of the rooftop and resting both hands on the railing.

“No,” he said flatly. “I just wanted to get it over and done with because i don’t want to be here. Unlike someone who thinks patrols are an excuse to flirt with civilians and call it community outreach.”

“Wow. You’re in a great mood today,” Hawks said, pushing off the railing and strolling lazily toward him. “Did you wake up on the wrong side of your coffin, or was it the Commission text that did it?”

Touya didn’t even look at him. “Do you think I enjoy being reminded I have to see your face before noon?”

Hawks clutched his chest like he’d been shot. “You wound me, partner.”

“Quit calling me that.”

“What, partner?” Hawks tilted his head, smiling like it was the most natural word in the world. “It’s what we are, legally speaking. Commission says so.”

“You say that like it means something to me.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Hawks said, circling to stand beside him at the railing. “A few more weeks of quality time and you might even start to tolerate me.”

“I don’t want to tolerate you. I want you gone.”

“Cute.”

Touya snapped his gaze to him. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Do you ever stop glowering?” Hawks fired back.

Silence stretched between them. The sound of traffic floated up from below, a far-off siren rising and falling. Somewhere, a morning radio jingle played on repeat through a cafe speaker.

Touya turned his eyes back toward the skyline. “The afternoon meeting’s gonna be a shitshow.”

“Obviously,” Hawks said, still far too cheerful. “Everyone’s supposed to give a little ‘progress report’ about their Commission-mandated soulbond. Half of them are gonna lie through their teeth, the rest are gonna say they’re ‘learning valuable teamwork skills’ or whatever corporate crap they’re told to say.”

“And us?”

Hawks looked over, one brow raised. “We’re gonna say we’re doing great, obviously. Poster children for collaborative heroism.”

Touya made a sound that was somewhere between a cough and a laugh. “Right. I’m sure they’ll believe that after the news saw us yelling across the Shibuya bridge two days ago.”

“I call that a passionate debate,” Hawks said, straight-faced.

“You called me a ‘walking incinerator with daddy issues.’”

“And you called me a ‘peacocking, Commission-bred parrot with the emotional range of a teaspoon.’”

“I stand by it.”

“So do I,” Hawks replied with a casual shrug. “You are an incinerator.”

Touya rolled his eyes and took a step back from the railing, cracking his neck once to the side. He could feel the heat starting to gather in his arms, low-level build, nothing dangerous, but a physical reminder to breathe before he torched the rooftop just from existing next to this feathered menace.

Hawks, for once, seemed to notice. “You good?” he asked, voice marginally less obnoxious. “You’re heating up.”

“Don’t act like you care.”

“Didn’t say I did,” Hawks said. “Just don’t wanna get barbequed before breakfast. I had plans to grab a croissant after this.”

Touya didn’t answer. He tugged at the sleeve of his glove instead, tightening it more than necessary.

They stood in another awkward silence. Hawks finally sighed. “Look, I’m not thrilled about this either. You think I asked to be paired with the human embodiment of unresolved trauma? No offense.”

Touya raised a brow. “I can guarantee that you’re no better than me.”

“Whatever. I just don’t want to be stuck with you,” Hawks said. “So now we have to play buddy cops until the two months are over.”

Touya scoffed. “Except I hate you.”

“You say that like it’s unique.”

Touya barked a laugh despite himself, short, bitter, real. “You really think this partnership’s salvageable?”

Hawks tilted his head. “I think it doesn’t matter.”

Touya gave him a look.

“I think the Commission’s gonna keep us glued together until one of us burns out or flies away,” Hawks said, voice losing just a bit of its joking lilt. “So yeah. Doesn’t matter if we hate each other. The work still has to get done.”

There was a beat.

“…So what, we just grit our teeth and smile for the cameras?” Touya asked.

“Pretty much,” Hawks said. “Smile. Save people. Hate each other on our own time.”

Touya frowned. Not at the idea. At how reasonable it sounded coming from him.

“Fine,” he said eventually. “But if you touch me during this mission, I’m setting one of your wings on fire.”

Hawks grinned, feathers rustling like they were daring him. “Hot.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m trying to bond here.”

“Bond with a brick wall.”

They stood in silence again, but this time it was… less charged. More like they were both reserving energy for the hell ahead.

A distant chime buzzed in Touya’s earpiece.

[Mission dispatch in 1 minute.]

Touya exhaled slowly. The air shimmered faintly around his arms, residual heat, always simmering. He glanced once more at Hawks.

“Let’s get this over with.”

“Your enthusiasm is contagious,” Hawks said, stretching out his wings and flexing his gloves. “Try to keep up, hot stuff.”

Touya’s eyes narrowed. “Try not to get in my way, featherbrain.”

Hawks winked. “Always a pleasure, partner.”

Touya scowled, but he didn’t argue. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t torch the tip of one of those smug-ass wings by accident. Just once. For the principle.

As the mission alert ticked down to zero, Touya just felt more pissed off by the second at having to work with someone he hated.

——

The mission started simple. It always did. Suspicious movement in the warehouse district. Unregistered cargo. Rumors of villain activity. The usual vague-ass report the Commission sent out when they didn’t have the time, or the nerve, to get actual intel.

By the time Phoenix and Hawks arrived, the block was already crawling with low-level thugs. Hooded, armed, a few quirks flaring.

"Y’know," Hawks murmured, crouched on a fire escape with Touya next to him, "for something listed as a 'routine sweep,' this looks a lot more like a villain pitstop."

Touya narrowed his eyes at the mess below. “You think?”

“Don’t be mean to me when I’m agreeing with you,” Hawks muttered. “That’s emotional abuse.”

“Don’t make me regret not pushing you off this building.”

Hawks opened his mouth, clearly gearing up to reply with something stupid, but Touya was already dropping down into the alley, fire coating his arms in a quick flare.

The moment he hit the ground, chaos cracked open like an egg.

There were six of them. Probably more inside. All immediately hostile. One with a steel-forming quirk rushed Touya right off the bat, only to get met with a knee to the gut and a flash of heat that melted the edge of his armor on impact.
Behind him, red feathers sliced through the air as Hawks dove in, his wings sharp and precise, clearing two others before they even got close. His movements were annoyingly graceful, Touya would admit that, if someone held him at gunpoint.

"Left!" Hawks shouted.

Touya spun just in time to catch a projectile, a chunk of rebar flying at his face. He ducked and launched a blast of flame toward the source. The air shimmered hot. A scream rang out. Metal hissed and popped.

The two of them moved like practiced disaster, if not practiced partners. Hawks would zip in, wings slashing and feathers grabbing weapons midair; Touya followed up with direct hits, precision fire bursts that forced the villains to scatter and regroup.

It worked. Until it didn’t.

There was one with a warping quirk that had been hiding. Touya didn’t see it until it was too late. A twist in the air, like the world had hiccupped, and suddenly a portal ripped open beneath Hawks mid-flight, knocking him
off balance, then immediately closing the portal.

“Shit—!” Hawks barely managed to cry out before he dropped, wings folding instinctively as he fell. Touya didn’t think, didn’t calculate, didn’t hesitate. One second, Hawks was falling, the next, Touya launched himself across the field, flames bursting from his heels like rockets, arms outstretched.

He caught Hawks midair, a burst of fire cushioning the impact as they slammed together and hit the roof of a nearby truck.

Hawks made a choked sound. Probably because Touya had an arm around his back and another gripping his thigh for support.

For a full second, neither of them said anything. Touya stared at him, eyes wide. Hawks blinked up at him, stunned. The wind had been knocked out of both of them.

“...You caught me,” Hawks said, almost dumbly.

Touya blinked. “Yeah. No shit.”

“What the actual fuck.”

“Do you want me to drop you now?”

Hawks’ mouth opened and closed like a confused goldfish. His face was red. Probably from exertion.

He looked vaguely horrified. “You- you’re holding me.”

Touya shoved him off roughly. “And now I’m not. You’re welcome.”

Hawks rolled off the truck, stumbling once before regaining his footing. He was still staring at Touya like he’d grown an extra head.

“What the hell was that?” he asked, voice weirdly breathy.

“I don’t know,” Touya snapped, still scowling. “You looked like you were gonna splatter. Instinct.”

“Instinct,” Hawks repeated.

“Don’t read into it, birdbrain.”

“Oh, I’m definitely reading into it.”

Before Touya could tell him to shove that smug little smirk up his own ass, two more villains came crashing through a nearby window.
Hawks snapped back into mission mode with a blink, wings flaring again.

"You take left, I’ll take right?"

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Wow. You save a guy one time, and suddenly you’re all grumpy about it.”

Touya snarled, but the flames at his feet flared with readiness. They charged together, silent coordination taking over the space where words had always failed.
Phoenix was all heat and brutal precision, dodging, burning, striking.
Hawks was speed and control, every feather a scalpel, every dodge a taunt.
By the time they cleared the area, five minutes had passed. Maybe six. All enemies restrained. Area secure. No major damage.

Except to Touya’s dignity, maybe. Hawks looked entirely too pleased with himself as he sent a message through his earpiece.

“This is Hawks. Mission complete. All targets neutralized. Phoenix and I are both unharmed. Awaiting debrief instructions.”

There was a pause. Then a ping.

[Acknowledged. Afternoon progress meeting is still on. Return when ready.]

Hawks clicked off. Turned to Touya.
“So,” he said.

Touya crossed his arms. “Don’t.”

“You caught me.”

“I said don’t.”

“And held me.”

Touya turned to him slowly. “I was in shock. Also i will light your hair on fire.”

“You didn’t have to grab my thigh like that, but I’m not mad.”

Touya stalked forward. Hawks yelped and jumped back.

“Kidding! Kidding! You’re very professional. Very heroic. Might even say gallant.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

Hawks smirked, but his face was still just a bit pink. “You looked worried, y’know.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Liar.”

“You want to test if I’ll save you twice?”

“...Point taken.”

Touya looked away, eyes scanning the area one last time before turning toward the rooftops again. “Let’s go. The faster we get to that damn meeting, the faster we can stop pretending we don’t hate each other.”

Behind him, Hawks snorted. “Sure thing, partner.”

Touya didn’t respond. And if his face felt a little warm, well, that was just residual fire.

——

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. He mostly avoided Hawks whilst on patrol, sticking to alleys that the winged hero wouldn’t likely be in.

All Touya could think about was how much longer he’d have to work with the feather brained idiot. Two months in total, and it had only been six days.

Six days. Six goddamn days. That was how long Touya had endured the waking nightmare that was working with Hawks. Six days of bird jokes. Six days of feather dander in his car. Six days of Keigo humming pop songs at 7AM and calling it “vibe-setting.”

Touya was two eye twitches away from snapping and lighting the entire Commission HQ on fire, and honestly, that might have been more productive.

He dropped into his seat at the long conference table, limbs heavy with exhaustion and malice. His hero jacket was halfway off his shoulder, scorched at the sleeve from whatever explosion he’d run into earlier, and he had an unlit cigarette between his fingers even though they were very much not allowed to smoke inside.

A few moments later, Hawks slid into the seat next to him like this was a brunch date and not a mandated check-in.

“Morning, partner,” he chirped, sunglasses reflecting the glaring light.

Touya didn’t even look at him. “Call me that again and I’ll clip your wings with a rusty knife.”

Hawks smirked and leaned forwards on the table. “You’re not exactly being heroic when you’re acting homicidal.”

Touya visibly inhaled through his nose like he was debating whether arson was worth the paperwork.

The rest of the room filled up gradually. Miruko strolled in with a protein shake and no regard for the time. Eraserhead appeared in a blur of grey and black. Jeanist, as always, looked like he ironed his entire outfit an hour before he left his house. The only person who looked like he wanted to be there less than Touya was Endeavor, who walked in carrying a tablet and a permanent expression of disappointed constipation.

“Let’s get started,” he said, not even bothering to greet anyone. He tapped the screen and projected a list of hero units across the board. “This is our first mandatory debrief following the Commission’s pairing initiative. I want concise reports on performance, compatibility, and obstacles. Keep it professional.”

He paused, looked directly at Touya and Keigo, and added, “Please.”

Touya blew out a breath like he was personally oppressed.

“Unit X,” Enji started. “Mirko. Jeanist.”

Rumi flexed her biceps and grinned. “Ten outta ten. We’re crushing it. Caught a villain ring on day two, and Jeanist only lectured me about posture twice.”

Jeanist folded his hands primly. “We’ve achieved a 93% efficiency rate in response time, and our divergent styles have proven surprisingly cooperative. That said, Mirko’s tendency to… how should I put this, kick first, ask questions never,has led to some logistical difficulties.”

Rumi gave him a thumbs-up. “Teamwork, baby.”

Endeavor just nodded. “Noted. Unit Y.”

Aizawa didn’t even lift his head. “No issues.”

“Mic talks too much,” he added a beat later.

Hizashi, halfway through opening his mouth, closed it again and gave a thumbs up.

Endeavor’s gaze slid to the next name.

Unit Z.

Touya could feel the attention shift. The entire room braced like a cat about to witness a vase shatter.

He didn’t even wait for the prompt.
“I hate him.”

Hawks made a faux-shocked gasp. “You wound me, Flamey.”

“Don’t. Call me. That.”

Touya leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes burning.

“Six days of this winged menace chirping in my ear, trailing feathers everywhere, and permanently showing off mid-battle. I had to explain to a hostage why the number three hero was flirting while evacuating a burning warehouse.”

“I said it was crowd morale!” Hawks protested.

“You winked at the arsonist!”

“He looked stressed! I was trying to de-escalate!”

“You offered him a drink!”

“It was a bottle of water!”

Touya turned to Endeavor, tone venomous. “He offered me a bottle of water the day before. He knows I hate when he does that shit.”

There was a beat of silence.

“...That one’s on you for hating it,” Eraserhead muttered.

Hawks stretched in his chair, hands behind his head. “Honestly? I think we’re making progress. I’ve only been set on fire twice this week. That’s gotta be a record.”

“One of those times was on purpose,” Touya hissed.

“The other one was an accident!”

“I warned you I was going to explode the stairwell.”

“I thought that was a metaphor!”

“Who the fuck uses exploding stairwell as a metaphor?”

Rumi was openly laughing now. Jeanist had his arms crossed, glaring like he was too good for this kind of drama (he was not).

Endeavor set the tablet down with a muted thud.

“So,” he said slowly, like his soul was leaking out of his mouth, “No significant progress on synchronization, then.”

“Oh no, we’re perfectly synced,” Hawks said brightly. “I know exactly when he’s about to try to kill me.”

Touya shrugged. “I give him warnings. That’s progress.”

Endeavor turned to the tablet. “Combat reports show successful villain takedowns in all four engagements. Minimal civilian casualties. High collateral.”

Touya arched a brow. “High? Nah, that warehouse was already falling apart.”

“You melted the support beams,” Hawks said. “You yelled it, Touya. You literally shouted, ‘Watch this, birdbrain,’ and dropped the ceiling.”

Touya smirked. “And you caught all the civvies, didn’t you? You're welcome.”

Hawks blinked. “Wait. You did that because I was there?”

Touya leaned back with a self-satisfied look that was both obnoxious and kind of hot, if you were into casually destructive pyromaniacs with daddy issues.

Which Hawks absolutely wasn’t. At all.

Endeavor looked like he was chewing glass. “You’re both somehow exceeding expectations and giving me a migraine.”

“We’re very dynamic,” Hawks said helpfully.

“I’m dynamically planning his funeral,” Touya added.

Endeavor turned to the rest of the room. “...Does anyone else have this level of dysfunction, or is it just these two?”

“I think it’s romantic,” Hizashi offered.

“Nope,” Aizawa said immediately.

“They have chemistry,” Mirko agreed, leaning on her elbows on the table.

“It’s arson,” Jeanist said.

“It’s absolutely not,” Hawks said with a groan.

Touya stopped twirling the cigarette between his fingers and lit it with his pinky, ignoring the no-smoking signs plastered around the room.

“Every day I spend with him takes a year off my life,” he muttered.

Hawks leaned in. “So we’re dying together? I’d rather not.”

Touya blew smoke in his face. “I hope we both go out in a blaze of glory. You first.”

“After you.”

“I will end you.”

“You’ve been trying since day one, hot stuff.”

Endeavor rubbed his temples. “You’re both dismissed.”

Neither of them moved.

“I said-”

“I heard you,” Touya said, standing, smoke trailing behind him. “I just don’t take orders from hypocrites.”

Endeavor’s jaw clenched. “This isn’t the time, Touya.”

“It’s always the time.”

Hawks, ever the chaos enabler, got to his feet too and stretched his wings just enough to knock a stack of folders off the table. “Oops.”

“I’m begging you to stop existing,” Touya said flatly, stepping over the mess.

Hawks followed him out, still smiling like he’d won something. As the door slammed shut behind them, Mirko let out a low whistle. “Those two are gonna fuck or kill each other.”

Eraserhead didn’t look up. “It’s probably both.”

Endeavor sighed, looking down at the tablet that had now started smoking. He was going to have to schedule another meeting next week.

And probably a fire inspector. And definitely a therapist. Someone help him.

Chapter Text

It was stupid. That was the first thing Touya told himself as he stood outside the Todoroki family house, staring at the door like it owed him money. It was stupid to be here.

He hadn’t been to one of these dinners in over a year. Not since Shouto started being slightly less awkward and Rei got well enough to host them regularly again. Not since Natsuo finally stopped yelling every time Enji breathed. Not since the whole family decided they could play pretend and pass dishes around a table like everything wasn’t irrevocably fucked beyond salvation.

And yet, here he was. Standing outside the front gate in civilian clothes, still smelling faintly of smoke and singed feathers from this morning's meeting. Feathers. Touya grit his teeth.

Maybe that’s what pushed him over the edge. Maybe after a week of Hawks trailing him like some deranged bird-shaped rash, flapping around with that smug grin and insufferable banter, Touya had finally snapped and decided, “Sure. You know what sounds fun? Voluntarily going to Dad’s house to eat lukewarm soba and pretend I didn’t try to set his golden boy on fire for the fifth time this week.”

It wasn’t like he had better plans. It was either this or stay home and stew in silence while Hawks texted him TikToks of birds doing dumb shit with captions like “this u?”

He rang the doorbell before he could talk himself out of it. The second the door cracked open, Fuyumi gasped.

“Touya?” she said, like she was seeing a ghost. Which, fair.

“Surprise,” he deadpanned. “I came to ruin dinner.”

Fuyumi blinked once, then threw the door wide and grabbed him in a hug that was both too tight and too soft. She always smelled like clean laundry and whatever fancy-ass candles she hoarded like a suburban mom with a coupon addiction.

“You came,” she whispered into his shoulder. “You actually came.”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he muttered, stiff and awkward but not pulling away. “I can still turn around.”

“Nope. You’re trapped now. I’m getting the good plates.”

She vanished inside, calling for the others, and Touya stepped into the house like a man crossing into enemy territory.

Everything looked the same. Too neat. Too staged. Like a set that’d been scrubbed clean of anything too painful. The family photos were still up, though most were new, Shouto in his school uniform, Fuyumi with her students, Rei at the rehab garden. Nothing with Touya. He wasn’t surprised.

He walked into the living room and immediately locked eyes with Shouto. The kid (he was older now, really, but still perpetually twelve in Touya’s brain) looked up from his phone with a faint look of surprise that barely flickered across his face.

“Hey,” Shouto said.

“Hey,” Touya replied.

Silence.

“You cut your hair,” Shouto noted.

“You got taller,” Touya shot back. “Rude of you.”

Shouto blinked. “Not really my fault.”

Touya snorted. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Sho.”

Then Natsuo came in from the kitchen and froze mid-step.

“You’re kidding,” he said.

Touya raised an eyebrow. “That your greeting? Damn, you’re out of practice.”

Natsuo scowled, but there was something reluctant in his eyes. Something like relief buried under the annoyance.

“What, the Commission finally gave you a break from babysitting your bird boyfriend?”

Touya immediately flipped him off. “Don’t start. He’s not my boyfriend. He’s not even my coworker. He’s a plague with feathers and no volume control.”

“Heard he saved a bus full of kids last week,” Natsuo said. “People like him.”

“Well, people are idiots.”

Before Natsuo could fire back, Rei entered from the hallway. Her expression was warm, soft, and just a little startled.

“Touya,” she said gently. “You came.”

He braced for a hug. She didn’t give one, just stepped closer, hand brushing his arm. Always careful, always watching his body language. He appreciated that more than he’d ever admit.

“Yeah,” he said. “Guess I did.”

“I’m glad.”

And she meant it. That was the weirdest part.

He followed them to the dining room where the table was already set with enough food for six people and then some. Fuyumi really had pulled out the good plates.

Enji was already seated. Of course he was. Stiff and silent in a civilian polo shirt like wearing a collar that wasn’t flame-retardant made him uncomfortable. His hands were folded on the table, posture perfect, expression unreadable. Touya stared at him. He didn’t sit.

Enji cleared his throat. “You’re late.”

“Should’ve started without me,” Touya said. “You didn’t know I was coming. I wouldn’t’ve been offended.”

“We waited,” Rei said, her tone a subtle warning. “Just in case you did show up.”

Touya stared at his father another beat longer, then dragged a chair back with a screech and dropped into it with maximum defiance.

Dinner began.

It was… normal. That was the worst part. Shouto talked about work. Fuyumi asked Rei about her garden. Natsuo made a snide comment about Enji’s lack of cooking contributions and no one denied it. Rei passed dishes. Enji served himself last.

And Touya sat there, letting the conversation buzz around him like static.

“Your hair’s different,” Rei noted after a while. “It suits you.”

Touya shrugged. “I burned the last style off by accident. Too much backdraft.”

Shouto made a sound like a snort into his soba.

“Still using open flames for style?” Natsuo asked. “Some things never change.”

“Unlike your fashion sense,” Touya said. “You dress like a gym teacher going through a divorce.”

Fuyumi coughed into her napkin to hide a laugh. For a brief second, the tension eased. Then Enji spoke.

“How’s your partnership with Hawks progressing?”

Touya froze mid-bite.

He didn’t look up. “You read the reports.”

“I want your version.”

“You want the Commission’s version with extra sarcasm?” Touya muttered. “Because that’s all I’ve got.”

Rei gave him a look. The soft kind. The be nice, please kind.

Touya scowled. “…It’s functional,” he said eventually. “Barely. He’s loud. He talks too much. He does this thing where he flaps his wings for attention like a pigeon trying to get fed.”

“Are you getting along?” Rei asked carefully.

“No,” Touya said immediately.

“He seems nice on TV,” Fuyumi offered.

Touya made a noise of pure disgust. “He’s too nice. It’s fake. No one’s that charming without being a serial killer. I keep waiting for him to snap and admit he’s got villain bodies under his penthouse floorboards.”

“Sounds like someone you have a bit of an obsession,” Natsuo said.

“Eat glass,” Touya snapped.

Enji sighed. “You don’t have to like him. Just work with him.”

“I am working with him. Unfortunately.”

Rei gave him another look. This one was softer. “He brings out your fire,” she said gently. “That’s not all bad.”

Touya scoffed. “Mom, the last time I ‘brought out my fire’ around him, we almost melted a commuter train.”

Shouto blinked. “That was you two?”

“Allegedly.”

“It made the news.”

“I said allegedly.”

Dinner carried on. Eventually, plates were emptied, and tea was served. Natsuo and Fuyumi cleared the table. Rei started rinsing dishes. Shouto leaned against the counter scrolling through his phone. And Touya lingered. Still seated. Still buzzing from something sharp and restless under his skin.

Enji stood as if to leave, but Touya stopped him. “I’m not doing this for you,” he said quietly.

Enji turned, face unreadable. “I didn’t ask you to.”

“Yeah, well.” Touya looked away. “You think putting me with Hawks is gonna fix something. It won’t. He’s not a therapist. He’s a pain in the ass with nice hair and a death wish.”

“You work well together.”

“No, we don’t. We survive each other. There’s a difference.”

Enji didn’t respond for a moment. Then, “I see more of myself in you than I like.”

Touya laughed, bitter. “Guess that makes two of us.”

He stood, stretching with a groan. “Thanks for the food, or whatever. Tell Fuyumi I didn’t set anything on fire. That’s personal growth.”

Enji nodded once. “Thank you for coming.”

Touya didn’t answer. He walked to the door and paused.

“…He asked if I was coming to this.”

Enji raised a brow. “Hawks?”

“Yeah.” Touya scoffed. “Called it a ‘character development opportunity.’”

“Did you tell him you were?”

“No.”

“Then why’d you come?”

Touya hesitated. His hand lingered on the doorknob.

“Because if he was gonna picture me here,” he muttered, “I wanted to make sure I looked better than he imagined me doing it.”

And with that, he walked out into the night, leaving behind the faint smell of smoke, simmering resentment, and maybe, just maybe, a flicker of something else.

Something dangerously close to healing. Or at least spite. Which, for Touya, was basically the same thing.

Chapter Text

Touya kicked the door to his apartment shut with a little more force than necessary, then immediately yanked his jacket off and threw it over the back of the couch. His keys landed somewhere near the kitchen counter with a clatter, and his boots got flung off mid-stride, one nearly taking out the leg of his coffee table.

It was late, probably past midnight. He’d stayed at the family dinner way longer than he meant to. The food had been decent, the conversation tolerable, and he hadn't even screamed at his father, which was a personal record.

Unfortunately, all of that somehow made him feel worse. He collapsed onto the couch with a groan, the room still smelling faintly like cigarette smoke and scorched polyester from his scorched jacket. One of the throw pillows hit the floor. He left it there.

He stared at the ceiling for several long, silent minutes. Then, unfortunately, his phone buzzed.

He pulled it out of his pocket, already bracing for something annoying. Probably a dumbass Commission update or worse, a media inquiry. But no. It was the Todoroki Family Group Chat, cursed and chaotic.

——

Fuyumi (11:58 PM):

touya came to dinner and didn’t burn anything! character development!

Shouto (11:59 PM):

He flipped off Natsuo four times.

Natsuo (12:00 AM):

five actually. the last one was with both hands.

Fuyumi (12:00 AM):

still counts as progress.

Rei (12:01 AM):
It was very nice to have you home, Touya. Thank you.

Touya (12:02 AM):

don’t get used to it

Fuyumi (12:02 AM):

too late i’m going to set your place at the table for next week

Touya (12:03 AM):

i will burn your expensive candles

Natsuo (12:03 AM):
honestly that feels like something you’d do sober or not

Shouto (12:03 AM):

He smells like smoke and cigarettes.

Touya (12:03 AM):

thanks for the compliment, you bland bastard

Fuyumi (12:04 AM):

seriously though, it was nice having you there. we all missed you.

Touya (12:05 AM):

whatever. thanks for the food i guess. Fuyumi and Rei’s cooking’s still the only thing keeping this family from spontaneous combustion

Fuyumi (12:05 AM):

Thanks, Touya

Rei (12:05 AM):
❤️

——

Touya stared at that tiny heart for a second longer than he meant to.
Then quickly exited the chat before he could do something gross like smile. He tossed the phone onto the couch beside him and dragged a hand down his face, sighing.

Why did family stuff always make him feel like his skin didn’t fit right? He wasn’t mad exactly. Just… itchy. Restless. Like being around people who expected things from him made his entire nervous system malfunction. Even when it went well. Especially when it went well.

He’d honestly expected to walk in, pick a fight with Natsuo, maybe throw hands with Enji in the hallway, and leave in a blaze of sarcasm and cigarette ash. But instead, there was food and polite conversation and soft smiles and-

His phone buzzed again. He glanced at it. Not the family chat this time. Hawks.

——

featherfuck (12:08 AM):

yo hot stuff

did u survive the great todoroki supper massacre of 2025

——

Touya stared at the screen and debated throwing his phone into the sink. He didn't end up throwing the phone.

——

Touya (12:09 AM):

how do you even know i was there

featherfuck (12:09 AM):

shouto posted a pic of u in the background with your mouth full of rice and your middle finger up

as usual

——

Touya frowned and immediately went to Shouto’s account. Sure enough, he had posted a cryptic story captioned: family dinner’s never boring.

And yeah, there he was in the background, flipping off Natsuo mid-bite. Great. Immortalized in digital glory.

——

Touya (12:10 AM):

he’s dead to me

featherfuck (12:10 AM):

rude. he’s my favorite todoroki

Touya (12:10 AM):

he’s literally the most boring one

featherfuck (12:11 AM):

nah he’s got the deadpan sass thing going

u got the threats

natsuo’s got the anger

fuyumi has that motherly, kind vibe

shouto’s the balance

Touya (12:11 AM):

you’ve thought about this too much

featherfuck (12:12 AM):

gotta keep track of your dynasty

i’m out here working with a mini royal family. it’s practically a drama series

——

Touya flopped back on the couch and scowled. He hated that he was… not annoyed. He hated that Keigo was funny sometimes. Worse, that his texts made Touya smirk. Worse than that, that he was still texting back.

——

Touya (12:13 AM):

you’re not that interesting

you don’t have to keep trying to impress me

featherfuck (12:13 AM):

ouch

and here i thought we were finally bonding

Touya (12:13 AM):

the only thing bonding is my fist and your face next time you call me “hot stuff”
btw thought you should know that you’re saved as “featherfuck” in my phone

featherfuck (12:14 AM):

that’s actually not the worst nickname i’ve had

once a fan called me a “chicken with abs”

couldn’t show my face online for a week

——

Touya actually laughed. Out loud. A short, sharp thing that startled him. He caught himself smiling and instantly wiped it off his face like it offended him. God. What the hell was happening to him. He tossed his phone aside again, harder this time, and stared at the ceiling.

This was bad. He didn’t like Hawks. He couldn’t. The man was a walking PR campaign with wings. He was annoying, he never shut up, and he was… too much. Too much charm. Too much patience. Too much attention focused in his direction, like Touya mattered. He didn’t know what to do with that. Didn’t want to.

His phone buzzed again, and he did not look. Then it buzzed a second time. Then a third. He reached for it with a snarl and unlocked the screen. More messages from Hawks.

——

featherfuck (12:16 AM):

you’re ignoring me now?
damn. harsh.

did the rice coma hit

or are you having an existential crisis bc your family was nice to you

——

Touya’s eye twitched.

——

Touya (12:17 AM):

how do you do that

you’re not psychic

featherfuck (12:17 AM):

nah i’m just good at reading vibes

yours are like “fuck off and die” 90% of the time

but tonight they’re more like “fuck off and die” but less aggressively

——

Touya choked on absolutely nothing.

——

Touya (12:18 AM):

i will incinerate you

featherfuck (12:18 AM):

at least take me out first

——

Touya physically slammed his phone face-down on the table and sat there simmering.

What the hell was wrong with him? This was supposed to be his night. His victory lap. He showed up to dinner, he didn’t punch anyone, he proved a point to… someone. Probably himself.

So why was he now curled on his couch, texting the most infuriating pro hero in Japan like they were middle schoolers with a crush?

Worse, why was it fun?

He didn’t like people. Didn’t like small talk. Didn’t like being seen. But with Hawks it was… different. Easy, even when it pissed him off. Like they were speaking a language no one else understood.

He hated that. He despised that.

And yet, his fingers hovered over the screen again.

——

Touya (12:20 AM):

you’re annoying as hell

featherfuck (12:20 AM):

you’re welcome

——

Touya shouldn’t have replied. He knew better. There were three rules he tried to follow when it came to Hawks:
1. Don’t give him attention.
2. Don’t let him get close.
3. Don’t ever admit you don’t actually want to kill him.
He’d just broken all three in one night, well, the third one was to himself, but the other two he had undeniably broken.

The phone buzzed again, face-down on the table like it was daring him. He stared at it for a long, bitter second, then snatched it up and unlocked it like a man accepting his fate.

——

featherfuck (12:21 AM):

so

u ever gonna tell me why u hate me or do i have to keep guessing

Touya (12:21 AM):

because you talk too much
you’re smug

you’re a commission lapdog

you’re too damn fast

you make jokes in the middle of fights

you smile when i’m pissed off

you text like a 14 yr old

you don’t take anything seriously

featherfuck (12:22 AM):

...
okay but like

damn

not even a hidden compliment?
Touya (12:22 AM):

do you want me to lie to you?

featherfuck (12:23 AM):

depends

is it a sexy lie or a sad one
——

Touya made a strangled noise, halfway between a groan and a dying kettle. He rolled onto his side on the couch and glared at his phone like it might set on fire through sheer force of will. Of course it didn’t.

——

Touya (12:23 AM):

you’re insufferable

featherfuck (12:23 AM):

and yet you keep texting me

weird how that works

——

Touya stared at that message like it personally attacked him. Because it did, and it was weird. He shouldn’t be texting Hawks. He shouldn’t have this little itch of anticipation every time his phone buzzed. He shouldn’t- Buzz.

——

featherfuck (12:24 AM):

okay real talk tho

your fire stuff is cool as hell

like yeah i make feather knives or whatever
 but u blew up a parking garage last week and it was kinda hot

——

Touya had to do a double take. “Hot.” Did he mean that the fire was hot, or that-

No. Touya refused to go there.

——

Touya (12:24 AM):

if that’s your idea of flirting it’s a miracle you’ve ever dated anyone

featherfuck (12:25 AM):

never dated anyone without fucking them first

——

Touya gagged.

——

Touya (12:25 AM):

i’m blocking you

featherfuck (12:25 AM):

u won’t

u love me

——

Touya stared blankly at the screen. He started typing. Deleted it. Started again, and eventually landed on:

——

Touya (12:26 AM):

you’re like a fungus

persistent and disgusting

featherfuck (12:26 AM):

but like… kinda cute right?

——

Touya launched his phone across the couch and buried his face in his hands. What the hell was happening to him? He felt like his brain had been rewired. Like every moment he spent not actively hating Hawks was a betrayal of his entire moral compass.

He sat there for a long minute. Trying not to think. Trying not to care. Trying not to admit that, despite everything, he didn’t want this conversation to end.

Eventually, he reached for his phone again, because of course he did. The moment the screen lit up, another message popped through.

——

featherfuck (12:27 AM):

for real tho
you seemed kinda off this week

not just your usual “i hate everyone” vibe

like
 tired 
or distracted

——

Touya’s scowl faltered. That wasn’t the kind of thing he expected from Hawks. Not the jokes, not the flirting, not the chaos gremlin act. This. The genuine check-in, the quiet attentiveness. It threw him off every single time because it made him feel seen, and Touya didn’t do being seen.

——

Touya (12:28 AM):

none of your business

featherfuck (12:28 AM):

yeah

figured you’d say that

but it kinda is

we’re partners now

whether u like it or not

——

Touya leaned back against the arm of the couch, fingers tight around the phone. Partners. Right. That was what this was.
Professional. Tactical. Temporary. He closed his eyes.

Then why the hell did this feel so personal?

——

Touya (12:29 AM):

i don’t get you

featherfuck (12:29 AM):

most people don’t

i think that’s why i like talking to you

you’re not like most people

——

Touya’s heart did something stupid and traitorous. He stared at that message for a full minute, unmoving. Trying to will away the warmth crawling up the back of his neck.

He hated this. He hated that Hawks was nice to him. He hated that Hawks noticed him. He hated that the guy behind the sunglasses and fake grins was… real.

And worse?

He hated that he wanted to keep talking to him.

——

Touya (12:31 AM):

stop saying shit like that

it’s weird

featherfuck (12:31 AM):

weird is my brand

Touya (12:31 AM):

i’m serious

featherfuck (12:31 AM):

okay

i’ll stop

——

Touya stared at his screen. It felt wrong seeing that message from Hawks. There was no joke, no sarcasm, no emoji, just... “okay. I’ll stop.” He frowned.

——

Touya (12:32 AM):

now you’re being weird in a different way

stop that too

featherfuck (12:32 AM):

lol

sorry
 didn’t mean to freak you out

just
 didn’t wanna push you if it’s too much

i know you don’t do the whole “feelings” thing

——

Touya read it twice, and then again. His chest felt tight. Why the fuck did he care if Hawks backed off? Why did that spark of disappointment catch fire in his throat?

He gritted his teeth and typed a message, erased it, and then typed again.

——

Touya (12:33 AM):
i don’t hate talking to you

——

There. That was... something. His chest squeezed tighter after he hit send, like he’d ripped off a scab and stared too long at what was underneath. The reply didn’t come right away. And Touya, infuriatingly, waited for it.

——

featherfuck (12:34 AM):

that’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me

i’m touched

emotionally and spiritually

Touya (12:34 AM):

don’t make it weird again

featherfuck (12:34 AM):

no promises

——

Touya huffed, tossed the phone onto his chest and stared up at the ceiling again. He felt unsettled. Off-kilter. Like the ground under him was shifting, and he couldn’t tell if it was an earthquake or just his own foundation cracking.

He wasn’t supposed to feel anything for Hawks. Let alone this messy cocktail of irritation and reluctant fondness and... whatever the hell this was becoming. He rolled onto his side again, phone still in hand.

——

Touya (12:36 AM):

go to sleep, birdbrain

some of us have work in the morning

featherfuck (12:36 AM):

you just don’t want to admit you’re smiling rn

Touya (12:36 AM):

shut up
 before i set my phone on fire

featherfuck (12:36 AM):

goodnight, hot stuff

Touya (12:36 AM):

goodnight, pest

——

He stared at the screen for a long time after that. Then locked the phone, set it on the table beside the couch, and exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for a week.

He still didn’t understand Hawks. He still wasn’t sure if he liked him. But he definitely didn’t hate talking to him. And that might’ve been the most terrifying thing of all.

Chapter Text

Touya woke up with a headache and Hawks in his goddamn brain. He laid there for a minute, face smashed into his pillow, eyes squinted at the streak of morning light cutting across the floor. His sheets were tangled around his legs, one arm flopped off the side of the bed, and his phone was still on the nightstand, untouched since last night. Because he was not, absolutely not, going to reread those texts like a loser.

He sat up slowly, joints cracking, and glared at the daylight like it had personally wronged him. His whole body felt... tense. Off-balance. And unfortunately, the source of that imbalance had wings, bad puns, and an annoyingly charming smile.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, muttering under his breath. “Fucking birdbrain.”

He was not going to think about their messages. He was not going to think about how easy it was to talk to Hawks last night. He was definitely not going to think about the way his chest did a weird, fluttery thing when Hawks called him not like most people.

It didn’t mean anything. It was late. He was tired. Hawks was being flirty and dumb and maybe just a little bit serious. Touya scrubbed a hand down his face and hissed through his teeth. No. Nope. Shut it down.

He had patrol today. Patrol with Hawks. Again. They were only a week into this and Touya only hated it more by the day.

He dragged himself into the shower and tried to wash the thoughts out with scalding hot water. It didn’t help. All it did was remind him of the way Hawks had said he was “hot” last night, which had to be a joke, but also, maybe not?

And why was he analyzing that?

He got dressed in a fresh version of his usual hero gear, blue and black layers, flame-proof fabric, jacket slung over one shoulder, and stared at himself in the mirror.

Sharp angles. Deadpan eyes. The occasional pale scars over his arms and collarbone. He didn’t look like someone people flirted with. He sure as hell didn’t look like someone who flirted back.

So why did he feel like some awkward idiot trying not to care about a guy he definitely did not like? Touya grabbed his gear and left his apartment before he could spiral any harder.

Their patrol meetup was in the usual place: top of a high-rise near downtown, just far enough from the public to talk without being overheard, but close enough to dive into action if needed.

Hawks was already there. Of course he was, he’d been early to everything they’d had to do together so far. He was perched on the edge of the building like a damn gargoyle, wings stretched slightly behind him to catch the wind, sunglasses pushed up into his hair. He was typing something on his phone, tongue poking slightly out of the corner of his mouth in concentration.

Touya hated that it was kind of... cute. Nope. Shut that down.

Hawks looked up the moment he landed. “Well, well. Look who actually showed up on time.”

Touya rolled his eyes. “Don’t start.”

Hawks grinned. “What? I didn’t even say anything about you looking like you just rolled out of bed and threatened your alarm clock with arson.”

“I didn’t threaten it. I already broke one a few days ago.”

Hawks snorted. “You sure you didn’t break one today? You look like you got electrocuted.”

Touya flipped him off without even looking. “You want to get moving or you just here to run your mouth?”

“I can multitask.” Hawks hopped to his feet, stretching out his arms and wings with an exaggerated yawn. “So, what’s the plan today, partner?”

Touya tensed slightly at the word. Partner. Last night’s conversation flickered behind his eyes like an old movie reel. He shoved it down.

“North route first. I’ll take rooftops, you hover above, watch the alleys.”

“Copy that, boss.” Hawks gave a mock salute.

Touya ignored the flutter in his chest.

They took off.

For the first half hour, it was fine. Better than fine, actually. The city was calm, at least for now. Morning rush was done, foot traffic had mellowed, and most villains were probably still asleep. The patrol path ran them along mid-level rooftops and pedestrian-heavy shopping zones, which gave them a good vantage point without being too exposed.

Hawks stayed above and to the side, never crowding. Every now and then, one of his feathers dipped low to nudge a stray bag or redirect a kid chasing a ball into the street. Subtle. Efficient.

Touya kept his eyes moving, scanning windows and shadows, letting the steady rhythm of walking and watching settle into his bones.

It was weirdly... comfortable, which pissed him off a little because Hawks was still there. Still watching. Still cracking little jokes over the comms.

“Hey, that street vendor’s got soba. Think if I ask nicely they’ll give me the pro hero discount?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, is someone angry?”

“I swear I will set your feathers on fire.”

“Not the pretty ones, right?”

Touya had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop a smirk. He hated how easily Hawks got under his skin. He hated it more when it didn’t feel bad. They moved through the district like a well-oiled machine, years of combat instinct making their rhythm almost instinctual, even if their dynamic was far from harmonious.

Touya caught movement to his left and immediately stilled, signaling with a subtle hand motion. Hawks saw it, adjusted his position in a breath, and hovered just behind him at a higher angle, waiting.

It was nothing, just a drunk guy stumbling out of a bar early, but Hawks didn’t say anything mocking, didn’t tease, just held formation like a real partner.

And Touya found himself stealing glances when he thought the other man wouldn’t notice. Which, of course, he did.

“You checking me out, hot stuff?”

Touya didn’t dignify that with a response.

“Because if so, I’d appreciate a heads-up. I could pose. Flex a little.”

“Do that and I’ll push you into a chimney.”

Hawks laugh crackled through the comms. “God, I love our banter. So much passion.”

Touya clicked his mic off just to avoid accidentally making an embarrassing noise.

They continued in silence for a few minutes. The quiet didn’t feel awkward, though. Just... calm. That weird, unsettling calm that Touya only ever got when he was alone or with someone who didn’t ask too much of him.

Hawks was still annoying. Still smug. Still loud and chaotic and impossible to read. But he didn’t press. He didn’t treat Touya like a bomb about to go off. He just existed near him, unbothered. And maybe that was the most dangerous thing of all. Because Touya felt himself softening. Relaxing. Forgetting to keep his guard up.

His thoughts drifted back to the messages again. Not the jokes, well, not just the jokes, but the quiet parts in between.

The “you seemed off” part. The “you’re not like most people.” The “I’ll stop if it’s too much.” The part that made him feel seen. He didn’t like that feeling but he wanted more of it and that made him feel like his ribs were being slowly twisted in opposite directions.

Hawks landed next to him when they reached a mid-point rest stop on the route, one of those half-abandoned rooftops with an old vending machine and a couple benches under a shade.

“Break?” he asked, already fishing in his coat for a protein bar. “My feathers are feeling sluggish.”

Touya shrugged, leaning against the railing. “You’re always sluggish. It’s called being lazy.”

Hawks grinned around a mouthful of whatever was in his protein bar. “You wound me.”

“Not yet, i’ve not.”

Hawks wiped his hands on a napkin and turned to look at him, eyes a little too sharp, a little too focused.

“You good?”

Touya blinked. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re quieter than usual.”

“I am usually quiet.”

“You’re brooding quiet. This is new.”

Touya scowled. “Maybe I just don’t feel like babysitting your ego today.”

Hawks didn’t rise to it. Didn’t even smirk. Just studied him for a second, then looked back out at the city below.
“Okay,” he said softly.

And somehow, that made Touya’s chest twist more. Because he hadn’t snapped. He hadn’t pushed. He hadn’t turned it into a joke. He’d just... accepted it.

Touya didn’t know what to do with that. So he said nothing. Let the silence stretch between them again, the kind that used to be sharp and brittle, but now felt almost... safe.

He hated it. He wanted more of it. He was going to explode.

Touya opened his mouth to say something, anything to break the silence, but before he could, a sharp noise crackled through his comm.
Police scanner alert. Disturbance. North sector.

Hawks’ head jerked up, all teasing gone in an instant. “Got something,” he said, already turning toward the edge of the roof. “Coordinates coming through.”

Touya was already moving. “Let’s go.”

And just like that, whatever the hell that moment was?

Gone. Replaced by motion. Heat. Routine. Action. Just the way Touya liked it. At least, that’s what he told himself.

It only took them a couple of minutes to reach the coordinates they’d been sent.

The warehouse that was there was the kind of place where bad things always happened. It reeked of mold, rust, and stale regret. Touya pressed himself to the wall, letting his quirk simmer low under his skin, ready to flare. Three figures were inside, villain nobodies, judging by the cheap masks and jittery movements.

He stepped forward.

“Hey,” he barked. “Illegal gathering of the stupid and the ugly ends now.”

They turned. One of them raised a hand and something glowed violet. Touya ducked, rolled, flame arcing from his fist, and landed a clean hit to the nearest guy’s shoulder. The scream was immediate. The second lunged at him with a bat. Bats. Why was it always bats?

He caught the swing with one hand and snapped the bat in two with a flare of heat. The third villain, the one with the glowy fingers, muttered something under their breath and launched a cloud of violet mist.

Touya blasted it with fire instinctively, but some of it touched his arm. It didn’t burn. It tingled. Like static. Like champagne bubbles under the skin. It made his breath hitch, just for a second.

“You okay?” Hawks called, suddenly appearing from above and pinning the glowy bastard to the floor with a precise wing-feather. “What the hell was that quirk?”

“No idea,” Touya said through gritted teeth. His pulse was thudding faster than it should. He blamed adrenaline. “It didn’t do anything.”

“You sure? Your face is red.”

“I use fire, idiot. It’s hot.”

Hawks narrowed his eyes but didn’t argue, instead cuffing the villains and calling it in. Touya leaned against a wall, pretending to be bored while his body betrayed him. His skin felt hot, too hot. Not burn-hot, but needy. It crawled with something thick and slow.

Touya felt a surge of heat and swore under his breath, staggering sideways before leaning back against the wall again. Hawks looked back at him, a hint of concern etched into his features.

“We should go inside. There’s no one in there and there might be a crate or something for you to sit on,” Hawks called out to him, then turned around and headed for the warehouse.

Touya didn’t reply, but followed him anyway.

The second they stepped into the building, Touya immediately knew something was very wrong.

His skin was buzzing even more now. Not the way it did when his flames were simmering just under the surface, no, this was different. This was sick. A slow, creeping heat under his skin, coiling low and tight in his gut, building pressure like a grenade with the pin half-out.

He ignored it at first. Didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of noticing.

Hawks was walking ahead, wings partially spread, feathers twitching as he scanned the room. Always on alert. Always fucking perfect. Touya hated him. Hated the way he moved, like he knew every inch of his body was made to be looked at. Hated the sound of his voice, always teasing, like everything was a game. Hated the way he smelled-

He staggered. The scent hit him hard. Sweat and wind and something earthy, warm, fucking delicious. His cock twitched in his pants, already aching. He let out a harsh breath and leaned against the wall.

“You okay?” Hawks asked without turning around.

“Don’t talk to me.”

That made Hawks pause. He turned, brow furrowing. “You’re sweating a lot. Shit, that quirk-”

“I said don’t talk to me.” Touya’s voice was low, ragged. There was gravel in it now. And heat. More than usual.

Hawks took a step forward. “Touya-”

Touya growled. “Don’t fucking say my name.”

But he didn’t move. He couldn’t. He was boiling now, nerves shot through with fire. His fists clenched against the wall, nails biting into his palms. The air felt too thin. His clothes clung to him like they knew too much. His cock was rock hard, pulsing. Every breath made it worse. And Hawks, that stupid, golden, infuriating idiot, was standing there looking concerned, like he cared.

“I’m gonna lose it,” Touya muttered. “I swear to god.”

“Is it the quirk?”

Touya laughed and it was bitter, humiliating. “You tell me,” he said, stepping into the light, letting Hawks see him, the flush on his face, the sweat down his neck, the outline of his cock straining through his pants.

Hawks blinked, jaw tight. “Fuck.”

Touya’s hands twitched. His brain screamed get out, but his body wanted something else entirely. Something he hadn’t admitted in months of tension and patrols and watching Hawks smirk and flirt and breathe.

“Go,” Touya said hoarsely. “Before I do something I can’t take back.”

But Hawks didn’t move, instead his gaze dropped and Touya saw it. Saw the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. Saw the way his hands flexed.

“…You’re not gonna hurt me.”

Touya laughed again. This time, lower. Rougher. “You have no fucking idea what I’d do to you.”

He was on Hawks before the other man could answer. He slammed him back against the nearest wall, one hand fisted in the collar of that stupid trench coat, the other pressing flat against Hawks’ chest. Heat radiated from his skin like an oven. Hawks sucked in a breath, lips parting.

“Wait-”

“Shut up,” Touya snarled, crashing their mouths together.

It wasn’t much of a kiss, it was more teeth and tongue and punishment. His hips rolled forward without meaning to, grinding his clothed cock against Hawks’, and the noise Hawks made, like a strangled gasp, only made him harder.

Hawks clutched at him, grabbing Touya’s jacket, breath already ragged. “Touya-”

“Say another word and I’ll fuck your throat instead.”

That shut him up fast. Touya shoved him harder against the wall, dragging his mouth down Hawks’ neck, biting hard enough to bruise. He wanted to mark. To leave proof. He couldn’t tell if it was the quirk or just years of rage and want colliding like a bomb, but he didn’t care anymore.

“Bet you’ve been waiting for this,” Touya muttered, licking a stripe up Hawks’ neck. “Playing the good little hero while you fantasize about getting fucked like a slut.”

Hawks let out a choked moan but didn’t deny it.

Touya growled, grabbing a fistful of blond hair and yanking his head back. “That it, bird boy? You want this?”

“Yes- fuck- yes.”

Touya kissed him again, this time deeper, filthier. He ground down against him, rutting like an animal, trying to chase even the smallest bit of relief. He needed to be inside, needed to tear something open, needed to fuck until the ache stopped. And Hawks was right here, warm and pliant and begging for it.

He spun them, shoving Hawks over an old desk. Papers scattered but Touya didn’t care. He yanked the coat down to his elbows, pushed the hero uniform halfway off. Clawed hands down that perfect back.

“Pants off,” he growled.

Hawks hesitated, only for a second. Then obeyed, breath catching as he shoved them down.

Touya’s eyes raked over him. Tight ass. Thighs trembling. Back arched like it was instinct. Fuck.

“You are a slut,” Touya said, voice wrecked. “Bet you get off thinking about me railing you.”

Hawks let out a high, broken sound. “Please-”

Touya didn’t have much patience due the quirk, so the prep was fast. He spat on his hand, slicked his fingers quickly, lined up and pressed two fingers in at once. He stretched Hawks open fast, fingers occasionally pumping in and out of him. Hawks stifled a moan.

It wasn’t long before Touya was replacing his fingers with his cock, pressing into Hawks fast enough to make him cry out.

“Shut up,” Touya growled, clapping a hand over his mouth and fucking in again, harder this time. “You don’t want anyone to hear us and come investigating, right?”

Hawks nodded, moaning against his hand.

Touya set a brutal pace. No rhythm, no mercy, just the raw, desperate need to get deeper, to burn the tension out of himself. His nails dug into Hawks’ hip. His other hand clamped his mouth shut. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the warehouse, echoing off rusted beams.

“Look at you,” Touya panted. “Taking it like you were made for this. You act so high and mighty, but you’re just a cockdrunk whore under all those feathers.”

Hawks keened, he was close, Touya could feel it. His whole body shuddering, muscles clenching around him, pulling him deeper.

Touya lost it. He grabbed Hawks by the hair, pulled him up against his chest, and fucked into him harder, growling against his ear.

“Say my fucking name.”

“Touya-”

“Louder.”

“Touya, fuck- please- please-”

“Yeah,” Touya snarled. “You’ll remember this every time you open that mouth.”

Hawks came with a strangled sob, cock untouched, shaking against him. Touya followed seconds later, burying himself deep and spilling, finally, finally getting some kind of release.

They collapsed against the desk, both of them gasping, sweat-soaked and ruined. The silence after was deafening.

Touya pulled out slow, watching the way Hawks’ thighs trembled, his hole fluttering and wet. His own cock twitched again at the sight.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Still not done.”
Hawks looked back over his shoulder, cheeks flushed, eyes glazed.

“…Then keep going.”

Touya stared. “Are you sure?” His voice cracked, a little.

Hawks gave a breathless smile. “What, you gonna get shy now?”

Touya glared at him. “Don’t test me.”

“Then shut up and fuck me again.”

Touya should’ve walked away. He should’ve zipped up his pants, said something cruel, and flown back to HQ with what little pride he had left.

Instead, he grabbed Hawks by the hips and shoved him back down onto the desk like he owned him.

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” Touya growled, voice fraying. “Bet you’ve been waiting for this since the first patrol.”

“Maybe I have,” Hawks panted, smiling through the tremble in his thighs. “You gonna do something about it or just keep running your mouth?”

Touya gritted his teeth. His cock was already hard again, throbbing, and Hawks was laid out in front of him like an open invitation, smirking, begging, slick and pliant.

Fine.

He grabbed the base of his cock, spit-slick and still wet from the last round, and lined up again, this time slower, meaner. He didn’t ease in, he pushed, dragging it out so Hawks felt every thick inch.

Hawks whimpered, legs twitching.

“Still cocky?” Touya muttered, rolling his hips in a slow grind, grinding against Hawks’ prostate. “Not sounding so smug now, are you?”

“Fuck you-”

Touya slammed in hard and Hawks cried out, arching like a bow.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Touya snarled, “over and over until you forget your own name.”

He grabbed Hawks by the waist and started fucking into him with heavy, punishing thrusts, harsher this time, rougher, the old desk creaking under them, dust flying up in the air with each slam.

Hawks was gasping, moaning, taking it like he was made for this. Like every second of it was what he’d wanted all along. Touya didn’t know if it was the quirk talking or something worse, something real, but it didn’t matter.

He needed to burn this out. His hands dug bruises into Hawks’ hips. He leaned over him, biting the back of his neck hard enough to leave a mark, rutting with reckless abandon. The pressure was still there, curling low in his stomach, but it felt... different now. A little less urgent. Less chemically-induced and more like instinct. Still hard. Still angry. But not as dizzying.

Hawks shifted under him and moaned, voice hitching. “Touya- fuck- deeper- ”

Touya grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked his head back. “You want it, Hawks?”

He slammed in, deep and sharp, and Hawks shouted, body trembling around him. Touya was panting now, with sweat dripping from his jaw. His body still humming with tension, but the haze, the uncontrollable burn, was starting to ebb. He was still hard, still desperate, but for the first time in the last half hour, he could think again.

And thinking was a fucking problem. Because he was buried to the hilt in Keigo fucking Takami, the golden boy of the Commission, his rival, his “partner”, the one person he hated more than anyone. And he wasn’t just fucking him, he was full-on wrecking him. And Hawks was loving every second of it.

“Look at you,” Touya muttered, voice cracking as he slowed his pace to a rough grind. “Ruined. You like being used, don’t you?”

Hawks nodded, panting hard, face pressed to the desk.

“You gonna come again just from getting fucked?”

“Maybe,” he choked out. “You gonna- fuck- mock me or finish the job?”

Touya let out a low moan. He picked up the pace, snapping his hips into a brutal rhythm, hand slapping down on Hawks’ ass hard enough to sting. “You think I won’t finish the job?”

“Do it,” Hawks gasped. “Give it to me. Fuck me like you hate me.”

That was easy enough considering Touya did hate him.

But something about the way Hawks was trembling, moaning, wanting, made that hate curdle into something more dangerous. Something too real.

His orgasm hit fast, sharper, clearer than before, less fogged by the quirk. His nails dug into Hawks’ back as he came again, groaning deep in his chest, emptying himself into him with a final, stuttering thrust.

It wasn’t just pleasure, it was release. And the second it was over, the tension drained from his limbs all at once. He pulled out with a shaky breath.

The heat was gone just like that. Touya stumbled back a step, dazed. His chest heaved. The air was cooler now. His skin wasn’t crawling anymore. The quirk had worn off. And that was when the weight of what just happened hit him like a cinderblock to the ribs.

Hawks was still bent over the desk, breathing heavy, thighs streaked with cum, body trembling and marked up in ways Touya couldn’t unsee. The confidence was gone now. In its place was something quiet. Vulnerable. Touya ran a hand through his hair, jaw clenched.

“Shit.”

Hawks glanced back at him, eyes hazy but sharp. “Quirk wore off?”

“Yeah.”

Silence. Hawks pushed himself upright, slow and shaky, wincing slightly. “Good.”

Touya blinked. “Good?”

“Means the rest of that fucking,” Hawks said, wiping at his mouth, “was you.”

Touya stiffened. “You’re really pushing your luck, bird boy.”

“You already fucked the luck out of me,” Hawks muttered. “What’s left to push?”

Touya didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Not when he was standing there, pants open, cock softening, and the taste of Hawks still on his tongue. Not when the haze was gone and all that was left was reality.

The worst part? It didn’t feel like a mistake. And that scared the shit out of him.

The warehouse was dead quiet now, except for their breathing. Touya stood there, pants half on, staring at the mess he’d made. Hawks was bent over the desk, slowly straightening up with the grace of a man whose spine had just been tested beyond its limits. His uniform was halfway off, coat hanging from one arm, his thighs slick with evidence of what they’d done. He looked wrecked but he didn’t look sorry.

Touya kind of hated him for that. The high was gone. The burning need replaced by a bone-deep ache and a creeping sense of what the fuck did I just do. He could see the bruises already forming across Hawks’ hips from how hard he’d gripped him. Touya’s throat was dry and his hands were still shaking.

Hawks stretched with a quiet groan and glanced over his shoulder.

“You gonna just stare, or help me clean up?”

Touya scoffed. “You were enjoying yourself a lot for someone who needs help now.”

Hawks grinned, wobbly, but still irritating. “I didn’t say I regretted it. I said I need help.”

Touya rolled his eyes but moved against his better judgment. He tugged the rest of his coat off and used the cleaner lining to wipe down Hawks’ thighs, fast and rough, trying not to look at the twitch in his hips as he did it.

Hawks hissed through his teeth. “Fuck, you could be a little gentler.”

“Could be,” Touya muttered. “But where’s the fun in that.”

When he was done, he threw the coat over a busted chair and grabbed a mostly-clean towel from a nearby locker to finish wiping himself off. He was sore. Not from the fight. Not really. More like post-adrenaline crash, post-orgasm regret, post-whatever the hell that was.

Hawks was still sitting on the edge of the desk, half-dressed, watching him.

Touya turned to glare. “What.”

“You’ve got a mark on your neck,” Hawks said, casually. “Kinda hot.”

Touya threw the towel at his face. It hit him dead-on. Hawks laughed, catching it with one hand. “Wow. Violence aftercare. Very on-brand for you.”

“Would you prefer I cuddle you and whisper sweet nothings?” Touya asked, voice dripping acid. “Wanna braid each other’s hair while we’re at it?”

Hawks tilted his head, smirking. “Not ruling it out.”

Touya flipped him off, but there was no real heat behind it anymore.

He found his comm and tapped the signal button. “Phoenix to base,” he said, voice flat. “Patrol’s cut short. We encountered a rogue quirk user. No civilians hurt, but there was exposure. Minor injuries.”

The voice on the other end crackled through. “Copy that. You need pickup?”

“No. We’re headed back manually. Gimme an hour.”

“Understood. Report to med after.”

“Sure,” Touya muttered, cutting the comm.

Hawks pulled his pants the rest of the way on, finally looking more or less like a hero again, except for the sex-hair and the faint bruising across his neck.

His wings fluttered once, then settled. “So. We’re injured now?”

“Your pride definitely is,” Touya muttered.

“You’re the one who practically bit my throat out.”

“You asked for it.”

“And you listened.”

Touya grit his teeth. “Don’t make me regret that.”

Hawks stood, slowly, wincing a little but clearly milking it. “I’d be offended if you didn’t already.”

They moved through the warehouse side by side, quiet again. The weight of what happened lingered in the air, thick as smoke. Touya kept his arms crossed, refusing to let his hands twitch toward Hawks’ waist again.

He couldn’t believe he’d touched him like that. Fucked him like that. He also couldn’t believe how much worse he felt now that it was over.

Not because of guilt. Because of the way Hawks kept stealing glances at him like he was trying to figure something out.

They stepped outside into the cooling night air. The city lights flickered in the distance, glittering like they had no idea what just happened here.

Touya exhaled slowly. The burn under his skin was mostly gone. But something else had replaced it, a hollow heat in his chest, like a scar that hadn’t formed yet.

“You gonna tell anyone?” he asked, suddenly, voice sharp.

Hawks blinked at him. “Tell them what?”

Touya narrowed his eyes. “Don’t play dumb.”

Hawks shrugged. “What, that we got hit by a quirk and then you railed me over a desk? Nah. That’s between us.”

Touya studied him. “Why?”

Hawks tilted his head. “Because I don’t hate you as much as you think I do.”

Touya’s jaw tightened. “I still hate you.”

“I know,” Hawks said softly. “That’s why I’m not asking for anything.”

Touya looked away.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t thinking about it,” Hawks added after a beat.

Touya glared. “Don’t push it.”

Hawks smirked again. “I’m not.”

But he was. In that quiet, infuriating way of his.

They walked in silence for another few minutes before Hawks said, under his breath, “Thanks for staying.”

Touya didn’t look at him, didn’t say anything, but he didn’t deny it either. And that was maybe the closest thing either of them had ever said to I care.

Chapter Text

It had been two days since what happened between them, and neither had spoken about it yet. This was first time after the incident that they had patrol together, and Touya was still trying to forget about it.

The city skyline was quiet, the kind of quiet that only showed up after 2 A.M. when the drunks had mostly passed out, the clubs were closing, and the late-night criminals were smart enough to stay hidden.

Touya crouched on the edge of the rooftop, elbow on his knee, eyes tracking movement down below. His coat fluttered behind him in the high-altitude breeze. He looked calm, professional, and bored.

He wasn’t any of those.

Somewhere behind him, Hawks landed with a soft rush of feathers, the kind of arrival that made no noise and still managed to piss Touya off.

“Nothing on the east side,” Hawks said, all business. “Should we check the old factory block again?”

Touya didn’t flinch, didn’t look at him. “Maybe.”

The silence hung there.

Hawks shifted behind him, feathers rustling faintly. “You’re chatty tonight.”

Touya’s voice was flat. “Trying something new. Less irritation exposure.”

“Wow,” Hawks said. “That almost sounded like wit. Proud of you.”

Touya finally turned his head, gave him a blank look. “Go fuck yourself.”

Hawks grinned. “See? There’s my guy.”

Touya’s jaw ticked. They’d been doing this for days. Sliding back into the same rhythm they always had, with insults, tension, and passive aggression layered so thick it might as well be armor. The Commission barely noticed a thing. Heroes don’t have sex scandals when both parties are too emotionally constipated to talk about it.

Not that it mattered. No one knew what happened in that warehouse since there was no cameras and no recordings. And both of them had agreed (without actually discussing it, of course) to pretend it hadn’t happened at all.

No mention of the quirk. No mention of the heat. The way Touya had slammed into Hawks so hard the desk cracked. The way Hawks had moaned for it. No mention of what had happened. No mention of Touya staying long after the drug had worn off.

They’d walked back to base, filed their bullshit incident report, claimed mild exposure, faked injuries, and then fucked off home without another word.

A couple days later, they were right back to joint patrols like they hadn’t crossed a line Touya had never intended to cross. He shouldn’t have cared less.

But for some goddamn reason, every time he looked at Hawks now, he remembered, the way his voice broke, the way his back arched, the way he’d said Touya’s name like it meant something. And every time it happened, Touya shoved it back down. Hard.

They dropped down to street level together, Touya landing first, Hawks gliding in behind him. The old industrial block smelled like rust and wet cement. Nothing new. Nothing dangerous. Touya started forward, boots crunching on broken concrete.

“So,” Hawks said casually, keeping pace beside him, “how’s the family?”

Touya stopped walking. Looked at him, dead-eyed.

Hawks smirked. “Too soon?”

Touya rolled his eyes and kept walking.

“Just making conversation,” Hawks said, wings fluttering behind him. “You don’t give me much to work with.”

“I’m not your fucking project,” Touya muttered. “You want polite banter, go talk with Jeanist.”

“Jeanist doesn’t threaten to incinerate me when I breathe too loud,” Hawks said brightly.

“Sounds like a win-win.”

Hawks grinned wider. “Nah. You’re more fun.”

Touya didn’t answer.

They stopped at the base of an old warehouse, the same kind of place the quirk incident had happened. Not the same one, that one had been quietly demolished two days after their report. Commission cleanup, Touya figured. Burn the evidence, keep the narrative clean.

He didn’t ask questions. It wasn’t his job to care.

They split up, like always, Touya taking the inside, Hawks scanning from above. Touya liked it better that way. Less exposure. Less proximity. Less heat crawling under his collar every time Hawks got too close.

It wasn’t even attraction. Not really. It was something worse. Something more complicated. Something that made Touya angry at himself because it didn’t just go away.

The quirk had worn off but he could still feel the echo of it.

He found nothing inside, just dust, crates, maybe one or two rats bold enough to scurry across the floor when he got too close. He heard the rustle of wings behind him before Keigo even said anything.

“Clear upstairs.”

Touya didn’t look back. “Same down here.”

Hawks landed next to him, smooth and quiet, arms folded. “You good?”

Touya tensed. “Why are you asking that?”

Hawks shrugged. “Just seemed like you were off today.”

“I’m always off.”

“Yeah,” Hawks said. “But usually you hide it better.”

Touya turned, eyes narrow. “Why do you care?”

There it was again, too close and too familiar. Hawks was standing there, a foot away, head tilted, brows slightly drawn together like he actually gave a shit. It made Touya want to shove him.

“Just checking,” Hawks said, and stepped back before Touya could explode.

They left it at that.

The rest of the patrol was a blur. Streets, alleys, rooftops. Routine. Empty.

But Touya couldn’t stop watching the way Hawks moved. The line of his back. The way his feathers shifted with every breath. He noticed too much now. The way Hawks’ lips parted when he was thinking. The soft furrow in his brow when something didn’t sit right.

He hadn’t noticed that stuff before. Or maybe he had and pretended not to. Now he couldn’t help it.

They landed back at HQ around 3:45 A.M. The security team gave a half-hearted wave. Nothing to report. No injuries. No chaos.

Touya hated how easy it was to act normal.

“You heading home?” Hawks asked, voice casual.

Touya nodded. “You?”

“Might crash here. I’ve got another patrol at nine.”

Touya turned to leave but paused. He didn’t know why he paused. Maybe because it felt like the end of something. Maybe because it wasn’t.

Hawks leaned against the wall, watching him. “You sure you’re good?”

Touya didn’t answer. He just walked away.

Back in his apartment, Touya stood under a freezing shower for twenty minutes and still felt too hot. Not the same kind of heat as the aphrodisiac. Not even the same kind he felt when he was angry.

It was worse. It was this fucking stupid, slow, creeping kind of heat that settled under his ribs and behind his eyes and made him feel like he was missing something. Or maybe like he wanted something he shouldn’t.

He dried off, lit a cigarette with his finger, and stared out the window at the city lights.

He could still feel the phantom drag of his hands on Keigo’s hips. The sound he made when Touya had bitten his shoulder. The way he’d whispered “please” like it cost him something. Touya exhaled smoke slowly, grinding his teeth.

He shouldn’t care. He didn’t even like the guy. They hated each other and they only worked together because they had to. They clashed on literally everything that they did. Touya had spent most of his career wishing Hawks would fall off a building and take his stupid playboy smirk with him.

But now, whenever he saw that smirk, his brain didn’t go to insults. It went to that night.

The sounds, the sweat, the way Hawks had looked back at him, flushed and wrecked, and said, “Then keep going.” And Touya had kept going. That was the part that haunted him, because he could’ve stopped, but he hadn’t wanted to. And he still wasn’t sure he regretted it. That was what scared him.

With a low grunt, Touya shoved himself away from the window. He flicked the cigarette out into the city wind, watched the ember disappear, then turned and headed back inside.

His feet were heavy, muscles tight, and everything in him buzzed like he hadn’t moved enough, hadn’t burned enough of it off.

Still, he went through the motions. Showered again, pointlessly. Brushed his teeth. Toweled his hair and tossed the rag somewhere near the laundry bin. Threw on a pair of loose sweats and dropped into bed like gravity had given up on him completely.

He lay there, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. Then the wall. Then the clock.
4:12 A.M.

He turned over and shut his eyes, trying not to see him. Hawks. That fucking look on his face. The way his lips parted. The heat in his eyes. The voice that still echoed in Touya’s ears every time he tried to be alone with himself.

He flipped onto his back with a huff and stared at the ceiling again. Maybe if he counted backwards from a hundred. Maybe if he held his breath. Maybe if he set himself on fire and finally just slept through it. He rolled over again, yanked the covers up to his chest, then shoved them off entirely.

Everything felt too tight, too hot, too full of things he didn’t want to name.

He couldn’t sleep.

It was the third time he’d rolled over in bed, covers half-tangled around his legs, heat trapped under the sheets like a bad joke. He’d showered. Twice. His hair was still damp and his skin smelled like cheap soap and ash. But none of it had helped.

The apartment was dark, save for the red glow of the clock that now read 4:15 A.M. on the nightstand. Touya exhaled hard and stared at the ceiling, the burn behind his eyes pulsing like a migraine. Sleep never came easy. Not with his body always running too hot and his brain wired like a live trap. But this? This was something worse.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Hawks’ face. Him bent over that desk, sweating, mouth open, begging. He dragged a hand down his face with a growl and sat up, sheets sticking to his back. The heat under his skin wasn’t the same, it wasn’t the burn of his quirk, or leftover aphrodisiac, or even horniness. It was something else itching in his bones and deep his chest.

He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, then got up and padded barefoot to the balcony. The sliding glass door squeaked. He should fix that but he knew he never would.

The night air was cold. Sharp and unwelcoming like it usually was. He stepped outside and lit a cigarette with the tip of his finger, leaning both elbows on the railing. The city sprawled out below him, glowing and alive, always watching. Lights flickered from office towers and train lines. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, then faded.

He dragged hard on the cigarette and let the smoke burn all the way down. The balcony was small, barely big enough for a chair, if he gave a shit about furniture. Which he didn’t. It was just concrete and rusted railing and chipped paint from when a villain had tossed him into the side of the building last year. He never fixed that either.

His phone buzzed from inside but he didn’t move, just let it ring once, then twice. Voicemail. Another text followed.

He flicked ash off the edge of the balcony, glanced inside, then grabbed the phone off the windowsill and looked.

——

featherfuck (4:23 AM):
u home?
——

Touya stared at the screen, thumb hovering.

——
Touya (4:24 AM):
Yeah.

——

That was it. One word, no follow-up. He stared at the message thread, jaw clenched, and wondered if Hawks would call. If he’d push. Show up. Touya wouldn’t let him in but he might stand there and think about it.

The phone buzzed again.

——

featherfuck (4:26 AM):
cant sleep

——

Touya didn’t answer. He didn’t want to give it space. Give it air. He didn’t want this to be a thing, because if it was a thing, it wasn’t just about the quirk. Or the sex. Or the stupid way Hawks smirked at him like he knew something Touya didn’t.

If it was a thing, then that meant Touya wanted it. And he didn’t. He didn’t. Not with Hawks. Not with his rival, his partner, the Commission’s golden lapdog who always followed orders with a wink and a lazy smile and then got away with everything.

Not with the man who got under his skin worse than anyone else ever had. Except he did want that, and he hated that he wanted it.

Touya lit another cigarette. Third one, maybe fourth, but he’d lost count. He leaned heavier on the railing and let the cold wind soak into his skin.

Below, a couple walked down the sidewalk, arms linked, laughing. They looked young, stupid, and annoyingly happy. Touya wanted to scream at them just for existing. Instead, he flicked ash off the edge again.

His phone buzzed but he didn’t check it this time. Just stood there and let it sit in his pocket, ignored.

His skin still itched with memory, hot skin, wet breath, fingernails digging into hips. And eyes, yellow-gold, wide, wrecked, soft in a way Touya didn’t understand and definitely didn’t want to understand.

He wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened. That he hadn’t liked how Hawks sounded. That he hadn’t memorised the way his body moved. That he hadn’t caught himself watching Hawks’ hands earlier tonight (hands, for fuck’s sake) and wondered what they’d look like pressed to the wall, to the mattress, to the-

“Fuck,” Touya muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

The cigarette burned low so he dropped it into the tray and lit another before he could think too hard. He needed to do something. Hit something, maybe train, go on patrol, go on a run. But he was off-duty for the next two days, and the thought of being alone with himself for that long made him nauseous.

He should call someone.

Not just someone, he wanted to call Hawks, but he knew he absolutely shouldn’t. He couldn’t call Hawks. But his fingers still hovered over the contact list, muscle memory from a week of texting logistics, shift reports, and sarcastic check-ins that both of them pretended were necessary.

He never used to check Hawks’ texts this fast. He never used to notice when Hawks didn’t text back. And now it was all he could think about.

The phone buzzed again. He gave in and looked.

——

featherfuck (4:32 AM):
didn’t mean to bother you
go to sleep firestarter

——

Touya stared at the screen, thinking about how the hell he could reply to that. Then, before he could stop himself he typed back a response.

——

Touya [4:43 A.M.]:
I’m on my balcony.

——

There was nothing special about it, no flirting, but it felt dangerous anyway. The response came quick.

——

featherfuck (4:44 AM):
u okay?

——

Touya froze. The cigarette burned too close to his fingers and he dropped it, crushing it out.

He didn’t reply. He didn’t know how to reply to that. Not with snark, not with heat, not with anything that would be enough without being too much.

He closed the phone, tossed it on the balcony floor, and stared out at the city again, arms crossed over the railing, tension coiled like a snake under his ribs.

Hawks had asked if he was okay. The sane part of Touya knew that was just talk. Tired rambling from a man who didn’t sleep and filled silence with charm and questions like it would save him. Touya knew that Hawks flirted like breathing. Used warmth like a weapon.

But another part of him, the part that still remembered the way Hawks had whispered “please” without trying to be cute, thought maybe it wasn’t bullshit. Maybe Hawks meant it.

And that was the problem because Touya didn’t know what he’d do if he showed up. He wasn’t sure if he’d shove him against the door and kiss him until his brain shut off, or slam it in his face and tell him to fuck off. Both sounded equally likely.

He stared out at the city for another fifteen minutes, waiting for the heat in his chest to go away. It didn’t.

He finally picked the phone up again around 5 A.M.

There was no new texts, just the old ones staring back at him. Hawks saying, ‘u okay?’.

He typed out, “Don’t.”

Then paused, deleted it, and typed again: “It’s cold.”

Deleted that too. His thumb hovered. He didn’t end up sending anything, just locked the phone, shoved it in his pocket, and rested against the railing of the balcony.

And when the sun finally started to bleed over the skyline, Touya was still on that balcony, arms crossed, ash clinging to his fingertips, pretending he wasn’t waiting for a knock that never came.

Chapter Text

The next few days passed in a blur. Touya had two patrols with Hawks, and a day off that he spent in his apartment in that time.

It was the end of the second week, so time for another meeting. Another two hours of sitting next to Hawks’ smug, beautiful face and not setting it on fire. Touya counted that as growth.

He walked into the Commission’s briefing room fifteen minutes late, because punctuality was for people who gave a shit. His jacket was half-zipped, his eyes were bloodshot, and he smelled faintly of singed coffee filters.

The air was thick with that overly clean scent of disinfectant and citrus, and the usual suspects were already scattered around the long-ass table.

Mirko had her boots up on the polished surface again. Jeanist looked like he was about to file a complaint about it. Mic was rambling about something no one was listening to. Aizawa was either asleep or at least pretending to be. No one could ever tell.

And Hawks, of course, was there. The bastard always liked to be early. Perfectly hero uniform, legs kicked up, wings preened, like some annoying golden retriever who knew he was the Commission’s favorite pet.

Touya barely glanced at him as he slid into the seat two down, one empty chair acting as their unofficial ceasefire zone. The same buffer they’d kept for the last two meetings. Close enough for Endeavor to breathe a sigh of relief. Far enough apart that Touya wouldn’t lunge across the table.

He didn’t plan to. Yet.

"Morning, hot stuff," Hawks said, without even looking.

"Choke," Touya replied coolly, unbothered. Or at least convincingly pretending to be.

“Flirty today,” Hawks teased.

Touya rolled his eyes so hard he almost saw last week. Before he could deliver a scathing reply about how some of them had real work to do instead of posing for cameras and seducing fanboys, Mirko leaned over from across the table, eyes locked on Hawks with the evil little gleam that meant trouble.

"So," she said casually, "i saw you out last night. How was your date, Romeo?"

Hawks didn’t miss a beat. “Good cardio.”

Touya nearly swallowed his tongue. He didn’t react, obviously, just kept his face blank and his body relaxed, looking down at the table like it held the secrets of the universe and not just a half-finished notes app full of villain names and unhinged doodles of fire.

Mirko grinned like a shark. “You’re glowing, birdbrain. I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Oh please,” Hawks replied. “I always glow. I’m just naturally radiant.”

Touya didn't look up. Didn’t speak. Didn’t breathe for a second too long. It didn’t mean anything. Why would it?

Hawks probably went on dates every week. He was a public figure, the kind with a huge following and way too many thirsty fan accounts. People wanted him. Badly. Touya had seen the fan art. Some of it was, to say the least, graphic. Unreasonably so.

So what if he’d been out with someone last night? So what if it was a date? Who fucking cared? Definitely not Touya.

“Focus,” Endeavor’s voice snapped across the table, dragging everyone’s attention to the screen. “We’re already behind schedule.”

Touya welcomed the distraction like it owed him money. As Endeavor started reviewing team metrics for the week, Touya tried to listen. He tried. But his brain kept circling back like a moth to a goddamn flame.

Hawks had been on a date. Fine. Whatever. But that meant someone had seen that smirky face across the table, been on the receiving end of one of those lazy bedroom eyes, touched the scarred fingers that fidgeted when he was bored, maybe kissed that sharp mouth-

Touya clenched his jaw, focusing hard on the datapoint Endeavor was droning through. Something about illegal arms trafficking in the southern sector. Important, probably.

His leg bounced under the table. It was fine. He wasn’t jealous. That wasn’t the word for it. He was just irritated that Hawks had the energy for a date after patrols. That he could smile and charm someone after a week of Touya screaming at him through comms. That he got to unwind while Touya went home and stared at the ceiling until his own thoughts made him want to commit petty crimes.

Totally normal irritation. Totally unrelated to the way Hawks’ shirt collar was slightly looser than usual. Or the way a purple-red blotch was just barely visible under the curve of his jawline.

Touya immediately froze up. No fucking way. He glanced again, slower this time, more precise. Just peeking out from under that smug, slouchy neckline was two bruises, faint but unmistakable, the kind that didn't come from a villain encounter unless someone had been throwing very specific punches.

Hickeys. Hawks had hickeys.

Touya stared, just for a second too long, before dragging his gaze back to his screen. His ears burned, but not from embarrassment. No, definitely not. He wasn’t embarrassed, he was angry, because who the hell came to a Commission meeting with visible marks like that? Who basically bragged about it with their stupid open collar and their lazy posture and their shiny hair that Touya wasn’t staring at? Who made him feel like this, like he was somehow missing something he never even wanted in the first place?

God, he hated him. He hated how easily Hawks moved through the world, charming and fast and untouchable. He hated how good he was at pretending nothing affected him. He hated how he looked at Touya sometimes, like he was trying to figure him out and was amused by what he found.

He especially hated that for one millisecond, one stupid second, Touya wanted to be the reason for those bruises. He clenched his pen so hard it snapped in half.

“Problem, Phoenix?” Jeanist asked stiffly, glancing over.

Touya didn’t even blink. “No. Just imagining how much better this meeting would be if you weren’t here.”

Jeanist sniffed in offence, Mic snickered, Aizawa didn’t even look up, and Hawks, of course, noticed everything.

“Aw,” he said, leaning just slightly into Touya’s peripheral vision. “You jealous I went out without you, partner?”

Touya turned to him slowly, expression calm and deadly. “I’d rather be hit by a truck full of knives.”

Hawks winked. “No you wouldn’t.”

“Fucking die, Takami.”

“You wish.”

Across the table, Endeavor slammed a fist down. “Focus, both of you!”

The whole room jolted, and even Aizawa cracked an eye open.

Touya sat back, hands folded neatly in his lap, the picture of innocence. He caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the tablet screen. His scowl looked permanent. He needed to get it together fast.

The meeting dragged on, all logistics and projected assignments and briefings on upcoming threats. Touya absorbed it mechanically. Half of his brain processed the information, the other half ran circles around the image burned into his skull, Hawks, tilted head, lips on someone else’s skin, probably laughing into their neck. Probably touching them with those same scarred hands he used to redirect villains mid-air, the ones that never seemed to stop moving.

Touya's stomach twisted but he forced his expression to stay flat. No one noticed anything. Not even Hawks, which was both a relief and a disappointment.

Let him flirt. Let him fuck whoever he wanted. What did it matter? They hated each other. That had always been the point. Their entire working relationship was built on mutual loathing and violent tension, and a dangerously effective synergy that made the Commission nervous and their enemies terrified.

Touya wasn’t some lovesick fool. He wasn’t in denial. He was in control. So what if Hawks kissed someone? So what if he came to work with the evidence of it still on him, flaunting it without a care? So what if, deep down, buried somewhere beneath the flames and the hatred and the years of unresolved daddy issues, Touya wanted to be the one who made him look like that?

None of it mattered and Touya was completely fucking fine.

“...And that brings us to Unit Z,” Endeavor was saying, dragging him back to reality. “Phoenix. Hawks. Update?”

Touya barely moved. “Still functional. Still not friends.”

Hawks smirked. “Still hot.”

“Still not interested.”

“Still denying it.”

Endeavor closed his eyes. “God, why did I assign you two together?”

“Because you have bad instincts,” Touya said.

“Because we get shit done,” Hawks added. “Even if he glares the entire time.”

“I glare because you're unbearable.”

“See? Communication. That’s growth.”

Endeavor looked five minutes away from retirement. “Fine,” he muttered. “Whatever the hell you’re doing, it’s working. Just don’t let it get any worse.”

Touya nodded once. No promises. The meeting finally came to an end. Chairs scraped back and people filed out in pairs and trios. Mirko shot Hawks a wink as she passed and said something low under her breath that made him laugh.

Touya didn't hear it, didn’t want to hear it. He stood up fast, and didn’t look at Hawks. Didn’t look at his throat. Didn’t look at the mark he hadn’t made.

Touya stormed out of the meeting room like it owed him money. He didn’t stop and refused to look at anyone. Didn’t even glance back to see if Hawks was behind him. He didn’t want to. The burn behind his ribs told him everything he needed to know.

He was mad.
Not just mad, actually, he was furious and felt unhinged. His skin itched with it, his throat burned, his hands were shaking, and it wasn’t from a quirk surge this time.

He needed space, anything, just breath of air not laced with Hawks’ voice and Hawks’ scent and Hawks’ stupid goddamn hickeys.

The break room was empty, thank fucking god. He shoved open the door with enough force to make it rattle in the frame and collapsed onto the crappy faux-leather couch like gravity personally attacked him.

His knee bounced. He didn’t even want the shitty instant coffee sitting on the side table, and Touya was always the first one to mainline caffeine like it was oxygen. No, right now, he wanted to scream, or explode something, or pin Hawks to a wall and-

Touya’s eyes squeezed shut. Nope. No. No. No. He was not thinking about that. He was not thinking about how red those marks were or how fresh they were. And how daring Hawks had to be, waltzing into a hero meeting looking like he just climbed out of someone else’s bed with the receipt stamped on the side of his neck.

No shame. No explanation. Just Hawks being Hawks. Touya had never hated anyone more in his life.

Well, with the exception of Enji Todoroki.

The door opened but he didn’t move, didn’t even look. Just pulled his hood up, as if that would protect him from the emotional nuclear blast that was walking into this room any second now.

Sure enough, the loud voice came first.
“-told you he was gonna bail first. He practically sprinted.”

“Didn’t even give me one of his patented death glares,” Hawks added, amusement layered under every word.“Tragic. I was looking forward to it.”

Mirko laughed, dropping into a chair and kicking her legs up. “He’s probably off burning down a punching bag.”

“I would prefer he didn’t do that in the break room again,” Jeanist muttered, already reaching for the tea station.

Touya didn’t dare to even breathe. He felt Hawks enter the room. He didn't need to look but he did anyway. Of course he fucking did.

He glanced up, and there it was. The other side of Hawks’ neck. A second constellation of bruises, scattered like little violets in the dip between jaw and collarbone. Even darker. Even more than the side that Touya had seen in the meeting.

Touya’s body reacted before his brain had time to process and he was already on his feet, striding across the room. Hawks turned just in time for Touya to grab his wrist. The room went dead quiet.

“Private,” Touya said, voice like smoke and gasoline.

Hawks blinked. “Sorry?”

Touya didn’t repeat himself, just yanked Hawks towards him. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt but it was close.

Hawks let himself be dragged, clearly amused. “Well, shit, if you wanted to get me alone, hot stuff, you could’ve just-”

“Shut up.”

Touya didn’t look at the others, didn’t care about the eyes on him, or Rumi’s cackle. Jeanist’s just gave an exasperated sigh and Aizawa’s glanced up, bored, from behind his coffee mug.

No one tried to stop them. No one thought it meant anything because no one could possibly believe Touya would ever want to be alone with Hawks unless he was about to commit a crime.

They were right. Just not in the way they thought.

He shoved open the nearest side door, a storage room or a training file closet, Touya didn’t give a shit what it was, and dragged Hawks inside with him. The door slammed shut behind them and Touya immediately locked it.

The second it clicked, Hawks sighed. “Okay, what is your problem-”

“Who the fuck did that to you?”

Hawks froze but Touya stalked forward, backing him up against the nearest wall. “You parading around with that on your neck like it’s nothing? Like it doesn’t mean anything?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” Hawks said, but his voice was quieter now. Less sharp and more unsure.

That only made Touya more furious. “Don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“I didn’t come in here to get lectured.”

“Then you should’ve covered them better.”

He didn’t touch him yet. He just stared, eyes locked on every mark dotting Hawks’ throat, jaw, collarbone. Too many. Too fresh.

Someone had had their mouth on him and that someone wasn’t Touya. His stomach twisted.

“So who was it?” he asked, voice like smoke and ash. “Who touched you?”

Hawks’ lips pressed tight. He didn’t answer and Touya’s restraint cracked. He leaned in fast, one hand braced on the wall beside Hawks’ head, the other grabbing his jaw. Not hard, not enough to hurt, but firm. He tilted Hawks’ head just enough to expose the damage. One hickey near his jaw. Another lower, over his pulse. A cluster just peeking out of his shirt.

Touya growled under his breath. “Ugly,” he muttered, bending down.

And then he bit. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to make Hawks gasp, hips twitching forward just a little. Touya sucked hard over the first mark, mouth rough and possessive, tongue dragging over it after like he was trying to erase the other guy’s mark with his own.

“Touya-“ Hawks tried.

But he didn’t push him away. Didn’t move at all, in fact, except for the slight tilt of his head when Touya moved lower.

“You gonna tell me to stop?” Touya murmured against his collarbone. “Or are you gonna stand there and let me fix this mess?”

Hawks swallowed and said nothing. That was enough. Touya grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it open, buttons popping loose with the force. Hawks gasped again but didn’t protest. His chest rose and fell fast, cheeks flushed, lips parted.

Touya stared because there were even more hickeys. All down his chest, over old freckles and sensitive skin. His shirt was torn open, leaving him bare, vulnerable. And beautiful.

“You let him do this to you?” Touya asked, low and sharp.

Hawks closed his eyes. “Just shut up.”

Touya smirked. “Gladly.”

And then he went in, mouth on his skin like punishment, hands flat against Hawks’ ribs to hold him in place. He worked fast, sucking and biting and licking his way across every exposed inch. Replacing each mark one by one. Making them darker. Deeper. His.

Hawks was gasping by the fourth, whimpering by the fifth, and gripping Touya’s shoulder by the seventh, fingers digging in like he couldn’t take it but didn’t want him to stop.

“You’re mine,” Touya growled against his skin. “You hear me?”

Hawks moaned, breathless. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Still letting me do it.”

“Because it feels good.”

Touya paused, then kissed the spot he just marked, tongue slow now, soothing. “Yeah?” he murmured. “You like this?”

Hawks nodded, weakly, and that was all it took for Touya’s rough edge to begin to soften. His hands gentled, one sliding up to cup the back of Hawks’ neck while his mouth pressed open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone. No more biting. Just heat and breath and care.

“Fuck,” Touya whispered. “You smell like him. Not like me. I hate it.”

Hawks opened his eyes and for the first time since Touya had pulled him in here, his expression cracked.

“You wanna know why I let him touch me?” he asked.

Touya froze.

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Hawks voice wavered. “I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t think. I just- every time I closed my eyes, I saw you fucking me in that warehouse, holding me like you hated me and wanted me all at once. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

He breathed in shaky.

“So I went out with someone. Thought maybe if I kissed someone else, if they touched me, I’d forget you. Even just for one night.”

Touya stood motionless, staring at him.

Hawks’ voice cracked. “It didn’t work.”

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. Touya’s hand on his neck loosened, then slid around to cup his jaw. His thumb brushed over Hawks’ flushed cheek, gentle.

“…You wanted to forget me?”

“I had to,” Hawks said softly. “You don’t even like me. You treat me like shit.”

Touya’s heart kicked hard in his chest. “I don’t hate you,” he said before he could stop himself. “I always used to hate you and i don’t know when, or how, or why, but that hatred has changed.”

Hawks looked both shocked and confused at that.

Touya looked away, jaw tight. “You wanna know why I lost it when I saw those hickeys?”

Touya’s voice was low, strained, but steady, like he’d been holding it back too long and it was finally spilling through the cracks.

“It wasn’t just because you looked marked up. It was because someone else did it. Someone else got to have their mouth on you. Someone else got to pull those sounds out of you. Someone else got to touch you and leave proof.”

His lip curled. Not in a smirk, but in something more bitter. Ugly. “And I fucking hated it.”

He took a breath, yet it wasn’t steady, it was sharp, ragged, like saying it out loud made it real and he wasn’t ready for the weight of it.

“I don’t do this... wanting shit. I don’t sit around pining, Keigo. But you- god, you crawl under my skin and stay there. I can’t stand looking at you half the time, but I hate the idea of anyone else having you more.”

He dragged a hand down his face, laughed once without humor. “I was jealous. That’s it. That’s the whole ugly truth. I saw those marks, and all I could think was, it should’ve been me.”

Hawks leaned into his touch, just slightly. “You have a shit way of showing it.”

“Yeah,” Touya muttered. “I know.”

Another beat passed, then Hawks reached up and took Touya’s wrist. Didn’t push it away, just held it there, against his cheek, soft and warm.

“You wanted to be the one who touched me first?” he asked, voice low.

“I wanted to be the only one.”

Hawks smiled, just a little. “Then stop acting like I’m disposable.”

Touya stared at him for a moment before he lent in, lips brushing over Hawks’ mouth, soft as smoke. It was a soft kiss, no hunger behind it. And for the first time since they started whatever the hell this was, Keigo kissed him back softly.

Chapter Text

The rest of the day after that went past in a blur, and Touya was back at his place sooner than he’d expected.

Touya’s apartment was dark when he stepped inside. Not just lights-off dark, but the kind that felt thick in the air, stale from being empty too long. He didn’t bother flicking the switch. He could navigate this place blind. Drop jacket on the couch, kick boots off in the vague direction of the wall, dump phone and keys on the counter like they offended him.

The quiet settled heavy, the way it always did after a long day of pretending he didn’t care about things he actually did.

His mind kept circling the same loop it had been stuck on since that storage room, the heat of Hawks’ skin under his hands, the sound of his voice when he admitted he couldn’t get Touya out of his head, the look in his eyes when Touya told him he wanted to be the only one.

That kiss. It was… soft. Not like him. Not like them.

Touya dropped onto the couch, rubbing a hand over his face. He should sleep, or eat, or at least shower off the smell of the Commission’s sterilized citrus hellscape. Instead, he sat there, staring at the faint city glow through his window.

His phone buzzed against the counter and he thought about ignoring it, since statistically, it was either a Commission update or some group chat bullshit from another hero, but the part of him that already knew who it was made him get up anyway.

Sure enough there was the message from exactly who he knew it would be.

——
featherfuck (7:19 PM):
u home yet hot stuff?

——

Touya snorted, thumb hovering over the keyboard. He had no idea how he was supposed to message Keigo now. Maybe tell him to stop texting like they were… whatever they were now. But instead, he typed out a single word.

——
Touya (7:19 PM):
Yeah.

——

Three dots appeared almost immediately.
——
featherfuck (7:20 PM):
no "fuck off"?
ur losing your touch

Touya (7:20 PM):
Don’t get used to it.

——

There was another buzz before he could even set the phone down.

——
featherfuck (7:20 PM):
too late
already picturing you smiling at your phone rn

——

Touya scoffed out loud. “Idiot.” His thumbs moved before his brain could veto it.

——
Touya (7:20 PM):
I’m picturing hitting you with my phone actually.

featherfuck (7:21 PM):
romantic

——

Touya leaned back against the counter, staring at the name at the top of the screen. Featherfuck. It didn’t fit now. Or maybe it did, maybe it always would, but something about leaving it there felt wrong. Like wearing a shirt that didn’t quite fit anymore.

He tapped into the contact, thumb hesitating. Then he erased it and typed out ‘Keigo’. Simple. Still his. And yeah, maybe it was a little too personal, but that was the point.

A second later another message came through.

——
Keigo (7:22 PM):
u changed my name?

——

Touya froze, then cursed. He forgot his phone was a fucking snitch.

——
Touya (7:22 PM):
Maybe.

Keigo (7:22 PM):
to what

Touya (7:22 PM):
Not telling.

Keigo (7:22 PM):
then i’m gonna assume it’s "hottest hero ever"

Touya (7:23 PM):
It’s not.

Keigo (7:23 PM):
"mine" then?

——

Touya stared at that one longer than he should’ve.

——
Touya (7:24 PM):
Definitely not.

Keigo (7:24 PM):
yet

——

The worst part was how Touya could hear his voice in that word. Lazy, smug, self-assured, but softer underneath, like he wasn’t just throwing it out to get a rise. He dropped onto the couch again, phone balanced on his knee.

——
Touya (7:25 PM):
We need to talk about this.

Keigo (7:25 PM):
abt what?
the part where u shoved me into a closet and sucked marks into my neck until u eventually confessed u no longer hate me?
or the part where u kissed me soft like u actually meant it?

——

Touya’s jaw tightened.

——
Touya (7:26 PM):
About what we are.
Or aren’t.

——

The dots blinked for a long time this time until a reply finally came through.

——
Keigo (7:27 PM):
u tell me
ur the one who got all territorial like we’ve been married for ten years

Touya (7:27 PM):
You didn’t exactly fight me off.

Keigo (7:27 PM):
yh no shit.
u think i’ve been putting up with ur bullshit because i don’t want u?

——

Touya’s throat went tight.

——
Touya (7:28 PM):
So what, we’re just?
together now?

Keigo (7:28 PM):
if that’s what u want

Touya (7:28 PM):
And if I don’t?

Keigo (7:28 PM):
then i’ll pretend i never said it
but i think u do want it

——

Touya stared at the screen until the letters blurred. He hated that Keigo could read him like this, hated it almost as much as he hated how right he was.

——

Touya (7:28 PM):
I want it.

Keigo (7:29 PM):
then there’s ur answer

——

It should’ve been simple after that, but Touya’s fingers were already typing before he thought better of it.

——
Touya (7:29 PM):
No one can know.

Keigo (7:29 PM):
obviously

Touya (7:30 PM):
I’m serious. If anyone finds out, we’ll never hear the end of it.

Keigo (7:30 PM):
what, u don’t wanna give rumi more things to make fun of us for?

Touya (7:30 PM):
I don’t want anyone thinking we’re soft.

Keigo (7:31 PM):
pretty sure dragging me into a closet and biting me like i owed you money isn’t "soft."

Touya (7:31 PM):
You know what I mean.

Keigo (7:31 PM):
yh
we keep it between us
no PDA at work, no holding hands on patrol, no making heart eyes in meetings

——

Touya snorted.

——
Touya (7:32 PM):
Like I’ve ever made heart eyes at you.

Keigo (7:32 PM):
keep telling yourself that babe

——

Touya glared at the phone, which was ridiculous because the phone didn’t deserve it.

——
Touya (7:32 PM):
Don’t call me that.

Keigo (7:33 PM):
sure thing babe

——

He was half a second from chucking the thing across the room when another message popped up.

——
Keigo (7:33 PM):
u still thinking about earlier?

——

Touya’s stomach did something traitorous.

——
Touya (7:34 PM):
No.

Keigo (7:34 PM):
liar

Touya (7:34 PM):
Go to sleep.

Keigo (7:34 PM):
cant
too wired
u should come over

——

Touya stared at the wall. His apartment was quiet. Keigo’s wouldn’t be. It would be warm and loud and messy, like him.

——

Touya (7:35 PM):
Not tonight.

Keigo (7:35 PM):
tomorrow then

Touya (7:35 PM):
We have patrol at 8.

Keigo (7:35 PM):
perfect
come over after
i’ll make breakfast :)

Touya (7:36 PM):
You can’t cook.

Keigo (7:36 PM):
exactly
that’s what makes it more fun
u can help me anyways

——

Touya huffed, but didn’t answer right away. His fingers drummed against the couch. He hated how easily Keigo got under his skin, hated even more how much he wanted to give in.

——

Touya (7:36 PM):
We’ll see.

Keigo (7:36 PM):
translation: yes

Touya (7:36 PM):
Translation: shut up.

——

There was a pause this time.

——
Keigo (7:37 PM):
goodnight Touya

——

Not hot stuff, not babe, just his name. Touya set the phone face down on the couch beside him, staring at the ceiling. The city hum was faint through the walls. His chest felt too full, like maybe the storage room hadn’t been the climax of something but the start. And for once, he didn’t hate it.

Chapter Text

The knock was too light to be a neighbor, too casual to be anyone official. Touya rolled over in bed, arm dragging over his face. The faint morning light bleeding through his curtains was far too blinding for being there this early.

He ignored the first knock, but the second knock was louder, more impatient.

Groaning, he swung his legs out of bed, feeling the cool floor under his feet as he trudged to the door. He didn’t need to check the peephole, he already had a guess as to who it was. No one else had the nerve to be here at this hour.

When he opened the door, Keigo stood there with his usual irritating slouch, sunglasses already in place, a smug half-smile on his face that made Touya want to slam the door again.

“What?” Touya asked flatly.

Keigo tipped his head toward the street. “Patrol. Remember?”

“It’s not for another hour.”

“Yeah, but I figured we could walk together. You know, bonding.”

Touya stared at him. “It’s too early.”

Keigo’s smile widened like Touya had just given him the perfect setup for some private joke. “You’re so warm in the mornings, Touya. Really sets the tone for the day.”

Touya stepped back, leaving the door open just enough for him to slip inside if he wanted. “You’re either freezing your wings off out there or you’re here to annoy me. Which is it?”

Keigo stepped in without invitation, feathers brushing the frame as he passed. “Little of both.”

He glanced around like he was cataloging the place, not in that nosy, invasive way, but in the careful, almost hesitant way of someone stepping into unfamiliar territory. It was the first time he’d been here, after all.

Touya grabbed his jacket from the couch and shrugged it on. “You didn’t have to come here. We could’ve met at the usual spot.”

Keigo leaned against the wall near the window, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. His eyes, bright and lazy, drifted over Touya with an ease that felt far too intimate for how casual he was pretending to be.

“Maybe I wanted to see where the great Phoenix lives,” he said lightly. “Get a sense of the nest.”

Touya rolled his eyes, heading toward the kitchen to grab his gloves. “Don’t call it that.”

“Why? You don’t like the bird theme? That’s our thing.”

“That’s your thing,” Touya muttered.

Keigo didn’t follow him into the kitchen. Instead, he stayed planted where he was, giving the room a quick once-over before his attention settled back on Touya. When Touya turned, Keigo was still watching him, and for a moment the banter faded.

“Morning,” Keigo said quietly, almost like an afterthought.

Touya blinked. “You already said-”

“No. I mean… morning.”

It wasn’t much, but Touya knew what he meant. After last night’s messages, after deciding to keep things quiet, after everything, there was a softness tucked inside those two syllables.
He hesitated before grunting in acknowledgment and brushed past him toward the door. “Let’s go.”

The streets were already buzzing when they stepped outside. A couple of shopkeepers were setting up displays, and a group of school kids hurried past, one of them pointing excitedly when they recognized the heroes.

“Look! It’s Phoenix and Hawks!”

“Why are they together? I thought they hated each other.”

Keigo’s smirk returned instantly. “Kid’s observant.”

Touya gave him a sharp look that could’ve melted metal. “We still do,” he said loud enough for the group to hear.

Keigo laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. “You wound me, partner.”

They set off down the street, the crowd’s chatter fading behind them. The city was waking up fully now, cars filling the main roads, the occasional shout or whistle breaking through the hum of traffic.

They kept their pace steady, not too fast, not too slow, scanning for trouble. Every so often Keigo would say something under his breath just loud enough for Touya to hear, and Touya would shoot back some biting reply that made bystanders glance at them like they were watching some strange public fight.

“Careful,” Keigo said at one point, leaning in slightly as they crossed the street. “Your glare’s slipping. People might think you tolerate me.”

Touya didn’t look at him. “Only thing slipping is my patience.”

“Hot and cold all at once. It’s like dating an air conditioner.”

Touya shot him a sidelong glare. Keigo grinned, the curve of his mouth betraying the fact that this was less about playing for the crowd and more about winding Touya up for his own amusement.

The first half hour of patrol was uneventful. They stopped a man from shoplifting a convenience store, Keigo pinned him with a feather before Touya even reached the doorway, earning a grumble about “showing off.” Then they helped redirect traffic after a delivery truck stalled in the middle of an intersection.

Touya didn’t miss the way Keigo lingered close whenever the street got crowded, like some instinct kept him positioned between Touya and the nearest threat. He didn’t say anything about it (he wouldn’t, not in public) but he noticed.

At one point, as they passed a bakery, Keigo slowed down and glanced through the window. “Smells good,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only Touya caught it.

Touya didn’t respond.

A second later, Keigo added, “You eat breakfast?”

“I’m not a child. I don’t need you asking.”

“That’s a no, then.”

Touya kept walking, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

By the time they reached the riverfront, the sun was higher, glinting off the water. Patrol routes were quieter here, less foot traffic, more open space. It gave them a moment to breathe without a constant audience.

Keigo walked ahead a few steps, wings shifting with the breeze. “You know,” he said over his shoulder, “you could at least pretend to enjoy my company.”

“I do. When you’re not talking.”

Keigo laughed, stopping to lean against the railing overlooking the water. “Harsh. But fair.”

They stood there for a minute, scanning the opposite bank. A jogger passed, giving them both a nod, and Keigo straightened, falling back into step beside him. The banter was easier here, less sharp-edged. Maybe because there weren’t as many eyes on them, or maybe because the memory of last night still hung between them, shifting the air in small ways.

Keigo caught his gaze once, quick and fleeting, before looking away like nothing had happened. Touya didn’t comment on it.

They turned back toward the busier part of the route, moving into the mid-morning rush. Vendors were calling out prices, bikes weaved through pedestrians, and somewhere a street performer was singing. The noise gave them cover to keep up the act.

Keigo gestured toward a commotion up ahead, two men arguing outside a corner store. “Bet you fifty yen the one in blue gets the first punch in.”

Touya snorted. “You think I’m gonna take your money?”

“Yeah, actually, I do think you would,” Keigo shot back.

The argument fizzled out before they even reached it, the men retreating in opposite directions. Keigo sighed dramatically. “And here I was hoping for some action.”

Touya gave him a dry look. “Be careful what you wish for.”

They crossed into another street, and Touya could feel the shift in the crowd again, people noticing them, whispering. He didn’t need to hear the words to know what they were saying. Phoenix and Hawks. Oil and water. Why were they working together on patrol?

Keigo played it up, of course, dropping sarcastic comments, making a show of rolling his eyes at whatever Touya said. Touya matched his energy, tossing back barbs sharp enough to make the act believable.

But underneath it all, their pace stayed in sync. Keigo’s feathers still drifted subtly near him whenever the crowd got too close. And Touya still caught himself tracking Keigo’s position without thinking.

They cut through a narrower street, the kind of back route that connected two of the busier areas of the district. Touya preferred it since it was easier to keep an eye on things without dodging half the city’s population. Keigo didn’t complain, though his wings had to fold tighter to fit between the buildings.

“Feels like you’re dragging me into a trap,” Keigo murmured, eyes flicking over the brick walls and shadowed corners.

“Maybe I am.”

Keigo smirked. “That’s cute. You think you could take me.”

Touya glanced at him, deadpan. “I know I could.”

Keigo’s feathers twitched, like they wanted to flare but were keeping still. “Careful, people might hear you flirting.”

“Shut up.”

The last stretch of patrol was quiet. They stopped once to help a lost kid find his mom, and again when a drunk staggered into the road. The usual low-level hero work, nothing spectacular, nothing headline-worthy.

It wasn’t until they were looping back toward their starting point that Touya noticed Keigo slowing. His head tilted just slightly, like he’d caught something on the edge of his hearing.

“Trouble?” Touya asked.

Keigo nodded toward a narrow gap between two buildings, a shortcut that spilled into a different block. “Heard something. Could be nothing.”

They slipped in without another word, the noise of the main street fading behind them. The alley was narrow and shadowed, lined with fire escapes and dumpsters. The air smelled faintly of damp brick and yesterday’s rain.

Once they were far enough from the crowd, Keigo stopped. His hand brushed against Touya’s briefly, just a ghost of contact, before he stepped in closer.

“Miss me?” Keigo’s voice was low now, none of the public bite in it.

Touya gave him a flat look, but it lacked its usual heat. “We’ve been with each other all day.”

“Yeah, but that was in front of an audience.”

For a moment, they just stood there in the half-shadow, the city’s noise reduced to a distant hum. Keigo’s wings shifted lazily behind him, and Touya could feel the warmth radiating off him in the cool alley air.

Keigo tilted his head, studying him. “You’re not glaring for once. That’s different. I like it.”

Touya’s mouth twitched. “Don’t get used to it.”

Keigo reached towards him, brushing his thumb along the seam of Touya’s glove where it met his wrist. The touch was brief, almost hesitant, but it carried more weight than the casual words they’d been trading all morning.

“You were quieter today,” Keigo said.

“Maybe I wasn’t, and you just talked more than usual.”

“Mm, maybe. Or maybe you’re thinking too much.”

Touya didn’t answer, but he didn’t pull away either. Keigo’s eyes softened, losing that sharp edge he always wore in public.

“We don’t have to figure it all out right now,” Keigo murmured. “We just… show up. Yeah?”

Touya huffed a quiet breath, somewhere between agreement and irritation at how easily Keigo could read him. “Yeah.”

They stayed there another few seconds, the moment stretching, before Keigo finally stepped back. His wings shifted again, the public mask slipping back into place with practiced ease.

“Come on,” he said lightly. “We’ve got criminals to catch.”

The rest of patrol passed without incident, though the air between them was warmer now, an undercurrent of something just for them beneath the act they kept up.

By the time they clocked out, the afternoon was settling in, the sunlight angled low between the buildings.
Touya expected Keigo to peel off, head home, do whatever it was he did when he wasn’t working. Instead, he kept pace beside him.

“You inviting me in this time, or do I have to stand outside like a stalker again?” Keigo asked as they reached Touya’s building.

Touya unlocked the door without looking at him. “Don’t make it sound like you mind.”

Inside, it was quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. Keigo shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of the couch, wings folding neatly.
It felt strange having him here without the noise of patrol or the eyes of the public. The room seemed smaller somehow, or maybe that was just the shift in atmosphere.

Touya dropped his gloves on the counter. “You want something to drink?”

Keigo’s smile was faint, almost sheepish. “Water’s fine.”

When Touya handed it over, Keigo’s fingers brushed his. It wasn’t intentional (or maybe it was) but Touya didn’t pull back right away.

They ended up on the couch, sitting close enough that their shoulders almost touched. The awkwardness was new, not the sharp discomfort of dislike, but the careful kind that came with unfamiliar territory.

Keigo leaned back, letting his wings settle against the cushions. “Feels different without an audience, huh?”

Touya glanced at him. “Different how?”

Keigo shrugged. “Quieter. Softer. Like you’re letting me see the in-between parts.”

Touya snorted, looking away. “You’re reading too much into it.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m right.”

For a while, they just sat there. The city noise drifted in faintly through the window, but it felt far away. Keigo stretched one leg out, his knee brushing Touya’s.

“You know,” Keigo said, voice low, “I don’t hate this.”

Touya didn’t look at him, but the corner of his mouth twitched again. “Don’t get used to it.”

Keigo’s quiet laugh filled the space between them, and for the first time all day, Touya didn’t feel like he needed to bite back a reply.

The hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen felt louder than it did a few minutes ago, like it was trying to fill the space between them. Keigo leaned back against the couch with a lazy ease that Touya didn’t buy for a second since he could feel the tension under it, the way his wing feathers shifted in tiny, restless movements.

“You’re staring,” Keigo murmured without looking over.

Touya’s jaw flexed. “You want me to stop?”

A slow smirk curved Keigo’s mouth. “Didn’t say that.”

They both stayed still for a few heartbeats, the air thick between them, the silence just a little too loaded to be comfortable. Keigo’s gaze finally slid over to meet his, golden eyes glinting in the low light from the window.

“You’re doing that thing,” Keigo said, voice quieter now, “where you look like you’re about to bite someone’s head off, but you’re not actually mad.”

Touya tilted his head. “What makes you so sure i’m not mad?”

Keigo’s smirk didn’t fade. “Because last time you looked at me like that, I didn’t end up being threatened.”

Touya didn’t answer, but he shifted towards Keigo slightly, closing the space between them. Keigo’s smirk faltered a fraction when Touya’s hand came up to grip the side of the couch, right beside Keigo’s head.

“You talk too much,” Touya said lowly.

Keigo’s voice was light, but it had an edge of anticipation. “Maybe I’m just giving you something to work with.”

Touya’s other hand caught the edge of Keigo’s jaw, tilting his face up. The smirk was still there, but softer now, not a challenge, more like an invitation. Touya didn’t waste time closing the gap.

The kiss was sharp at first, almost rough. Keigo let out a faint hum against his mouth, his head tipping back as Touya pressed in, taking control without hesitation. Touya’s fingers slid into his hair, holding him in place as he deepened the kiss, ignoring the faint sound of Keigo’s wings brushing the couch.

Keigo’s hand lifted, fingers brushing the side of Touya’s neck like he wanted to guide the pace, but Touya caught his wrist, pushing it lightly back down against the cushions.

“Stay still,” Touya muttered against his mouth.

Keigo’s laugh was breathless. “Bossy.”

Touya kissed him again, harder this time, swallowing the sound. Keigo didn’t fight him, he leaned into it, mouth parting under Touya’s with a sound that made something in Touya’s chest pull tight.

When Touya finally pulled back, it was only to drag his mouth lower, along the sharp line of Keigo’s jaw. Keigo’s breath hitched when he reached the side of his neck, where the collar of his shirt dipped just enough to show the clusters of dark marks from the day before.

Touya’s lips curved against his skin. “Still there.”

Keigo’s voice was low, a little rougher now. “Yeah, well… you were thorough.”

“Not thorough enough.” Touya’s tone was quiet but deliberate, and then his mouth was his neck again, tongue and teeth working together until the skin warmed under his touch. Keigo’s hand flexed against the couch, his wings shifting like they couldn’t decide whether to flare or tuck tight.

Touya didn’t stop at one. He worked his way lower, leaving a second, darker mark just above the hollow of Keigo’s collarbone, tugging the tall collar of his uniform down to reach more skin. Keigo exhaled sharply, the sound half a laugh, half something else.

“You’re gonna make patrol tomorrow real interesting,” Keigo murmured, but his voice wasn’t teasing so much as unsteady.

“Good.” Touya pulled back enough to see his work, the faint red and purple marks standing out against Keigo’s skin. There was a possessive satisfaction in it, the kind he didn’t bother hiding.

Keigo’s eyes met his, pupils darker now, and for a moment neither of them moved. Then Keigo reached up again, fingers curling in the front of Touya’s shirt to tug him back in. Touya didn’t resist.

The kiss that followed was slower, but still firm, Touya setting the pace, Keigo following without complaint. Their breaths mingled, the couch dipping slightly under their combined weight. Touya’s knee pressed against Keigo’s thigh, just enough to keep him anchored where he was.

When they finally broke apart, Keigo’s breathing was uneven, his sunglasses long since abandoned somewhere on the couch. His feathers had ruffled without him noticing, giving him a slightly disheveled look that Touya couldn’t help lingering on.

“You done leaving marks on my neck?” Keigo asked, though there was no real challenge in it, just a quiet acknowledgment that Touya had gotten what he wanted.

“Not really,” Touya said, leaning back slightly but not moving away completely. “But you look like you’re about to ask for more.”

Keigo laughed, the sound softer than usual. “Oh, I want to. Don’t think you’ve left any unmarked areas, though.”

They stayed close for another long moment, neither rushing to fill the silence. Eventually, Keigo shifted sideways on the couch, stretching his legs out and patting the cushion beside him in mock invitation.

Touya raised a brow. “What, you want me to sit with you now?”

“You did earlier,” Keigo said, his tone just a little too casual. “You know. Just… stay.”

Touya didn’t move immediately. The idea of it, of leaning into that closeness without the excuse of kissing or banter, felt oddly more dangerous than what they’d just been doing. But Keigo was looking at him with that same steady, open gaze, and in the end, Touya stepped forward, settling onto the couch beside him.

Keigo shifted again, making space for Touya to lean back, and before either of them could overthink it, they’d ended up with Touya’s arm draped loosely over Keigo’s shoulders. Keigo didn’t hesitate to settle in, his head finding a spot against Touya’s chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“This is gonna ruin my reputation,” Keigo murmured, voice muffled slightly.

“Good,” Touya said again, this time without the bite.

Keigo’s feathers rustled once, then went still. His breathing evened out, the warmth of him seeping into Touya’s side. Touya stared at the far wall for a while, letting the quiet settle in, the weight of Keigo against him grounding in a way he didn’t want to think too hard about.

Neither of them moved. Not for a long time.

Chapter Text

The first thing Touya became aware of was the weight across his chest. The second was the faint tickle of hair against his jaw.

His eyes cracked open, vision hazy in the pale light spilling through the blinds. It took him a second to register that he was still on the couch, and that Keigo was still there.

Keigo was sprawled half on top of him, wings slack and feathers scattered across the cushions, one arm draped comfortably across Touya’s ribs. His breathing was steady, the kind that meant he’d been asleep for hours.

Touya blinked, the last fragments of the night before coming back to him, the kissing, the hickeys, the slow slide into quiet that had ended with Keigo resting against him. Neither of them had moved after that, apparently.

He considered pushing Keigo off, if only to avoid thinking about how easy it had been to just… stay like that. But before he could decide, Keigo stirred, a low sound rumbling in his throat as his eyes fluttered open.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the morning silence pressing in around them.

“…Morning,” Keigo said, voice still rough from sleep.

Touya grunted in return, though his gaze flicked over the faint marks he’d left along Keigo’s throat. Keigo noticed where he was looking and smirked. “You really went for it last night.”

Touya opened his mouth to reply, but that was when the pounding on the door shattered the quiet. It wasn’t just a light knock, it was heavy, deliberate.

They both froze.

“You expecting someone?” Keigo whispered.

“No,” Touya said flatly.

The pounding came again.

Keigo’s brow furrowed. “You sure it’s not-”

Before he could finish, a familiar voice cut through the door. “Touya. Answer the door.”

Touya’s stomach dropped.

Keigo’s eyes widened. “Is that-”

“Yeah. Fuck.”

“Since when does he just show up?”

“Never.” Touya pushed him off and stood, running a hand through his hair. “Go hide.”

Keigo blinked. “What am I, a teenager sneaking out the window?”

“Do you want him to see you here?” Touya hissed.

That got him moving. Keigo shot him a look that was equal parts reluctant and amused before heading down the short hall toward Touya’s bedroom. His wings barely fit through the doorway without knocking something over.

The pounding on the door came again.

“Yeah, I’m coming!” Touya shouted, scrubbing the last traces of sleep from his face as he crossed to the door.

When he opened it, Enji Todoroki was standing there, tall as ever, hands at his sides instead of crossed, which was strange enough on its own. His gaze swept over Touya briefly before he spoke. “You weren’t answering your phone.”

Touya leaned against the frame. “I was asleep.”

“It’s almost nine.”

“Congratulations, you can tell time.”

Enji didn’t rise to the bait, which was also unusual. “Can I come in?”

Touya’s first instinct was to say no. But something about Enji’s tone, which was calm for once, and strangely not demanding, made him step aside instead. “Fine. Don’t touch anything.”

Enji stepped inside, glancing briefly around the apartment like he was mapping it out, though his eyes didn’t linger on anything for long. Touya shut the door, listening for any sound from the bedroom. Nothing.

They ended up sitting on opposite ends of the couch. Touya slouched back, arms crossed, while Enji rested his forearms on his knees, leaning forward slightly.

“I wanted to check in,” Enji said after a pause.

Touya snorted. “What, you’re doing surprise visits now? That your new thing?”

“No,” Enji said simply. “But you’ve been… busier. I haven’t seen you much outside of meetings. Other than when you came over dinner last week.”

“That’s because I’ve been working.”

Enji nodded once, accepting that without comment. “How’s the patrol rotation? With Hawks.”

Touya’s mouth twitched at the name, but he kept his tone even. “Fine.”

“You two are… getting along?”

Touya almost laughed. “We’re tolerating each other. That’s as good as it gets.”

Enji’s gaze lingered, like he was weighing the truth of that, but he didn’t push. “He’s a skilled hero. Different style from you, but effective.”

Touya gave him a dry look. “You here to give me his résumé?”

“I’m here to make sure this pairing isn’t interfering with how you’re working.”

“It’s not.” Touya’s voice was clipped, but he didn’t look away. “We get the job done.”

Another pause. Enji’s expression was unreadable, but there was less weight in it than Touya was used to, less of that constant pressure he’d grown up under.

“You’re doing well,” Enji said finally.

Touya blinked. “What?”

“Your numbers are good. Response time, public reception… all of it. You’ve been consistent.”

The compliment sat between them like an unwelcome guest. Touya didn’t respond right away, unsure if it was genuine or just another angle.

“Great,” he said finally. “You done?”

Enji’s eyes narrowed slightly, but not in anger, more like he was holding something back. “Not yet.” He leaned back slightly, arms settling on his thighs. “There’s an event coming up in two days. Hero gala. I want you to attend.”

Touya groaned. “Ugh. I’ll pass.”

“It’s important for visibility.”

“Visibility’s fine. You said it yourself.”

“This is different.” Enji’s tone had softened, but it still carried that immovable weight. “It’s not about the public, it’s about the network. Opportunities.”

“I’m not interested in networking,” Touya said, standing.

Enji didn’t rise. “You don’t have to decide now. Just think about it.”

Touya didn’t answer. He moved to the kitchen under the excuse of grabbing a glass of water, though really it was just to give himself a moment. From the corner of his eye, he saw Enji glance toward the hallway. That same hallway Keigo had disappeared down.

“You have someone here?” Enji asked.

Touya didn’t flinch. “No.”

Enji didn’t press, though his gaze lingered for a moment longer before he looked away.

When Touya returned to the couch, Enji stood. “I won’t keep you.”

“You already did,” Touya muttered, but it lacked its usual venom.

Enji paused at the door, looking back at him. “I’ll see you at the end-of-week meeting.”

“Yeah.” Touya leaned against the frame again as Enji stepped out, closing the door behind him.

For a moment, the apartment was completely still. Then, from down the hall, the bedroom door eased open.
Keigo’s head poked out, hair mussed, eyes a little too bright with suppressed laughter. “That was close.”

Touya sighed, running a hand over his face. “You’re making breakfast.”

Keigo grinned. “Deal.”

But Touya could still feel the tension lingering under his skin, the echo of Enji’s presence in the small space and the weight of the fact that, for the first time, it had almost overlapped with this. With them.

Keigo padded into the kitchen barefoot, wings brushing the doorway as he came in. He hadn’t changed whilst he was in Touya’s room, and was still in yesterday’s clothes, rumpled and a little crooked from sleeping on the couch, but his grin was bright like nothing about Enji’s surprise visit had rattled him.

“You got eggs?” he asked, heading straight for the fridge like he owned the place.

Touya leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “You’re actually gonna cook?”

“I’ll cook, you’ll criticize, and we’ll both eat. Sounds about right.” Keigo pulled a carton of eggs and some bread from the cupboard, setting them down with the easy familiarity of someone who had no problem making himself at home.

Touya didn’t stop him, though he watched every move like he was making sure Keigo didn’t burn the place down. “What if I wanted something else?”

Keigo glanced over his shoulder, one brow raised. “Then you shouldn’t have said that I was the one making breakfast.”

Touya grunted but didn’t argue. He busied himself with getting plates and cups down, letting Keigo handle the stove. The smell of butter and toasting bread filled the air, warm and heavy in the small kitchen.

After a few minutes, Keigo broke the silence. “So, hero gala in two days.”

Touya’s head snapped up. “You already knew or did you listen in on my conversation?”

Keigo smirked, cracking an egg into the pan. “Both. But of course I knew. I keep up with all that stuff. Comes with the job.”

“I’m not going.”

“Yeah, you are.”

Touya frowned. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” Keigo said lightly, flipping the egg without looking at it. “Because it’s basically mandatory for top ten heroes unless you’re on medical leave or you’ve got an actual emergency. And even then, some people still show up with broken bones.”

“I don’t do galas.”

Keigo set the spatula down, leaning one hip against the counter. “You did the Commission charity dinner last year.”

“That wasn’t a gala.”

“It was worse than a gala.” Keigo’s grin widened at Touya’s scowl. “Look, it’s a couple hours of pretending to like people, shaking hands, letting reporters take pictures. You’ll survive.”

Touya poured himself some coffee, ignoring the hopeful tone in Keigo’s voice. “You sound way too excited about this.”

“Because,” Keigo said, sliding eggs onto a plate, “I clean up nice, and I like watching people’s faces when they realize we’re both in the same room without fighting.”

“We will be fighting.”

“Obviously. Can’t have them
thinking we actually like each other,” Keigo laughed, carrying both plates to the table.

They sat across from each other, the clink of forks against plates filling the quiet for a moment. Keigo dug in with his usual enthusiasm, while Touya ate slower, still thinking about Enji’s visit.

“You gonna go because he asked?” Keigo asked after a while, tilting his head.

Touya shook his head. “If I go, it’s not for him.”

Keigo smiled like he knew exactly what Touya meant and didn’t need to push for more. “Fair enough. I’ll make sure we get seated somewhere good.”

“You’re still assuming I’m going.”

“You’re assuming that you’re not.” Keigo leaned forward slightly, his wings giving a little rustle as they shifted around the back of his chair. “Just admit it, you’re at least considering it now that I’m going to be there.”

Touya gave him a look. “You think too highly of yourself.”

“And you think too much, end of.”

They fell into an easier silence then, the kind where the words didn’t need to fill every space. Keigo finished first, but instead of getting up, he propped his chin on his hand and watched Touya eat like he had nowhere else to be.

Touya raised a brow. “What?”

“Nothing. Just like looking at you when you’re not glaring at me.”

Touya set his fork down. “You’re acting more flirty in the mornings.”

Keigo grinned. “Yeah, but you like me better this way anyway, don’t you?”

“Keep talking and I’ll kick you out of my apartment.”

Keigo didn’t move, didn’t even try to tone it down. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out under the table until his leg bumped Touya’s. When Touya didn’t immediately kick him away, Keigo took that as permission to keep his leg there.

“You ever been to one of these galas and actually enjoyed yourself?” Touya asked suddenly.

Keigo tilted his head, thinking. “Once. Couple years back. Good food, decent music, and I left with a pretty great souvenir.”

Touya narrowed his eyes. “What kind of souvenir?”

Keigo’s smirk turned just a little smug. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Touya shook his head, but the faintest twitch of his mouth betrayed him. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” Keigo said, stretching again until his leg pressed a little firmer against Touya. “But you like me anyway.”

Touya didn’t confirm it, but he didn’t push Keigo away either.

When they finished eating, Keigo stood and started clearing the plates without being asked, humming some half-formed tune under his breath. His wings brushed the cabinets when he reached up to put things away, and every now and then, he glanced over his shoulder like he was checking to make sure Touya was still there.

Touya leaned back in his chair, watching him move around the kitchen like it was his own. He wasn’t sure if it annoyed him or if he was getting used to it, both possibilities irritated him in different ways.

When Keigo finally sat back down, he didn’t bother with the chair. He perched on the edge of the table instead, one knee brushing Touya’s arm.

“You should come to the gala,” he said, softer this time. “It’s easier with someone you know there. Even if we have to pretend to hate each other.”

Touya met his gaze, and for once, didn’t look away right away. “…We’ll see.”

Keigo grinned, satisfied. “That’s basically a yes in your way of speaking.”

Touya rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Keigo took that as a win, leaning down just enough for his feathers to graze Touya’s shoulder before hopping off the table again and heading for Touya’s couch. Touya waited for a moment before getting up and following him.

The light in Touya’s apartment was softer now, the morning slowly giving way to a clearer afternoon. Keigo had sprawled himself across the couch in his usual casual way, wings splayed just enough to brush against the cushions, while Touya sat opposite, arms crossed, pretending not to be paying attention.

“So, patrol today,” Keigo said, twirling a pen idly in his fingers.

Touya snorted. “Unless you’re going to fight crime from that couch, yeah. We’ve got patrol.”

“Yeah… about that,” Keigo said, sitting up and leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin. “I was thinking… maybe we don’t have to go today.”

Touya’s head snapped up. “…Excuse me?”

Keigo shrugged, still grinning. “I mean, think about it. We’ve been going hard for two weeks straight. Four patrols a week, plus missions. We’re both exhausted. We could use a day off. A real day off. Together.”

Touya tilted his head, suspicious. “Together? You mean so you can lounge while I stare at the ceiling?”

“No, I mean, together,” Keigo repeated, leaning closer. “We have to spend all these hours out there pretending to hate each other anyway. Doesn’t it make sense to have a day where we just… don’t?”

Touya blinked. “You’re suggesting we both call in sick?”

“Not just suggesting,” Keigo said, giving him a look that was half playful, half persuasive. “I’m basically ordering it. You’ll feel better, I’ll feel better, the world survives without our perfect hero duo for one day. We even get to… hang out, just us.”

Touya crossed his arms tighter. “I don’t just skip patrols. That’s not how it works.”

Keigo tilted his head and gave him a soft, coaxing smile. “Come on, Touya. You don’t have to say yes right away. But think about it, no uniforms, no villains, no fans breathing down our necks. Just… peace. And you get me.”

Touya’s jaw tightened. “…You make it sound way too good.”

“I am very good at making things sound good.” Keigo’s grin widened, wings ruffling slightly with the motion. “And I know you need this. Admit it, you’ve been tense lately.”

Touya huffed, but there was a slight softness in his shoulders. “…Maybe. But calling in sick? You’re pushing it a bit. Commission will be pissed if they find out we lied.”

Keigo’s eyes flicked toward him, sharp and earnest. “Trust me. I’ll take care of everything. We just stay in, eat something good, maybe watch some movies, talk… or not talk if you don’t feel like it. No one else needs to know.”

Touya stared at him, weighing it. His brain kept running through reasons why it was irresponsible, why they could get caught, why he shouldn’t just give in. But the thought of spending the day with Keigo, uninterrupted, without pretending… it was tempting. Dangerous, maybe. But tempting.

“…Fine,” he said finally, his voice tight but reluctant. “One day. Don’t think this makes you the boss of me.”

Keigo’s grin practically split his face. “Deal! One day. And yes, I get to be boss for the day.”

Touya rolled his eyes, but there was a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, and you love it,” Keigo replied, sliding off the couch to grab his phone.

Touya groaned but reached for his own phone, dialing the patrol office with a practiced hand. When he put on his professional, clipped tone, Keigo watched him like a hawk, wings braced against the back of the couch in anticipation.

“Morning, this is Phoenix. Todoroki Touya,” Touya said. “I’m not going to be on patrol today. Feeling… unwell.”

Keigo’s grin widened from beside him, and he gave a subtle thumbs-up. Touya ended the call, jaw tightening, trying not to smile.

Keigo didn’t even try to hide his glee when he picked up his own phone. “Hello, this is Hawks. Just… not feeling great today. Might’ve caught something. Probably best I sit this one out.” He stifled a laugh, clearly enjoying Touya’s stiff posture beside him.

When the call ended, Keigo turned to Touya, plopping back on the couch with an exaggerated sigh of relief. “And just like that, we’re free for the day.”

Touya leaned back, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling. “…You’re really enjoying this way too much.”

Keigo chuckled, stretching his wings. “Maybe I am. But come on, look at us. One day, no heroes, no patrols. Just you and me.”

Touya blinked, and Keigo leaned closer, resting his chin on his hand and giving him a teasing, almost smug look. “You’re agreeing, don’t deny it.”

Touya huffed, but there was no denying the small smile tugging at his lips. “…Fine. One day. But we don’t do anything weird.”

“Nothing weird,” Keigo agreed, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Just… hanging out. Relaxing. Maybe some breakfast-for-lunch. Definitely some terrible movies.”

Touya’s brow twitched. “Terrible movies?”

“You’ll survive. Trust me.”

For the next hour, they settled into a kind of comfortable chaos that only happened when the world outside didn’t matter. Keigo pulled snacks from the cabinets, teasing Touya about how grim his taste in food was. Touya grumbled back, but he didn’t stop himself from laughing when Keigo dumped a pile of chips onto the counter and insisted on making a “gourmet sandwich” with whatever leftovers were in the fridge.

“You know,” Keigo said, balancing a ridiculously tall sandwich on his plate, “we could spend the entire day just like this. No obligations, no pretending. Just… being together. Doesn’t that sound perfect?”

Touya leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “…It’s tolerable.”

“Tolerable?” Keigo raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d say ‘amazing.’”

“I’m being honest,” Touya said, though there was a faint redness creeping up his neck.

Keigo grinned, perching on the counter now, feet dangling lazily. “Honest’s good. But secretly, I know you’re enjoying it. Admit it, I don’t even have to try.”

Touya narrowed his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward despite himself. “…Maybe a little.”

Keigo’s wings shifted as he leaned down, nudging his shoulder lightly against Touya’s arm. “A little is better than nothing. I’ll take it.”

Touya shivered at the contact, though he tried to mask it with a cough. “…Don’t get used to it.”

“I already have,” Keigo said softly, his grin fading into something warmer. “But it’s okay. Today, I get to.”

Touya’s jaw tightened, but there was no argument. He knew exactly what Keigo meant, today, for once, it wasn’t about patrols or heroes or public perception. Today, it was just them.

After Keigo finished eating his sandwich, they settled into the living room, Touya reluctantly giving up the recliner to let Keigo sprawl across it comfortably. Touya perched on the edge of the couch, trying to ignore how natural it felt to have Keigo leaning against him, wings brushing his side.

“What do you want to do first?” Keigo asked, voice soft, almost conspiratorial.

Touya shrugged. “Don’t care. Movies? Reading? Sleeping?”

Keigo grinned, stretching one wing over Touya’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “All of it. And if I get bored, I’ll force you into watching the worst movie i can find.”

Touya froze mid-breath, eyes widening in mock horror. “…You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would. And you know it.” Keigo’s grin widened, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Touya smiled and let out a laugh that he covered up with a sigh. “Fine. But only if we’re doing something else first.”

Keigo’s head tilted, curiosity flashing. “Like what?”

Touya hesitated, the faintest blush creeping onto his cheeks. “…Just… sitting. Talking. Being stupid together. You know.”

Keigo laughed softly, leaning further into him. “I know exactly. And I love that idea. Today’s ours, remember?”

Touya huffed, trying to hide his growing smile. “…Yeah. Today’s ours.”

For the first time in weeks, the world outside didn’t matter. Patrols could wait. Villains could wait. Even Enji’s surprise visit seemed far away, like a distant memory. All that mattered was the quiet apartment, the soft warmth of Keigo’s wings brushing against him, and the rare, unguarded peace of a day spent entirely together.

Keigo shifted, resting his head against Touya’s shoulder with a small sigh. “You’re not complaining too much, are you?”

Touya paused, trying to gauge how much he could admit. “Not yet.”

Keigo grinned, brushing his fingers lightly against Touya’s arm. “Good. Because we’re going to spend the entire day like this, whether you like it or not.”

Touya groaned, hiding a smirk. “You really are impossible.”

“Yeah,” Keigo said softly, eyes glinting. “But you like it.”

Touya didn’t answer. Instead, he let himself lean back slightly, allowing the weight of the moment to settle. Keigo was warm, close, and insistent in the best way. And as much as he hated to admit it… he did like it.

Keigo’s grin widened when he felt Touya relax, one of his wings curling protectively around him. “Perfect. Now, let’s make the most of our day off. No distractions. Just us.”

Touya huffed, trying to keep his composure. “Fine. But I get to pick the first movie.”

“Deal,” Keigo said, already settling in more comfortably. “But after that, it’s my turn. And I warn you, I pick the weirdest stuff.”

Touya rolled his eyes, but for the first time in weeks, he let himself relax completely. Today, for once, was theirs. And Keigo’s mischievous smile said everything he needed to know: nothing else mattered.

Chapter Text

It had been two days since Enji had visited Touya.

The sky outside was already fading into that deep, winter-blue tone, the kind that made city lights start to glitter before the sun had even fully gone down. Touya sat slouched on his couch, one knee bent, hair a mess, phone balanced on his thigh as the faint sound of traffic drifted up from the streets below.

The hero gala was tonight. The kind of event he had avoided for years because the idea of being trapped in a massive, glittering room with Enji, half the hero commission, and every pretentious socialite in the city made his skin crawl.

He’d told himself all week he wasn’t going. Even after Enji had brought it up, even after Keigo had mentioned it with that casual tone that was way too practiced to actually be casual, Touya had been dead set on skipping it. He wasn’t there for appearances, he was there for hero work. And no one could make him spend an evening in a suit pretending to be impressed by people who didn’t matter to him.

But now it was three hours before the gala started, and he’d been staring at the ceiling for nearly an hour thinking about it. It wasn’t the event itself that had him wavering. It was the fact that Keigo was going to be there. Keigo, who would absolutely look infuriatingly good in a suit. Keigo, who would have people draped all over him for photo ops and polite conversation. Keigo, who would flash that charming smile at anyone who so much as looked his way.

Touya clicked his tongue and pushed the thought away, running a hand through his hair. Pathetic. He wasn’t the jealous type, except, apparently, when it came to Keigo. He hated that. He also hated how the idea of Keigo being surrounded by all those people made something tight curl in his chest.

The gala wasn’t just a party, it was where hero rankings were quietly discussed, deals made, faces remembered. It was a networking circus, and Keigo was born to thrive in it. Touya didn’t care about any of that, but part of him didn’t like the idea of Keigo being there without him. Not in the clingy, “don’t leave me” way, but in the way that made him want to keep an eye on him.

His gaze flicked toward the closet. He knew there was a suit in there. Still had the tags from the last time the commission tried to get him to go to one of these things. He’d told them to shove it back then, but right now…

He sighed and pushed himself up off the couch, rubbing at the back of his neck. He didn’t have to tell anyone he was going. Hell, he could just show up. If he got bored or pissed off he could just leave. But at least he’d see for himself what the big deal was.

That was what he told himself as he crossed to the closet and pulled the suit out. It was black, simple, the kind of thing that didn’t draw too much attention until you actually put it on and realized the tailoring was precise enough to make anyone look like they had their life together. He tossed it onto the bed and pulled out a crisp white shirt to go with it, tossing that next to it.

The shower was quick since Touya wasn’t the kind of person to stand there for half an hour, but he took enough time to make sure his hair didn’t look like he’d just rolled out of bed. By the time he was back in his bedroom, towel around his neck, the cold air from the open window made him shiver.

Half-dressed, shirt hanging open, he glanced at his phone buzzing on the nightstand. A message from Enji.

——

Enji (6:35 PM):
I assume you’re not going tonight.

——

Touya snorted, swiping it open.

——

Touya (6:35 PM):
Assume what you want.

——

The typing dots appeared, then vanished, then appeared again. Finally, another message came through.

——

Enji (6:35 PM):
It would be good for you to show your face. You’ve been working hard lately. People should see that.

——

He stared at it for a long second, lips pressing into a thin line. That almost sounded like… encouragement? He wasn’t sure he liked it. Still, he didn’t reply, tossing the phone onto the bed and pulling on his shirt. By the time he was buttoning it, the phone buzzed again, but this time it was Keigo.

——

Keigo (6:37 PM):
guess whos wearing the best suit you’ve ever seen

——

Touya rolled his eyes, thumbs hovering over the keyboard before he typed back.

——

Touya (6:37 PM):
Someone who likes attention too much?

——

It didn’t take long for the reply to come.

——

Keigo (6:38 PM):
you wound me
you should see me
i clean up real nice

——

He smirked faintly despite himself, fastening the last button on his shirt.

——

Touya (6:38 PM):
Not going to the gala.

——

There was a pause this time, longer than before, and when Keigo replied, the message felt like it had a raised eyebrow attached to it.

——

Keigo (6:39 PM):
shame
you’d like seeing me in this

——

Touya shook his head, slipping into the suit jacket. The material was smooth, almost too perfect on him. He grabbed his phone again, thumbs tapping out a reply he didn’t entirely think through.

——

Touya:
Maybe I will.

——

He didn’t send it. Not yet. Instead, he backed out of the message entirely and set the phone down, moving to adjust the jacket in the mirror. It fit better than he remembered. Sleek, sharp, made him look less like a man who avoided public appearances and more like someone who could walk into a room and own it. That wasn’t his intention, but he wasn’t going to complain.

The phone buzzed again.

——

Keigo (6:41 PM):
if you change your mind u know where I’ll be

——

Touya stared at that for a long moment before setting the phone face-down and running a hand through his hair. He debated styling it for once, but decided on leaving it as it was since Keigo liked it when his hair was messy.

His boots were polished enough from the last time he’d polished them for some important shit that they didn’t need much attention. He slid them on, flexing his shoulders once, testing the jacket’s fit. No restriction, so he could still move if he needed to.

He stood there for a long moment, looking at himself in the mirror. It was strange, seeing himself like this. It wasn’t him. At least, not the him that walked the streets on patrol, not the him who burned with restless energy and a chip on his shoulder. This version looked more controlled. He wondered if Keigo would like it.

The thought irritated him enough that he grabbed his phone again, checking the time. Just under two hours until the gala officially started. If he left a little late, he could slip in without drawing too much attention.

He scrolled back to Enji’s message thread, typing out a short reply.

——

Touya (6:55 PM):
Don’t expect anything.

——

No explanation, no confirmation, just enough to let him wonder. The phone buzzed almost instantly.

——

Enji (6:55 PM):
I understand.

——

The answer was short. Clipped. Almost careful. Touya tossed the phone back onto the bed and grabbed his coat.

The air outside was cooler than it had been earlier, but he didn’t mind. The walk to the train station would give him time to decide whether this was the worst idea he’d had in months, or just maybe, a decent one.

The phone buzzed again in his pocket as he locked the door behind him. He pulled it out, thumb sliding over the screen.

——

Keigo (6:57 PM):
seriously though if ur sitting at home then ur missing out

——

Touya smirked faintly, sliding the phone back into his pocket without replying. He’d let Keigo find out the truth when he walked through those doors.

The building was lit up like it thought it was competing with the moon. Warm golden light spilled out from the glass-paneled entrance, catching on every inch of polished marble and chrome trim, making the place glow like it had been dipped in honey.

Touya stood at the edge of the sidewalk, hands in his coat pockets, watching the flow of people moving in and out through the tall revolving doors. The crowd was all silk gowns and sharp suits, laughter that sounded just a little too loud, the low hum of expensive cologne and champagne. Even out here, he could hear the distant murmur of music from the ballroom above.

Two hours ago, he’d been debating whether or not to show up. Now he was here, staring at the gaudy display like it had personally offended him.

The thing was, walking away would be easy. No one expected him to come. He could turn right back around, catch the next train, be home before Keigo even noticed. But that same thought was exactly what made him shove his hands deeper in his pockets and step forward.

Inside, the lobby was all glass chandeliers and pristine floors you could see your own reflection in. The warmth hit him immediately, almost uncomfortably so, but the faint scent of fresh flowers mixed with the expensive alcohol was enough to remind him where he was, and that was somewhere he didn’t belong, not really.

The staff at the check-in desk didn’t blink at his name, just handed him a small, tasteful badge with “Phoenix – No. 2” printed in neat letters. He clipped it to his jacket without looking at it, scanning the crowd instead.

It was easy to spot Enji, towering over most of the other guests, red hair unmistakable under the soft lighting. He was surrounded by a small group, all of them leaning in like whatever he was saying was worth hanging on every word. Touya’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t move toward him. Not yet.

The elevator up to the main hall was half-full of other heroes and people who clearly wanted to be seen with them. Touya stood in the corner, ignoring the sidelong glances. He could hear bits of conversation (updates on cases, talk about sponsors, polite gossip) but none of it stuck. His mind kept circling back to one thought.

Keigo was here somewhere.

The elevator doors slid open onto a wall of sound. Music from a live band poured over the room, mixing with the hum of hundreds of conversations. The main ballroom was huge, ceiling arched high and dripping with gold accents, tables pushed to the sides to leave a wide-open space in the center where people milled around. Every surface gleamed. Every person looked like they’d spent hours preparing for this.

Touya stepped in, letting the crowd pull him forward. Eyes flicked toward him, curiosity, surprise, the unspoken question of why he’d shown up at all, but no one stopped him. That was fine. He wasn’t here for them.

It didn’t take long to spot Keigo. He was near one of the tall windows, laughing at something a man in a navy suit had just said. Even from across the room, Touya could see the way the light caught on the gold in his eyes, the way his hair fell perfectly into place despite the humidity in the air. The suit was black with a subtle sheen, cut to fit him exactly, the tie a deep red that pulled all the color out of the room and into him. His wings shifted idly behind him, catching the light so that they looked almost unreal.

And of course, there were people around him. Two women in dresses that probably cost more than Touya’s rent, a man who kept leaning in too close to say something directly into Keigo’s ear.
Touya felt that same curl of something unpleasant in his chest, sharp enough to make him shift his jaw. He told himself it was fine, Keigo was doing his job, working the room, being the public’s favourite, but it didn’t stop the flicker of irritation from sparking low in his stomach.

He didn’t head straight over. Instead, he moved through the crowd at an easy pace, letting himself be stopped once or twice by other heroes who offered polite greetings. He gave curt nods, short answers, enough to be civil without inviting conversation.

It wasn’t until Keigo’s gaze finally flicked his way, mid-laugh, in the middle of whatever story he’d been telling, that Touya felt the tension in his shoulders shift.

For just a second, Keigo froze. His smile didn’t drop, but it changed, turning sharper at the edges, like he’d just spotted something far more interesting than the company he was keeping. Touya didn’t break eye contact as he stepped closer, stopping just out of reach.

“Phoenix,” Keigo said easily, voice carrying enough for the others to hear, “didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Touya shrugged, slipping into the role they’d been perfecting for weeks now. “Guess I wanted to see what the fuss was about.”

One of the women gave a polite laugh. “You two know each other well enough to joke? I thought-”
“You thought right,” Touya cut in smoothly, not taking his eyes off Keigo. “We do hate each other. But it just makes these things less boring when we happen to cross paths.”

Keigo’s grin widened, but there was something in his eyes that didn’t match it. “Can’t argue with that.”

The man in the navy suit made some excuse and stepped away, followed quickly by one of the women. The other lingered, but her attention was already drifting elsewhere.

Keigo tilted his head slightly, wings twitching behind him. “You clean up nice.”

Touya smirked faintly. “You don’t look terrible yourself.”

That earned him a low chuckle, but before Keigo could say more, a couple of other heroes came up, greeting him by name, asking about his latest patrols. Touya took the chance to step back, letting Keigo be pulled into their conversation while he drifted toward the edge of the room.

He needed a drink. Not because he couldn’t handle this, but because it gave him something to do with his hands while he waited for the right moment.

The bar was set up in one corner, all glass shelves and bottles that looked like they’d been chosen for display more than taste. He ordered something simple, leaning against the counter while he scanned the room again.

Keigo was still surrounded, but every so often, his gaze would flick in Touya’s direction. It wasn’t obvious, Keigo was too good at this for it to be obvious, but Touya caught it every time.

He took a slow sip of his drink, letting the cold liquid slide down his throat. He didn’t need to rush. The night was just getting started, and sooner or later, Keigo would find his way over.

Until then, Touya could stand here, watch him work the room, and try not to think about how damn good he looked doing it.

It wasn’t long before the drink in Touya’s hand had gone warm, though he hadn’t noticed until the condensation ran down his fingers and dripped onto the polished bar top. He set the glass down, flexing his hand once as he scanned the ballroom.

Keigo was still talking, his grin as sharp and effortless as always, wings shifting just enough to catch the light and keep every set of eyes on him. He looked like he was made for this, like the glitter, the chatter, the stage lights had been designed around him instead of the other way around.

Touya hated how easily it came to him. Hated more how much he couldn’t look away. He was still staring when a shadow stretched over the bar.

“You came.”

The voice was unmistakable. Deep, weighted, a tone that carried authority even when it didn’t mean to. Touya stiffened before he turned his head, already knowing what he’d see.

Enji Todoroki stood at his side, impossibly large in his tailored suit. The fabric looked like it had been reinforced just to contain him, shoulders squared, the usual stubble on his chin shaved off. Even without the flames, he was a presence that pulled every eye nearby. The air seemed heavier when he spoke, like he filled every inch of space whether he wanted to or not.

Touya’s jaw worked once before he managed a reply. “Don’t sound so surprised. I messaged you that I’d show up.”

Enji studied him in silence for a long moment. His eyes, so much like Touya’s own, dragged over the suit, the tie, the badge clipped neatly to his lapel. It wasn’t judgment, not exactly. More like evaluation. Touya hated it.

“You look professional,” Enji said finally.

Touya barked a humorless laugh, turning back toward the bar. “What, no lecture about how i should be talkin’ to people? No ‘it’s about time you learned to play the game’?”

Enji didn’t flinch. “If you’re here, then you already made your decision. I don’t need to lecture you.”

That was almost worse. Touya took another sip of his drink, if only to have something to do with his mouth besides snap back.

Enji shifted slightly, enough to angle his body toward him. “It’s only been two days since I last asked, but are you getting along better with Hawks yet?”

Touya’s grip on the glass tightened before he set it back down too hard, the sharp clink earning a glance from the bartender. He ignored it. “No.”

“That’s all?”

“Why, you want a play-by-play?” Touya shot back, finally turning to face him. “He’s annoying, I can’t stand him, and we get the job done anyway. That’s the whole story.”

Enji’s brow furrowed, not in anger but in thought. “You’re making it work. That’s what matters.”

Touya stared at him, lips parting around a retort that didn’t come. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, maybe disappointment, smugness, or another reminder of how Enji knew best, but not this. Not simple acknowledgment. Before he could decide how to react, a familiar voice slid into the space between them.

“Wow, didn’t think I’d see you two actually talking without one of you storming off.”

Keigo’s tone was light, teasing, but Touya could hear the deliberate edge under it. He turned to see him approaching, wings folded just enough to avoid brushing the nearest guests, steps smooth and unhurried. Up close, the suit was even more distracting, the cut, the color, the way it moved with him like it was part of his skin.

Keigo’s gaze flicked from Touya to Enji and back again, his smile widening just a little. “Mind if I cut in?”

Enji’s expression didn’t shift, but Touya thought he saw something tighten around his eyes. “Not at all.”

Keigo slid into place at Touya’s other side like he belonged there, leaning against the bar with easy confidence. He signaled for a drink without even looking at the bartender, attention fixed entirely on the two men beside him.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show up, Phoenix,” he said, voice pitched just loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “Starting to think you’re enjoying my company more than you let on.”

Touya scoffed, grateful for the familiar rhythm of their banter. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Keigo’s grin only widened, feathers rustling faintly. “Can’t help it. You’ve got that face that says you’d rather be anywhere else, and yet here you are.”

Enji’s gaze moved between them, sharp and assessing. Not disapproving, but careful. Like he was watching a puzzle take shape in front of him.

Touya shifted his weight, glaring at Keigo in a way that looked real enough to anyone watching. “What, run out of fans already? Had to come bother me?”

Keigo laughed, head tilting just enough to let a few strands of blond hair fall into his face. “Please. I’ve got plenty of fans. But none of them are as fun to annoy as you.”

The bartender set his drink down, and Keigo picked it up, swirling it lazily before taking a sip. His eyes flicked toward Touya again, softer this time, almost hidden under the mask of his grin.

Touya looked away first, pulse irritatingly quick under his skin.

Enji cleared his throat, the sound low but impossible to ignore. “It’s good that you’re both here. The public likes to see top heroes… united.”

Keigo smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure it’s obvious that we’re practically inseparable these days.”

His sarcasm rung out and Touya shot him a look sharp enough to cut, but Keigo just sipped his drink, wings twitching in faint amusement.

Enji didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he gave a small nod, as if that answer was enough for now. “Enjoy the evening.”

With that, he stepped back, blending into the crowd with the kind of presence that still drew eyes even as he walked away. For a moment, Touya and Keigo stood in silence, the noise of the gala rushing back around them.

Then Touya muttered, “You’re an idiot.”

Keigo chuckled under his breath, leaning in just enough that his shoulder brushed Touya’s. “Maybe. But you like me anyway.”

Touya didn’t answer. Not here. Not where too many eyes could see. But the fact that he didn’t pull away, that said enough.

Keigo put his glass down with a clink and wandered off to where a group of heroes were standing.

It only took a few more minutes before the gala started to feel suffocating. Too many voices, too much light, too many eyes that could catch the smallest twitch of expression. Touya’s patience was already hanging by threads, and Keigo knew it. He knew because every time their gazes met across the crowd, Touya’s stare burned hotter than any fire he could conjure.

Keigo had been waiting for the right moment. And when Touya finally set his glass down and muttered something about “getting some air,” Keigo was already slipping away from his own circle of admirers, trailing him like he’d been planning it all night.

Instead of leading them toward the balcony or the exit, Touya veered off down one of the side halls, his stride sharp and fast. Keigo caught up easily, wings twitching behind him in anticipation. He didn’t even need to ask. He just followed, heart pounding with a giddy sort of recklessness that always hit him hardest around Touya.

The bathrooms were pristine, with marble tiles, gilded mirrors, the faint scent of expensive soap in the air. Empty, for now. Touya checked the stalls once, then grabbed Keigo by the wrist and tugged him into the farthest one.

The lock clicked shut. The moment it did, Keigo barely had time to draw a breath before Touya had him pressed back against the stall wall, mouth crashing against his.

Keigo gasped into the kiss, his drink still humming warm in his blood, his body already melting into the heat of Touya’s touch. His hands slid up the front of Touya’s jacket, clutching at the fabric, pulling him closer, closer still.
Touya kissed like he fought, hard, unrelenting, like he wanted to consume. His hand gripped Keigo’s jaw, tilting his head just enough to deepen the kiss, his other hand braced against the wall beside him.

Keigo let out a muffled sound, part laugh, part moan, his wings twitching in the cramped space. “You’re-” His words were swallowed as Touya dragged his mouth along his jaw, biting down hard enough to make him gasp again. “-possessive tonight.”

Touya’s voice was low against his ear, rough with heat. “Should’ve thought about that before letting half the damn room drool over you.”

Keigo shuddered, grin breaking through even as his breath hitched. “What, you jealous? Cute.”

That earned him a glare, and then Touya’s mouth was back on his, hot and demanding. Keigo answered with equal hunger, kissing back fiercely, hands sliding up into Touya’s hair and tugging until he felt the other man’s low hiss against his lips.

The space was small, but it didn’t matter. Their bodies fit together too perfectly, Touya pressing him tight against the wall, chest to chest, hips grinding slow and deliberate. The friction sent sparks racing through Keigo’s veins, his breath catching in sharp little bursts between kisses.

His suit jacket had slipped halfway off his shoulders, collar askew where Touya had pushed it aside to nip at the skin of his neck. Keigo tilted his head back without thinking, giving him more room, his grip tightening in Touya’s hair as sharp teeth grazed his throat.

“Damn it, Touya-” The words came out ragged, breaking into a low sound as Touya sucked hard enough to leave a mark.

“Already had you covered a few days ago,” Touya muttered against his skin, voice thick. “Guess a couple more marks won’t hurt.”

Keigo laughed breathlessly, the sound dissolving into another gasp as Touya ground against him harder, slow and punishing, every movement deliberate. His fingers dug into Touya’s shoulders, half to steady himself, half to pull him closer.

“People are gonna notice if i go back in there with marks on me,” he managed, though his voice was already fraying at the edges.

“Good,” Touya muttered, kissing him again, hard, almost bruising. “Let them.”

Keigo groaned into the kiss, giving up any pretense of resistance. His body answered every push, every touch, grinding back in a rhythm that had his heart hammering against his ribs. Heat built between them, a tangible thing in the tight space, their breaths coming fast and shallow, their mouths breaking and finding each other again and again.

When Touya finally pulled back, both of them were flushed, panting, their foreheads pressed together. Keigo’s tie was crooked, his shirt collar open, his lips swollen. Touya’s hair was a mess where Keigo had pulled at it, his mouth red from kissing, a dangerous glint still in his eyes.

Keigo grinned, even as he tried to catch his breath. “You’re terrible at pretending you don’t want me.”

Touya’s smirk was dark, breath hot against his lips. “And you’re terrible at shutting up.”

Touya had Keigo pinned for one last kiss, slower this time, almost reluctant, before he finally forced himself to pull away. Their mouths parted with a sound that felt too loud in the quiet.

For a long second neither of them moved. Keigo’s chest rose and fell fast, his lips kiss-bruised, his wings twitching in the cramped space. Touya’s hand lingered at his jaw before he let it fall.

“Go first,” Touya muttered, his voice rough from too much kissing, from too much everything.

Keigo grinned crookedly, still catching his breath. “Worried we’ll look suspicious?”

Touya scowled, turning to fuss with his tie in the mirror of his phone. “Worried I’ll put my fist through the face of the first person who asks why you look like you just got out of someone’s bed.”

Keigo laughed, low and warm, the sound curling in Touya’s stomach. He smoothed a few strands of hair back into place, tugged his jacket straight, then leaned in to press a quick kiss at the corner of Touya’s mouth. Soft. Fleeting. Gone before Touya could react.

“See you out there, partner,” Keigo teased, and then the lock clicked and he was gone, striding out of the bathroom like he owned the world.

Touya stayed put for another minute, maybe two. His pulse was still thundering. His reflection looked wrecked, he was flushed, eyes too bright, lips red. He splashed water on his face, muttered a curse under his breath, and redid his tie with hands that felt clumsier than they should.

By the time he left the bathroom, his mask was back in place. The ballroom swallowed him whole again, voices rising and falling in waves, the glitter of lights sharp against the polished floors.
It didn’t take long to spot Keigo. His blond head and sweeping crimson wings always drew attention, always marked him in a crowd. He was at the center of it again, laughing, talking, the picture of charm.

And Mirko was with him.

The Rabbit Hero leaned against the bar beside him, ears tilted back as she smirked at something he’d said. Her sharpness matched his brightness, the two of them sparking off each other in a way that made it obvious why there were suspicions that the two of them were dating. Keigo looked easy with her, comfortable, his grin unforced.

Touya’s jaw tightened before he forced himself to look away. Of course Rumi was here. Of course Keigo would gravitate toward her. That was normal. Everyone knew they were close. Nothing strange about it. Nothing Touya had any right to care about.

He threaded his way into another cluster of heroes, nodding once as someone hailed him. Pro Hero Phoenix. No.2. That was all anyone saw when they looked at him here. Not Touya. Not the man who had just been kissing Hawks breathless in a locked stall.

“Phoenix,” a voice greeted warmly. He turned to find a smaller hero from the western wards, eyes bright with the kind of admiration Touya would never get used to. “Good to see you. I was hoping to ask about your patrol routes. Your coverage has been incredible lately.”

Touya forced a thin smile, slipping into the role he knew he was expected to play. Detached and professional. A little sharp, a little intimidating. It wasn’t hard. “Depends on what you want to know.”

The conversation carried him forward, questions about efficiency, about coordination, about firepower strategies. Touya answered in clipped sentences, offering just enough to be polite without giving too much away. He wasn’t here to mentor. He wasn’t here to network.

But his eyes kept straying, unbidden, to the other side of the room. To where Keigo leaned in close as Rumi laughed at something he said, her hand swatting at his shoulder playfully.

Touya’s drink was gone again before he realized it. Someone else asked him about Endeavor, about what it was like to work under the No.1. His laugh was bitter before he could stop it. “Ask him yourself.”

A few people chuckled nervously, shifting in the silence that followed. Touya didn’t care. He let them change the subject.

Another glass was pressed into his hand by a server, and he sipped it slowly this time, grounding himself in the burn. The gala was too loud, too bright, too full of people who didn’t see the jagged edges under the mask. He wasn’t sure why he’d thought coming was a good idea.

Then, across the room, Keigo’s laugh rang out, bright, careless, too familiar, and Touya’s chest tightened. He turned back to the group he’d found himself with, forcing his attention to the conversation. If Keigo wanted to play at best friends with Rumi, fine. Let the world see them together. Let them speculate. Let them question if they were together. It kept eyes off what was really happening.

That didn’t make it easier.

Touya drained his glass in one swallow, setting it down hard enough on the bar that a few people glanced his way. His gaze flicked once more toward Keigo, just in time to catch the quick flash of golden eyes cutting toward him through the crowd.

The grin on Keigo’s face didn’t falter, but Touya knew. He knew Keigo had seen him watching. And that knowledge burned hotter than the liquor in his veins.

Chapter Text

It had been two weeks since the hero gala. Two weeks since Touya had stood in a hall full of businessmen and heroes and watched Keigo laugh with Rumi while pretending his chest wasn’t burning with the jealousy he had repeatedly tried to rid himself of. Two weeks since they’d slipped out of that bathroom stall like strangers, putting the mask back on, pretending nothing had happened.

They hadn’t talked about the gala since. Not the grinding, not the heat of it, not the way Touya had barely been able to look at anyone else the rest of the night without thinking about Keigo’s mouth, Keigo’s laugh, Keigo’s wings brushing the walls of a stall meant for one.

Now, it was late. The streets were quiet after a mission they’d just finished, the city finally still for once, as if even the villains had gotten tired and gone to bed. They were close to Keigo’s place when the job wrapped, and Keigo had said, “Come on. My place is close. It’s too late to drag your ass across town.”

Touya hadn’t argued.

So now they sat on Keigo’s couch, the city lights bleeding faintly through half-open blinds, the quiet heavy but not uncomfortable. Keigo had tossed his jacket somewhere, his wings shifting lazily as though they were just as worn out as the rest of him. His hair was a mess from the night, the sharpness of his usual smile dulled into something softer, something tired.

Touya leaned back against the couch cushions, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. He lit it with a flick of his quirk, the cerulean flame sparking quick and hot, then took a long drag before exhaling toward the ceiling. The smoke curled in lazy ribbons, catching faintly in the yellow light of the lamp.

Keigo raised a brow, his lips quirking faintly. “Didn’t peg you for the type to do the after-mission chain-smoker thing. Thought you just burned everything else down.”

Touya smirked around the cigarette. “Old habits. Calms me down.” He tipped his head toward Keigo, a spark of mischief in his eye. “You ever tried it?”

Keigo tilted his head, feathers twitching. “Well. Never cared to. Figured it’d mess with my head too much. And my voice. And y’know, the whole heart-and-lungs thing.”

Touya huffed a laugh, smoke escaping with it. “So, no.”

“No,” Keigo repeated, smirking a little. Then, softer, curious: “What’s it like?”

Touya considered him for a beat, then held the cigarette out between two fingers, offering it. “Try it.”

Keigo blinked at him. “What, just like that? You’re trying to corrupt me now?”

“You’re already corrupted,” Touya said flatly, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “One drag won’t kill you. I’ll teach you.”

Keigo hesitated, wings shifting again, the tips brushing against the couch. His eyes flicked from the cigarette to Touya’s face, uncertain but intrigued. “…Fine. But if I cough up a lung, I’m blaming you.”

Touya smirked, lifting the cigarette back to his lips instead of handing it over. He inhaled slow, the ember burning brighter at the tip, then pulled it away.

Without giving Keigo warning, he leaned in close, caught him by the chin, and kissed him. Keigo’s eyes widened, surprise flashing across his face as smoke filled his mouth. He made a muffled noise against Touya’s lips, caught between shock and laughter and something else, and when Touya finally pulled back, Keigo exhaled in a shaky burst, coughing once, his cheeks flushed.

“The hell-” Keigo started, then broke into a laugh, half breathless, half flustered. “You could’ve just given the cigarette to me, you bastard.”

Touya smirked, leaning back like nothing had happened. “You looked nervous. Figured this would shut you up.”

Keigo’s grin was crooked, his face still a little red. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah,” Touya said simply, tapping ash into the tray on the table. He took another drag, then held the cigarette out again. “Here. For real this time. Just inhale slow. Hold it, but not for too long.”

Keigo took it carefully, his fingers brushing Touya’s for just a second, and lifted it to his mouth. He mimicked what he’d seen Touya do, drawing in, his brow furrowing as the smoke filled his lungs. He coughed once, hand pressing lightly to his chest, but managed to exhale with less of a mess than he’d expected.

“Not bad,” Touya said, watching him with a faintly amused look. “Try again. Slower.”

Keigo tried again, and again, until he got the rhythm of it. He passed the cigarette back, his grin cocky despite the faint rasp in his throat. “Look at that. Natural talent.”

Touya rolled his eyes, though the smirk didn’t leave his face. “Relax. You’re not special.”

“Sure I am,” Keigo shot back, leaning against the couch arm, wings shifting to drape lazily over the cushions. His golden eyes caught the lamplight, softer than usual, lingering on Touya. “Otherwise you wouldn’t bother being around me.”

Touya didn’t answer right away. He just took another drag, then handed the cigarette back, the tip glowing faintly in the dim. The silence stretched, comfortable, the air heavy with smoke and the kind of quiet that only came when both of them were too tired to keep up the masks they wore outside.

Keigo held the cigarette, watching it smolder between his fingers, then glanced at Touya again. His grin had softened into something smaller, almost tentative. “You ever gonna tell me why you actually smoke? Or you just gonna keep saying ‘old habits’ forever?”

Touya tilted his head back against the couch, exhaling toward the ceiling, his expression unreadable. “…Depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether you’re asking as Hawks,” Touya said slowly, voice low, “or as Keigo.”

The question hung between them, heavier than the smoke. Keigo blinked, the cocky grin faltering into something quieter, something more real. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then stopped, biting back the words.

Touya watched him, expression guarded, cigarette burning low between Keigo’s fingers. The silence stretched, teetering on the edge of something bigger, something they hadn’t said yet.

Touya leaned over, taking the cigarette from Keigo, lifting it to his lips and drawing in a breathe. He watched the smoke curl toward the ceiling as he exhaled, his head tipped back against the couch cushions. He placed the cigarette down and let it burn slow in the ashtray between them, faint ember pulsing like a second heartbeat.

Keigo’s eyes were still on him, searching, softer than they usually were when he put on the Hawks grin. Too soft, maybe.

Touya gave a quiet snort, cutting through the quiet. “You’re staring.”

Keigo leaned his head against the back of the couch, golden eyes half-lidded. “Yeah. You gonna arrest me for it?”

“Tempting.” Touya’s mouth tugged into a crooked smirk, but it didn’t stay long.

He reached out to the cigarette back up, his hands already itching to hold it again, and took a slow drag.

Keigo leaned his head back against the couch, watching the stream of smoke slipping past Touya’s lips. “So this is what you do to unwind, huh? Burn your lungs out until you forget how pissed off you are?”

Touya shot him a side-eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Something like that. Not like I’ve got hobbies. You wanna start me on knitting instead?”

Keigo laughed quietly, wings twitching against the cushions. “Nah. Can’t really picture you with a pair of needles. You’d stab someone before you finished a scarf.”

Touya huffed, amused despite himself. “They’d probably deserve it.”

“Probably,” Keigo admitted easily, then tilted his head, studying him. “So if you’re not the knitting type… what did you do? You know, before all this. Before the hero thing swallowed us up.”

Touya paused with the cigarette halfway to his mouth. His expression shifted, guarded. “…Didn’t really have a before.”

Keigo didn’t push, just let the words hang. He drummed his fingers lightly against his knee, voice gentler when he spoke again. “Must’ve had something. Everyone’s got something. Music, sports, whatever made ‘em feel like themselves.”

Touya exhaled smoke, his eyes narrowing at the ceiling. “Didn’t have time for that.”

“Seriously?” Keigo asked softly.

Touya gave a sharp laugh that didn’t sound much like amusement. “Try growing up in a house where being a kid was the least important thing about you. Where every minute was about training harder, doing better. Where if you didn’t shine bright enough, you weren’t worth looking at.”

The silence after that stretched, heavier now. Keigo shifted, leaning an elbow on the back of the couch, golden eyes steady on him. “…That your dad who raised you like that?”

Touya’s jaw flexed, his smirk fading into something harder. He tapped ash into the tray with deliberate precision, and dropped the cigarette into it. “Yeah. That was him. That’s still him. Doesn’t matter how many times he plays the changed man now, it’s still the same old bastard underneath.”

“…My old man,” Touya muttered, almost like he was thinking aloud, his voice low. He dragged his hand through his hair, the strands falling back in a mess. “I’ve hated him for as long as I can remember. Still do. Even with all his bullshit apologies, the fake good-guy act he’s been trying to pull the last couple years, it doesn’t erase shit. Doesn’t erase what he did to me. To the rest of my family.”

Keigo didn’t move, didn’t interrupt. His wings were still, folded in close to the couch, his expression unreadable but intent.

Touya laughed, a rough, humorless sound. “You know what it’s like, growing up in a place where the only thing that matters is how strong you are? How useful you are to someone else’s ego? You’re not a kid, you’re not their son, you’re a project. And if you break, well…” His smile twisted sharp. “Then you’re a failure.”

Keigo’s fingers drummed lightly against his thigh, the only sign of movement. His voice was quiet when he answered. “Yeah. I think I know a little about that.”

Touya cut him a glance, skeptical. “Do you.” It wasn’t spoken as a question.

Keigo leaned forward, snagged the cigarette from the ashtray, and took a careful drag before exhaling slow, letting the smoke curl around his face. He looked tired in that moment, the golden shine of his eyes dulled. “I’ve been the Commission’s golden boy since I was a kid. Raised for it. Trained for it. Every feather I’ve got, every move I make, it’s all theirs. My freedom’s a nice illusion, but the second they snap their fingers, I go where they tell me. Do what they tell me. Smile when they say smile. Look at me.” He gave a wry grin, one that didn’t touch his eyes. “Even when I’m supposed to be off-duty, I’m still Hawks. They don’t let me be Keigo.”

Touya studied him, his expression shifting, softer at the edges though he didn’t say anything.

Keigo took another drag before passing the cigarette back, shaking his head with a small laugh. “I get paraded around at galas, shoved in front of cameras, plastered on billboards like a fucking toy. People see the wings, the grin, the easy charm, and they eat it up. But no one ever asks if I’m tired. If I wanna stop. If I’m-” He cut himself off, jaw tightening.

Touya’s voice was quieter this time. “If you’re happy.”

Keigo let out a short laugh, more like a scoff. “Yeah. That.” He slouched back against the couch, wings rustling as if even they were restless. “You’re the only person who’s ever seemed to care about that. And I don’t even know the answer to the damn question.”

Touya took a slow drag, considering that. The silence stretched, heavy but not unbearable. He exhaled, smoke drifting between them. “…You sound like me.”

Keigo’s head tilted, his grin returning, smaller this time. “Guess that’s why we drive each other nuts.”

Touya snorted, but his lips quirked faintly. “Probably.”

For a while they just sat there, passing the cigarette back and forth, the quiet more comfortable now. The city outside was muffled, the kind of late-night lull where everything felt smaller, closer.

Touya eventually broke the silence again, his voice rough but steady. “I thought about quitting. A couple times. Just walking away and letting the old man rot at the top. But every time I get close, I remember that I’m not done. Not yet. I still have to prove him wrong. Still have to prove to him, and myself, that I can be a great hero. That’s the only thing that’s kept me going some days.”

Keigo’s eyes lingered on him, unreadable. “And after? What happens when you’ve decided that you’ve proven that? When there’s nothing left to prove?”

Touya froze at that, the question sinking in deeper than he expected. He didn’t answer right away.

Keigo shifted closer, his voice softer now. “What do you want for yourself, Touya? Not as Phoenix. Not as Endeavor’s son. Just you.”

Touya looked at him, caught between annoyance and something else, something more fragile. He wanted to snap, to tell Keigo it wasn’t his business, to push the question away before it dug too deep. But the words stuck in his throat, wouldn’t come out.

Instead, he looked down at the cigarette in his hand, at the faint glow at the tip. His voice came out quieter than he meant. “…Don’t know.”

Keigo didn’t press, didn’t push. He just nodded slowly, as if he understood. Maybe he did.

Touya shifted, passing the cigarette back, his hand brushing Keigo’s fingers. The touch lingered, small, unspoken.
And the silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t heavy. It just was.

They sat there, smoke curling in the lamplight, the weight of the night pressing in, both of them carrying too much but sharing just enough that it felt lighter.

When Touya finally spoke again, his voice was lower, more vulnerable than before. “You don’t get tired of carrying all that?”

Keigo let out a small sigh, his lips quirking faintly. “All the time. But what else am I supposed to do? Put it down and watch someone else fuck it up?” He shook his head. “Better me than them.”

Touya hummed at that, something like agreement in the sound. His gaze softened, just for a moment, before he leaned back again, shoulders loosening.

The night stretched long, the city humming quietly outside, and the silence between them hung heavy.

The smoke had long since burned itself out, a thin line of ash crumbling into the tray on the coffee table. Touya hadn’t lit another cigarette, though his fingers itched for it. The craving scratched at the back of his throat, but something about the silence, something about the way it settled between him and Keigo, kept him still.

It wasn’t awkward. Not really. But it wasn’t comfortable either. It was that strange in-between, like a wire pulled tight. He could feel the heaviness in his chest, a weight that hadn’t quite lifted even after spilling more than he’d meant to.

Touya tipped his head against the back of the couch, let his eyes slide shut for a second, breathing out through his nose. When he opened them again, the first thing he noticed was that Keigo wasn’t moving.

His gaze shifted sideways. Keigo’s head had tilted against the couch cushion, lips parted slightly, golden eyes closed. His breathing was soft, steady, the kind of rhythm that spoke of exhaustion pulling him under. His wings had slumped at awkward angles, one draped across the couch back, the other hanging over the armrest and brushing the floor like it had given up fighting gravity.

Touya stared at him for a moment.

“Seriously?” His voice was quiet, almost a mutter, but Keigo didn’t stir.

Of course. Hawks could run his mouth for hours, fill every crack in a room with noise, but the second he felt safe (or maybe just tired) he crashed. And apparently, he’d decided that the couch was good enough.

Touya scrubbed a hand over his face, torn between irritation and something else. He should leave him, should just throw a blanket over him, or hell, leave him as he was and head out. It wasn’t his problem if Hawks woke up with a sore neck.

But he didn’t move. Not right away.
His gaze traced the curve of Keigo’s face in the lamplight, softer like this, stripped of the cocky grin and sharp comebacks. Younger, too. Without the bravado, he looked almost fragile.

Touya hated that thought. Hawks wasn’t fragile, he was irritating, smug, annoyingly good at everything. But still…

He sighed, low and rough. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

Carefully, he reached out, brushing the back of his fingers against Keigo’s shoulder. No reaction, so he was out cold, which left him with a problem. He couldn’t just leave him like that.

His wings would be stiff as hell in the morning, his back wrecked. And if the Commission ever caught sight of their precious number three hero looking like he’d been dragged through a gutter and passed out on the side of the street, they’d probably throw a fit.

Touya stood, joints stiff from sitting too long. He hovered for a second, glaring down at Keigo like he might wake up out of spite. When he didn’t, Touya muttered a curse under his breath and bent, slipping his arms carefully beneath him.

Keigo was lighter than he expected. Strong, sure, Touya knew the muscles were there under all that casual swagger, but light. Bird-boned, he realized. Built for flight, not for carrying weight.

As Touya lifted him, Keigo murmured something unintelligible, shifting slightly against his chest. His head lolled against Touya’s shoulder, warm breath ghosting against his collar.

Touya froze, muscles going rigid. For a split second, he considered dropping him back on the couch and calling it a night. But the thought of those wings bent at bad angles, feathers crushed against cheap upholstery, kept him moving.

“Don’t make me regret this,” he muttered, adjusting his grip.

Navigating Hawks’ apartment wasn’t simple. Touya had only been here once before, and that was a blur. The layout was clean but oddly impersonal, like a place meant to be lived in just enough to function, not enough to feel like home. He tried the first door he came to, nudging it open with his foot. A closet. Definitely not Keigo’s room.

The second door opened into what looked like an office space, the desk was neat, and papers were stacked too precisely, as though Hawks had done it just for show. But not a bedroom.

“Where the hell do you sleep, birdbrain…” Touya grumbled, shifting Keigo’s weight.

He tried the third, and luckily that one was right. The room was simple, bed neatly made, no extra clutter, just a dresser, a nightstand, a few framed photos on the wall, crimson wings spread in flight, smiling for cameras, nothing personal. It looked staged, the kind of room someone kept clean in case anyone ever snooped, but not lived in.

Touya stepped inside, kicking the door mostly shut behind him. He crossed to the bed and lowered Keigo down as carefully as he could manage, easing him back onto the mattress. The sheets rustled under him, and Keigo shifted with a faint sigh, but he didn’t wake.

Touya tugged the duvet loose and pulled it over him, tucking it up to his chest. He stood there for a second, arms folded, staring down at him.

This should be the part where he left. Where he walked out, shut the door, and put as much distance between himself and the sleeping idiot as possible.

But he didn’t move towards the door. Instead, he found himself lowering onto the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees. His eyes lingered on Keigo’s face, still soft, still unguarded. He wasn’t used to seeing him like this. Vulnerability wasn’t Hawks’ brand, and yet, here it was, spread out across his sheets, his wings splayed half over the edge of the bed like he hadn’t learned to hold them tight even in sleep.

Touya’s chest ached in a way he didn’t want to name. He shifted, running a hand through his hair. He could still leave. Should leave. But when he glanced down again, something in him gave out.

With a muttered curse, he kicked off his shoes and eased himself onto the bed. He lay stiffly at first, on his back, staring at the ceiling like it might judge him for it. The warmth of Keigo beside him was immediate, radiating through the space between them.

For a long moment, Touya didn’t move.
Then, reluctantly, he turned onto his side, his hand hovering for a second before he let it rest lightly against Keigo’s waist, not quite pulling him close but not keeping the distance either.

Keigo stirred faintly, murmured something too quiet to catch, and shifted into the touch. His head turned against the pillow, his body settling unconsciously closer. The duvet shifted with him, cocooning them both in warmth.

Touya went still, breath caught. Slowly, carefully, he let his arm slip around Keigo fully, pulling him in until their bodies fit together under the blankets. Keigo’s wings twitched, then settled, folding closer as if instinctively sheltering them both. Touya exhaled, long and low, his face pressing into the curve of Keigo’s hair.

“This is so damn stupid,” he muttered, though his grip didn’t loosen. He didn’t move away and he didn’t plan on leaving.

The steady rhythm of Keigo’s breathing filled the silence, soft and even, and Touya felt his own begin to match it, his chest rising and falling in time.

For the first time in longer than he could remember, the weight pressing on him eased. It wasn’t gone, it was never gone. But it was lighter and more bearable for once.

His eyes slipped shut, and in the quiet of Keigo’s too-clean, too-sterile bedroom, wrapped up in warmth and feathers and the scent of smoke clinging to them both, Touya let himself hold on.

Chapter Text

Touya woke up to warmth.

For a moment, that was all he noticed. The kind that seeped into his bones and dulled the edges of the exhaustion he carried around like a second skin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt it like this, so steady, so close.

Usually he woke to the chill of an empty bed, a cramped apartment that still smelled faintly of smoke, the taste of ash and bitterness in his mouth before he even lit the first cigarette of the day.

But now? Now there was warmth pressed against him, soft and steady. A quiet weight in his arms, feathered and fragile, though not in the way it looked. His hand twitched against fabric, palm registering the rise and fall of breath beneath it.

He opened his eyes slowly and the first thing he saw was blond hair. Messy strands, tangled from sleep, catching what little light filtered through the half-drawn blinds. He blinked against it, the room hazy with morning, shadows stretched across the walls. His eyes adjusted slowly, but the picture in front of him stayed the same: Keigo, curled against him, chest moving in a steady rhythm, head tucked against his shoulder like it belonged there.

Touya froze. His breath caught sharp, but he didn’t move.

Last night came back to him in fragments, the couch, the smoke, the words that had spilled easier than he’d meant them to. Keigo’s voice low and tired, sharper truths hiding behind crooked grins. The way he’d passed out like it was nothing, sprawled half across the cushions, wings a mess of crimson angles. Touya carrying him, finding the bedroom, lowering him onto sheets too neat to be lived in. And then-

Touya cursed silently. He hadn’t meant to stay. He’d told himself to walk out, to shut the door, to put distance between them before this exact kind of thing could happen. But he hadn’t. He’d let himself slip under the covers, let the warmth pull him in, let his arm tighten until Keigo was pressed against his chest.

Now, Keigo was still here. Still asleep. Still close.

Touya’s jaw tightened. He could feel the beat of Keigo’s pulse, faint against his wrist. Could feel the twitch of his feathers against his arm, shifting slightly with each breath. He stared down at him, at the soft curve of his mouth, the faint crease between his brows that smoothed every time his breathing steadied. Without the sharp grin and easy charm, Keigo looked younger and softer than he usually did.

Vulnerable in a way Touya wasn’t sure he liked. No, he was sure that he didn’t like it. Vulnerability didn’t suit someone like Hawks. Didn’t suit someone who had the Commission wrapped around his neck like a leash and still managed to smile like it wasn’t choking him. Touya hated seeing Keigo’s strength stripped away, hated that it made something in his chest ache like he couldn’t get enough air.

He shifted slightly, testing the space between them, but Keigo stirred at the movement. His wings twitched, brushing against Touya’s legs, and Touya went still again, trapped by the weight of his own hesitation.

The smart thing would be to get up, untangle himself, slip out, and pretend it never happened. Keigo could wake alone, pass it off as exhaustion, and they could go back to pretending like they always did. Back to smoke and sharp words, back to masks that cracked only in shadows.

But Touya didn’t move. He couldn’t. His hand had stilled at Keigo’s waist, fingers curling faintly in the fabric of his shirt. He could feel the warmth through it, grounding him in a way he didn’t want to admit. His gaze flicked to Keigo’s face again, catching on the way his lashes rested against his skin, the faint rise and fall of his chest. It was too peaceful.

Touya dragged in a slow breath through his nose, trying to steady the tightness pressing at his ribs.

And then Keigo stirred. It was small at first, a twitch of his fingers against Touya’s chest, a faint shift of his head. His wings rustled against the sheets, feathers dragging soft against Touya’s legs as if reminding him they were there. Keigo’s breathing hitched, caught, then evened out again before his eyes blinked open.

Golden, half-lidded, still heavy with sleep, but clear enough that the moment stretched between them like a wire pulled taut. Keigo blinked again, slow, then tipped his head back just enough to meet Touya’s gaze.

For a second, neither of them spoke.
Touya felt the weight of it settle like smoke in his lungs. He almost looked away, almost pulled his arm back, almost reached for the easy smirk or sharp remark that would cut the silence before it got too heavy. But he didn’t.
Keigo’s lips curved faintly, the barest hint of a smile. Not the usual grin, not Hawks’ mask, just something small and tired. “Morning,” he rasped, voice low and rough with sleep.

Touya’s chest tightened. He swallowed, forced his voice to come out steady. “You drool in your sleep.”

Keigo’s smile widened, soft laughter spilling out, still hushed. “Do not.”

“Do too.”

Keigo huffed, shifting slightly against him, wings stretching before folding back close. He didn’t move away though. If anything, he leaned in closer, his head tipping lazily against Touya’s shoulder. “I bet you that I don’t.”

Touya rolled his eyes, but his hand didn’t move from where it rested at Keigo’s waist. He should’ve shoved him off, made space, reminded him this wasn’t normal. But his arm tightened instead, almost unconsciously, holding him closer. Keigo felt it and Touya knew he did. His smile softened again, quieter now, his eyes slipping shut for a moment like he could just sink back into sleep right there.

The silence stretched. The city outside was faint, distant, morning traffic still muted. Inside, the only sound was their breathing, uneven but steady enough. Touya hated how much he noticed it. Hated how his chest synced with Keigo’s, how natural it felt to match his rhythm. He hated that he didn’t want to move.

Keigo shifted again, tilting his head to look at him. His eyes were clearer now, sharper at the edges though still soft in the center. “Didn’t think you’d still be here when I woke up.”

Touya’s throat went tight. He snorted, trying to cover it. “What, you think I’d run?”

“Wouldn’t blame you,” Keigo said easily, though his gaze lingered too long, too steady. “You don’t strike me as the ‘stick around’ type.”

Touya’s smirk faltered. He looked away, staring at the ceiling like it might give him an answer. “…Maybe I’m not.”

Keigo hummed, not arguing, not agreeing. Just… listening. His hand shifted, brushing lightly against Touya’s chest, not a grab, not even a hold, just a touch that was barely there. It burned more than fire.

Touya exhaled sharply, turning his gaze back to him. “You always wake up this damn clingy?”

Keigo’s grin returned, softer this time, still lazy with sleep. “Only when the company’s good.”

Touya rolled his eyes again, but it was weaker this time. His chest still felt tight, his arm still hadn’t moved. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, didn’t know why he was still lying here when every part of him screamed that he should’ve left the second Keigo’s head hit the pillow.

But then Keigo shifted closer, wings brushing against him, and Touya’s body made the choice for him. He didn’t move away. Didn’t want to.

The morning light crept slowly through the blinds, cutting stripes across the sheets. The room smelled faintly of smoke and fire, warm and grounding.

Touya didn’t know how long they lay there.

Minutes, maybe. Long enough for the haze of sleep to start burning off, for his thoughts to sharpen until they were a little too sharp. Long enough to realize he hadn’t shifted away, hadn’t done anything but let Keigo stay pressed against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The blinds let in more light now, pale gold spilling across the floorboards. Dust floated in the air, faint specks catching the glow. Keigo’s breathing had evened out again, but he wasn’t asleep, Touya could tell. His fingers still brushed absently against Touya’s shirt, just enough movement to be intentional.

Finally, Touya exhaled, long and slow, and muttered, “We should get up before this gets pathetic.”

Keigo tilted his head up, eyes half-lidded and lazy. “You calling me pathetic, or yourself?”

Touya gave him a flat look, though his lips twitched at the edges. “Both.”

Keigo chuckled, quiet and warm. He pushed himself up, wings shifting wide before folding neatly behind him again, shaking out feathers that brushed against the sheets. He stretched, arms overhead, shirt riding up just enough to show a strip of skin at his stomach. His grin was crooked when he caught Touya’s eyes flicking away. “You’re staring again.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Touya said, swinging his legs off the bed. His voice was sharper than he meant, but Keigo only laughed again, rolling his shoulders like he hadn’t heard it.

The apartment felt different in daylight. Last night it had been shadows and lamplight, too clean, too staged. Now, sunlight cut through, softer but no less revealing. It made the lack of personal touches more obvious, the bare dresser, the unmarked walls, the sterile neatness of someone who didn’t know how to make a place their own.

Touya shoved the thought aside. He’d talk to Keigo about that later. Keigo padded toward the kitchen with an ease Touya didn’t understand, barefoot and careless, wings trailing behind him like he forgot they took up space. He called back over his shoulder, voice casual, “You eat breakfast, or you just run on caffeine and nicotine?”

Touya dragged a hand through his hair, following reluctantly. “What the hell do you think?”

Keigo threw him a look over his shoulder, amused. “So coffee and smokes. Figures. I’m still going to make you food though.” He opened a cabinet with a feather, wings moving as naturally as his hands. “Lucky for you, I’ve got actual food.”

Touya leaned against the counter, watching him move. “What, cereal?”

“Wow, such little faith,” Keigo said, mock-offended. He set a carton of eggs on the counter, grabbed bread, then a pan. “I can cook.”

Touya raised a brow, skeptical. “Sure you can.”

Keigo smirked. “I cooked well last time we stayed over at yours though, didn’t I?”

Touya didn’t answer, but he didn’t move either. He lit a cigarette instead, the flame sparking blue at his fingertip. He inhaled deep, the familiar burn filling his lungs, smoke curling into the air between them. Keigo shot him a look but didn’t comment, just cracked an egg with one hand like it was nothing.

The smell of butter hit the air, eggs sizzling against the pan. Toast popped a few minutes later, and Keigo hummed under his breath while he worked, some half-tune that Touya didn’t recognize. It was too domestic. Too normal. Touya didn’t like how it settled in his chest, warm and dangerous.

He flicked ash into the sink, scowling faintly. “What, you’re trying to play house now?”

Keigo glanced at him, wings twitching, then shrugged with a grin. “Why not? Don’t get many mornings off like this. Might as well pretend for a minute.”

Touya opened his mouth to snap something back, but his phone buzzed on the counter before he could. He frowned, dragging it closer with two fingers. The screen lit up, a notification banner bright at the top.

[Todoroki Family Chat 💬🔥❄️]

Touya almost snorted. Of course. He hadn’t opened that group chat in three weeks, and now suddenly it was blowing up. He thumbed the screen, and sure enough, there were dozens of unread messages.

Keigo leaned over just enough to glance, curiosity clear in the tilt of his head. “Family group chat? Cute.”

Touya shot him a glare, angling the phone away. “Mind your business.”

Keigo held up his hands, feathers twitching like they were laughing at him too. “Hey, I didn’t say anything.”

Touya grumbled under his breath, scrolling back through the messages from the week before.

——

[Friday]

Rei (1:03 PM):
Don’t forget your sister’s coming by this weekend.

Fuyumi (1:03 PM):
I’m bringing food!
Everyone better show up.

Natsuo (1:04 PM):
ill come if touya actually does
otherwise forget it

Shouto (1:04 PM):
You’re still coming either way.

Natsuo (1:04 PM):
u can’t tell me what to do

Rei (1:05 PM):
Both of you stop.

——

Touya huffed a laugh before he could help it. Same as always. He flicked down to the most recent string of messages, timestamped just a few minutes ago.

——

Fuyumi (8:01 AM):
Reminder that Dad’s supposed to speak at that event tonight.
Anyone else planning to watch?

Shouto (8:01 AM):
No.

Natsuo (8:01 AM):
hell no

Rei (8:01 AM):
Touya?

——

He stared at that last one, thumb hovering. He hadn’t answered any of them in weeks. Not unusual, sometimes he went longer. But something about seeing his name there, just hanging, made his chest pull tight.

He tapped out a reply before he could stop himself.

——

Touya (8:05 AM):
Not watching. Don’t care.

——

The dots appeared almost immediately.

——

Fuyumi (8:05 AM):
You never care.

Touya (8:05 AM):
Exactly.

——

There was another pause before a reply came through.

——

Natsuo (8:06 AM):
thought you were dead

Touya (8:06 AM):
You wish.

——

Keigo slid a plate onto the counter in front of him, eggs and toast steaming. He leaned one elbow against the counter, chin propped in his hand, eyes flicking to the phone again. “You’re smiling.”

“I’m not,” Touya said flatly, though the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

Keigo’s grin was sharp. “Yeah, you are.”

Touya ignored him, scrolling again as another message popped up.

——

Shouto (8:08 AM):
Are you on patrol today?

Touya (8:08 AM):
Later.
Some time in the afternoon.

Shouto (8:08 AM):
Then you should come by first.
Mom’s been wanting you to come round but she won’t message you about it.

——

Touya’s thumb stilled. He stared at the words until they blurred slightly. His throat worked, but he didn’t answer right away.

Keigo, for once, didn’t interrupt. He just dug into his own plate, quiet for once, though Touya could feel his gaze lingering.

Another buzz.

——

Rei (8:09 AM):
It would be nice to see you. Even if it’s just for a little while.

——

Touya swore under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair. He tapped the phone harder than necessary.

——

Touya (8:09 AM):
Fine. Maybe. Stop nagging.

——

The replies came quick, overlapping.

——

Fuyumi (8:10 AM):
Good! I’ll cook extra.

Natsuo (8:10 AM):
dont flake

Shouto (8:10 AM):
He probably will.

——

Touya dropped the phone face down on the counter with a groan. “They’re insufferable.”

Keigo’s wings twitched, amusement obvious. “You’re always mad when people care.”

“Yeah, well,” Touya muttered, stabbing at his breakfast with more force than necessary, “they shouldn’t.”

But he didn’t leave the chat unread this time. Didn’t mute it like he usually did. The screen stayed lit a moment longer before dimming, the family thread still open, waiting.

The eggs were good. Annoyingly good. He hated to admit it, but Keigo could actually cook.

Keigo smirked when he caught him eating without complaint. “Told you.”

Touya rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips were tugging upwards.

It was similar what Keigo had made last time. Not fancy, not anything worth writing home about, but good. Perfectly salted, yolks cooked just right, toast buttered evenly instead of half-burnt like Touya usually ended up with when he bothered at all.

They ate in relative quiet at first, the scrape of forks against plates the only sound aside from the faint hum of city traffic bleeding through the glass.

Keigo’s kitchen was spotless, too spotless, not a stray crumb or stain in sight, but the smell of breakfast made it feel less sterile. Almost like someone actually lived here, unlike how the rest of the place looked.

Keigo leaned one elbow on the counter, wings shifting lazily as he chewed. His eyes were brighter now, sleep worn off, but there was still a softness clinging to the edges that Touya wasn’t used to seeing in daylight. It made him look less like Hawks and more like someone else. Someone Keigo-shaped. Someone real.

Touya shoveled another forkful into his mouth, ignoring it.

Keigo swallowed, then tilted his head with a smirk. “See? Told you I could cook. You doubted me. Again.”

“You make scrambled eggs and suddenly you’re a chef?” Touya shot back, he tried to sound bored, but failed. His plate was also nearly empty already.

Keigo’s grin widened. “Admit it. You like it.”

Touya clicked his tongue, glancing down at his food. “It’s edible.”

“Edible, huh?” Keigo leaned closer, his voice dropping mockingly low. “That’s high praise coming from you.”

Touya didn’t bother answering. He lit another cigarette instead, letting the flame spark bright at his fingertip before settling into a steady ember. The first drag filled his lungs, familiar and grounding. He blew the smoke toward the ceiling, ignoring Keigo’s pointed cough.

“Really?” Keigo said, wrinkling his nose. “You’re gonna ruin my masterpiece with that stink?”

Touya smirked faintly around the cigarette. “What, you want me to congratulate you instead? Pin a medal on your stupid apron?”

Keigo looked down at his plain t-shirt, mock-offended. “You think I own an apron? What kind of domestic fantasy are you running in that head of yours, hot stuff?”

Touya flicked ash into the sink, muttering, “One where you shut up.”

Keigo laughed, the sound bright and unbothered. His wings rustled behind him, catching the sunlight in crimson arcs. “You’d miss it if I did.”

Touya didn’t answer, because he wasn’t entirely sure that was wrong.

The quiet stretched again, more comfortable this time. They both ate, Keigo slower than Touya, savoring every bite like he didn’t get mornings like this often. Touya pretended not to notice, though he found himself watching too, his grin softer now, the way Keigo’s wings shifted when he relaxed. It was too easy to forget the rest of the world when it was just the two of them in this kitchen, smoke curling lazily in the air and sunlight cutting across the counters.

Then Touya’s phone buzzed again. He groaned, dragging it toward him, already knowing what it was. Sure enough, the family chat was lighting up again, banner after banner flooding the top of the screen.

[Todoroki Family Chat 💬🔥❄️]

Keigo leaned over, curious, but Touya angled it away before he could sneak a glance. “Really, Keigo. Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Keigo said cheerfully, sipping from a glass of water like he hadn’t just been caught nosing. “What’s the drama this time?”

Touya ignored him, thumb swiping through the flood of messages.

——

Enji (8:16 AM):
We’re having a family dinner tomorrow. You can all bring someone if you’d like.

Natsuo (8:16 AM):
finally
thought you’d never let us

Fuyumi (8:17 AM):
Oh, good! I’ll bring my girlfriend.

Shouto (8:17 AM):
…

Natsuo (8:17 AM):
WHAT

Rei (8:18 AM):
Fuyumi… you never told us you were seeing anyone?

Fuyumi (8:18 AM):
Sorry. I thought I did.

Touya (8:18 AM):
You didn’t.

——

Touya stared at the screen, blinking once. Of all the revelations to come out of this ridiculous family chat, this one knocked him sideways more than most. He wasn’t surprised that Fuyumi had someone, hell, she deserved it more than anyone, but the casual way she dropped it into the group like she’d mentioned it a hundred times before almost made him laugh.

Another message popped up before he could type.

——

Natsuo (8:18 AM):
HOW LONG

Fuyumi (8:19 AM):
A while. Don’t make it weird.

Shouto (8:19 AM):
Who is she?

Fuyumi (8:19 AM):
You’ll see tomorrow.

——

Touya huffed a laugh under his breath, tapping out a reply.

——

Touya (8:19 AM):
You’re all idiots.

——

The dots appeared instantly.

——

Natsuo (8:20 AM):
says the guy who vanished for three weeks

Shouto (8:20 AM):
Are you bringing someone?

Touya (8:20 AM):
No.

——

Keigo raised an eyebrow at the way Touya’s jaw clenched tighter over the phone. “What, too many people caring for your liking?”

“Keigo,” Touya sighed, flicking ash into the sink again.

Another message pinged, and this one made his stomach twist.

——

Enji (8:21 AM):
Touya, since you’re working with Hawks, you should bring him. The rest of the family should get to know your work partner. Besides, I work with him too occasionally, so he knows both of us.

——

Touya froze. His fingers went still on the phone, cigarette burning low between them. His throat felt tight all of a sudden, air caught sharp in his lungs.

Keigo must’ve noticed, because his teasing grin faded. “What’s wrong?”

Touya’s jaw clenched harder. He didn’t answer right away, just dropped the cigarette into the sink and ground it out with too much force. Then he shoved the phone toward Keigo, screen bright with the latest message.

Keigo read it, blinking once. His brows shot up, wings twitching faintly behind him. “Oh. Well, that’s… something.”

Touya dragged a hand through his hair, scowling at the counter. “Something stupid.”

“Your dad really knows how to kill a mood, huh?” Keigo leaned back against the counter, still staring at the screen. Then he laughed, sharp and disbelieving. “Guess that means I’m meeting the in-laws.”

Touya’s head snapped up, glare sharp. “Don’t call them that.”

Keigo smirked, unbothered. “What, too soon?”

“This is why I hate those family dinners. The old man always finds one way to ruin it,” Touya groaned, though the heat in his chest wasn’t entirely anger. More like… panic. His family thought that he and Keigo hated each other. They were supposed to think that. This was supposed to be safe, hidden, secret. No one needed to know what was really happening behind closed doors.

And now Enji was dragging Keigo right into the middle of it.

Touya muttered a curse under his breath. “This is a disaster.”

Keigo tilted his head, watching him. “Relax. They still think we can’t stand each other, right? We just keep up the act. Easy.”

Touya scoffed. “Easy for you. You’re used to pretending.”

Keigo’s smile faltered just slightly, but he covered it with a shrug. “So are you.”

The words hit harder than Touya expected, enough that he looked away, jaw tight.

His phone buzzed again.

——

Enji (8:23 AM):
I will send a message to Hawks inviting him. It’s decided.

——

Keigo’s own phone chimed a few moments later, and he pulled it out with a raised brow. “Speak of the devil.” He thumbed it open, scanning the message. “Yep. Your old man’s efficient, I’ll give him that.”

Touya groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “Unbelievable.”

Keigo laughed quietly, wings rustling like they were trying to shake off the tension. “Hey, look on the bright side. At least we’ll have fun making everyone uncomfortable.”

Touya glared at him from between his fingers, but it was more of a half-hearted glare. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah,” Keigo said easily, grin returning. “But you like me anyway.”

Touya didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Not when his chest was still knotted tight, not when his family’s words were still burning across the screen, not when Keigo’s grin made it all feel even more dangerous than it already was.

He lit another cigarette instead, letting the smoke curl between them like a shield.

Keigo didn’t stop smiling, and Touya couldn’t deny how much he liked that smile.

Chapter Text

Touya made sure to arrive late. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew damn well it was easier to slide into the mess once everyone was already seated, voices already buzzing, attention already scattered. Showing up on time only invited the spotlight, and if there was anything he hated more than sitting in the same room as Enji, it was Enji staring at him like he owed him something.

So he dragged his feet. Took the long way. Smoked one too many cigarettes outside the gates before finally snuffing his last out under his boot and slipping through the front door without knocking. It was the same house, still suffocating in its silence despite the warm lighting spilling through the entryway. It was the same place he’d grown up, a few bits were redesigned but it still carried the Todoroki weight, heavy and cold no matter how many windows Fuyumi cracked open to let air in.

Voices drifted from the dining room, overlapping in uneven tones. He caught Fuyumi’s laugh, Natsuo’s easy chatter, Shoto’s short responses, Rei’s soft hum. Enji’s baritone cut through all of it, steady and sharp. And threaded somewhere in between, a voice Touya knew too well, one he could pick out of a crowd without trying.

Keigo.

Touya’s jaw tightened. He rolled his shoulders back, fixing his scowl into place like armor, and finally stepped inside.

The dining room was bright, table already laid with dishes too neat to have been made by anyone but Rei and Fuyumi. Glasses half-filled, chopsticks set carefully across ceramic plates, steam rising from platters of food Touya didn’t bother identifying. He stood in the doorway long enough for everyone to notice.

“Touya,” Rei said first, gentle, relief curling her voice like she’d been holding her breath until now.

Fuyumi looked up from her seat beside Natsuo, smiling wide. “You made it!”

“Barely,” Natsuo muttered, though his grin softened the jab. Beside him sat a tall, broad-shouldered guy Touya didn’t recognise, probably one of Natsou’s college friends. Messy dark hair, awkward posture, a pair of glasses he kept pushing up his nose.

Enji didn’t bother smiling. “You’re late.”

Touya shrugged, slipping into the empty seat at the far end of the table. “Traffic.”

Keigo was already there, sitting across from Shoto and angled perfectly so his wings didn’t knock into anyone. He glanced up as Touya sat, golden eyes sparking with something sharp before twisting into a smirk that fit too well on his face.

“Well, look who decided to show,” Keigo said, voice dripping with mock annoyance. “Thought you’d chicken out.”

Touya shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Trust me, birdbrain, if I wanted to bail, I would’ve.”

The table shifted subtly, the family falling into familiar discomfort at the sight of the two of them bristling. It was exactly what Enji expected. Exactly what everyone expected. And Touya made sure to lean into it, jaw tight, glare steady, while Keigo leaned back with exaggerated ease, wings twitching like he couldn’t care less.

Perfect. The act was airtight.

Fuyumi broke the tension first, ever the peacekeeper. “Well, now that everyone’s here-”

“Not everyone,” Shoto interrupted quietly. His voice was calm, but his gaze flicked toward the empty seat beside Fuyumi.

Touya raised a brow, flicking ash from his imagination as if he had a cigarette in hand. “Don’t tell me your girlfriend’s imaginary.”

Fuyumi rolled her eyes, though a flush colored her cheeks. “She’s real. She’s just running late.”

Natsuo leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Girlfriend, huh? Still can’t believe you dropped that bomb in the group chat like it was nothing.”

Fuyumi’s blush deepened, but she smiled stubbornly. “I thought I told you already.”

“You didn’t,” Rei said softly, though there was no judgment in her voice, only fondness.

Enji’s gaze was steady, unreadable. “How long?”

“Long enough,” Fuyumi replied, pointed, daring him to press further.

Touya smirked faintly into his water glass. He couldn’t help it, Fuyumi had more backbone than most of them gave her credit for, especially when Enji was in the room.

The conversation shifted then, Natsuo pulling his friend (Hiroki, that was the name he finally offered) into introductions. Hiroki stumbled through polite bows, his words tripping over themselves, but Natsuo seemed comfortable enough beside him that Touya figured the guy must be solid.

Shoto didn’t mention anyone else, which wasn’t surprising. The kid probably intentionally didn’t bring anyone just to piss off the old man.

Through it all, Keigo played his part flawlessly. He leaned into every interaction like it was effortless, charming Rei with light conversation, cracking jokes that made Fuyumi laugh, even managing to get a grunt of amusement out of Natsuo’s friend.

When Enji asked about work, Keigo’s answers were polished but not rehearsed, carefully threaded with just enough professionalism to pass.

And whenever Touya opened his mouth, Keigo was there to counter it, needling him, baiting him, the same tired routine they’d been performing for weeks. It was infuriatingly seamless.

Touya hated how good they were at it. Half an hour in, the sound of the front door opening carried down the hall.

Everyone turned, conversation pausing.

“Sorry I’m late!” a voice called, strong and brash and immediately familiar.

Touya blinked. He knew that voice. He knew it too well.

The dining room door swung wider, and there she was, Rumi Usagiyama, better known to the public as Mirko, pro hero, loudmouth, and, apparently, Fuyumi’s girlfriend.

For a moment, the table was dead silent.

Rumi stood there with her usual confidence, ears twitching, a grin sharp enough to cut steel. She wore casual clothes instead of her costume, but her presence filled the room like she’d just kicked down a villain’s lair. Her eyes swept the table, landing on Fuyumi with something startlingly soft before she dropped into the empty seat beside her and stole a piece of tempura off her plate without hesitation.

Touya almost choked on his drink.

Natsuo gawked, pointing like a kid. “YOU?!”

Shoto’s brows shot up higher than Touya had ever seen them. Rei pressed her hand gently over her mouth. Even Enji’s eyes widened a fraction, which was about as close to shock as the man ever got.

Fuyumi, bless her, only smiled like this was perfectly normal. “Everyone, this is Rumi. Rumi, this is… well, you know.”

Rumi winked. “Nice to finally meet the fam.”

Touya couldn’t stop staring. Not because he didn’t think Fuyumi could pull someone like Rumi, hell, she deserved someone exactly like her, but because the universe had apparently decided to throw the most chaotic twist possible into this dinner.

And then, of course, Keigo laughed. Loud and genuine, shoulders shaking, wings twitching behind him as he slapped the table.

“Of course,” he wheezed, grin splitting his face. “Of course it’s you.”

Rumi looked up, spotting him across the table, and her grin widened. “Kei! No way they roped you into this too.”

Touya’s stomach dropped.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath, too quiet for anyone around the table to hear.

But Keigo was already leaning forward, grinning like a fool. “What can I say? Family bonding time. You know how it is.”

Rumi barked a laugh, clapping Keigo’s shoulder. “Hell yeah, I do.”

The table buzzed again, voices rising with shock and questions, everyone trying to catch up with the revelation. No one noticed the way Touya gripped his glass tighter, knuckles white, or the way Keigo’s smirk flickered with something softer when Rumi turned back to Fuyumi, eyes lighting with something that looked a lot like pride.

Touya took a long drag of air, wishing it were smoke instead, and braced himself.

He was already preparing for how much of a nightmare this dinner was going to be.

The room didn’t settle quickly after Rumi dropped herself into a chair and stole food like she’d lived there her whole life. For a solid ten minutes, the table buzzed with overlapping voices, disbelief thick in the air as everyone tried to reconcile Fuyumi, sweet Fuyumi, the elementary teacher, with Rumi Usagiyama, pro hero, blunt, brash, and anything but subtle.

Touya sat back, chewing slow, letting the chaos roll past him like wind in a storm. He didn’t have to do much since nobody was looking at him, not when they had the spectacle of Fuyumi’s girlfriend to pick apart. For once, his lateness had worked out in his favor; he could fade into the background, only piping up when someone dragged him into the spotlight.

“What the hell, Fuyumi?” Natsuo demanded again, leaning across the table like he still couldn’t quite believe it. “You’re dating Mirko and you just… forgot to tell us?”

Fuyumi, poised as ever, smiled with patience that didn’t waver despite the way her ears were glowing red. “I told you I was seeing someone. I thought you’d figured it out.”

“You said you were seeing ‘someone,’ not Japan’s top-five pro hero,” Natsuo shot back, flinging his chopsticks down with a clatter.

Rumi grinned, leaning into the chaos like it fed her. “What, you don’t think your sister could bag a catch?”

Natsuo spluttered, “That’s not what I- no, that’s exactly what I mean! How did this happen?”

“Gym,” Rumi said simply, snatching another piece of food before Fuyumi gently swatted at her hand. “She left work at the same time I left the gym. We kept bumping into each other. One thing led to another.”

Touya raised an eyebrow. “Fuyumi, I thought your standards would’ve been higher.”

Rumi pointed her chopsticks at him like they were a weapon. “Don’t be jealous, fireball.”

Touya smirked faintly, letting the jab roll off. It was easier to deal with Rumi than most people, she threw punches fast and clean, no passive-aggressive edge, no undercurrent of pity. Just blunt force. He could respect that.

Across from him, Keigo snorted into his drink, wings twitching. “Should’ve known. You never could resist showing off your leg day routine.”

“Shut it, birdbrain.” Rumi grinned sharper, ears twitching as her eyes cut toward him. “You’re just jealous I actually have the time to date.”

Keigo leaned back, smirking. “What can I say? I’m a busy man.”

Touya clenched his jaw around a mouthful of rice, staring hard at his plate. Of course they were best friends, he knew that already. But watching the two of them banter so easily across the table, like they’d been doing it for years, was… irritating. Not because he thought Rumi was a threat, she was too busy mooning over his sister to care, but because Keigo looked happy. Genuinely relaxed, lit up in a way he didn’t let himself be when the spotlight was on him. And Touya hated that it had to happen here, where Touya couldn’t touch him, couldn’t soften the edges of that smile with his own hands.

“So,” Rei finally cut in, gentle but firm enough to cut through the noise. She’d been quiet most of the night, watching with that serene, steady gaze of hers. “How long have you two been together?”

Fuyumi reached for her water, meeting Rei’s eyes with a soft smile. “Almost a year now.”

That earned another round of exclamations. Natsuo groaned into his hands. Shoto blinked, unreadable but clearly processing. Hiroki, the poor guy caught in the middle of this circus, looked like he wanted to sink into the floor.

“A year?” Natsuo’s voice pitched high. “You’ve been keeping Mirko in your pocket for a year?”

Rumi snorted. “Relax, kid. She wasn’t hiding me, she just… didn’t think it mattered, I guess.”

“It matters,” Natsuo insisted, still flailing. “You can’t just drop this on us like- like a nuke at dinner!”

“It’s fine,” Enji said suddenly, his voice carrying over the table. It was the first time he’d spoken since the reveal, and it snapped everyone’s attention. “If she’s happy, that’s all that matters.”

The words sat heavy in the room. Not because they were cruel, if anything, they were shockingly reasonable, but because they came from him.

Fuyumi’s expression softened, touched in a way Touya didn’t like watching. “Thank you, Dad.”

Touya stabbed at his food, bitterness burning at the back of his throat. Enji didn’t get points for managing the bare minimum. He didn’t get to smile and nod like a normal father. Not after everything.

Keigo’s eyes flicked toward him, sharp and brief, like he could read every word Touya didn’t say. Touya ignored it, chewing slow, keeping his scowl firmly in place.

Conversation picked up again, winding between safer topics. Hiroki found his voice enough to talk about his university program, fumbling through explanations of engineering projects until Natsuo swooped in to translate his rambling into something coherent.

Shoto offered small comments here and there, mostly to Hiroki, though occasionally his gaze wandered back to Rumi like he was still trying to piece her existence into his world.

Rumi didn’t seem to mind the attention. She laughed loud, told stories from patrol that skirted the line of classified, and nudged Fuyumi’s hand under the table (they acted like no one could see, but it was painfully obvious) like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Fuyumi, for her part, looked… radiant. Relaxed in a way Touya hadn’t seen her in years, her eyes lit from the inside out. If Touya were less stubborn, he might’ve admitted it made his chest loosen a little, seeing her happy. She deserved it.

Instead, he focused on pushing rice around his plate.

“So,” Rumi said eventually, turning toward Keigo with a grin that made Touya’s teeth ache. “What about you, featherbrain? You seeing anyone?”

The table perked up instantly, like sharks catching the scent of blood. Touya froze, chopsticks pausing midair.

Keigo didn’t flinch. He just smirked, lazy and practiced. “Me? Nah. Who’s got time for that? Too busy babysitting this guy.” He jerked a thumb at Touya.

Touya shot him a glare sharp enough to kill. “Don’t drag me into your excuses.”

“Please,” Keigo drawled, wings shifting casually. “Half my week is just cleaning up your messes.”

The table chuckled, tension broken, everyone falling back into the comfortable assumption that the two of them hated each other. It was a relief, in its own twisted way, to see how easily the act held. No suspicion. No cracks.

Touya slouched back, letting the noise wash over him, every muscle tight with the effort of keeping still. He hated how good Keigo was at lying with a smile. Hated how much he wanted to drag him out of the room, press him against a wall, and remind him exactly who he belonged to.

Instead, he shoveled another bite of food into his mouth and said nothing. Dinner stretched on. Plates emptied, dishes passed around, laughter spilling easier as the weight of the reveal settled into something more normal. Rei asked Rumi gentle questions about her family, her work, her favorite foods.

Natsuo kept poking fun at Fuyumi, though his grin betrayed how much he was secretly thrilled. Hiroki loosened up enough to tell a story about a failed lab experiment, complete with hand gestures and sound effects, which earned him genuine laughs from the table. Even Shoto cracked the smallest smile, though it vanished as quickly as it came.

Through it all, Touya stayed quiet, adding the occasional dry comment when necessary. He didn’t need to draw attention. The less anyone looked at him, the easier it was to keep his mask in place.

When the last dishes were nearly picked clean, Rei folded her hands neatly on the table, looking around at her children with soft pride. “Thank you all for being here tonight. It’s been… wonderful.”

Her voice carried a weight Touya felt in his bones. A fragile, careful hope. Like she was daring to believe they could all sit at one table without breaking. It made something twist sharp in his chest. He looked away, jaw tight, as Keigo’s wing brushed against the back of his chair in the smallest, subtlest shift. No one else noticed. Touya did. It steadied him, even as it burned.

Plates scraped and glasses emptied, the food was gone, but no one moved yet, the table still heavy with conversation and unspoken currents. Touya leaned back, arms crossed, eyes hooded. Dinner was over, but the night wasn’t. Not by a long shot.

Conversation around him was tapering off into little offshoots, Natsou and Hiroki arguing about some engineering concept no one else cared about, Rumi teasing Fuyumi about drinking water like it was wine, Shoto poking at his empty glass like it might refill if he stared long enough. Touya had sat there through it, arms crossed, smirk sharp, letting the noise blur into white static until it got too heavy to breathe.

He excused himself with a mumble about ‘going to see his old room’ that no one challenged. If they noticed he headed for the stairs instead of the front door, they didn’t say.

The old wood creaked under his boots as he climbed, muscle memory pulling him down a hall he hadn’t walked in a decade. His fingers brushed the wall once, paint chipped, faint grooves where frames used to hang. The closer he got, the louder the echo of his own footsteps sounded, like a ghost haunting a house that had already burned.

His old room was smaller than he remembered. The bed shoved against the wall, the faint outline where posters had once clung before fire peeled them away, the window cracked at the corner where he’d thrown something too hard, probably a book, maybe his own fist. It smelled faintly of dust and wood polish, like the years had swallowed his presence whole and left nothing behind.

Touya sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floorboards. He wasn’t sentimental, not really. He didn’t care about nostalgia or what-ifs. But being here now, in this house, in this room, hell, it scraped something raw inside him whether he wanted it to or not.

The door creaked open a moment later and Keigo slipped in, feather-light despite the mess of wings trailing behind him. His voice was casual, but his eyes sharp, scanning Touya like he always did. “Told them I was going to the bathroom. Didn’t think you’d sneak off without me.”

Touya huffed a laugh, low and humorless. “Didn’t think you’d notice.”

“I always notice,” Keigo said simply, closing the door with a soft click.

For a beat, they just looked at each other. The air felt thicker here, heavier, like the walls still hummed with old heat. Touya didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to feel it. He wanted something else, something sharp and grounding to cut through the burn.
So he stood, crossed the room in two strides, fisted a hand in Keigo’s shirt and shoved him back until his shoulders hit the wall with a muffled thud.

Keigo’s grin flickered, sharp and dangerous, before softening into something hungrier. “Couldn’t even wait until we left the house?”

Touya didn’t bother answering. His mouth crushed against Keigo’s, teeth clashing, heat spilling between them as he pressed forward, all fire and demand. Keigo gave way easily, one hand gripping Touya’s shoulder, the other threading into his hair, pulling him closer like he couldn’t get enough. It was frantic, messy, the kind of kiss that scraped teeth and left bruises blooming in its wake. Touya shoved his thigh between Keigo’s legs, pinning him harder, dragging a gasp out of him that went straight to Touya’s chest and made his heart beat faster.

The bed creaked when Touya shoved Keigo onto it, climbing over him with the kind of desperate energy that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with escape. Keigo’s wings sprawled wide, feathers rustling, one fluttering loose and wrapping around Touya’s wrist as he pressed his mouth to Keigo’s neck, biting just enough to leave a mark.

Keigo groaned, breathless, eyes half-lidded. “You’re insane, you know that?”

Touya smirked against his skin. “You like it.”

Keigo’s laugh cut off into a gasp when Touya ground down against him, slow and rough. “Okay, maybe I do.”

Every other noise around them was drowned out under their focus on each other. Touya couldn’t hear anything around them. Not over the pounding in Touya’s ears, not over the heat pressing against him, not over Keigo’s low, breathy laugh in his mouth.

“Uh.”

The single syllable sliced the room in half.

Touya froze. Slowly, painfully slowly, he turned his head toward the doorway. Natsuo stood there, mouth open, eyes wide like he’d just walked into the scene of a murder. Except instead of blood, it was Touya straddling Keigo on a bed, shirts rumpled, lips swollen.

Behind him, Shoto leaned around his shoulder, blinking blankly at the tableau. “Oh,” Shoto said, voice flat as ever.

Touya’s brain short-circuited. His entire body screamed to move, fix it, deny it, but his limbs refused to obey. Keigo, ever the menace, had the audacity to grin, lips still red, hair mussed, looking like sin incarnate.

“Uh,” Natsuo said again, higher-pitched this time.

Before Touya could yell at them, another voice chimed in from the hall.

“What’s going on?”

And then Fuyumi was there too, squeezing past them to look inside.
Her eyes landed on the bed. On Touya. On Keigo. On Touya on Keigo.

She froze and the silence that followed was deafening.

Touya finally found his voice. “Close the fucking door.”

Natsuo blinked furiously. “Oh my god.”

Shoto tilted his head. “Are you two… dating?”

Keigo, traitor that he was, chuckled low in his throat. “Depends on what you saw.”

“Keigo,” Touya snapped, shoving at his chest, which only pushed him further into the bed.

“What?” Keigo lifted his hands innocently. “They already caught us. Might as well lean in.”

Natsuo slapped a hand over his face. “I- oh my god, I need bleach. I need to bleach my eyes.”

Fuyumi made a strangled noise, halfway between a laugh and a gasp. “You—you two—” She covered her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking. “Oh my god.”

Touya shoved off Keigo, dragging a hand through his hair, glaring at all three of them like he could set them on fire by willpower alone. “Not. A. Word.”

Natsuo pointed wildly, still reeling. “You’ve been- this whole time- you hate each other!”

“Convincing, wasn’t it?” Keigo said smoothly, lounging back on the bed like he hadn’t just been caught with Touya’s tongue down his throat.

Fuyumi finally dropped her hand, laughter spilling out. “Oh my god, it makes so much sense now!”

“It does not!” Natsuo squawked.

Shoto just blinked again, expression unreadable. “So you’re together.”

“Yes,” Touya snapped, then winced at how harsh it came out. He exhaled hard, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I don’t care what you think, but if any of you breathe a word of this to anyone-”

“We’re telling Mom,” Natsuo blurted immediately.

“You’re not telling Mom,” Touya growled.

“She’s gonna find out eventually!”

“Not from you.”

Fuyumi waved her hands quickly, still smiling. “We won’t say anything. Right? Right, boys?”

Shoto nodded. “I don’t care.”

Natsuo groaned, scrubbing his face. “Fine. Fine! I won’t say anything. But you two- god, I can’t unsee that.”

“You’ll live,” Touya muttered, crossing his arms.

Keigo stretched his wings lazily, grinning like this was the best entertainment he’d had in weeks. “Honestly, I was wondering how long we could keep it up. Guess the answer was ‘until someone forgets to lock the door.’”

Touya shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “You’re not helping.”

“Oh, I think I am.”

Fuyumi laughed again, shaking her head. “This is… wow. Okay. We’ll keep it secret. But, Touya? You owe me for not telling Mom.”

Touya groaned. “You’re all impossible.”

Natsuo pointed at him one last time, still horrified. “You better never traumatize me like that again.”

Touya smirked, sharp and unapologetic. “No promises.”

Chaos still buzzed in the room, but the deal was struck. Secret safe for now.

“I can’t un-see that,” Natsuo still seemed to be in shock.

Touya just rolled his eyes and headed towards the door, “Get over it.”

He ushered them towards the stairs, still scowling, and they went without saying much more.

Touya hated walking in a group. He hated the sound of too many footsteps in rhythm, hated the way his siblings clustered like sheep, hated that Keigo’s feathers rustled behind him like punctuation to every damn thing. But what he hated most in that exact moment was how obvious it felt, the five of them funneling back down the stairs together, like a parade of nothing happened, don’t look at us, everything’s fine.

Except apparently, everything was fine. The living room was still loud with conversation, the clink of glasses and the hum of laughter, Rumi’s booming voice carrying over everyone else’s like a drumbeat. Rei sat with her hands wrapped delicately around a teacup, smiling at something Hiroki was saying, her shoulders looser than Touya had seen in years. Enji was at the far end, posture stiff as ever, but he hadn’t scared anyone off yet.

No one looked up suspiciously when the five of them re-entered. No narrowed eyes, no raised brows, nothing to suggest they’d been caught committing social treason upstairs.

Touya exhaled, relieved and irritated all at once.

“Bathroom, my ass,” Natsuo muttered under his breath, glancing at Keigo, though only Touya heard.

Touya elbowed him in the ribs hard enough to earn a grunt, then slipped into the empty armchair at the side of the room. Keigo, of course, draped himself onto the arm of the same chair like he owned it, casual as ever, wings curled in neat and harmless at his back.

Touya gave him a sharp look but Keigo smiled like he’d just won something. Fuyumi scurried over to help Rei with the teapot, her laugh a little higher than usual, but no one batted an eye. Shoto sat in his usual way, quiet and rigid, like he was part of the furniture. Natsuo flopped into the couch beside Hiroki, rubbing at his face like he’d just seen war.

Touya smirked. Rumi was in the middle of a story when they returned, her grin sharp and wild. “-so then I told the guy, if you can’t handle a normal civilian kicking your teeth in, you sure as hell can’t handle me in a ring. He shut up pretty fast.”

Hiroki laughed, a warm sound that filled the room. “Did he actually back down?”

“Of course not,” Rumi snorted. “Puffed his chest up like a damn pigeon. I had to knock him on his ass twice before he got the picture. Men are slow learners.”

“Not all of them,” Rei said softly, though her lips curved with amusement.

“Most of them,” Rumi countered, smirking into her glass.

Keigo chuckled, leaning an elbow on the armrest Touya occupied. “She’s not wrong. I’ve seen enough of the Commission’s finest trip over their own egos trying to prove something that’s clearly untrue.”

“You trip over your own ego too,” Touya muttered.

“Yeah,” Keigo said easily, “but at least I look good doing it.”

Rumi snorted out a laugh, Rei hid a smile behind her teacup, and even Shoto’s mouth twitched like he might almost smile.

Touya rolled his eyes, but his chest eased. There was no suspicion. No questions. Just noise and warmth and the clatter of overlapping voices. Dinner had been heavy, the kind of weight that stuck to bones, but now that plates were cleared and stomachs full, the atmosphere loosened like someone had unknotted a rope.

“Tell me more about you and Natsuo,” Rei said gently, turning to Hiroki with that same calm curiosity she always carried. “I forgot to ask earlier, how did you two meet?”

Hiroki straightened, polite. “In lesson, ma’am. We both ended up in the same elective. He was late to the first class, stumbled in with coffee all over his notes, and sat beside me because it was the only open seat. We’ve been stuck with each other since.”

Natsuo groaned. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Not a chance,” Hiroki grinned. “You looked like a zombie. I wasn’t sure if I should talk to you or call an ambulance.”

Everyone laughed. Natsuo scowled, cheeks red.

Rei smiled, her eyes crinkling. “That sounds very much like Natsuo.”

Touya smirked at his brother. “Some things never change.”

“Shut up,” Natsuo muttered, though his mouth twitched at the corner.

Shoto spoke up, voice even. “You still do that. You spilled tea on your notes last week.”

Natsuo snapped his head toward him. “Why would you-“ He stopped, staring, then groaned again. “Oh my god. I hate all of you.”

Keigo leaned closer to Touya, voice pitched low enough only he could hear. “I like this guy. He’s got dirt on your brother already.”

Touya snorted, keeping his eyes forward. “You would.”

Conversations splintered from there. Rumi grilled Hiroki about his major, interrupting every answer with jokes that made him flustered but amused. Rei asked Shoto about his classes, nodding patiently through his concise, clinical answers. Fuyumi flitted between groups, keeping glasses topped off, her laugh bubbling like water whenever Rumi said something outrageous. Enji was quiet for the most part, occasionally adding a comment or two.

Touya stayed quiet, watching, but not in the way he used to, arms crossed, jaw tight, waiting for something to snap. This time it was different. His chest didn’t feel like a cage. He caught himself almost enjoying the noise.

Keigo didn’t shut up, of course. He slipped into every thread of conversation like he belonged there, joking with Rumi, teasing Natsuo, even managing to drag a smirk out of Enji at one point, though Touya suspected that was less amusement and more exasperation disguised as patience.

“You’ve been quiet,” Rei said softly at one point, her gaze settling on Touya. She wasn’t judging or demanding, just noticing him.

Touya shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Just listening.”

Her smile was small, but it reached her eyes. “That’s good too.”

Keigo elbowed him lightly, his grin hidden from everyone else. “See? Approved.” His voice was quiet enough that no one else picked up on it.

Touya shot him a look that promised violence but Keigo’s grin only widened. Natsuo and Hiroki eventually devolved into a debate about which campus cafeteria was worse, gesturing wildly as if the stakes were life or death. Rumi heckled them both, shouting over the top with her own opinions about terrible food, dragging Shoto into it by asking which of their school meals he hated most.

Shoto, deadpan, replied, “All of them.”

That sent Fuyumi into another fit of laughter, Rei into a soft giggle, and even Enji coughed into his fist like he couldn’t quite hold back.

The room hummed like that for a long while, full of warmth Touya had never thought he’d see in this house again.

Eventually, the talk shifted to lighter things, like vacations they’d never taken, movies Rumi had half-watched and narrated over, Hiroki’s stories about professors who forgot their own lectures. Natsuo tried to drag Touya into a debate about the best place to get ramen in the city, and Touya surprised even himself by actually answering, deadpan, that all of Natsuo’s favorite spots were trash.

Natsuo sputtered, Hiroki laughed, and Keigo nearly fell off the armrest trying to egg Touya on.

It was normal. It was so damn normal Touya almost didn’t recognize it. No one asked why they’d all gone upstairs separately and come back downstairs together. No one else looked at Touya or Keigo with suspicion, and Shoto, Natsuo, and Fuyumi were keeping their promise.

The noise filled every crack in the room, spilling into the corners, settling into the bones of the house in a way Touya had never thought possible.

For once, it didn’t feel like suffocating, it felt like breathing. And Touya, against every stubborn part of himself, let it happen.

Chapter Text

The night felt quieter when Touya finally made it back to his place later that night after the dinner with his family. It was quieter in that way that carried weight, silence pressing down like a too-thick blanket. He shoved the door shut behind him with his shoulder, the click of the lock settling in like punctuation at the end of a sentence.

For all the chaos that dinner had turned into, his apartment still smelled faintly of smoke and the faintest tang of cheap detergent. It was his. He knew he could afford so much better, but it felt more comforting being there. No voices bleeding through the walls, just silence.

He toed his boots off, shrugged out of his jacket, and let it fall wherever it landed. A crumpled pack of cigarettes were stuffed in his pocket, and he didn’t bother sitting before he pulled one free. The flick of a flame he summoned to the tip of his finger caught the shadows just right, flame bright against the muted glow of the city outside. First inhale burned his lungs, sharp and grounding. He sank into the battered chair by the window and let the smoke curl out of his mouth in slow rings.

Touya was used to how the cigarette smoke felt in his lungs, and he knew he should cut down on how much he smoked, but it was easier said than done. It was the way his hands stilled, the way the bitter tang cut through the leftover noise in his head.

Dinner had been… chaos. That was the word. Chaotic. He could still hear Natsuo’s strangled yelling, see Fuyumi’s laugh cracking wide open when she’d realized what she’d walked in on, Shoto’s flat “oh” echoing in his skull like it was somehow the funniest thing in the world. He dragged in another inhale, jaw tight, because the whole thing had been a fucking nightmare and yet his chest wasn’t heavy the way it usually was. The mess had cracked something open in the house. For once, the noise hadn’t been suffocating.

Smoke curled against the windowpane as he exhaled, his gaze unfocused on the scatter of city lights. He could almost trick himself into thinking the night was over, that he’d settle into the calm until he fell asleep and not think about the fact that his siblings now had ammo against him. Not think about Keigo sprawled on his old bed, grinning like he’d planned the whole thing, wings spread wide, lips red from kissing. Not think about how easily Keigo had laughed along with everything, like the whole world was just another joke to him.

Touya dragged the cigarette down to the ashtray, tapped the end against the glass. He didn’t have to think about it. He didn’t. Except his brain was wired wrong and Keigo had carved his way into all the empty spaces, so of course he thought about it. About him. About the stupid way his smirk flickered soft when no one else was looking, about how his wing brushed Touya’s chair just long enough to steady him. About the way he’d leaned back, all teeth and trouble, and said, “Convincing, wasn’t it?”

Touya muttered a curse under his breath and lifted the cigarette to his lips again. It wasn’t going to help, but it gave his hands something to do. He sat in the chair for a long while, smoke clouding the air until it stung his eyes, letting the city’s hum dull out the leftover dinner noise. The cigarette burned down quick, leaving his fingertips faintly yellowed by the glow at the end, and his throat scratched raw. He was halfway through digging for a second when his phone buzzed against the arm of the chair.

Touya frowned, fishing it out of his pocket. A message lit the screen, and the name “Keigo” showed up in glowing letters.

The smoke caught hard in his chest, and he exhaled rough before thumbing the message open.

——

Keigo (11:48 PM):
u up?

——

Touya’s scowl deepened. Of course he was up, he always was after all. Before he could reply, another bubble popped up.

——

Keigo (11:48 PM):
come over

——

He’d seen Keigo a few hours ago at the dinner. What could he need him for now? His fingers hovered over the screen, ash trembling loose from the half-finished cigarette between them. That wasn’t Keigo’s usual way of saying “hey, I’m bored, distract me”. It was clipped and short. No smirk hidden in the words. Touya’s gut tightened, he felt like something was off.

——

Touya (11:49 PM):
Why?

——

The dots blinked, disappeared, then came back.

——

Keigo (11:49 PM):
just come
please

——

Touya’s stomach sank lower as he read the message, because Keigo didn’t please. Not unless he was messing around or… something was wrong. He shoved the cigarette packet back in his pocket, grabbed for his boots, tugging them back on with sharp movements. His jacket came next, shrugged over his shoulders before the cold could creep under his skin. He fished his keys out of his pocket with one hand, phone clutched tight in his other hand.

He stared at the screen one more second, thumb hovering like he might press for more information. But if Keigo wanted to tell him through a message, he would have. The fact that he hadn’t meant it was bad enough that he needed Touya in person. That thought alone was enough to get him moving.

His apartment felt smaller as he crossed it, shadows pressing in around him. He flicked off the lamp near the chair, the room sinking into dim half-light. His cigarette stub still smoldered in the ashtray, faint smoke curling like a ghost. Touya hesitated, glancing once at the window and the streetlights beyond, then back down to his phone. Another message blinked across the screen as he reached for the doorknob.

——

Keigo (11:51 PM):
hurry

——

That sealed it. He didn’t waste time locking up more than necessary, twisting the bolt quick and sharp. His footsteps thudded against the floor as he strode toward the hall. Cigarette smoke still clung to his clothes, and the smell of ash was clear, but he didn’t care. His chest was tight in a way that had nothing to do with nicotine and everything to do with the one person who’d asked him to come.

The building of the hallway smelled faintly of dust and stale air, the kind that clung no matter how many times the landlord promised he’d fix the vents. His boots echoed louder against the cracked linoleum as he shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets, shoulders hunched against the draft.

He didn’t bother with the elevator; it was a death trap on its best day. Instead he took the stairs, footsteps heavy and steady, each one a beat against the churn in his chest.
Keigo’s text glowed in his pocket like a brand. Hurry. That was all. No jokes, no smirks wrapped in words, no winged sarcasm to soften the edge. Just hurry, which meant trouble. Touya didn’t like the way his stomach twisted around it.

He lit a cigarette at the bottom of the stairwell, flame sharp in the dark, pulling in smoke like it might slow the thoughts clawing at the back of his throat. It didn’t, so he walked faster hoping that would distract him instead.

Outside, the city air cut colder than he expected, slicing sharp down the back of his neck where his collar gaped. The streets hummed with the usual late-night buzz, distant traffic, a siren wailing far off, voices spilling from a bar a block away, but Touya’s focus tunneled in tight, his boots carrying him forward automatically. He’d done the walk to Keigo’s place more than once, though not often and usually at odd hours, usually with a cigarette already half-burned between his fingers. This felt different. The urgency pressed down, humming under his skin.

He dragged long on the cigarette and let the smoke curl out past his teeth. What the hell happened? He could think of a dozen things, all of them bad. Maybe Keigo had run into trouble with the Commission again. Maybe some assignment had gone sideways. Maybe someone had said something at dinner that stuck too deep, though that didn’t explain the clipped texts. Touya’s chest tightened at the idea that it might be something worse.

He shook his head, muttering under his breath. “Don’t start.” Overthinking wouldn’t get him anywhere. Keigo was alive enough to send messages so that was something. Still, the word please echoed sharp in his skull, and Touya hated the way it made him walk faster.

The streets blurred by, neon lights buzzed overhead, and pale reflections shimmering in the wet pavement. His cigarette burned down quick, ash flicking onto the ground with each sharp tap of his fingers. He tossed the butt into the gutter when it bit too close to his knuckles and immediately lit another. He needed the distraction, the burn in his throat, the ritual of it. The lighter clicked, flame catching, and smoke curled again, grounding him just enough.

Maybe he’s hurt. The thought slid in uninvited, cold against the inside of his ribs. Hawks was a magnet for trouble, half of it intentional, half of it because he couldn’t resist throwing himself into messes headfirst. Touya pictured him bloody, wings bent, calling out with that same damn grin plastered on even as he bled. His jaw tightened. If the Commission had shoved him into something reckless, if they’d pushed too far- Touya ground the thought out with another drag of smoke, exhaling hard. He didn’t need to play the what-if game. He’d find out soon enough. Besides, Keigo said he was going straight home after the dinner, there was no reason for him to be talking to the Commission this late.

The walk stretched, each block longer than it should’ve been, though his pace never slowed. He cut through side streets, familiar shortcuts carved into muscle memory. His boots splashed through shallow puddles, reflections of red and gold lights rippling outward. His mind kept circling, no matter how much he tried to force it still. What if it’s nothing? a smaller voice muttered, bitter. What if he just wants company and decided to yank your chain about it? That was just like Keigo, too, bait him with urgency and then laugh when Touya showed up scowling at his door.

But then he thought about the message again, about the absence of any smirk in the words. Keigo didn’t say please. Not unless he meant it, and so that shut down the possibility of it being a joke almost immediately. Touya cursed under his breath and shoved his free hand deeper into his pocket, smoke stinging his eyes as he walked. The night air couldn’t cut sharp enough to clear the coil in his chest.

Touya had walked another block before he’d realised it. His cigarette had almost burned to the filter and he was tempted to just flick it away, and light a third before the bitter aftertaste could settle too thick on his tongue. He barely tasted it anymore. His head buzzed, but it didn’t slow the thoughts. What if someone had caught onto them earlier tonight? People had been busy talking, sure, but Keigo had perched close enough, wings brushing Touya’s arm, smirks sharper than they should’ve been.

And what if someone outside the family had seen? Reporters had a way of sniffing out secrets, and if word got back to the Commission- Touya’s shoulders bunched, teeth grinding around the filter. No. If that had been it, Keigo wouldn’t have just said “come over”, he’d have sent warnings. Instructions. He’d have been clear, but this was different.

Touya dragged the smoke deep into his lungs and exhaled hard, watching it curl white in the glow of the streetlights. His chest was tight, restless energy sparking in his veins. He needed to move faster. His boots hit the pavement louder as he turned the next corner, nearly clipping a trash can with his shoulder. The night swallowed him whole, shadows clinging at the edges of his vision, but he didn’t care. His focus narrowed in on the path ahead, every turn etched into his brain.

He thought about the way Keigo had looked at him when they were alone in Touya’s old room, about the grin that slipped into something softer when no one else was paying attention. About how his wings had brushed Touya’s chair like it was nothing, like it was habit. Touya’s throat worked around the smoke, something twisting sharp under his ribs. If Keigo was hurt, if someone had gotten too close, if the Commission had leaned too hard-. Touya shook his head again, harder this time, like he could shove the thoughts out through sheer force. They weren’t facts, they weren’t real until he saw them. He repeated it like a mantra, cigarette glowing bright as he sucked down another drag.

A group of drunks spilled out of a bar as he passed, their laughter loud, too bright against the quiet thrum of the street. One of them bumped into his shoulder and Touya shot him a glare sharp enough to cut. The guy muttered something under his breath but stumbled away before Touya had the chance to yell at him. He kept walking, smoke trailing behind him, boots steady. The noise faded quick, leaving him alone with the hum of traffic again. Alone with his thoughts.

What if it’s personal? That thought crept in slower, quieter, like it wanted to stick. Keigo had a way of laughing through things until he cracked, until the weight bled through the corners. Touya had seen it before, brief flashes between the smirks. Maybe tonight was one of those times, maybe it wasn’t blood or danger but something else that had pushed him to text. Something he couldn’t laugh off, couldn’t shove down. Touya’s chest tightened again, but different this time. It wasn’t panic but it was something heavier. He wasn’t good at comfort and he definitely wasn’t good at softness, but if Keigo needed him, well, he’d show up.

His cigarette burned too fast, stub ground under his boot before he lit the next. Third one in the past few hours, maybe fourth. He didn’t care. Smoke filled his lungs, settled into the cracks of his chest, gave him something to focus on besides the restless hum in his head. He kept walking, eyes flicking up to the taller buildings crowding closer as he neared Keigo’s place. The city always pressed in more here, brighter lights, more windows, the hum of traffic thicker. He knew the path by heart. He’d walked it enough times to do it blind.

His phone buzzed in his pocket again, sharp against his leg, and he pulled it out quickly, thumb swiping across the screen. There was another message from Keigo.

——

Keigo (12:11 AM):
r u almost here?

——

Touya exhaled smoke through his teeth, fingers tightening around the phone.

——

Touya (12:11 AM):
Yeah.

——

He hesitated for a moment before adding another message.

——

Touya (12:11 AM):
Five minutes.

——

He shoved the phone back in his pocket, his pace quickening without him even deciding to. Keigo was waiting, and whatever this was, it mattered. His thoughts spun tighter the closer he got. What if Keigo was sitting on the floor, wings trembling, blood on his hands? What if he was pacing holes into the carpet, trying to laugh it off but not managing? What if-? Touya bit down hard on the filter between his teeth, cutting the spiral short. He’d know soon enough, he just had to keep walking.

The streets blurred past, lights streaked against the smoke curling from his cigarette, shadows bending sharp against the pavement. His heartbeat thudded steady under his ribs, each step syncing with it, faster, faster. He didn’t care about the cold air or the damp creeping up through the soles of his boots. All he cared about was getting there. About seeing Keigo. About finding out what the hell was wrong.

By the time he reached the last corner, his cigarette was nearly ash. He flicked it away, sparks scattering against the wet ground, and dug for another. The blue flame lit up, bright in the dark, smoke curling fresh around his face. He inhaled deep, exhaled hard, shoulders squaring. Keigo’s place wasn’t far now, it was a few more minutes, maybe less if he kept up the pace. His chest buzzed with restless heat, but his stride never faltered.

Touya had managed to calm himself down a bit by the time he’d gotten to Keigo’s building. The stairwell up to Keigo’s place smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and takeout containers that had been left too long, the kind of stale apartment-block smell Touya was used to. He stomped his boots heavier than necessary, restless energy chewing at his stride. The buzz from the last cigarette clung to his lungs but didn’t do a damn thing to settle him.

When he reached the door, he paused for half a second, knuckles hovering in the air. His chest was tight. The glow of his lighter still burned behind his eyes, but the only thing he could really focus on was the memory of Keigo’s last text.

He knocked sharply on the door, and it was the kind of knock that demanded an answer. The sound echoed down the narrow hall, too loud in the late night quiet. He expected a pause. Expected the kind of delay that came with Keigo pulling himself together enough to answer with that usual grin. Instead the door handle rattled almost immediately, like he’d been waiting just behind it, and the door swung open.

And there Keigo was.

Touya blinked, throat catching around nothing. It had only been a few hours since dinner, but the difference was sharp. Keigo’s hair was mussed, wings half-dragging against the floor, feathers ruffled. His eyes were glassy, lids low, and his smile, if it could even be called that, was crooked in a way Touya hadn’t seen before. The smell hit first, alcohol, sharp and heavy, clinging to him more than the faint scent of cologne ever did. Keigo leaned into the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping him up.

“You made it,” he slurred, voice rougher than usual, pitched low.

Touya stared. He knew that Keigo drank occasionally, but never enough to get drunk. He’d seen Keigo drinking at the hero gala they went to. But Touya had never seen him actually drunk. Not like this. Not swaying at the door, face flushed, words slurred together.

“What the fuck,” Touya muttered, more to himself than anything, but Keigo laughed like he’d been told a joke.

“C’mon,” Keigo said, stepping back and almost tripping over his own feet. His wing smacked lightly against the wall as he waved Touya in. “Don’t just stand there. Get in here.”

Touya’s gut twisted, but his boots moved anyway, carrying him past the threshold. The apartment was dim, a single lamp glowing in the corner. Empty bottles lined the counter, and there were more than just a few. Touya shut the door behind him, the click sharp against the muffled silence. His eyes flicked back to Keigo.

“You drunk?” he asked, voice flat.

Keigo grinned, wobbly. “What gave it away?” He stumbled toward the couch and dropped onto it, wings sprawling messy behind him. He rubbed a hand over his face, sighing out loud enough it scraped the room raw. “Didn’t think you’d come so fast.”

Touya shoved his hands into his pockets, watching him. “You said hurry.”

“Mm.” Keigo tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling like it had answers. His throat worked, a swallow slow and uneven. “Yeah. Guess I did.”

Silence settled heavy for a beat. Touya’s eyes landed on the bottles again, clear, amber, half-empty, scattered like he hadn’t cared where they landed. Keigo didn’t look like the type to let himself get this far gone. Controlled chaos, maybe, but not this.

Touya’s mouth pulled tight. “What the hell happened?”

Keigo laughed again, but it cracked halfway through, jagged. His hand dropped from his face, fell limp onto his knee. “Old ghosts,” he said, voice too loose, too raw. “Caught up all at once. Hate when that happens.”

Touya frowned. “Old ghosts?”

“Mmhm.” Keigo blinked slow, then looked at him finally. And something in his expression, the gloss in his eyes, the sag at the corners of his mouth, was different. Not the easy grin, not the mask Touya was used to seeing even when Keigo was bone-tired. This was something stripped down. Something sharp under all the blur.

“I ever tell you about my folks?” Keigo asked suddenly, words dragging like his tongue was heavy.

Touya stiffened. He shook his head. “No.”

Keigo let out a laugh that wasn’t a laugh, more of a puff of air that cracked sharp at the end. “Figures. I was gonna tell you a while back when we were talkin’ bout our pasts, but I think I forgot. It’s not a fun story. Not the kinda thing you bring up over dinner with… everyone, either.” He waved a hand, fingers fluttering clumsy. His wing twitched with the motion, feathers shifting. “But, uh. Guess you should know. Since you came. Since you…” His words trailed off, tangled.

Touya hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing against him. He wasn’t good at this, he never had been. Comfort wasn’t in his blood, and definitely not in his skillset. But Keigo’s voice, the way it shook despite the alcohol, Touya found himself lowering onto the couch next to Keigo, elbows on his knees, cigarette pack heavy in his pocket. “Tell me, then.”

Keigo looked at him for a long second, like he was gauging if Touya meant it. Then he exhaled, slumping deeper into the couch. “My dad. Piece of shit. Real grade-A bastard. Hit me more often than he didn’t, and yelled louder than anyone. I wasn’t allowed outside. Not even to the yard. Locked up tight. All I had were walls, shadows, and his voice telling me I was nothing.”

Touya’s hands curled into fists in his pockets, nails biting into his palms. His throat burned, but he didn’t say anything. Not yet.

“My mom,” Keigo’s smile warped, bitter. “She didn’t care. Not enough to stop him, not enough to try. Half the time she wasn’t there and the other half, she was just… blank. Like I was furniture. Like I didn’t exist.” He paused for a moment, “I used to think heroes were fake, you know? Stories and cartoons on TV. Never thought they were real. Not from where I was standing.” He laughed, harsh, short. “Funny, huh? Hawks, the hero who didn’t even know heroes were real.”

Touya’s chest twisted. He ground his teeth, forcing the anger down. Anger wouldn’t help Keigo now.

“Then Endeavor,” Keigo went on, his voice wobbling around the name. “He arrested my dad. Just like that. One day the bastard was there, the next he was gone, locked away. I thought maybe… maybe things would get better. But mom-” His voice broke, throat catching. He swallowed hard, eyes flicking away. “She sold me to the Commission. Just kinda handed me over. Signed me away like I was a broken appliance she didn’t want to deal with anymore. They took me, trained me, turned me into… this.” He gestured at himself, wings dragging against the couch. “And I let them. Because I thought maybe that’s what I was worth. Thought maybe if I was useful, I’d matter.”

Touya’s breath caught sharp in his throat. He wanted to move, to do something, anything, but his body felt heavy. He wasn’t built for this. He wasn’t built to patch cracks in other people. But Keigo’s words sat raw between them, bleeding out, and Touya knew silence would gut him worse.

“That’s fucked,” Touya said finally, voice low, rough. It was clumsy and blunt but it was true.

Keigo blinked at him, then let out a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob. He leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, face falling into his hands. His wings trembled, feathers quivering. “Yeah. Guess it is.” His words were muffled against his palms. “I hate that it still hurts. After all this time. Hate that I still care enough to drink myself stupid over it. I don’t do it often.”

Touya shifted, restless. He wanted to smoke, but the thought of lighting up now felt wrong, like it would shatter the moment. Instead he leaned forward, elbows digging into his thighs, eyes fixed on Keigo. “You cared because you were a kid. Because you deserved better. That’s not weakness. That’s just what it is.”

Keigo peeked at him through his fingers, eyes glassy, lashes damp. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he dropped his hands and slumped sideways, head landing heavy against Touya’s thigh. His wings dragged over the cushions, feathers rustling. “You’re not too bad at this, y’know,” he mumbled, words thick. “Comforting. For a guy who scowls ninety percent of the time.”

Touya snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t get used to it.”

Keigo laughed again, softer this time. He shifted, stretching out across the couch, both wings resting against the back of the sofa. His eyes slipped half-shut, but he reached out blindly, fingers brushing against Touya’s sleeve. “Don’t go,” he whispered, voice slurred but sharp underneath. “Not tonight.”

Touya froze. The touch was light, barely there, but it burned all the same. He looked at Keigo, the way his face softened, the way his body sagged under the weight of exhaustion and alcohol, and something cracked sharp inside him. He wasn’t good at this. But he could, and definitely would, try.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly. And he meant it.

Keigo smiled, small and uneven, and his grip on Touya’s sleeve tightened just a little. He shifted closer, curling like he was trying to fold himself into Touya’s space. His feathers shifted against the sofa, soft, insistent. “Good,” he murmured, words fading with the pull of sleep and alcohol. “Stay.”

Touya sat there, stiff at first, then slowly let his shoulders drop. He leaned back against the couch, eyes still on Keigo. He shifted sideways so that he was lying on the sofa, leaning on the armrest, and pulled Keigo onto his chest.

The bottles on the counter caught the lamplight, the air still heavy with alcohol, but the sharpest noise had faded. Keigo’s breathing evened out, hitching now and then, his hand still curled in Touya’s sleeve like an anchor.

And for the first time that night, Touya let himself breathe, knowing that Keigo was okay for now. At least better than he had been a few minutes ago.

Chapter Text

The morning came in slow, pale slats of light cutting through the blinds, thin and colorless against the dim apartment. Touya blinked awake to the faint weight on his chest, his mind taking longer than usual to catch up. His back ached from the too-short couch, his neck stiff where it had been pressed against the armrest, but none of that mattered once he realized what, or rather who, was sprawled across him.

Keigo.

The weight was warm, heavy with sleep. One wing draped off the edge of the couch, feathers shifting with each slow breath. The other was curled awkwardly against the back cushions, bent at an angle that looked like it should’ve hurt, but Keigo didn’t stir. His face was pressed against Touya’s chest, hair mussed, his fingers still curled loosely in the sleeve of Touya’s shirt like he’d been afraid Touya might vanish overnight. His mouth was parted, breaths uneven in that groggy way that came with exhaustion layered over alcohol.

Touya let out a slow breath, careful not to move too much. His hand hovered above Keigo’s back for a second before he finally let it rest there, palm warm against the thin cotton of his shirt. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but it didn’t feel wrong. If anything, it felt grounding, like Keigo needed the weight of it.

The apartment smelled like stale alcohol, smoke, and the faint trace of cologne clinging to Keigo’s skin. Empty bottles still littered the counter, silent reminders of the night before. Touya’s jaw tightened at the memory of Keigo slumped on the couch, voice raw as he’d talked about his parents, about the Commission, about ghosts that still clawed at him even now. Touya had never wanted to burn something down so badly in his life, and yet, all he’d been able to do was sit there, listen, and stay.

That had been enough last night. He didn’t know if it would be enough this morning.

Keigo shifted against him, a low groan catching in his throat. His wings twitched, feathers rustling loud in the quiet, and his hand tightened briefly on Touya’s sleeve before loosening again. His eyelids fluttered open, glassy gold blurred by sleep and the aftermath of too much alcohol. He blinked slow, confusion flickering across his face before realization hit.

“Fuck,” Keigo muttered, voice rough, broken around the edges. He dropped his forehead harder against Touya’s chest, groaning low. “I’m gonna die.”

Touya snorted quietly, hand still steady on his back. “Not dead yet. Though you look like shit.”

Keigo laughed weakly, though it sounded more like a pained exhale. “That’s comforting.” He winced, squeezing his eyes shut. “Head’s pounding. Mouth feels like sandpaper.”

“Yeah, that happens when you drink half the damn city dry,” Touya muttered, shifting carefully to sit up more. Keigo groaned at the movement, wings dragging heavy as he flopped onto his back, head now tipped against Touya’s thigh. He threw an arm over his eyes, feathers trembling with the effort of even that small motion.

Touya glanced down at him, taking in the flushed skin, the uneven breathing, the wrecked mess of him. Vulnerable in a way Hawks never let anyone see. Touya swallowed down the twist in his chest and stood, ignoring Keigo’s faint whine at the loss of contact. “Stay there. Don’t move. Not that you actually want to anyways.”

Keigo mumbled something into his arm that sounded suspiciously like “bossy,” but Touya ignored it, moving into the kitchen. He shoved bottles aside with one hand, searching through cabinets until he found a decent size glass. He rinsed it out, filled it with water from the tap, and set it down on the counter. He’d had enough of his own hangovers to know water wasn’t going to cut it, but it was a start.

The fridge creaked open, humming louder than it should’ve. Inside there wasn’t much, just leftover takeout, a few eggs, some sad-looking vegetables. Nothing worth cooking. Touya grabbed the eggs anyway, pulled a pan from the rack, and set it on the stove. The sizzle of oil filled the silence as he cracked them in, watching the edges bubble. He wasn’t a chef, but he could make something edible. Keigo needed food in his stomach if he didn’t want to spend the whole day on the sofa.

Behind him, Keigo groaned again, shifting restlessly. “Smells good,” he muttered, voice muffled.

Touya flipped the eggs onto a plate and carried them over, setting the plate and the glass of water on the coffee table in front of the couch. Keigo cracked one eye open, squinting at the offering like it might bite him. “You cook now? I didn’t think that was possible for you to do.”

Touya sat back down on the edge of the couch, arms crossed. “Shut up and eat before you puke.”

Keigo laughed, weak but real, and forced himself upright with a wince. His wings dragged clumsy behind him, feathers drooping like they’d given up on pretending to be graceful. He grabbed the glass first, downing half the water in one go before setting it back down with a shaky hand. His other hand went for the eggs, slower, like the effort of lifting a fork might take him out.

Touya watched him, biting back the urge to help Keigo more. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from sliding the glass closer when Keigo almost knocked it over with his arm.

Keigo ate in silence for a while, slow, pained bites that looked like they cost him energy he didn’t have. Touya stayed quiet, letting the sound of the fork scraping the plate fill the space. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t bad either.

Finally, Keigo dropped the fork with a clatter, leaning back into the couch again. “You’re being nice today, y’know,” he said suddenly, voice hoarse but threaded with that familiar teasing note.

Touya narrowed his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the smile tugging at his lips. “You’re hungover. Don’t start.”

Keigo grinned weakly, tilting his head toward him. “Nah, I mean it. You stayed. You cooked. You-” He broke off with a wince, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Shit, my head.”

Touya shoved the glass of water back into his hands. “Drink. Then shut up.”

Keigo obeyed, but he kept looking at Touya over the rim of the glass, gold eyes sharp despite the haze of the hangover. “You didn’t have to,” he said finally, softer. The smirk slipped, leaving something more raw underneath. “Most people i’ve been with don’t stick around for the messy parts.”

Touya’s throat worked, words catching. He looked away, jaw tight. “I’m not most people.”

That pulled a laugh out of Keigo, low and cracked but genuine. He set the glass down again, wings twitching as he shifted closer, leaning against Touya’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Lucky me,” he murmured.

Touya resisted the urge to tense up, letting him stay there, the heat of him pressing in close. His feathers brushed against Touya’s arm, soft despite the mess of them, and Touya found himself reaching up before he could stop. His fingers brushed through the feathers, smoothing a bent one near the edge. Keigo let out a low noise, almost a purr, tilting into the touch like it was instinct.

“Careful,” Touya muttered, voice rough. “I’m not used to this. I don’t do this shit.”

Keigo hummed, eyes slipping shut as his weight pressed heavier against him. “You’re doing fine.”

Touya let his hand fall, but the warmth lingered, the contact burning into his skin. He glanced down at Keigo, taking in the slack line of his mouth, the exhaustion dragging at his features. Vulnerable. Trusting. It twisted something sharp inside him, something he didn’t want to name.

“You ever gonna drink like that again?” Touya asked finally, breaking the silence.

Keigo cracked an eye open, smirk tugging weak at his mouth. “Only if you’re around to look after me.”

Touya glared. “I’m serious.”

The smirk slipped, and Keigo sighed, dropping his head back against the couch. “No. Not like that. It was… a bad night. Old ghosts, remember?”

Touya’s jaw clenched. “Yeah. I remember.”

Keigo’s fingers brushed against his sleeve again, the same way they had last night, light but grounding. “Thanks. For staying. For… not running when I fell apart.”

Touya’s chest burned, the words clawing at places he kept locked down. He shifted, pulling out his cigarette pack, needing something to do with his hands. He didn’t light one, just rolled it between his fingers. “Told you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Keigo’s eyes softened, the kind of softness that stripped everything else away. “Good. Because I don’t think I want you to.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy this time. It settled between them like a weight they could both carry. Touya leaned back against the couch, cigarette still unlit between his fingers, Keigo pressed warm against his side.

The morning light cut sharper through the blinds, spilling across the floor, catching on Keigo’s feathers and golden skin. It made him look ethereal.

For the first time in a long time, Touya didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. It was enough just to sit there, enough that Keigo was still breathing beside him, enough that they were both here. And when Keigo finally drifted back into a doze, head tipped onto his shoulder, Touya stayed perfectly still, letting him rest. He wasn’t good at comfort, but maybe he didn’t have to be. Maybe all he had to do was stay with him.

Touya sat still for longer than he realized, one arm braced along the back of the couch, the other resting heavy in his lap with the cigarette pack still unopened between his fingers. Keigo’s breathing stayed even, soft against his shoulder, feathers twitching every now and then like his body refused to fully rest. The quiet of the apartment settled around them, broken only by the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional sound of traffic outside.

It had been a few hours since Keigo had fallen back asleep, and Touya hadn’t moved since. It wasn’t often Touya got this. Stillness. The kind that didn’t feel suffocating. He should’ve been restless, should’ve wanted to move, to light a smoke, to get the hell out before the walls pressed in too close. But Keigo’s weight against him anchored him there, and for once, he didn’t feel like bolting.

Eventually, though, he shifted, free hand dragging over his jeans until it landed in his pocket. His phone buzzed faintly against his leg, he hadn’t noticed it before, too focused on keeping still so Keigo didn’t wake. Now he pulled it free, thumb swiping across the screen.

He froze when he saw the notification.
A new group chat. The name at the top read: Todoroki siblings.

The icon was just the default gray bubble, but the members underneath made his stomach tighten. Fuyumi. Shoto. Natsuo. And him. Just the four of them.

Touya swore under his breath. The last thing he needed right now was a sibling intervention. But the unread messages glared at him, bright blue bubbles stacked one after another. He clicked it open before he could talk himself out of it.

——

Fuyumi (9:13 AM):
Morning Touya ☀️
Just making sure you’re alive after last night lol.
Natsuo (9:15 AM):
pretty sure he’s alive
i’m still dealing with the fact that hawks was attached to his face when we saw them
Shoto (9:15 AM):
Attached to his face.
Gross.

——

Touya scowled at the screen. His jaw clenched so tight his teeth hurt.

——

Fuyumi (9:17 AM):
Don’t be dramatic Shoto, it wasn’t gross, it was just
Unexpected.
Though maybe you could’ve warned us, Touya??

Natsuo (9:18 AM):
warned us???
he JUST LET US WALK IN ON THEM
i can’t unsee that

Shoto (9:18 AM):
He had his hand in Hawks’ hair.
Very undignified for the #2 and #3 heroes.

Touya groaned under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. Of course Shoto would be an ass about it. He should’ve ignored the chat, but his thumbs moved anyway, typing a sharp reply before he could stop.

——

Touya (9:19 AM):
Stop talking about it.

——

The dots popped up almost immediately.

——

Natsuo (9:19 AM):
oh so he DOES respond
incredible. amazing.
hi touya. how’s ur boyfriend?

Fuyumi (9:20 AM):
Natsuo.
Be nice.

Natsuo (9:20 AM):
i am nice
i asked about his bf

Shoto (9:20 AM):
Boyfriend.
Hawks.
…is that legal?
Can heroes date each other?

——

Touya’s scowl deepened. His thumbs jabbed the screen harder than necessary.

——

Touya (9:21 AM):
Yes. Shut up Shoto.

Fuyumi (9:21 AM):
Okay okay, everyone calm down. Touya, we’re not mad. It was just surprising. That’s all.
But you looked happy. That’s what matters.

Natsuo (9:22 AM):
happy is a strong word.
but i’ll allow it.
still i did not need to see that tho.

——

Touya tensed and nearly threw the phone across the room. Keigo shifted against him at the sudden movement, groaning faintly, and Touya froze, guilt crawling hot up his neck. He glanced down, seeing Keigo’s lashes flutter, but he didn’t wake, not fully. His head stayed heavy on Touya’s shoulder, lips parting with a faint sigh.

Touya let out a slow breath and typed one last message, quick.

——

Touya (9:23 AM): Drop it.

——

Then he locked the phone, shoving it face-down onto the armrest. He didn’t want to deal with them right now, not with Keigo still out cold against him and his chest tight enough that it felt like the walls had closed in again.

He leaned his head back against the couch, closing his eyes, breathing through it. His siblings were nosy assholes, sure, but Fuyumi was right, none of them had looked angry last night. Just shocked, and maybe amused. Well, Fuyumi had laughed at the time anyways. And if they’d made a group chat, it meant they weren’t planning on spilling it outside the family. That was something. Small, but something.

The sound of shifting feathers pulled him out of his thoughts. Keigo stirred again, heavier this time, groaning as he blinked awake. His head rolled against Touya’s shoulder, eyes squinting against the light slanting through the blinds.

“M’head still hurts,” he muttered, voice rough with sleep. He rubbed at his face, wings twitching weakly. “How long was I out?”

Touya shifted, loosening his stiff shoulders. “Few hours. Not long.”

Keigo’s gaze flicked toward him, hazy but curious. “You’re still here.”

“Yeah,” Touya muttered, avoiding his eyes. “Said I would.”

A slow smile curved Keigo’s mouth, crooked, too soft for the mess he looked like. He leaned in closer again, his temple brushing against Touya’s shoulder. “Good. Didn’t want you to vanish on me.”

Touya rolled his eyes, but the burn in his chest said otherwise. He reached absently for the cigarette pack in his lap, rolling one between his fingers again. He didn’t light it.

“You should eat more later,” he muttered instead. “Or you’ll feel worse.”

“Bossy again,” Keigo teased, but it was weaker, softer, his eyes slipping half-shut. His wings shifted across the couch, one brushing against Touya’s leg like it was accidental, though Touya knew better by now.

“Not bossy,” Touya said, quieter than he meant to. “Just… looking out for you, Kei.”

The name slipped out before he even noticed. His chest tightened immediately, words hanging sharp in the air.

Keigo froze, golden eyes snapping wide open, brighter despite the exhaustion still pulling at them. His head tipped back, blinking up at Touya like he’d just heard the funniest thing in the world. “What’d you just call me?”

Touya’s stomach dropped and he scowled, heat crawling up the back of his neck. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“No, no, no-” Keigo pushed himself upright, wings flaring just enough to rustle, feathers scattering across the cushions. He grinned wide, the hangover haze cutting sharp with excitement. “You called me Kei. You totally did.”

Touya cursed under his breath, looking away fast. “Slip of the tongue.”

“Slip of the-” Keigo cut himself off with a laugh that cracked, real and bright. He shifted closer, nearly bumping his forehead against Touya’s jaw. “Touya. You gave me a nickname. You.”

Touya groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“It’s already a big deal!” Keigo’s grin stretched wider, teeth flashing. “Kei. I like it. Sounds good coming from you.” His hand landed on Touya’s knee, fingers curling casual but firm. “Say it again.”

“Not happening,” Touya muttered, glaring at the floor. His ears felt hot, and he hated it.

Keigo laughed again, softer this time, leaning back against the cushions but never moving his hand. “Alright, fine. I’ll take what I can get. Still… Kei, huh? That’s mine now. I like you using it.”

Touya risked a glance at him, ready to snap back something sharp, but the look on Keigo’s face stopped him cold. He was grinning, yeah, but it wasn’t the mask-grin, not the hero-smirk he threw at cameras. It was lighter, and much brighter. Like Touya had handed him something rare and fragile, and Keigo was holding onto it with both hands.

Something cracked open in Touya’s chest. He looked away fast, teeth catching his bottom lip to stop the smile his face was already shifting into.

Keigo hummed under his breath, tapping his fingers lightly against Touya’s knee. “Guess that means I get to return the favor, huh?”

Touya’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t.”

“Oh, I’m definitely doing it.” Keigo sat up straighter, eyes gleaming with mischief despite the obvious hangover still dragging him down. “Let’s see… Touya’s too long. Too stiff. You need something shorter. Something better.” He tapped his chin like he was thinking hard, then snapped his fingers. “Tou.”

Touya blinked. “Tou?”

“Yeah.” Keigo grinned, satisfied. “Short. Sweet. Fits you. Tou.” He said it again, softer this time, like he was testing how it felt in his mouth. “Tou.”

Touya wanted to scowl, wanted to snap at him for being ridiculous. But the way Keigo said it, gentle, playful, threaded with warmth, had his chest pulling tight instead. He tried to force his expression flat, but his lips betrayed him, twitching at the corners.

Keigo caught it instantly. His grin split wider, feathers fluffing in triumph. “Was that a smile? From the great Phoenix? Oh my god, it was.” He leaned closer, practically vibrating with glee. “Tou, you smiled at me.”

Touya cursed under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’re annoying as hell.”

“And yet, you smiled,” Keigo sing-songed, grinning so wide his eyes crinkled. “Tou and Kei. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Touya let out a sharp breath, trying and failing to smother the small, traitorous curve of his mouth. He shook his head, muttering low. “You’re ridiculous.”

Keigo leaned back against the couch again, smug as hell, wings twitching in satisfaction. “Maybe. But I got you to smile. And I got a nickname out of it. I’d call that a win.”

Touya exhaled slowly, the fight bleeding out of him. He glanced sideways at Keigo, who was still grinning like the world had just handed him a gift. For once, Touya didn’t feel the urge to move away from it. For once, the warmth in his chest didn’t feel like something he had to stamp out.

Instead, he let it linger. Maybe he could get used to this.

Chapter Text

The city always seemed different after a patrol. Not because the air itself changed, not really, with exhaustion, fried food stands, concrete dust, too many people packed into one place, but because of the way Touya’s body adjusted to it after hours moving through streets, alleys, rooftops. His blood felt warmer, his nerves sharper, his jaw tight from clenching against every idiot who wanted to pull some stunt just because a pro hero was nearby. By the time the patrol wrapped, the sun was beginning its slow crawl westward, bleeding gold through the slats of high-rises, and he felt restless down to his bones.

Keigo, naturally, didn’t look restless at all. If anything, he looked energized, feathers shifting easy, grin tugging at his lips even as he stretched his arms over his head like he’d just woken from a nap instead of dealing with three would-be purse snatchers, a drunk who wouldn’t get out of the road, and two crying kids who got separated from their mom at a crosswalk. He adjusted his jacket, wings flaring just slightly as he breathed in the air, his expression faintly smug.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Keigo said, voice light, casual, like this whole thing had been a stroll instead of a patrol. He leaned sideways as he walked, brushing his wing deliberately close enough that the edge of a feather grazed Touya’s shoulder. “Bet you secretly had fun.”

Touya shot him a flat look. “Fun, he says. Babysitting drunk assholes and brats is your idea of fun?”

“Hey, don’t knock it,” Keigo replied, grin widening. “The kids smiled at you. That’s gotta count for something.”

Touya clicked his tongue, looking away. “Brats smile at anything if you don’t scream at them.”

“Mm, but you didn’t scream,” Keigo said, sing-song almost, golden eyes gleaming as he angled his head to look at him. “That’s progress. Next thing you know, you’ll be signing autographs.”

“Don’t push it.”

Keigo laughed, full and bright, loud enough to draw a glance from someone passing by on the opposite sidewalk. He didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care. His stride stayed loose, confident, feathers catching glints of the sun as they moved toward the looming building up ahead.

Touya’s stomach twisted when the interview came back into focus in his head. He hated this part, public eyes, questions loaded like weapons, Endeavor hovering like a shadow at the edge of everything. Patrol was one thing. He could fight. He could burn. He could act. But talking in front of cameras, sitting in a lineup like some obedient dog, that set his skin crawling worse than anything.

All the heroes who had been put into partners for two months, were scheduled to have an interview at 5:00pm, and Touya was dreading it.

Keigo must’ve noticed the shift in his silence, because his grin softened, dipping into something smaller as he slowed his pace a little to match Touya’s. “You’ll be fine,” he said low, not mocking this time, more matter-of-fact. “Just glare at the cameras. They’ll eat it up.”

“Not funny,” Touya muttered, eyes narrowing.

“Who said I was joking?” Keigo tipped his head, a single feather flicking free and curling into Touya’s line of sight before drifting back into place. “Seriously. You being all sharp and fiery? They’ll spin it into ‘mysterious bad-boy hero.’ The fans will lap it up.”

Touya growled under his breath, glaring ahead at the wide glass doors of the building. “You sound like a PR agent.”

“Just telling you the truth, Tou,” Keigo said, soft again, and Touya’s jaw clenched harder at the nickname, the one Keigo had latched onto the day before and hadn’t stopped using since. He hadn’t fought it off as much as he wanted to. Some traitorous part of him liked the way it sounded when Keigo said it, like he was the only one allowed to.

“Shut up,” Touya muttered anyway.

Keigo smirked, unbothered, and let the conversation drop as they neared the entrance. The building loomed overhead, glass and steel polished to a shine, banners plastered across the front with heroic slogans and staged photos of pro heroes mid-action. Touya hated it on sight. His reflection glared back at him from the sliding doors as they opened, Keigo at his side, feathers brushing faintly against him again as they stepped into the lobby.
The air inside was cooler, filtered, too clean compared to the city streets. The polished tile floor echoed under their boots. Receptionists looked up from behind counters, their professional smiles faltering slightly at the sight of Touya scowling, before flicking automatically back into place. He caught the twitch of their eyes, the way they lingered on his pale scars, on the jagged, faint burns crawling up his neck. He ignored it, though the familiar burn coiled in his gut.

Keigo leaned in just enough that his breath tickled against Touya’s ear. “Smile and wave?”

Touya shot him a sideways glare. “I’d rather set this entire building on fire.”

Keigo’s grin was all teeth. “Liar. You’d risk setting me on fire.”

Touya elbowed him in the ribs, not hard enough to hurt but enough to wipe that smug tone off his face for half a second. Keigo let out a small, fake whimper, clutching at his side dramatically. “Ow. Brutal. My poor fragile body.”

“Keep talking and I’ll make it worse.”

Keigo laughed again, softer this time, low enough that it rumbled through Touya’s chest where their shoulders were touching. Then he straightened, wings settling back against his spine as they headed deeper into the building.

They were early. That was the point, to finish patrol, head straight here, and waste no time. Which meant they had longer to sit around in some bland waiting area or hover near the others who’d show up. Touya’s stomach soured at the thought. He didn’t want to stand in some lobby under fluorescent lights with Best Jeanist fussing about posture or Present Mic yelling in his ear. He didn’t want Endeavor’s eyes on him, cold and assessing even when he pretended otherwise.

As they walked past a set of wide glass windows and down a quieter hall, Touya felt the itch under his skin claw harder. He needed space, needed to breathe, needed a break from the endless parade of strangers staring at them like they were products instead of people.

Keigo glanced sideways again, reading him too easily. “You good?”

Touya didn’t answer right away. His eyes caught on a door up ahead, half-shadowed at the end of the hall, tucked out of sight from the main lobby. No lights shone underneath it. No sound came from behind it. Empty. Perfect.

He didn’t think, not really. He just grabbed Keigo’s wrist, the suddenness making Keigo stumble slightly, wings flaring out in surprise.

“Whoa, hey-” Keigo started, but Touya cut him off with a sharp look, dragging him toward the door without slowing.

Keigo’s grin sparked alive again, like he couldn’t help himself even as he tripped to match Touya’s stride. “Tou, what’re you-”

Touya yanked the handle, shoved the door open, the space inside dark and silent. Before Keigo could get another word out, Touya pushed him firmly over the threshold, into the empty room.

The door clicked shut behind them with a heavy thud, muffling the hum of the hall, sealing them into darkness. The only sound was the faint shuffle of Keigo’s boots as he regained his balance, wings folding in tight to keep from brushing the wall he’d fallen against. The air in the room was cooler, tinged with dust, abandoned like storage space no one bothered to use.

“Okay, dramatic much?” Keigo’s voice broke through, light, amused, echoing faintly in the emptiness. He shifted, feathers rustling as he turned. “Dragging me into a creepy dark room without a word? You could’ve at least-”

Touya cut him off the way he always did when he couldn’t stand the sound of Keigo’s grin bleeding through every syllable, sharp, impatient, and deliberate. His hands fisted in Keigo’s jacket, tugging him close, slamming their mouths together before Keigo could finish his quip.

Keigo made a muffled sound of surprise that melted almost instantly into something darker, hungrier, as he pushed back with equal force. His wings snapped outward instinctively, a few feathers scattering to the floor before curling back against him. Touya shoved him harder, forcing him up against the wall, mouth working rough against his, teeth scraping, tongue demanding.

Keigo laughed breathlessly into the kiss, the sound breaking when Touya bit down hard enough to sting. “Tou-” he tried to speak, but Touya’s hand fisted in his hair, tugging his head back just enough to bite again along the line of his jaw, down to his throat. The laugh turned into a groan, low and raw, cut off when Touya sucked at the skin there, sharp enough that Keigo’s knees nearly buckled.

“Shut up,” Touya muttered against his throat, the words half a growl, half a breath, his voice vibrating against the skin he was marking.

Keigo shuddered, wings twitching, but he didn’t argue. His hands found Touya’s sides, fingers of his gloves dragging over his shirt like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to push him away or pull him closer. In the end, he did the latter, dragging Touya flush against him, their hips colliding, his breath hitching as Touya ground into him with deliberate pressure.

The room stayed swallowed in dark, shapes blurred into shadow, but Touya didn’t need light to map out Keigo’s body under his hands. He dragged his fingers down over his chest, nails catching on fabric, slipping under layers until he found skin. Keigo hissed at the touch, shivering when Touya’s hands burned faintly warm, not hot enough to scorch but enough to remind him exactly who he was pressed against.

“Fuck,” Keigo breathed, head hitting the wall as Touya claimed his mouth again, deeper this time, tongue pushing past his lips, tasting him like he owned him. The sound of their mouths filled the room, wet and frantic, their breath coming harsher each time they broke for air only to crash back together.

Keigo clutched at him like he was afraid Touya would vanish if he didn’t hold tight enough, hands roaming, tugging at his shirt, trying to get closer even though Touya was already pressing him mercilessly into the wall. His wings fluttered and wrapped around then, feathers brushing over Touya’s arms, the back of his neck, tickling and teasing even as they trembled with restraint.

Touya smirked against his lips, recognizing the way Keigo’s body yielded under his grip. The control settled in his veins like fire, comforting in the way it was familiar, steady, and grounding all in one. He dragged his mouth down again, biting hard at Keigo’s collarbone this time, earning a sharp gasp, followed by a muffled laugh that dissolved into another groan.

“You’re- fuck- forward today,” Keigo managed, voice ragged, though he tilted his head to bare more skin without hesitation.

“Yeah?” Touya muttered against him, teeth scraping over the newly reddened mark. “And you like it.”

Keigo’s answer came in the form of a needy hum, his nails digging into Touya’s shoulder and scalp, pulling him in for another kiss like he couldn’t get enough. The kiss turned messy fast, lips bruising, tongues colliding, both of them chasing it harder, rougher, as if stopping wasn’t even an option.

The air in the room thickened with heat, their panting breath mixing, the faint scent of singed fabric where Touya’s hands wandered carelessly, burning just enough to leave a reminder. Keigo didn’t complain. He leaned into every spark, every rough grip, every bruising press of Touya’s mouth against his.

Time slipped in the dark, and they lost track of it, lost in the relentless pull of each other, in the way Touya couldn’t stop devouring him and Keigo couldn’t stop letting him. They kissed until their lips were swollen, until their chests heaved for air, until Touya’s hands ached from gripping too tight and the base of Keigo’s wings trembled from straining against the wall.

It was only when the heat between them threatened to swallow everything, when Touya dragged his mouth back up from Keigo’s throat to bite at his lip again, that the sudden shift hit.

The lights blazed on. Bright, sterile, flooding every corner of the room with harsh fluorescence. The shadows vanished, burned away in an instant, and Touya’s eyes snapped open against the glare.

Keigo froze under him, lips still parted, chest heaving. The two of them blinked in the blinding brightness, every inch of disheveled clothing, every smeared bruise, every feather scattered on the floor laid bare.

And standing in the open doorway, filling it shoulder to shoulder, were the others. Heroes. Present Mic, eyes wide, mouth hanging open mid-word. Aizawa, face unreadable but gaze sharp. Best Jeanist stiff, jaw set. Rumi, shocked, but smirking with a sharpness that cut. And behind them, Endeavor, looming, eyes burning, mouth flat with disapproval. And it wasn’t just them, the interviewers were there too. There was cameras, and lenses gleaming red as they streamed live, pointed squarely into the room, capturing everything.

For one suspended heartbeat the room was silent, save for the harsh, ragged sound of their breathing and the faint rustle of a feather still drifting to the floor. Touya’s fingers were still curled in Keigo’s shirt, knuckles pressed against his chest, his other hand tangled in Keigo’s hair, holding him pinned. Keigo’s wings were splayed wide, trembling faintly, the both of them still locked in the posture of their kiss as if the world hadn’t just shattered open around them.

Then the silence cracked.

Present Mic’s voice hit first, an unrestrained, “Holy shit!” It bounced off the walls, too loud, full of shock and giddy disbelief, the kind of exclamation that would have been funny if Touya’s stomach wasn’t turning to stone.

Best Jeanist’s gasp followed, sharp, offended, like the sight before him had physically pierced through his carefully constructed image of decorum. “This is- absolutely unacceptable-” he started, already raising a hand as though about to step in like some prudish chaperone at a school dance.

Rumi leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed, lips curved into a wide, unrepentant smirk, crimson eyes glittering like she’d just been handed the best entertainment of her week. “Well, well,” she drawled, voice rich with delight, “look who decided to start the interview early. Didn’t know it was gonna be this kind of show.”

Aizawa said nothing. His eyes flicked over them once, slow and deliberate, cataloguing every disheveled detail, Keigo’s swollen lips, Touya’s grip in his hair, the marks blooming on Keigo’s throat, the scattering of feathers littering the floor, and then lingered, unimpressed. He exhaled through his nose, the faintest sigh, like he couldn’t summon the energy to comment yet, though the weight of his stare was enough to make Touya’s skin itch.

And behind them, towering and unmissable, Endeavor. His father. His expression wasn’t just shock, it was fury forced down, boiling behind clenched teeth, his jaw tight, his eyes blazing brighter than the cameras picking up every angle of this disaster.
Touya’s gut twisted. For a second, the instinct was to burn. To lash out, scorch the air, force them all back with a wall of fire until no one could see him, until no one could look at them like this. The heat surged in his chest, rising, begging to be released.

But Keigo shifted under him, breaking the spell. He made a small, breathless laugh, nervous, forced, still curved into his voice even as his golden eyes flicked toward the crowd gathered in the doorway. His feathers quivered, wings pressing forward tighter away from the wall as though he could shield them both, though he stayed firmly in place, still pinned between Touya and the concrete.

“Well,” Keigo said, his voice pitched casual, too casual, the kind of tone that cracked at the edges from strain even as he tried to play it off, “guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

Touya snapped his head toward him, disbelief flashing in his eyes. “Are you serious right now?” he hissed under his breath, sharp enough to cut, though he didn’t let go.

Keigo’s grin wobbled, not his usual easy charm but something smaller, desperate, clinging to the mask that had gotten him out of worse spots.

“What?” he murmured back, tilting his head, lips still curved even though the color had drained from his face. “Smile for the cameras, Tou. Damage control.”

“Damage control?” Touya repeated, incredulous, his voice low but carrying, harsh enough that some of the people at the doorway stiffened. “We just got caught making out like horny teenagers in the dark, and you think damage control is gonna save it?”

Present Mic barked out a laugh, high-pitched and delighted, shoving his elbow against Aizawa’s side as if he couldn’t physically contain himself. “Dude, you can’t write this stuff! Live television! I mean, c’mon, the ratings are gonna be through the roof!”

“Hizashi,” Aizawa muttered in warning, but his tone was more tired than stern, his eyes still locked on the mess in front of them.

Best Jeanist finally stepped forward, smoothing a hand down the front of his immaculate jacket as though he could iron the indecency out of the air with sheer posture. “This,” he said, voice tight, “is precisely why professionalism must always be maintained. There are standards, Hawks, Phoenix. Standards that must be upheld. This kind of display-”

Rumi cut him off with a bark of laughter, sharp and amused. “Standards, my ass. Let them have their fun, Jeanist. You act like you never got caught doing shit you shouldn’t be doing.”

Jeanist bristled, sputtering, clearly offended by the implication. “I would never-”

“Oh, please.” Rumi smirked wider, tossing her head back against the doorframe. “You’re just mad they are actually making this interesting.”

Touya barely heard them. His jaw was clenched tight enough to ache, his chest burning, not from quirk this time but from the weight of every stare, every lens pointed their way. The cameras. Fuck, the cameras. His eyes flicked past the cluster of heroes to the people beside them. The interviewers, stiff in their suits, clutching microphones, all of them pale and stunned but not moving to stop the broadcast. Red lights on the cameras blinked steady, merciless, recording every second. This was already out there. Already streaming live.

He swore under his breath, low and vicious. “Fucking hell.”

Keigo’s grin faltered entirely now, his mask cracking just enough for Touya to see the panic flicker underneath. His wings trembled again, feathers bristling, and his hands tightened reflexively in Touya’s shirt as though grounding himself. He didn’t move away, he didn’t push Touya off, but his voice was quieter now, pitched for him alone.

“Too late to stop it,” he whispered, eyes darting toward the cameras before snapping back. “So don’t give them anything else. Just- don’t, Tou.”

The warning hit raw. Touya’s first instinct was to do the opposite, to give them fire, teeth, to make them regret ever stepping into this room. To show them that if they wanted a spectacle, he’d give them one they’d never forget. But Keigo’s voice cut through, steady despite the tremor underneath, and Touya’s grip faltered just enough for him to hesitate.

Endeavor finally spoke. His voice was low, rumbling, more dangerous than any of the shouting or laughter. “What,” he said, measured, each syllable carved sharp, “is going on here.”

The weight of his tone filled the room, swallowing every sound around it. Present Mic’s laughter choked off mid-breath. Jeanist’s tirade snapped shut. Even Rumi’s smirk flickered, just for a heartbeat. Aizawa’s gaze sharpened, following the ripple of tension.

Touya turned his head slowly, deliberately, meeting his father’s eyes with a glare that burned hotter than flame. His chest rose and fell in harsh pulls, but his voice came out steady, dripping venom. “What the fuck does it look like?”

The words landed heavy, defiant, and the room bristled with reaction. Jeanist’s gasp of outrage, Present Mic’s muffled laugh, Rumi’s renewed smirk, Aizawa’s quiet sigh, and Endeavor’s jaw clenching tighter, the fire in his eyes flaring. Touya didn’t look away. He couldn’t. Every muscle in his body was coiled, every nerve lit, his entire being focused on not breaking under the weight of those eyes, not yielding, not ever again.

Keigo shifted again, his hand sliding up to grip Touya’s wrist, gentle but firm, grounding. His eyes flicked toward Endeavor too, then back to Touya, his voice barely audible under the hum of the lights and the whir of the cameras.

“Don’t,” he murmured, steady, pleading buried under the calm. “He doesn’t get to win this. Not like this.”

Touya’s breath caught in his throat, heat surging again, burning to be unleashed. But Keigo’s grip held, warm, insistent, pulling him back just enough from the edge.

Behind the cluster of heroes, one of the interviewers finally found his voice, thin and cracking as he glanced between the two of them and the cameras still rolling. “Uh- ladies and gentlemen, it appears we’ve- ah- caught a… candid moment between two of our heroes-”

Rumi barked another laugh. “Candid’s one word for it.”

The interviewer faltered, flustered, tugging at his collar as the cameramen continued to film, uncertain whether to cut the feed or keep rolling. The red lights blinked on, relentless. Touya’s pulse thundered in his ears. The world around him blurred, narrowed, honed in on the unbearable fact that every second of this was being broadcast live, every person in the city who tuned in was watching them like animals behind glass. Watching him. Watching them.

And then, just as the pressure built to a breaking point, the door opened wider, the fluorescent light glaring hotter, the crowd of heroes and interviewers pushing fully into the room, filling it with bodies, with voices, with judgment.
Touya’s grip tightened instinctively on Keigo, his jaw set, his chest heaving, and for the first time since the lights came on, the thought pierced through sharp and unyielding. There was no way out of this.

The interview that followed was the definition of a blur. Touya barely remembered walking to the seats in that room, barely remembered the shift from fluorescent light to the bright, suffocating blaze of stage lights. The cameras hadn’t stopped rolling, of course, they’d probably spliced the footage together, transforming his and Keigo’s private moment into some kind of headline-making prelude. He sat there under the spotlights, shoulders squared, mouth set in that dangerous half-smile that always made people nervous, and answered questions with the most clipped, sarcastic responses possible. He didn’t even try to soften them. He didn’t care.

The interviewers stumbled over themselves, their cue cards useless, their rehearsed questions thrown out the window. Every third sentence was some fumbling attempt to circle back to professionalism, to discuss “the patrol program” or “heroic partnerships,” only for Keigo, who was still flushed and grinning like an idiot who knew the city was eating this up, to cut in with a smooth comment, a wink, some nonsense about “teamwork” that probably left the audience laughing instead of gasping.

Touya caught maybe two details: Present Mic trying to crack a joke that even Aizawa didn’t bother to acknowledge, and Best Jeanist attempting to regain dignity with a stiff monologue about the importance of hero image, while the entire city already knew Hawks’ image was sprawled against a wall, mouth on fire, being devoured by the number two hero, the number one’s eldest son.

When it was over, Touya blinked under the sudden absence of stage lights, stood, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked off without a word. He could feel Endeavor’s glare burning into the back of his head like a spotlight of its own, but he didn’t look back.

Keigo barely got two steps away before Rumi’s hand clamped down on his arm. “Oh no you don’t,” she said, tugging hard enough to make his wings flutter. “You’re coming with me, birdbrain.”

Keigo squawked, wings flaring, eyes wide as she dragged him sideways down the hall. “Rumi, wait-! I can walk! I’m perfectly capable of- hey! Watch the feathers!”

Touya didn’t even pause. He kept moving forward, ignoring Keigo’s protests, ignoring the way Rumi was already cackling as she hauled him around a corner like a kidnapper with a very feathery prize.

That left him alone in the corridor. Alone except for the looming shadow that had been pacing behind him since the interview ended. Touya didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The heavy footsteps, the heat prickling against the back of his neck. He could practically hear the growl simmering in his chest.

Finally, when everybody else was out of earshot, Endeavor’s voice hit. “Touya.”

Touya stopped, not because his father told him to, but because it was better to deal with this now than drag it out. He turned slowly, hands still shoved deep in his pockets, posture loose, head tilted just slightly with a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

Enji looked… furious. That much was obvious. His jaw was clenched so tight Touya was half-surprised he hadn’t cracked a molar. His fists were balled at his sides, fire flickering faintly across his shoulders as though he were barely holding himself in check. But there was something else too, buried under all that rage. Something awkward, almost hesitant.

For a long moment, father and son just stared at each other, the air between them buzzing with heat and tension.

Then Touya raised a brow. “What?”

Enji inhaled, deep and slow, and for once, didn’t explode immediately. Instead, his voice came out low, heavy. “Do you realize,” he began, each word measured like he was forcing them through his teeth, “what you’ve just done?”

Touya shrugged, unbothered. “Made out with my boyfriend? Yeah. Pretty sure I’m aware.” He felt his heart beat faster at calling Keigo his boyfriend for the first time.

Enji’s eye twitched. “On live television.”

“Again, I’m aware.” Touya’s smirk sharpened. “You want me to draw you a picture? Get Jeanist to sew one out of denim for you?”

The sound that ripped out of Enji’s chest was half-frustration, half the sound of a man trying desperately not to combust in a public hallway. He dragged a hand down his face, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a prayer for patience. When he lowered it, his expression had shifted, not less angry, but… more strained.

“I have,” Enji said slowly, “been making every effort, every damn effort, to be a better father. To be present. To show support for my children. To mend what I broke.”

Touya snorted. “Yeah. Gold star. You want a medal for that? ‘World’s Okayest Dad’?”

Enji ignored him, barely. His voice grew tighter, louder. “And then you, on the program I created to demonstrate the cooperation of pro heroes, decide to drag Hawks into the room we were using for our interview, and-”

“-kiss him until the cameras walked in?” Touya interrupted, tilting his head, grin widening. “Sounds about right. I didn’t know it was the interview room we were using though, to be fair.”

Enji’s flames flared, licking hotter around his shoulders, but he stomped them down with a grunt. “Do you have any idea how this looks?”

“Yeah,” Touya said, stepping closer now, unflinching under the blaze. “It looks like I finally found something that makes me happy, and you can’t stand that it wasn’t your idea.”

For once, Enji didn’t fire back immediately, his mouth opened, shut, and opened again, like he was short-circuiting. Touya watched, amused, waiting.

Finally, Enji ground out, “You’re dating Hawks.”

Touya raised a brow. “You need me to say it slower?”

“You’re dating Hawks,” Enji repeated, louder, as though testing how it tasted on his tongue. His hand flexed, crackling with suppressed heat. “The number three hero. My colleague. The man who works under me-”

“Oh, he’s been under me, alright,” Touya cut in with a grin sharp enough to wound.

The sound Enji made was somewhere between a strangled roar and the death rattle of a very large animal. He slapped a hand to his forehead, flames bursting dangerously high before sputtering back down. “Why- why are you like this?”

“I don’t see an issue with how I am,” Touya said breezily.

Enji took another deep breath, clearly counting backward from ten like a man who’d been in therapy long enough to learn coping mechanisms. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped lower, calmer, but the veins in his forehead said otherwise. “I don’t care,” he said slowly, “if you’re dating him.”

Touya blinked, his smirk faltering. “What?”

“I don’t care if you’re dating him,” Enji repeated, jaw still tight. “I care that you embarrassed yourself, and him, on national television. That you undermined the work I’ve been putting into this program. That you put your personal life above your duty-”

Touya cut him off with a laugh, sharp and humorless. “You really think anyone cares about your little program right now? You saw those cameras. The city’s eating it up. If anything, you just doubled your ratings.”

Enji glared, but Touya could see the faintest twitch in his eye that said he knew Touya wasn’t wrong. The internet was probably already flooded with clips, screenshots, gifs. Hashtags trending, memes exploding, Hawks and Phoenix, caught live in high definition, too wrapped up in each other to notice the world.

“I swear,” Enji muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to give me gray hair.”

“Already got some,” Touya said cheerfully.

For a long moment, Enji just stared at him, flames guttering down until he looked more exhausted than enraged. His massive shoulders slumped, his hand dragging down his face again like the sheer effort of parenting Touya was more taxing than fighting a Nomu.

“Fine,” he said finally, the word heavy with resignation. “Date him. I don’t care. Just- try not to do it in front of live cameras again.”

Touya’s grin returned full force, sharp and victorious. “So you’re fine with it.”

“I said I don’t care,” Enji corrected, voice firm, though it sounded more like a man who had given up fighting gravity.

“Same thing.” Touya rocked back on his heels, smug as ever. “Guess that makes it official, then. Dad’s fine with me and Keigo.”

Enji groaned, muttering under his breath about mistakes, choices, and possibly the downfall of hero society, but Touya barely heard him. The victory was too sweet.

And somewhere down the hall, Rumi’s loud laugh echoed as Keigo’s protests carried faintly with it. Touya shoved his hands deeper in his pockets, smirk wide, and walked off without waiting for his father to catch up.

Chapter Text

The clip had been online for less than twelve hours and Touya already hated the internet more than he hated fluorescent lighting, Best Jeanist’s speeches, and family dinners combined.

He woke up to it. Not an alarm, not Keigo inside his apartment, not the usual throb in his temples. No. His phone buzzing nonstop on the nightstand like it was possessed. He groaned, cracked one eye open, and made the mistake of picking it up, just to see that the screen was lit up like a crime scene. Notifications stacked so high he couldn’t even see the time. There were mentions, tags, messages, and half of them weren’t even from contacts he recognised, just usernames that looked like someone had smashed a keyboard and hit “post.” He scrolled once, and there it was.

A video of the meeting room, Touya’s faint scars sharper under harsh fluorescent light, Keigo’s lips swollen, his fist tangled in blond hair while Keigo’s wings shook against a wall. The angle was terrible, of course it was, the cameraman probably hadn’t expected to be filming two pro heroes sucking face in the dark, but the internet didn’t care. The caption above it, already sitting at two million likes, read:

PHOENIX X HAWKS CAUGHT LIVE

Touya dropped the phone on his chest, stared at the ceiling, and seriously considered burning the entire telecommunications industry to ash. He lasted three seconds before curiosity killed him. He picked it back up and pressed play.

The audio made it worse. He heard Present Mic’s “Holy shit!” crystal clear, echoing around the walls. Heard Mirko’s annoying voice in that tone that meant she was already plotting new ways to make his life miserable. Heard Endeavor’s “What is going on here” like a damn funeral bell.

The comments section was a hell pit.

——

‘omg omg omg HOTWINGS IS REAL?!?!?!’

‘Hawks got slammed into the wall and I support him fully.’

‘phoenix looked like he wanted to devour him whole’

‘endeavor accidentally walking in on his son make out with another pro hero = cinematic masterpiece’

‘
this is my villain origin story bc i wasn’t in the room to witness it live’

——

Touya closed the app and immediately opened another, only to find the exact same thing. Trending hashtags stacked up like wildfire. #PhoenixXHawks. #HotWings. #FireFly. #HeroScandal.

Reading them made him sit up so fast he got dizzy.

“Fuck this,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

He went through his messages, just find that his siblings had already messaged him last night.

——

Natsuo (10:15 PM):
ur famous
well
even more than u already r

——

After that, there was one from Shoto.

——

Shoto (9:58 PM):
the memes are… something.

——

And then, mercifully, Fuyumi.

——

Fuyumi (9:05 PM):
Just breathe. It’s not that bad. Also i’ve had multiple people approach me earlier to try and ask about you and Hawks.

——

He didn’t want to know how much worse it was going to get. He turned the phone face down and shoved it under his pillow like that would kill the signal.

The door to his bedroom clicked open, because of course it fucking would, since Keigo had probably used a feather to pick his locks. As expected, Keigo strolled in, wings tucked tight but still taking up half the space, a grin already plastered across his stupid face. He had his own phone in hand, scrolling like this was Christmas morning.

“You seen it yet?” Keigo asked, voice way too bright for the end of the world.

Touya glared. “Seen what? The fact that my life’s over?”

Keigo’s grin widened. “Over? Tou, you’re trending.” He waved his phone. “Number one. Above politics, above sports, above any of the villain groups that have attacked recently.”

Touya groaned into his hands. “Kill me.”

“Can’t. The people need you.” Keigo hopped onto the edge of the bed, feathers rustling as he pulled up the video again. He hit play, volume way too high. “Look at us. Power couple vibes.”

Touya yanked the phone out of his hand and threw it across the room. It landed on the carpet with a soft thud.

“Rude,” Keigo said, but he was still grinning. “You didn’t even watch the best part.”

“There is no best part. It’s all the worst part.”

“I disagree. The way you had me pinned to the wall? Hot. And the internet agrees.”

Touya pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate you.”

“Liar.” Keigo leaned in, feathers brushing Touya’s arm. “You just hate that we got caught making out already.”

Touya considered setting the entire apartment on fire. He didn’t, only because his mattress was comfortable and he didn’t want to buy another one. The phone under his pillow buzzed again, and reluctantly, he checked it. This time the messages weren’t from his family, it was a number he didn’t recognise, a reporter, probably. Touya frowned at his screen for a moment. How did they even get his number?

The preview text read:
‘Phoenix, would you like to comment on your passionate relationship with Hawks-‘

He deleted it, only for another to come in instantly.

‘Exclusive interview offer-‘

Delete.

‘How long have you and Hawks been-‘

Delete delete delete. By the tenth one, Touya threw his phone against the wall. It didn’t break which meant he had to deal with it later.

Keigo laughed so hard he almost fell off the bed. “Man, you’re handling this so well.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, c’mon. You gotta admit, it’s kinda funny.”

“What’s funny about millions of strangers watching me kiss you in the dark?”

Keigo shrugged, wings flicking. “Could’ve been worse. At least I looked good.”

Touya stared at him, incredulous. “You looked like a horny pigeon.”

“And yet the internet still loves me,” Keigo said cheerfully. “Hashtag HotWings is iconic. Might put it on a shirt.”

Touya buried his face in his hands again, muffling the sound that came out, something between a scream and a groan.

The worst part was the calls. Not just texts, not just messages, but actual calls. His phone vibrated so much it shifted across the floor like it was trying to escape. When he finally picked it up again, it was Fuyumi calling. He answered only because he knew she’d keep trying.

“What,” he said flatly.

Her voice came through chipper, too chipper, which meant she was masking secondhand embarrassment with forced positivity. “Hi, Touya. Just checking in. How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“I said I’m fine.”

There was a pause. Then, carefully, “Well, just so you know, Mom called me this morning.”

Touya froze. “…And?”

“And she asked if you were okay. Because she saw the clip, and she thought maybe the internet would react rather… aggressively.”

Keigo wheezed in the background, choking on his own laughter. Touya snapped his head toward him, eyes narrowing. “Shut the fuck up, Kei.”

Fuyumi sighed softly through the receiver. “I told her you were fine. But she did ask if Keigo was, um, treating you well.”

Keigo lit up instantly. “Oh, I always treat him well. Tell her that, Fuyumi!”

Touya hung up.

Keigo cackled, wings flaring. “Man, i’m pretty sure your mom likes me. She’s gotta approve of me right? I’m in.”

“You’re out,” Touya shot back. “Out of my apartment.”

Keigo didn’t move, of-fucking-course he didn’t. He just leaned back on the bed, scrolling his phone again like none of this bothered him. “Fan edits are already dropping. Want to see one with dramatic music?”

“No.”

“Too late.” He shoved the screen in Touya’s face. A slow-motion clip of their kiss played, overlaid with the kind of orchestral swell usually reserved for war movies. The caption read: a hidden romance between two of our most famous heroes.

Touya snatched the phone, hurled it at the window. It bounced off harmlessly and fell onto the carpet next to the other one.

“Phones hate you,” Keigo observed.

“I hate phones,” Touya corrected.

By noon, it was unavoidable. Every channel, every site, every feed, and even the news anchors were trying not to laugh as they reported on “the unexpected reveal of Phoenix and Hawks’ relationship.” One panelist called it “a scandal.” Another called it “romantic.” A third just replayed Rumi’s smirk on loop and said, “Iconic.”

Touya ended up slouched on the couch, hood pulled low, glaring at the television like it had personally insulted him. Keigo sprawled across the opposite end, wings hanging off the cushions, absolutely delighted.

“You know,” Keigo mused, “this could work in our favor. Fans love a good relationship. PR nightmares turn into PR gold if you lean into it.”

Touya groaned. “You sound like Jeanist.”

“Don’t say that. You’ll ruin the mood.”

Touya grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. Silence filled the room, and for half a second, he thought maybe he could breathe. Then his phone buzzed again, a notification flashing across the dark screen.

Trending: #Hotwings

Touya stared at it, feeling his flames tingling beneath his skin, then slowly, deliberately, he set the phone down on the table. He abruptly stood up, walked into the kitchen, opened the freezer, and stuck his head inside.

Keigo’s laughter followed him in, warm and relentless.

Touya muttered into the bag of frozen peas, “I really fucking hate the internet.”

Keigo called back cheerfully, “The internet loves you, unfortunately.”

The freezer wasn’t helping, not really. The bag of frozen peas pressed against his forehead was cold enough to sting, but the buzzing in his skull didn’t stop. His phone, vibrating on the coffee table like it was alive, kept trying to drag him back into hell.

From the couch, Keigo’s voice carried like a damn radio. “Y’know, you’re lucky I’m not a jealous guy. Half the city’s thirsting after that video of us right now. My comments section’s a disaster.”

Touya muttered against the frozen bag, “Jealous? Please. I’m the one who should be jealous. They only care ‘cause you’re in the video. Otherwise, it’d just be me getting roasted.”

“Well,” Keigo called back, laughter sliding between his words, “there’s a lot of people who seem to think that you look hot, actually.”

Touya groaned, let the freezer door thud shut, and trudged back into the living room. His hood was still up, his face shadowed, but Keigo looked up at him with that infuriating grin like he’d just won the lottery. His wings shifted lazily against the couch cushions, feathers half-spread like he owned the space.

The buzzing phone hadn’t stopped, it rattled once, twice, then again. Touya finally grabbed it, thumb hovering over the screen like he was about to crush it. He didn’t even check who was calling, he just answered, voice flat.

“What.”

There was a pause. Then a voice, soft and careful, filled his ear. “Touya.”

He froze, his grip on the phone tightening, thumb digging into the casing. “...Mom?”

On the couch, Keigo’s eyebrows shot up and he perked instantly, wings twitching.

Touya turned his back on him, moving into the corner of the room like that would shield him somehow. His throat felt tight. He hadn’t talked to her since the family dinner, and that had been awkward after his siblings had caught him and Keigo. He’d message his mom frequently, sure, but calls were rare, always careful, always measured.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Rei said softly. The faintest smile colored her tone, the kind that made him both ache and want to slam his head into the wall. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Touya swallowed hard. His voice came out rough. “No. I was already awake.”

“I thought so. It’s been… busy, hasn’t it?”

That was one way to describe having your relationship exposed to the entire city in high definition. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Busy.”

Keigo shifted loudly behind him, obviously listening, probably trying not to laugh. Touya shot him a glare over his shoulder, mouthing don’t. Keigo raised both hands in mock innocence, wings fluttering.

Rei hesitated, then said gently, “I saw the video.”

Touya squeezed his eyes shut. “Of course you did.”

“It wasn’t intentional,” she added quickly. “It was just everywhere. Even if I wanted to avoid it, I couldn’t. It’s on the news, on the radio, in the papers already. I think the grocery store had it playing on a screen at the register.”

Touya’s stomach dropped. “Great,” he muttered. “I’m in produce now.”

Rei’s laugh was quiet, careful, but real. “I suppose you are. You’ve caused quite a stir.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

Her tone softened further. “Are you alright?”

Touya blinked, thrown. He clenched his jaw, rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“That’s what Fuyumi said.”

“Fuyumi worries,” Rei murmured. “I worry too. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Touya exhaled, a sharp huff. “Okay? Mom, it was just- ” He broke off, his face heating even as he scowled. “It was just a kiss.”

Behind him, Keigo snorted.

Touya whirled, hissed, “Shut up,” then turned back, pressing the phone harder to his ear like he could shove Keigo out of the conversation.

Rei, mercifully, ignored the background noise. “I know it was. But the way people are reacting, it’s overwhelming. I know how much you dislike your… connections being displayed like that, Touya. Being under a spotlight. I didn’t want you to feel trapped.”

The words hit harder than he wanted. He leaned against the wall, shoulders tense. “It’s… whatever,” he muttered.

Rei hummed softly, not buying it but not pressing either. “And Hawks?”

Touya’s stomach twisted. “What about him?”

“Is he treating you well?”

Keigo’s laugh exploded across the room. “I knew she’d ask!”

Touya almost dropped the phone. “I swear to god- ” He yanked the hood lower, growling into the receiver. “Mom, please don’t- he’s fine. I mean, I’m fine. He’s… annoying.”

“But good to you?” Rei asked patiently.

Touya glared at Keigo, who was leaning forward on the couch now, eyes shining with amusement. “He’s tolerable.”

“That doesn’t sound like ‘good,’” Rei said gently.

Touya scrubbed a hand over his face, groaning. “Yeah, fine, he’s good. Happy?”

“Very,” Rei said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “That’s all I wanted to know.”

Touya exhaled hard, like the air had been trapped in his chest. He muttered, “Yeah, well. I’m sure dad’s reacting shitty to that video being all over the internet.”

There was a pause. Then, carefully, “He’s actually trying to be supportive. Not very well, but what did we expect?”

Touya barked a laugh, bitter. “All he’s worried about is his reputation.”

Before Rei could respond, Keigo called from the couch, “Hi, Mrs. Todoroki! It’s Keigo!”

Touya’s eyes widened. “What the hell- ”

He tightened his grip on the phone, but Keigo had already sent feathers to snatch it out of his hand. He put it on speaker, turned the camera on, and waved like he was making a grand introduction.

Rei’s voice, soft but amused, came through. “Hello, Keigo.”

Keigo beamed, feathers puffing like a damn bird showing off. “Just wanted to say your son’s great. Bit fiery, but, y’know. Suits me.”

Touya grabbed for the phone, but Keigo dodged, wings flaring to block him. “Give it back!”

Rei laughed softly. “I’ll let you two be. I only wanted to check in. Touya, I love you.”

Touya froze, hand outstretched. His chest clenched, sharp and hot. He muttered, “...Love you too, Mom,” barely above a whisper.

The line clicked off. Silence hummed for a second, heavy and awkward.

Then Keigo collapsed backward on the couch, laughing so hard he wheezed. “Oh man, she likes me. I knew it. I’m basically in the family now.”

Touya’s face burned. He yanked the hood lower and snapped, “You’re out of the family. Out of the apartment. Out.”

Keigo ignored him entirely, stretching his wings wide as he retrieved his phone from the floor. “Anyway, since you’re done being emotional, check this out.”

Touya narrowed his eyes. “What now.”

Keigo was already scrolling. His grin widened, feathers twitching with excitement. “Fanart.”

Touya’s stomach dropped. “No.”

“Yes,” Keigo said, triumphant. “Already. Less than a day. Internet works fast.”

He turned the screen. Touya’s eyes locked on the image, two rough sketches, colored, posted with a caption full of heart emojis. One was him, drawn with sharper lines, scars shaded like firelight, pinning Keigo against a wall. The other was Keigo, wings spread, grinning even as Touya kissed him.

Touya’s brain short-circuited. “The fuck is that.”

“It’s us,” Keigo said proudly. “Look, they even got the scars right.”

Touya snatched the phone, and scrolled down to find more art, softer pieces. Them sitting together on rooftops, feathers curling into flame, them laughing, one of Keigo perched on his lap with hearts around them.

His stomach flipped, equal parts horror and something else, something he refused to name. “This is insane.”

“This is art,” Keigo corrected, wings puffing. “We’re muses now.”

Touya scowled. “We’re victims.”

“Of love,” Keigo said, grinning wider.
Touya shoved the phone back at him, jaw tight. “Get rid of it.”

“Can’t. Internet’s forever.” Keigo scrolled again, chuckling. “Ohhh, this one’s good. Look, they drew you with a leather jacket. Damn, you look hot.”

Touya groaned. “Give me that- ” He lunged again, but Keigo rolled off the couch, wings flaring, dodging just out of reach. He held the phone aloft, smirking.

“Gotta admit,” Keigo teased, “they really nailed your scowl.”

Touya grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him. Keigo ducked, laughing so hard his wings shook.

The phone buzzed again in his hand, almost slipping out. He glanced down, grin widening. “Ohhh, your brother sent me something.”

Touya froze. “Which one.”

“Natsuo,” Keigo said, opening the message. His eyes lit up. “Oh my god. It’s a meme.”

Touya lunged again. “Don’t- ”
Too late. Keigo turned the screen so he could see. It was a screencap of the kiss, overlaid with giant bold text: WHEN YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO HATE YOUR COWORKER BUT THE THRILL IS TOO GOOD.

Touya let out a strangled noise. “I’m killing him.”

Keigo doubled over, laughing until tears prickled his eyes. “Oh, man. This is funnier than I thought.”

Touya dragged both hands down his face, groaning. His chest felt tight, but not in the bad way this time, in the way that made him want to scream and laugh at the same time. He muttered through his hands, “I’m never leaving this apartment again.”

Keigo, still grinning, tucked his phone away and flopped back onto the couch, wings spilling across the cushions. “That’s fine. Internet’ll bring the world to us. We’re even bigger celebrities now, baby.”

Touya glared at the ceiling. “I’m serious. I’m not going outside.”

Keigo tilted his head, golden eyes gleaming. “Not even for patrol?”

“Fuck patrol.”

Keigo smirked. “Bet you’d come if I asked.”

Touya threw the other pillow at his face. Keigo just laughed, feathers puffing, as the phones buzzed again and again, the world outside going insane while their apartment filled with Keigo’s laughter, Touya’s groans, and the sound of a man very seriously regretting ever learning what the internet was.

The apartment finally quieted after what felt like hours of noise. Keigo had finally stopped wheezing from laughing at all the posts, and Touya had finally run out of pillows to throw at him. The phones still buzzed occasionally from the coffee table, but it was background static now, like the hum of traffic outside the window.

Touya sat curled at the far end of the couch, hood still pulled low, glaring at the floor like he could burn a hole through it. His nerves had mostly stopped buzzing, but only because exhaustion had settled heavy in his chest. He was tired of the chaos, tired of the thought of his name thrown around the world like it belonged to everyone else.

Keigo, on the other hand, looked like he was thriving. Wings spread comfortably across the cushions, one foot tucked under him, grinning like he’d just pulled the biggest heist of his career. He was scrolling again, golden eyes sharp, but instead of the usual lazy disinterest, he looked hungry. Thrilled, even.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” Touya muttered.

Keigo didn’t even bother looking up. “Of course I am. I told you, they love us. Public eats this stuff up. Do you have any idea how long I’ve had to babysit my image? Finally, I get to be seen as something other than just ‘Winged Hero Hawks, Golden Boy of the HPSC.’ It’s refreshing.”

Touya snorted, shifting deeper into the couch cushions. “So you’re using me for publicity. Got it.”

That earned him a glance, sharp but amused. “Nah. Publicity’s just the cherry on top.”

Touya’s stomach twisted, heat crawling up his neck. He pulled his hood lower, muttering, “You’re so damn smug.”

“Not smug,” Keigo said, grin widening. “Just happy.”

Touya groaned, holding back a smile, and dragging a hand down his scarred face. “God, you’re insufferable.”

Keigo finally set his phone down, wings stretching luxuriously before folding again. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes glinting with that predator’s focus that always made Touya’s chest tighten. “And yet,” he said softly, “you’re still here.”

Touya’s pulse jumped. He opened his mouth to snap back, something cutting, something to put Keigo back in his place, but Keigo was already moving. Smooth, easy, feathers brushing the air, he slid across the couch until he was right next to Touya, crowding into his space without hesitation.

“Don’t,” Touya muttered automatically, but his voice lacked heat. His chest betrayed him, thrumming like wildfire in dry grass.

“Relax,” Keigo murmured, lifting his phone. “Just hold still a sec.”

Touya’s eyes widened. “What the- no- ”

Too late. Keigo leaned in close, so close Touya could smell the faint scent of his cologne clinging to him, and snapped the photo. The flash lit the room briefly, catching Touya mid-glare, hood shadowing half his flushed face, while Keigo grinned like the cat who’d eaten the whole damn flock of birds.

Touya lunged instantly. “Delete it.”

Keigo laughed, twisting away, wings flaring to block Touya’s reach. “Not a chance.” His thumbs moved with practiced speed, faster than Touya could grab. Before Touya even made contact, the upload bar had flashed across the screen, and Keigo was tucking the phone out of reach again. “Aaand… posted.”

Touya froze, horror flooding through him. “You didn’t.”

Keigo’s grin stretched ear to ear. “I did.”

Touya shoved him, and Keigo toppled sideways into the cushions, laughing, wings flapping dramatically like he’d been mortally wounded. “You- fucking birdbrain!”

“Don’t be mad,” Keigo wheezed through his laughter, batting away Touya’s hands as they tried to wrestle the phone free. “It’s a good picture! We look hot.”

Touya’s face burned. “We look like idiots!”

“Correction, you look like you want to set me on fire, and I look like I’m winning. Which is accurate.”

Touya scowled, pinning Keigo down with a knee against his thigh, both hands gripping his wrists. “Give me the phone.”

Keigo smirked up at him, eyes gleaming, wings twitching under his weight. “Make me.”

The challenge snapped something in Touya’s chest. He shoved harder, and Keigo shoved back with a burst of strength Touya always forgot he had. In seconds, they were rolling across the couch, half-wrestling, half-laughing, wings tangling with limbs, feathers scattering like sparks.

Touya cursed under his breath, trying to grab the damn device, while Keigo twisted out of reach with infuriating ease, always just one step ahead. Every time Touya thought he had him pinned, Keigo would slip free, laughter spilling out like he was having the time of his life.

“You’re so dead when I catch you,” Touya hissed, hair falling into his face as he lunged again.

“You know you can’t catch me,” Keigo shot back, twisting their positions so suddenly Touya found himself pressed into the cushions, Keigo’s weight pinning him down, wings spread around them like a cage. “Checkmate.”

Touya’s breath hitched. His heart hammered painfully hard, the heat in his chest threatening to burst free.

“You- ” He shoved half-heartedly, scowling. “You’re so damn cocky.”

Keigo leaned closer, voice dropping low, almost a whisper. “And you like it.”

Touya’s face burned hotter, and he bit back a grin, grumbling, “Get off.”

Keigo only grinned wider. “Say please.”

Touya groaned, dragging his hands over his face. “You’re unbearable.”

“And you’re blushing,” Keigo teased.

Before Touya could curse him out again, Keigo’s phone buzzed loudly against the floor where it had fallen at some point during the chaos. His wings flicked, feathers curling. “Ooh. Bet that’s the comments already.”

Touya’s stomach dropped. “Don’t.”

But Keigo was already rolling off him, snatching the phone up with a satisfied hum. He sprawled back onto the couch, wings spilling across the cushions as he scrolled. His grin widened instantly. “Oh, man. They love it. Look at this, ‘OTP of the century.’ ‘Power couple.’ ‘Hottest photo of the year.’ I’m printing this one out for the fridge.”

Touya buried his face in his hands. “Kill me.”

“And the comments keep coming,” Keigo went on cheerfully. “Ohhh, here’s a good one: ‘Can’t believe we’re living through the Hawks-Phoenix romance arc, blessed be.’” He snorted, clearly delighted. “They’re probably writing fanfiction already, I guarantee it.”

Touya just groaned louder.

Keigo kept scrolling, wings twitching with excitement. “Oh, look, hero group chat’s blowing up too. Someone sent the link to the photo in the group.”

Touya froze, his stomach clenching at the realisation. “You’re kidding.”

Keigo’s grin turned downright wicked. “Nope. Wanna see?”

“No.”

“Too bad.” Keigo opened the chat with a flick of his thumb, and Touya could hear the flood of messages even from across the couch.

——

Best Jeanist (11:25 AM):
Professionalism, Hawks. This is not how Pro Heroes should be presenting themselves.
Present Mic (11:25 AM):
YOOOOOO LET’S GOOOOOOO
Eraserhead (11:26 AM):
Can someone get Phoenix and Hawks to please answer their phones.
Midnight (11:26 AM):
Ohhh this is juicy. Finally something fun in here.
Mirko (11:26 AM):
Called it. I knew Keigo would post something to confirm it. Pay up, Hizashi.
Present Mic (11:27 AM):
Damn it, Rumi!
Endeavor (11:27 AM):
...

——

Keigo cackled, almost falling off the couch. “Oh my god. They’re losing it.”

Touya yanked his hood lower, wishing it would swallow him whole. “Mute it. Right now.”

Keigo ignored him, still scrolling, still laughing. “Jeanist sounds like he’s gonna have a heart attack. Mic owes Rumi money. Midnight seems thrilled. Your dad’s just sent a single elipsis, nothing more.”

Touya groaned into his hands. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Keigo said lightly, leaning back with that maddening grin. “And admit it, it’s kinda fun watching them scramble.”

Touya’s chest burned, torn between frustration and something dangerously close to amusement. He shook his head, muttering, “You’re impossible.”

Keigo stretched, wings curling around him like a satisfied cat’s tail. “And irresistible.”

Touya threw another pillow at his face. Keigo just laughed, scrolling as the notifications poured in, while Touya sat beside him, heart pounding, wondering how the hell he’d gotten roped into this chaos and why, despite everything, he couldn’t bring himself to be angry at Keigo for more than a single fucking minute.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Touya woke up to the same hell as yesterday with his phone buzzing nonstop, the news anchors grinning too wide while replaying the clip of him and Keigo like it was the crown jewel of their careers, and his siblings spamming the group chat with memes that made him want to set his apartment on fire.

The only difference was that today, instead of shoving his phone under the pillow and pretending none of it existed, he rolled over and found Keigo already perched on the edge of his bed, scrolling his phone like it was oxygen.

“The internet has gotten even worse than yesterday,” Keigo announced cheerfully, golden eyes glued to the screen. “HotWings is trending worldwide. Number one in Japan, number two in the US, number three in Brazil- ”

Touya grabbed the nearest pillow and slammed it over his face. His voice came out muffled. “Kill me.”

Keigo chuckled, wings twitching. “No can do. You’ve got plans today.”

Touya yanked the pillow down enough to frown at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Keigo looked far too pleased with himself. “Date.”

Touya blinked. His brain, still half-asleep, struggled to process that single word. “Excuse me?”

“Date,” Keigo repeated, pocketing his phone and grinning like he’d just solved world hunger. “You and me. Out. On a date.”

Touya sat up so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Are you out of your mind, birdbrain? The internet just exploded because of us. People would swarm us. Reporters would follow us around everywhere. And you wanna go on a date?”

Keigo tilted his head, wings shifting lazily. “Exactly. Perfect timing. No one expects us to be dumb enough to go out right now. We’ll be in disguise. Totally safe.”

Touya narrowed his eyes. “You seriously think I’m putting on a fucking wig and sunglasses like some B-list actor hiding from paparazzi?”

“Not a wig,” Keigo said, all smug. “Unless you want one. But definitely sunglasses. And maybe a hat. Just enough to make us look like two normal guys having lunch.”

Touya stared at him. Then he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you like it,” Keigo said, leaning in with that grin Touya hated because it always managed to worm past his defenses. “C’mon, Tou. We’ve been stuck inside since yesterday. Let’s just… breathe. Pretend we’re normal for a day.”

Normal. The word dug into him like a hook. Touya swallowed hard, his chest tight, and against every shred of better judgment, he muttered, “Fine. But if we get caught, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” Keigo said, beaming like he’d already won.

Getting ready was a disaster, since Touya didn’t own “disguises.” His wardrobe consisted of hoodies, dark jeans, and jackets that smelled faintly of cigarette smoke. Sunglasses, yes, hats, no. The one beanie he managed to dig out of his drawer looked like it had survived a small war.

Keigo, of course, had come prepared. He had come to Toyya’s apartment (he picked the lock whilst Touya was asleep, again) in ripped jeans, a gray hoodie, and a baseball cap pulled low, looking irritatingly casual. His wings would’ve been the biggest issue because of the sheer size of them and because they were too recognizable. So he had sent most of his feathers to sit in Touya’s room, which left the bases of his wings on his back. He hid them under a long coat, small feathers pressed down until they barely showed through the fabric.

“You look like you’re very obviously hiding yourself, Kei,” Touya muttered, tugging his own hood over his head and jamming the sunglasses onto his face.

“Whatever you say, hot stuff,” Keigo said, spinning in a circle like he was showing off a runway outfit. “I think I look mysterious. Brooding. Sexy, even.”

Touya deadpanned. “You look like an idiot.”

“An idiot you’re about to go on a date with.”

Touya groaned, but it didn’t stop the small smile he tried to hide.

They left the apartment through the fire escape, climbing down three flights and slipping into an alley where the press wouldn’t see them. The city stretched out ahead, loud and restless, cars honking and neon signs buzzing. It felt dangerous, stupid, and overly reckless, and for some reason, that only made Touya’s blood run hotter.

Keigo walked beside him like this was nothing. He was whistling with his hands shoved into his hoodie pocket and sunglasses hiding the sharp gleam of his eyes. The man had no survival instincts.

Touya, on the other hand, scanned every corner like he was on patrol. “If anyone recognises us- ”

“They won’t,” Keigo interrupted. “Relax. You’re making us look more suspicious by glaring at everyone like you’re about to commit arson.”

“I am about to commit arson.”

“Not on our date, you’re not.” Keigo’s grin flashed, quick and bright. “Save it for patrol.”

Touya muttered something under his breath, but he kept walking.

The café Keigo dragged him to was tucked into a side street, small enough that Touya might’ve missed it if not for the stupidly cheerful mural painted across the brick wall. Inside, it smelled like coffee beans and sugar, warm air wrapping around him the second they stepped in.

It wasn’t crowded, thank god. Just a handful of people hunched over laptops or sipping lattes, none of them paying attention to two guys slipping into a corner booth.

Keigo pulled his hood down and slouched comfortably against the seat, stretching his legs out like he owned the place. “See? Safe.”

Touya shoved his sunglasses onto the table, still scowling. “Still stupid.”

“Stupidly romantic,” Keigo corrected, grinning as he snagged the menu. “What do you want? I’m buying.”

“I don’t care.”

“You do care. You just don’t want to admit it.”

Touya pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kei, if you get us caught, i swear- ”

But Keigo just leaned across the table, lowering his voice. “You’re cute when you’re cranky, y’know.”

Touya froze, heat crawling up his neck. He hissed, “Don’t- ”

Too late. Keigo winked, then sauntered off to order at the counter, leaving Touya simmering in the corner booth like a pot about to boil over.

When Keigo came back, he dropped a steaming mug in front of him. Touya could see his reflection staring back at him from the black liquid. Black coffee, exactly how Touya liked it.

Touya narrowed his eyes. “You know what i like.”

“Of course I do,” Keigo said easily, sipping his own drink, something sugar-loaded with whipped cream piled on top. “It’s what you always have at the start of our patrols.”

Touya muttered, “How did you even notice?” But he drank anyway.

The warmth slid down his throat, grounding him. For a second, just a second, it almost felt normal.

Keigo leaned back, watching him with that stupid amused smile. “So. Date’s going great so far, right?”

Touya snorted. “We’re hiding in a café like criminals.”

“Exactly. Romantic criminals.”

Touya groaned, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. “Why am I here.”

“Because you like me,” Keigo said without hesitation.

Touya’s stomach twisted and he felt his heart rate pick up. He muttered, “Debatable.”

Keigo just grinned wider. “Not debatable at all.”

The longer they sat there, the more Touya felt the tightness in his chest ease. No one came over, no one stared. The world outside was still screaming about them, probably, but in here, it was quiet, and warm, and perfect in a way that suited them.

Keigo filled the silence with easy chatter, complaints about patrol schedules, jokes about people he’d worked with, a story about Mirko threatening to punch a villain so hard his teeth would turn into shrapnel.

Touya listened, grunted responses, occasionally snorted when the birdbrain said something genuinely funny.

For once, he didn’t feel like the ground was crumbling under him. For once, it wasn’t about the internet or Endeavor or the weight of a spotlight. It was just coffee and Keigo’s stupid grin across the table.

And that scared the hell out of him.

He stared into his mug, fingers tight around the ceramic. “This is a bad idea,” he muttered.

Keigo tilted his head. “What, the date?”

“All of it.” Touya gestured vaguely, scowl sharpening. “Us. This. Whatever the hell it is.”

Keigo didn’t flinch. He just leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes steady. “You regret it?”

Touya’s throat closed. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to spit it out, sharp and easy, like everything else he threw at Keigo. But the words stuck, because the truth sat heavy in his chest, burning hotter than his flames.

“No,” he muttered finally, staring at the coffee. “That’s the problem.”

The silence stretched, but Keigo didn’t laugh, didn’t tease Touya. He just sat there, gaze softening in a way that made Touya want to bolt.

Then Keigo said quietly, “Good. Because I don’t regret it either.”

Touya’s heart thudded painfully hard. He gritted his teeth, dragging his hood lower over his face. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” Keigo said lightly, but the warmth in his voice lingered, wrapping around Touya like smoke.

Touya took another long sip of coffee, pretending it would burn the heat off his face.

They lingered longer than they should’ve. Keigo ordered another sugar-loaded drink, Touya stuck with black, and somehow they slid into a rhythm that felt dangerously easy. Keigo’s laughter filled the booth, Touya’s scowls softened into smirks he tried to hide, and for a moment, just a moment, it felt like the world outside didn’t exist.

That was, until the bell over the door jingled. Touya’s head snapped up instantly and his body instinctively tensed.

Two teenagers walked in, phones in hand, giggling to each other. They glanced around and Touya’s stomach dropped when one of them froze, eyes narrowing.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

Keigo leaned back, casual as ever, though his smile had shifted into a strained grin. “Relax. They don’t know for sure.”

The teenager tilted her head, whispering to her friend, who looked over too. Both of them squinted. Touya’s pulse spiked, ge yanked his hood lower, shoved his sunglasses back on, and muttered, “We’re leaving.”

Keigo sipped his drink like nothing was wrong. “They’re just kids.”

“They’re kids with phones,” Touya said, his voice wavering with panic.

And sure enough, one of the girls was already lifting her phone like she was trying to be subtle about it.

Touya stood abruptly, grabbing Keigo’s hand. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Keigo blinked, then grinned like this was all part of the fun. He let himself be dragged, wings tucked tight, as they slipped out the side door into the alley.
Touya’s chest was burning, his blood rushing hot. He yanked his beanie down tighter, muttering, “Fucking told you this was a bad idea.”

Keigo just laughed, his voice light in the cold air. “It’s a good date, Tou.”

Touya spun on him, scowling. “We almost got caught.”

“But we didn’t,” Keigo pointed out, eyes glinting. “And you were holding my hand.”

Touya froze, realizing belatedly that he still was. Heat shot up his neck and he dropped Keigo’s hand like it burned. “Shut up.”

Keigo just grinned wider, feathers twitching under the coat. “Make me.”

Touya groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Keigo said cheerfully, bumping his shoulder as they walked down the alley. “So, what’s next? Lunch? A walk by the river? Romantic rooftop getaway?”

Touya muttered, “Home. That’s exactly where we should go instead of being dumbasses in public.”

Keigo’s laughter echoed off the brick walls, warm and relentless.

Touya, despite everything, couldn’t stop the faintest twitch of a smile from tugging at his scarred mouth as they disappeared deeper into the city.

The city was alive in that way Touya always hated, loud noises everywhere, too bright lights shining in his eyes, and buildings that were too crowded. Cars roared down the street, horns blaring like some chaotic orchestra. Neon signs flickered above storefronts, hawking everything from noodles to knockoff hero merch. Pedestrians pressed shoulder to shoulder, a current of bodies sweeping down the sidewalk like no one had ever heard of personal space.

Normally, he avoided this mess. Crowds made his skin itch, noise made his head pound, and people made him want to set fire to the nearest trashcan just to watch them scatter. But right now, he was in the middle of it. Hood pulled low, sunglasses hiding half his face, shoulders tense as he moved with the flow. And Keigo, of course, was right beside him sunglasses shoved onto his face, jacket zipped up, baseball cap pulled low, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

Touya muttered, “I still think this is the dumbest thing we’ve ever done.”

Keigo bumped his shoulder, voice annoyingly cheerful. “Nah. This is the most romantic thing we’ve ever done.”

Touya shot him a sideways glare. “We’re swimming in a sea of sweaty strangers. What the hell is romantic about this?”

Keigo’s grin widened. “Hand-holding potential.”

Touya blinked, confusion etched into his features. “What-”

Before he could finish his question, Keigo’s hand brushed his. It was light, and way too casual. Touya stiffened instantly, waiting for the grab, the shove, the inevitable teasing. He waited to yank his hand away, to growl something about personal space, but then Keigo’s fingers slid against his, warm and easy, and without thinking, Touya’s hand closed around his. Just like that.

It felt strange, and it made his heart beat so loud he swore everyone around them could hear it. No one gasped and pointed. The crowd kept flowing, people bumping past, voices chattering about weekend plans and grocery lists.

Keigo, though, Keigo noticed everything. His grin softened, turned smug, golden eyes hidden by sunglasses but somehow still gleaming.

“Well, well,” he murmured. “Look who’s not pushing me away.”

Touya’s face heated instantly. “Shut up, Kei.”

“You’re not denying it, though.”

Touya tried not to let his nerves show. “You talk too much.”

“I think that I don’t talk enough,” Keigo shot back, clearly delighted. “I could go on all day about this. The legendary Phoenix, holding hands with me in public. Scandalous.”

Touya groaned, dragging his hood lower. “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Debatable.”

Keigo laughed, wings twitching beneath his coat as they let the crowd carry them forward.

Touya told himself he was only holding on because the crowd was too thick, because if they got separated it’d be a pain in the ass, because Keigo was an idiot who’d get himself mugged if left alone for five minutes. That was it and there was absolutely nothing more to it. Definitely not because the warmth felt grounding in the chaos, or because his chest wasn’t buzzing quite so angrily with Keigo’s fingers laced through his.

Nope. None of that.

They walked like that for blocks, weaving through the crush of people. Street vendors shouted their wares, waving skewers of grilled meat, steaming buns, glossy candied fruit on sticks. The air was thick with smoke and spice, sweet and savory all tangled together, making Touya’s stomach growl before he could stop it.

Keigo’s head snapped toward him instantly, grin widening. “Hungry?”

“No.”

“Your stomach disagrees.”

Touya scowled. “My stomach is wrong.”

Keigo tugged him toward a food stand without asking, practically dragging him through the crowd. The vendor was an old guy with a beard down to his chest, flipping skewers over a sizzling grill. Smoke curled into the air, carrying the sharp bite of spices.

Keigo leaned in, charming smile turned up to eleven. “Two skewers, please.”

Touya hissed, tugging his hood lower. “Kei, we’re supposed to- ”

“Relax,” Keigo cut in. “No one’s paying attention.”

Touya muttered darkly but didn’t stop him.

The old man handed over two skewers dripping with sauce, meat glistening in the glow of the grill. Keigo paid, handed one to Touya, and immediately took a huge bite out of his own, sauce smearing across the corner of his mouth.

Touya stared at him. “You’re a messy eater.”

“Cause the food is delicious,” Keigo said through a mouthful, grinning.

Touya rolled his eyes, but he bit into his own skewer anyway. The flavor hit instantly, it was sweet, smoky, a punch of spice that lingered on his tongue. He groaned before he could stop himself, muffled by the food.

Keigo’s grin turned smug. “Good, huh?”

Touya glanced at him, chewing. “You’re imagining it. I didn’t react.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

They moved back into the crowd, chewing, sauce dripping onto napkins Keigo had swiped. Touya told himself it was fine, just food, just a distraction, nothing more, until a voice cut through the noise.

“Wait- hey, is that-?”

Touya’s chest seized, he froze mid-step, heart hammering. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man squinting at them, phone already halfway raised.

“Shit,” Touya muttered, gripping Keigo’s hand harder.

Keigo didn’t miss a beat, and he tugged him sharply into the crowd, weaving fast between bodies. “This way.”

“Kei- ”

“Trust me.”

They shoved through, shoulder to shoulder with strangers, people cursing as they pushed past. Touya’s pulse roared in his ears, every nerve sparking.

He could feel eyes turning, could hear a couple of voices muttering, “Wait, was that Hawks?”, “No way, right?”, but Keigo was moving fast, cutting between a woman with shopping bags and a guy yelling into his phone, dragging Touya along like he’d done this a thousand times before.

Touya hissed, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” Keigo admitted, laughter bubbling under his words.

“You’re insane.”

“Romantically insane.”

Touya groaned, yanking his hood lower again as they ducked into a side alley. The noise of the crowd dulled behind them, replaced by the faint drip of a leaking pipe and the buzz of a flickering light overhead.

They stopped, finally, pressed against the brick wall, breathing hard. Touya’s chest heaved, his grip still tight on Keigo’s hand.

Keigo’s grin spread wide, wild and bright. His laughter burst out, uncontrolled, filling the narrow alley. He leaned against the wall, clutching his stomach as he wheezed. “Oh, man. Did you see his face? That guy was two seconds from posting us to his feed.”

Touya stared at him, incredulous. “You think this is funny?”

Keigo choked out, “It’s hilarious. We’re like, forbidden lovers on the run. But not so forbidden. More like accidentally public relationship, hiding from the world. Classic romance vibes.”

Touya pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Keigo said, still laughing, “but at least i can be an idiot with you.”

Touya’s lips twitched before he could stop them. Just a fraction but it was enough that Keigo caught it, of course, because he caught everything.

“Aha,” Keigo said, pointing triumphantly. “You smiled.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

Touya scowled, heat crawling up his neck. “You’re making stuff up.”

Keigo’s grin only widened, his laughter echoing in the alley, warm and relentless.

Despite every ounce of common sense screaming at him, Touya couldn’t help but let the corner of his mouth twitch again. Enough to feel like maybe, just maybe, this ridiculous date wasn’t the worst decision of his life.

Chapter Text

The walk back to Touya’s apartment was like a goddamn endurance test. Every step felt like a gamble, every glance from a stranger was a potential landmine. The city was too alive for Touya’s liking, with horns blaring, neon signs flickering, the press of bodies moving like a tide he wanted to drown in and burn down at the same time. He tugged his hood lower, pressing his sunglasses further onto his face, and stalked forward like someone had a knife at his back.

Keigo, of course, was the opposite. He strolled beside Touya like this was the world’s most casual evening walk. He pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose every few minutes, grin curled faintly at the edges. He whistled sometimes, quiet, just enough to slip through the noise, and every note made Touya’s nerves snap tighter.

“You’re drawing attention,” Touya muttered, voice barely audible past the thrum of traffic.

“No i’m not,” Keigo replied easily. “I’m blending in. Everyone whistles. It’s what normal, inconspicuous, completely-not-famous guys do.”

Touya shot him a look. “You sound like a cartoon thief trying not to get noticed.”

“Alright, but at least i’d be a hot cartoon theif,” Keigo replied, lips twitching.

Touya exhaled through his nose and resisted the urge to disappear into the crowd. Keigo thrived off irritating people like it was sunlight.

The crowd thinned as they cut down side streets, slipping into the narrower veins of the city. The lights weren’t so blinding anymore, the noise dulled into scattered voices and the occasional rumble of an engine. The shadows hung heavier, broken by glowing signs advertising ramen shops, coin laundries, dingy arcades. It should’ve felt safer, less likely for them to get caught, but it didn’t.

Touya kept scanning every face, every pair of eyes that lingered even a fraction too long. He saw phones clutched in hands, lenses glinting like weapons. Every one of them could shatter the thin disguise he and Keigo were clinging to.

Keigo didn’t seem fazed. His stride was loose, his shoulders relaxed, like he’d walked a thousand alleys and knew every exit. He hummed under his breath again, low and steady, and Touya wanted to strangle him for being so calm.

“You look like you’re enjoying this,” Touya said flatly.

Keigo tilted his head, grin flicking across his mouth. “Maybe I am.”

“Kei,” Touya said, quiet but sharp. “We almost got caught. That is definitely not fun”

“Not fun,” Keigo agreed, his voice easy, unshaken. “But it’s exhilarating. Big difference.”

Touya groaned and dropped his head forward in defeat. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet you still like me,” Keigo shot back, quick as always.

Touya didn’t respond. He didn’t trust his mouth not to betray him.

The alley spat them out into a wider street, where the traffic noise rose again. A tram rattled past, sparks scraping the wires above. A bright glow spilled from a convenience store, light catching on the wet patches of pavement. A handful of people lingered outside, smoking or being on their phones.

Touya stiffened instantly, feeling too exposed. Keigo noticed, of course. He always noticed. He leaned close enough for his shoulder to brush Touya’s, voice pitched low. “Relax. Just a bunch of bored locals. Nobody’s looking at us.”

“Everyone’s looking,” Touya muttered.

His pulse hammered in his throat, his skin prickling with the need to move faster. Keigo didn’t argue or tease him, he just slid his hand into Touya’s, fingers warm, grip steady. Like it was nothing. Like they weren’t two top heroes hiding in plain sight, one wrong look away from a headline.

Touya almost yanked away on instinct, but the press of Keigo’s hand grounded him in a way that pissed him off, and he let it stay. His hood shadowed half his face, his sunglasses the other half, and in between, his mouth twisted into something dangerously close to a frown that wasn’t really a frown.

“Hand-holding’s less suspicious,” Keigo said smoothly, like he was doing Touya a favor. “Couples blend in better than two guys walking ten inches apart with one of them glancing at everyone.”

“we still look suspicious,” Touya muttered.

Keigo’s grin curved slow and smug. “No we don’t. Besides, i like this.”

Touya’s jaw clenched, but his grip didn’t loosen. The store crowd barely glanced at them, a man stubbed his cigarette out on the curb, two girls laughed at something on one of their phones, someone in a suit muttered into his earpiece. None of them looked long enough to pierce the flimsy ‘disguise’ Touya had pulled over himself.

By the time they turned another corner, the tension in his chest had eased just enough for him to breathe. It wasn’t enough to relax, Touya could never be relaxed as long as he was in public.

Keigo’s thumb brushed absently against his knuckles as they walked. It was confusing, distracting, too casual for what it was and Touya didn’t know how to feel about it.

The closer they got to his apartment, the narrower the streets became. Familiar cracks in the pavement, familiar graffiti scrawled across dumpsters and crumbling brick. The air smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and the greasy food of a nearby takeout.

Touya’s pulse climbed higher the nearer they drew. It wasn’t because of the city, but because of the thought of walking back into his apartment with Keigo still glued to his side, still grinning like this was the best day of his life.

When they finally reached the block, Touya slowed automatically, scanning. The street was mostly empty, just one old woman shuffling with grocery bags and a kid skateboarding farther down. No cameras, no loitering reporters. Safe enough.

“Aren’t we going up?” Keigo said lightly, tugging him toward the side street that led to the fire escape.

Touya frowned. “You could just fly us up.”

“Too noticeable,” Keigo replied. “My wings are too obvious, wouldn’t want someone seeing me flying into the apartment. And my feathers are still in your room, it would be very noticeable if i brought them down from up there. But two dudes climbing rusty stairs like everyone else? No one will look twice.”

“Whatever,” Touya muttered.

The metal rungs rattled under their weight as they climbed. Keigo moved effortlessly, like he’d done it a hundred times. Touya’s hoodie snagged on a bolt, his sunglasses slipped down his nose, and every creak of the structure made his jaw tighten.

When they reached his window, Touya pushed it open with practiced force. The familiar stale air of his apartment washed over him, cigarette smoke, faint ash, and the lingering scent of takeout.

He climbed in first, pushing his hood back and pulling his sunglasses off his face, throwing them toward the sofa. The instant his boots hit the floor, tension bled out of his shoulders in a wave he couldn’t stop.

Keigo slipped in after him, fluid as always. He shut the window quietly, tugged off his cap, and shook his hair out like he’d just come in from a day at the beach instead of a borderline manhunt. The base of his wings flexed under the coat until Keigo pulled it off, the hoodie following soon after. His feathers slipped out from under touya’s bedroom door, back to Keigo’s wings. Some of the feathers fell loose, scattering red across the dull apartment floor.

Touya glared at the feathers like they’d betrayed him. “You’re shedding all over my place again.”

“Adds character,” Keigo said, kicking his shoes off and tossing his cap onto the couch. “Makes it known that i’m here.”

Touya scoffed. “This place doesn’t need more character. It needs burning down.”

“Mm, you’d miss it if it went up in flames.”

Touya shot him a look, knowing full well that was true. “Don’t bet on it.”

But Keigo only grinned, like he knew better. Touya pulled his jacket off, tossed it onto the back of a chair, and stalked toward the kitchen counter. His nerves still buzzed from the close calls, his blood still hot from the city. He wanted to pace, to burn off the leftover adrenaline, but instead he poured himself a glass of water and downed it in three gulps.

Behind him, he could hear Keigo moving around, casual and careless, like he owned the place. Coat shrugged off, sunglasses abandoned on the table, wings stretching wide now that the feathers were back with Keigo. The soft rustle of feathers filled the silence, irritating and familiar at once.

Touya muttered, “You make yourself at home too damn fast.”

“Because it feels like home,” Keigo said easily, dropping onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. He sprawled out, one leg over the armrest, wings half-draped across the cushions. “Cozy. Smells like you. Best nap spot in the city.”

Touya turned, water glass tight in his hand. “Don’t start.”

“Start what?” Keigo tilted his head, smile lazy. “Complimenting you?”

“Invading,” Touya shot back. “You act like this is your place.”

Keigo spread his arms like he was proving a point. “You let me in.”

“Didn’t have much choice. You pick the lock every time anyway.”

“Yeah, but this time you didn’t yell about it.” Keigo’s grin curved sharper. “Progress.”

Touya gritted his teeth and set the glass down hard enough that it clinked. Keigo just lay there, infuriatingly calm, watching him like he had all the time in the world. Like Touya wasn’t vibrating with leftover panic, with the fear of headlines and the burn of almost-being-seen.

And underneath it all, the traitorous warmth of knowing Keigo’s hand had steadied him through it.

Touya wanted to tell him to leave. Wanted to tell him this whole thing was a mistake. Wanted to light the damn apartment on fire and watch the problem solve itself in smoke and ash.
Instead, he just sighed and muttered, “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Keigo’s voice came soft, steady, more serious than before. “Nah. I’m the reason you’ll stay alive longer.”

Touya froze, hand still pressed to his face. His chest twisted and when he looked up, Keigo wasn’t grinning anymore. He was just watching him, golden eyes steady, expression stripped of all the teasing edges.

And that was somehow worse.

Touya’s throat closed, he turned away first, grabbing for the pack of cigarettes on the counter like it was a lifeline. His fingers shook a little as he lit one.
The flame flared, caught, and smoke curled upward. It was grounding, something he could hold onto.

Behind him, Keigo shifted, wings rustling, but didn’t move closer. For once, the silence was heavy.

Touya exhaled smoke toward the ceiling, eyes narrowing against the burn. His pulse still hadn’t slowed. Not from the near-misses, not from the run through the crowd, and not from Keigo’s hand still burning like it was imprinted on his.

And when Keigo finally spoke again, his voice was quiet enough that Touya almost missed it under the hum of the city outside.

“So,” Keigo said, soft and sure. “Round two of the date, or you kicking me out?”

Touya’s stomach twisted, heat crawling up his neck. He didn’t answer right away. The cigarette burned between his fingers, the thin curl of smoke rising toward the ceiling. He took another drag, the taste bitter and grounding, and stared at the faint glow of the ember instead of at Keigo because he could feel Keigo’s gaze. It pressed against his skin, crawled down his neck, settled in his chest.

Touya blew smoke out in a long stream and finally muttered, “You’re not leaving.”

“Not unless you kick me out,” Keigo said, voice warm, amused.

Touya flicked ash into the tray. “You’d just pick the lock again tomorrow.”

“Exactly,” Keigo said, a grin curling back into his voice. “So what’s the point of fighting it?”

Touya turned finally, leaning back against the counter, cigarette still between his fingers. Keigo was sprawled across the couch like he owned it, wings spread in a lazy sprawl, hoodie riding up to bare a strip of his stomach. His hair was mussed from the hat, his cap tossed onto the cushions. His sunglasses sat forgotten on the table.

He looked comfortable. Too comfortable. Like this dingy, smoke-stained apartment was the best place in the world.

Touya’s throat tightened and he ground the cigarette out hard enough to make the ashtray clatter.

Keigo tilted his head. “So?”

Touya dragged a hand through his hair and muttered, “So what?”

Keigo’s grin sharpened. “Round two.”

Before Touya could snap back, Keigo pushed up from the couch. His movements were fluid, easy, confident in a way that made Touya’s chest burn hotter. He crossed the space between them in a few strides, wings rustling, golden eyes bright even in the dim light. Touya straightened automatically, shoulders stiff, pulse picking up. He tried to glare, to look like he wasn’t thrown off, but Keigo’s grin only widened.

“You’re glaring,” Keigo said softly.

“You’re in my space,” Touya muttered.

“Your space is my favorite place,” Keigo shot back, stepping closer until there was barely an inch between them.

Touya’s hand twitched at his side. He wanted to shove him back, wanted to yank him closer, wanted to burn the whole apartment down around them just so the fire crawling under his skin wouldn’t feel as hot.

Instead, he groaned, “You’re such a pain in the ass.”

Keigo leaned in, close enough that Touya could feel the warmth of his breath against his jaw. “And you like it.”

Touya opened his mouth to argue, but Keigo’s lips brushed his before he could get a word out.
The kiss was soft at first, almost gentle. Infuriatingly gentle, actually, like Keigo was giving him a chance to push him away. Touya didn’t push him away. His chest twisted, his breath stuttered, and then Keigo pressed harder, firmer, lips moving with a confidence that made Touya’s knees weak.

Touya grabbed his hoodie and yanked him closer, crushing their mouths together. The kiss turned messy, desperate, the kind that left no space for air.

Keigo groaned low in his throat, wings twitching, hands sliding up to Touya’s jaw. His thumbs brushed over faintly scarred skin, gentle in a way that made Touya’s stomach knot. He hated how much it made him feel. Hated it and wanted more of it all at once.

Their teeth clicked, breath hot, lips bruising. Keigo kissed like he didn’t need to breathe, like he’d drown gladly if Touya pulled him under. When Touya finally tore back, his chest was heaving, and his heart was hammering against his chest. Keigo was grinning, lips red and swollen, eyes gleaming.

“Round two,” he whispered, breathless.
Touya’s pulse pounded in his ears. He wanted to walk away, wanted to tell him to go, but instead he dragged him back in and kissed him again.

This time Keigo didn’t hold back. His hands slid down, gripping Touya’s waist, pulling him tight against him. Touya felt the solid press of his body, the heat, the want, and it sent a shiver down his spine. He gasped against Keigo’s mouth when fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt, calloused palms sliding over his scarred skin. The touch burned, not with fire but with something heavier, something deeper.

Touya grabbed his wrist automatically, ready to shove him away, but Keigo paused, golden eyes flicking up to his, waiting.

Touya’s chest twisted and his grip loosened. He muttered, “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Never,” Keigo whispered, and then his hand slid higher.

Touya’s breath hitched, his skin prickling under every brush of fingers. Keigo touched him like he was something fragile, something worth holding carefully, and Touya hated it, needed it, couldn’t breathe through it. Their mouths met again, harder, hungrier. Keigo pressed him back against the counter, bodies flush, wings spreading wide enough to block out everything around them. The apartment filled with the sound of their ragged breaths, the rustle of fabric, the sharp scrape of Touya’s ring against Keigo’s zipper on his jacket when he grabbed him closer.

Keigo’s mouth trailed down, hot against his jaw, his throat. Touya tipped his head back despite himself, a groan slipping out before he could swallow it. Teeth grazed his skin, lips soothed the sting, and Touya’s fingers twisted in Keigo’s hoodie.

“Fuck,” Touya hissed when Keigo bit down just enough to make pleasure spark up his spine.

Keigo’s laugh was low, rough, vibrating against his skin. “Sound good when you curse like that.”

Touya shoved him lightly, breathless, a smile twitching at his lips. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” Keigo murmured, and then his mouth was moving lower, dragging fire down Touya’s throat.

Touya’s hands fisted in his hair without thinking, pulling him back up for another bruising kiss. Their teeth clashed again, messy and reckless, but neither of them cared. It was too much, not enough, and Touya couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

Keigo’s hands slid under his shirt fully now, palms hot against his ribs, thumbs brushing the jagged edges of scars. Touya flinched once, sharp and instinctive, but Keigo didn’t stop, didn’t pull away. He just held him tighter, like he was steadying him. Touya’s chest heaved, his body trembling with more than adrenaline. He let Keigo touch, let him explore, because the fire inside him was too much to contain and this was the only thing that cooled it.

When Keigo’s thumb brushed over his nipple, Touya gasped, a sound sharp and broken that he immediately wanted to swallow down. Heat shot through his chest, down his spine, and he jerked in his grip.

Keigo froze for half a heartbeat, then grinned against his mouth, wicked and smug. “Sensitive, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Touya hissed, his face burning hotter than his flames.

But Keigo didn’t shut up. His grin widened, his thumb circling again, slow and deliberate, until Touya’s knees nearly buckled. Touya’s breath came ragged, his grip tight in Keigo’s hoodie, his teeth sinking into his lower lip to keep another sound from slipping out.

Keigo leaned close, lips brushing his ear. “You sound good when you let it out.”

Touya growled low in his throat and dragged him into another kiss, desperate and rough, because if Keigo kept talking he was going to combust. The world narrowed to heat, to hands, to mouths, to the overwhelming press of Keigo against him. The counter dug into his back, feathers brushed his arms, every nerve was on fire. He couldn’t think. Didn’t want to.

Keigo’s hand slid lower, gripping his hip hard enough to bruise, dragging their bodies together until Touya groaned into his mouth, unable to bite it back this time.

A sharp, sudden knock rang out in the silence. Touya froze instantly, chest heaving, eyes snapping toward the door.

Keigo didn’t move, instead his lips were still inches from Touya’s, his grin faint and feral. “Ignore it,” he whispered.

Thre was another knock, louder this time.

Touya’s jaw clenched. “Kei- ”

“Probably just a neighbor,” Keigo said easily, pressing another kiss to his mouth. “Don’t care.”

Touya kissed him back, desperate, trying to drown out the sound. But then the knocking came again, harder this time, insistent, rattling the frame.

“Shit,” Touya muttered, breaking away, breath ragged.

Keigo’s hands stayed on his hips, grip firm, unwilling to let go. “Let them wait.”

“They’re not gonna stop,” Touya hissed, glancing toward the door. His chest felt tight again, the rush of adrenaline crashing back in.

The knocking grew louder, more urgent, each hit echoing through the apartment.

Touya groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Fucking hell.”

Keigo pressed a kiss to his jaw, soft and infuriatingly calm. “We’re busy.”

The knock came again, sharp and steady, rattling the frame like whoever it was didn’t know the meaning of patience.

Touya stiffened for half a second, his chest still heaving, lips swollen from Keigo’s kisses. His instincts screamed at him to move, to check, to make sure nobody was about to plaster their faces across the internet.

Keigo didn’t flinch. He leaned in, mouth brushing Touya’s ear, voice low and teasing. “Ignore it, please Tou.”

Touya’s jaw clenched. “You don’t know who it- ”

Keigo kissed him hard before he could finish, stealing the words out of his mouth. His hand slid up under Touya’s shirt again, thumb brushing over his chest in a way that made him moan, his pulse spiking.

The knock came again.

Touya groaned into the kiss, dragging Keigo closer, muttering against his mouth, “This is stupid.”

“Yeah,” Keigo whispered back, grinning, “but it’s better than answering the door.”

A single knock thumped against the door.

Touya’s head snapped toward the door, but Keigo caught his jaw, pulling his attention back. “Don’t,” he murmured. “They’ll go away.”

As if on cue, a voice cut through the apartment. Low, rough, familiar.
“Touya.”

His father’s voice.

Touya froze as heat shot through his veins, but not the usual angry, choking kind. This time it was disbelief, edged with the ridiculous timing of it all. He’d been half-wrapped around Keigo, and now Enji was on the other side of his door like some cosmic joke.

Keigo’s lips twitched against his skin, muffling a laugh. “Oh, this is perfect.”

“Shut up,” Touya hissed, shoving at him lightly, though he didn’t move away.

Enji knocked once more, not as hard this time. His voice sounded worn, almost flat. “Touya. I know you’re in there. I just… want to talk.”

Touya scowled, tension buzzing in his shoulders, but Keigo just leaned in, pressing soft, distracting kisses along his jaw, down his throat, not giving him space to spiral.

“Don’t answer,” Keigo whispered between kisses. “Let him stand there. He’ll leave.”

The voice came again, quieter. “I’m not here to fight.” there was a pause, then, with a weight Touya had never heard from him before, “I just wanted to talk about the other day.”

Touya’s breath hitched despite himself. But Keigo’s mouth found the hollow of his throat, sucking just enough to pull a sharp groan out of him, and the words outside the door blurred into background noise.

Outside footsteps sounded, heavy and slow, retreating down the hall. Silence followed, broken only by the sound of their breathing, tangled together against the counter.

Keigo pulled back just enough to grin, golden eyes glinting. “See? Gone.”

Touya glared, though his lips betrayed him with the faintest twitch upward. “You’re a menace.”

“Your favorite menace,” Keigo said easily, dipping back in to kiss him again.

This time Touya didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Keigo’s hoodie, yanked him closer, and kissed him hard enough to shut him up.

The knock, the voice, the world outside, all of it was gone now. None of it mattered. All that mattered was the heat in Keigo’s mouth, the press of his hands, the steady rhythm of his body against his.

Keigo groaned low, his hands roaming with more confidence now. He tugged Touya’s shirt up, bunching it under his arms until the cool air hit scarred skin. Touya shivered, but didn’t stop him.

“You’re gorgeous,” Keigo murmured, voice rough with want. His thumbs traced lines across Touya’s ribs, brushing every uneven edge, every mark. “Don’t care what anyone says.”

Touya huffed a laugh, sharp but not bitter. “You really don’t shut up, do you?”

“Not when I’ve got you like this,” Keigo shot back, grinning before kissing him again.

Touya groaned, heat flooding his chest, his stomach, everywhere Keigo touched. His hands slid under Keigo’s hoodie in return, palms dragging over warm skin, nails scratching lightly just to hear Keigo’s breath stutter.

Keigo grinned against his mouth, pulling back just enough to say, “Tease.”

“Payback,” Touya muttered, dragging his nails again.

Keigo’s laugh was breathless, cut off by another kiss. It turned messy fast, their teeth clashing, tongues tangling, hands pulling and grabbing like neither of them could get close enough.

Keigo pressed him harder against the counter, wings spreading wide to balance. Touya felt the brush of feathers against his arms, soft and steady, and it only made his chest burn hotter.

When Keigo’s mouth trailed down again, kissing along his throat, his collarbone, Touya tipped his head back to give him more access, and let out a sound he couldn’t swallow down. Keigo’s grin curved against his skin, smug and pleased.
“Bedroom,” Keigo murmured, lips brushing his neck. “Now.”

Touya’s stomach flipped. He wanted to argue, to snap something sarcastic, but the way Keigo’s hands gripped his waist and the heat flooding his veins left him too dizzy to want to fight.

“Fine,” he muttered, trying not to sound as breathless as he was.

Keigo grinned like he’d just won the lottery. He grabbed Touya’s hand, tugging him away from the counter. Their shoes scuffed against the floor, wings brushing walls, lips meeting again and again in quick, heated kisses as they stumbled down the hall.

Touya’s back hit the wall once, a framed photo rattling above them, and Keigo laughed into his mouth, low and warm. “Clumsy.”

“Shut up,” Touya growled, dragging him into another kiss.

By the time they reached his bedroom, Touya’s pulse was pounding, his skin flushed, his slipped back down from being bunched up under his arms.

Keigo shoved the door open with his shoulder, pulling Touya inside. The second it clicked shut, Touya shoved him back onto the bed, climbing after him with a grin sharp enough to make Keigo’s eyes widen.

“Oh, you’re in charge now?” Keigo teased, breathless.

Touya smirked, straddling him, leaning down until their noses brushed. “Always was.”

Keigo laughed, low and rough, before pulling him down into another kiss.
The bed creaked under them, their bodies tangling, heat sparking with every touch. Keigo’s hands slid up his back, pulling him closer, and Touya let himself sink into it, into the warmth, into the fire that didn’t hurt, into the stupid, reckless joy of it.

Keigo kissed like he wanted to map every inch of him, like he’d never get enough. Touya kissed back like he was daring him to try.

The world outside didn’t matter. The knocks, the voices, the headlines—none of it reached them here. Here, it was just them.

Touya’s laugh, rare and rough, slipped out against Keigo’s mouth when their teeth knocked again. Keigo grinned into the kiss, feathers twitching, and whispered, “Best date ever.”

Touya rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him. “Idiot.”

“Shut up,” Keigo laughed, pulling him down again, lifting slightly to meet him halfway.

Touya didn’t argue. He kissed him instead, deep and unrelenting, until the fire in his chest burned so bright it felt like it could light up the whole damn city.

Touya pushed Keigo down against the mattress again, the springs creaking under the sudden weight. His chest heaved, his skin burning in the low light of the room, every nerve alive with the lingering rush of kisses that had already gone too far to stop. Keigo sprawled beneath him with that damn grin, golden hair fanned across Touya’s pillow like it belonged there, wings spread wide and rustling softly against the sheets.

“Didn’t think you’d get so bold,” Keigo teased, voice rough and low, breath coming fast.

Touya smirked, leaning closer, his knees braced against the mattress on either side of Keigo’s hips. “You’ve been asking for it.”

Keigo’s laugh was a short, breathless thing, cut off when Touya dragged him into another kiss. It was demanding, hot, teeth clashing and tongues tangling until both of them were gasping. Touya’s hand slid up Keigo’s hoodie, shoving it higher, bunching the fabric under his arms until his bare chest was exposed. His scars and freckles and sharp collarbones caught in the dim light, every part of him laid out, and Touya didn’t waste a second running his hands over it.

Keigo shivered under the touch, groaning into Touya’s mouth. His hands gripped at Touya’s waist, nails digging lightly as if to anchor himself. “Fuck, Touya,” he breathed, voice rasping, eyes half-lidded and blown wide with want.

Touya pulled back just enough to smirk down at him, lips swollen and red. “You’re easy.”

Keigo laughed, breathless, his grin flashing. “Only for you.”

Touya’s chest clenched, the words hitting somewhere he didn’t want to think about, so he silenced them by dragging his mouth down Keigo’s throat. He bit, licked, kissed across the smooth line of skin, not caring how many marks he left. Keigo tilted his head back, groaning, his wings twitching with every scrape of teeth.

When Touya’s mouth found his nipple, Keigo gasped, his whole body jolting. “Shit- ”

Touya smirked against his skin, flicking his tongue before biting lightly just to hear him curse again. Keigo’s hand fisted in his hair, tugging, pulling him closer instead of away. His back arched, chest pressing up into Touya’s mouth, and the sound that tore out of him made Touya’s blood run hotter.

“You like that?” Touya muttered against his chest, voice low and rough.

Keigo’s laugh was shaky, broken by another moan when Touya’s teeth grazed him again. “Fuck- yeah, I do. Don’t you dare stop.”

Touya grinned, sharp and smug, before moving to the other side, giving the same treatment, sucking until Keigo was writhing beneath him, breathless and desperate. His wings flared, feathers scattering across the bed, every movement betraying just how much he was unraveling.

Touya dragged his mouth back up, kissing him hard, swallowing every sound he made. Keigo kissed back like he was starving, like Touya was the only thing in the world that mattered. His hands slid lower, tugging at Touya’s shirt, desperate to strip him down.

Touya sat back just long enough to yank it over his head, tossing it aside carelessly. Keigo’s eyes raked over him instantly, golden and molten, drinking in every scar, every mark, every piece of him with a hunger that made Touya’s skin burn.

“Hot,” Keigo whispered, too earnest, too raw.

Touya growled low in his throat and leaned down, kissing him rough enough to shut him up. Keigo laughed against his mouth, breathless, and his hands roamed over Touya’s bare skin like he couldn’t get enough.

Their hips ground together, the friction making Touya groan, his head dropping to Keigo’s shoulder. Keigo gasped, his grip tightening, wings trembling against the sheets.

“Fuck, Touya- ”

Touya kissed down his throat again, biting hard enough to leave a bruise, then shoved Keigo’s top the rest of the way off. Keigo wriggled free, tossing it aside, both of them bare from the waist up now, pressed together skin to skin. The heat between them was overwhelming, every brush of their bodies sparking fire.

Touya’s hands slid down, tugging at Keigo’s waistband. Keigo smirked, breath ragged, and lifted his hips in invitation. Touya grinned in satisfaction, dragging his pants down slowly, teasingly, until Keigo cursed at him.

“Don’t- fuck- don’t tease me right now,” Keigo gasped, kicking the fabric off.

Touya smirked, leaning down to murmur against his lips, “You’re desperate.”

“So are you,” Keigo shot back without hesitation, kissing him hard again.

The words burned through Touya, hot and dangerous, so he kissed him rougher, biting at his lip until Keigo groaned. His hand slid down, finally wrapping around his cock, and Keigo’s whole body jolted, a broken sound tearing out of his throat.

“Shit. Touya- ”

Touya smirked, watching the way his head fell back, throat exposed, chest heaving. “Loud,” he muttered, stroking slow just to hear him whine.

Keigo’s hand shot down, gripping his wrist, trying to urge him faster. His eyes were wild, his grin shaky but wicked. “You’re evil.”

Touya leaned down, kissing him again, stroking harder now, faster, until Keigo was gasping against his mouth, every sound swallowed between their lips.
Keigo’s wings twitched violently, feathers falling around them like sparks, his back arching against the bed. Touya drank it in, every groan, every twitch, every shiver. It was intoxicating.

Keigo’s hand fumbled at Touya’s waistband, tugging, desperate. Touya growled, pulling back just enough to strip the rest of his clothes off, tossing them aside carelessly. Keigo’s eyes raked over him instantly, dark with hunger, his grin widening.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he rasped, pulling him back down.

Touya kissed him again, rough and unrelenting, their bare bodies pressing together fully now. The heat was blinding, overwhelming, too much and not enough all at once.

Keigo rolled them suddenly, flipping Touya onto his back. Touya gasped, startled, but Keigo grinned down at him, wings spread wide, golden hair falling into his face.

“My turn,” Keigo said, voice rough, breathless, but steady with intent.

Touya smirked up at him, defiant even now. “Think you can handle it?”

Keigo laughed low, leaning down until their noses brushed, his hand moving down until it wrapped around Touya’s cock. “I can handle anything with you.”

“Fuck, Kei,” Touya groaned, eyes squeezing shut, his hips twitching against the mattress.

Keigo chuckled low, lips pressing to his ear as his hand moved slow. “Look at you. You hated me a month ago.”

“I know,” Touya rasped, even as his back arched into the touch, even as his hand clawed at Keigo’ dragging him closer.

“And now,” Keigo bit his earlobe, a sharp sting that made Touya groan, “you want me too much to hate me.”

Touya didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His breath was ragged, his body burning, his mind clouded. The only thing he could focus on was Keigo’s hand, Keigo’s mouth, Keigo everywhere. Keigo was relentless, his hand stroking faster now, grip firm, teasing just enough to make Touya’s thighs tremble. His lips moved down Touya’s neck, sucking, biting, leaving marks that burned against already sensitive skin.

Touya gritted his teeth, groaning low in his throat, but he didn’t push him away. He clung tighter instead, nails digging into Keigo’s back, dragging down hard enough to leave faint welts. Keigo hissed, shuddering, and only stroked him harder.

“Kei- fuck.” Touya gasped, head tipping back against the pillow, his throat bared. His hips bucked against Keigo’s hand, chasing the fire building far too fast again.

Keigo’s grin brushed over his chest, smug and filthy. “That’s it. Don’t hold back. Want to hear you.”

Touya let out a broken sound, halfway between a curse and a moan, his body thrumming, fire coursing through every vein. His legs shifted restlessly, spreading wider, giving Keigo more space, not that he’d admit it out loud. Keigo noticed anyway, of course he did.

His grin widened, his golden eyes gleaming wickedly as he glanced up at him. “Good boy.”

Touya’s stomach clenched hard, a bolt of heat hitting him square in the chest. His breath caught, his hips jerking, and Keigo’s chuckle followed him down into the mattress as he teased him mercilessly, fingers steady, strokes precise.

The bed creaked again, groaning under their movements, under the push and pull of Touya’s body writhing beneath Keigo’s. Sweat dampened his skin, his pale scars glistening under the dim light, his chest heaving with every ragged breath.

Keigo leaned down, his teeth grazing skin until he bit down over touya’s ribs, sucking hard enough to make Touya arch with a sharp gasp. His other hand never stopped moving, stroking his dick with purpose, every pass dragging him closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Kei, stop teasing. ” Touya growled, voice breaking into a moan as Keigo bit down lightly again before soothing it with his tongue.

“Not teasing,” Keigo said against his chest, his voice dark and low. “Making you fall apart for me.”

Touya’s hips bucked again, involuntary, desperate, chasing every ounce of friction. His body felt too tight, his nerves too raw, like he was burning alive under Keigo’s touch.

Keigo shifted lower, his mouth trailing kisses down Touya’s torso, following the scars, licking over each line like he was worshipping them. Touya’s chest heaved, his breath sharp, hands fisting in the sheets as Keigo moved further down.

The moment Keigo’s lips brushed the head of his cock, Touya’s entire body jolted. His thighs trembled, his hands flew to Keigo’s hair, clutching tight as heat surged sharp and hot through his core.

“Shit.” His voice cracked, raw and desperate.

Keigo took him fully into his mouth and hummed around him, smug and wicked, the vibration shooting up Touya’s spine. His hands gripped Touya’s hips, holding him down, forcing him to be still, to feel every deliberate flick of tongue, every swirl, every drag of heat.

Touya’s body writhed, his hips twitching despite Keigo’s grip, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The fire coiled fast, building and building until his entire body felt like it might split apart from the pressure.

His fingers dug into Keigo’s hair, pulling hard enough to sting, but Keigo only groaned in response, sending another shock through him. Touya’s back arched, his head falling back, a broken sound tearing from his throat.

“Shit—fuck—don’t—don’t stop,” Touya gasped, his voice rough, wrecked.
Keigo didn’t stop. He doubled down, bobbing his head, faster, deeper, his hands tightening on Touya’s hips as he worked him with merciless precision.

Touya was lost, his body shaking, every nerve lit, his chest heaving as the heat finally tipped and he came.

It crashed through him like an explosion, sharp and blinding, ripping a raw, guttural groan from his throat. His body arched off the bed, every muscle trembling, every nerve screaming as Keigo held him down, riding out the wave until Touya was gasping, shaking, heaving against the sheets.

He spilled down Keigo’s throat, feeling the blonde convulsing around him as he swallowed it all.

Keigo finally pulled off him, a string of saliva and cum connecting his lips to touya’s cock. He licking his lips, golden eyes burning as he looked up at Touya sprawled out, ruined, trembling.

“So fucking hot,” he murmured, voice rough with hunger.

Touya groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes, heat still rolling through him. “You’re fucking- insane.”

Keigo crawled back up his body, kissing him hard and filthy, making Touya taste himself on Keigo’s tongue.

“And you love it,” he whispered against his mouth, before kissing him again, deeper, hungrier, his hips grinding down with clear intent.

Touya could feel Keigo’s hard cock rubbing against his thigh. He groaned into his mouth, his body still trembling, still sensitive, but already sparking with fresh fire at the press of Keigo hard against him. He grabbed him, yanking him closer, because if Keigo wanted more, then Touya sure as hell wasn’t going to say no.

Keigo’s weight settled over him, mouth still on his, hands roaming, wings twitching wide like they couldn’t contain the restless energy coiled in him. Touya’s chest rose and fell in sharp breaths, body still shivering from the wrecking Keigo had already given him, but the hard, demanding pressure against his thigh set his blood boiling all over again.

Keigo kissed him like he wanted to own him, hot and filthy, his tongue sweeping deep, his teeth nipping until Touya’s lips were swollen. He ground his hips down with deliberate intent, and Touya groaned into the kiss, his own dick twitching in response.

When Keigo finally pulled back, his golden eyes burned into him, sharp and unyielding. “You ready for me?”

Touya’s breath hitched. His throat worked. But his body answered for him, his thighs shifted open, his hands gripping Keigo’s hips, dragging him closer.

Keigo grinned, wolfish, cocky. “So that’s a yes?”

“Shut up,” Touya rasped, heat rushing down his spine, his chest tightening with both want and anticipation.

Keigo kissed him again, slower, teasing this time, before sliding down his body. His lips trailed lower, leaving marks with each suck and bite, and Touya writhed, gripping the sheets, his stomach tightening in restless want.

Keigo reached into the drawer beside the bed without even looking, his hand confident as if he knew exactly where to go. He pulled out lube, the cap snapping open with a click that made Touya’s pulse spike.

Touya had no idea how Keigo even knew he kept lube in that drawer.

“Spread,” Keigo ordered, his voice low, rough with hunger.

Touya glared, even as his legs obeyed. His thighs fell open, the cool air hitting him raw and vulnerable. Heat flushed up his neck.

Keigo smirked down at him. “Good boy.”

The words hit like fire, ripping a groan out of Touya’s throat before he could stop it. He hated how his body reacted, but Keigo saw everything, saw the way his chest heaved, the way his hips twitched, the way his skin flushed redder.

Keigo leaned in close, brushing their mouths together. “Knew it,” he whispered, smug. “You like being told you’re good. You got a praise kink, Tou?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Touya snarled, his voice cracking on the last word as Keigo’s slicked fingers teased at his rim, pressing lightly but not entering. His hips jerked against the touch, traitorous.

Keigo grinned wider. “Sensitive, aren’t you? Gonna fall apart on just my fingers?”

Touya grit his teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of answering. But when Keigo finally pushed one finger in, slow and steady, a broken groan ripped out of his throat anyway.

Keigo’s eyes gleamed. “That’s it. Take it.”

The burn was sharp, a stretch that made Touya’s breath catch, but underneath it was heat, deep and coiling. His hands fisted in the sheets, his thighs trembling as Keigo worked him open.

Keigo pressed kisses along his chest, soft in contrast to the filthy words spilling from his mouth. “Look at you, already clenching around me. Desperate for it, huh?”

Touya groaned, nails digging into the mattress, his body betraying him as it relaxed, pulling Keigo’s finger in deeper. The stretch eased into something hot, something that made his chest tighten, his cock twitch.

Keigo slid the second finger in without warning. Touya gasped, back arching, thighs quivering at the sudden burn.
“Shit—” he hissed, breath ragged.

Keigo’s grin was sharp. “Tight as hell. Have you even bottomed before?”

Touya intentionally ignored the question. He hadn’t actually bottomed before, but like hell was he going to admit it. Instead, Touya glared at him, but it broke off as his eyes rolled back when Keigo curled his fingers just right, pressing against that spot inside that made his vision white out. His hips jerked, a helpless moan tearing out of him.

Keigo’s laugh was low, wicked. “Found it.”

He didn’t let up. His fingers worked steady and relentless, stretching him, scissoring, pressing deep, dragging that spot again and again until Touya was gasping, his body shaking, fire building so fast it made his head spin.

“Fucking hell, Kei,” Touya groaned, his voice raw, his legs spreading wider without thought. His body opened up, needy, desperate, aching for more.

Keigo pulled back just enough to look down at him, his eyes gleaming, his mouth curved into a smug smirk. “Beg.”

Touya snarled, baring his teeth. “Not a chance.”

Keigo shoved a third finger in. The stretch was brutal, burning, forcing Touya’s hips off the mattress with a sharp cry. His nails raked down Keigo’s arm, half pain, half desperate need.

“Fuck,” Touya gasped, chest heaving, his body trembling around Keigo’s fingers.

Keigo leaned close, his lips brushing Touya’s ear. “Beg, or I’ll keep you like this all night. Fingers only. Nothing else.”

Touya’s chest hitched, fire roaring in his veins, humiliation and want tangling tight. His throat worked, his pride fighting, but the burn inside him, the ache for more, the way Keigo’s cock pressed against his thigh, thick and heavy.

“Please,” Touya rasped, the word raw, ripped out of him. “Just fuck me already.”

Keigo groaned low, his teeth sinking into Touya’s shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. “Good boy,” he growled, pulling his fingers out slow, slick and glistening with lube.

Touya shuddered, his body twitching at the sudden emptiness, his hips chasing after the loss.

Keigo slicked himself quickly, his hand stroking down his cock, spreading the lube. His golden eyes locked on Touya’s, hunger sharp and unrelenting.

“You’re mine tonight,” he said, voice low and rough. “Say it.”

Touya’s heart hammered in his chest, his pride clawing at him, but the heat pooling between his legs drowned it out. His body ached, open and ready, trembling with want.

“I’m yours,” he spat, his voice rough but steady.

Keigo’s grin was wild, sharp, triumphant. He lined himself up, pressing the head of his dick against Touya’s rim, teasing, pushing just enough to make Touya’s body twitch.

Then he pushed in.

Touya’s mouth fell open, a raw sound tearing out of his throat as the stretch burned, sharper and fuller than the fingers, every inch pushing into him, splitting him open, claiming him.

“Fuckkkk,” he moaned, clutching at Keigo’s shoulders, nails digging deep. His thighs shook, his body trembling under the pressure.

Keigo moaned, his head dropping to Touya’s chest, his breath ragged. “Tight- shit, Touya- you feel so fucking good.”

The burn eased slowly, giving way to heat, to fullness that made Touya’s stomach clench, his chest heave. His body adjusted, trembling, pulling Keigo in deeper until he was buried to the hilt.

They both gasped, their breaths tangled, sweat slick between them.

Keigo lifted his head, golden eyes burning down into Touya’s. “Say you’re mine again.”

Touya groaned, his chest tight, his pride breaking under the weight of heat and want. “I’m yours.”

Keigo’s groan was guttural, primal. He pulled out halfway and slammed back in, the bedframe rattling with the force. Touya cried out, his back arching, his legs wrapping instinctively around Keigo’s waist to drag him deeper.

“Good boy,” Keigo growled, his pace brutal from the start, hips snapping sharp, relentless.

Touya was wrecked, his body jerking with every thrust, his voice breaking into groans and curses he couldn’t hold back. The fire roared through him, every nerve alive, every inch consumed by Keigo.

Keigo fucked him like he owned him, like he’d been waiting for this, every thrust hitting deep, precise, driving Touya higher, harder, until his mind was nothing but fire and want.

Touya’s hands clutched at him, nails dragging, face flushed, voice raw. “Kei- fuck- don’t stop- ”

Keigo’s laugh was rough, low. “Wasn’t planning to.”

He slammed in harder, faster, the sound of skin on skin echoing, the bed creaking, the room filled with the symphony of moans, gasps, curses, and praise.

Touya’s body clenched tight around him, every thrust pushing him closer, the pressure coiling, unbearable, blinding. His hands shot up to clutch at Keigo’s hair.

“Mine,” Keigo moaned, biting his throat, sucking hard enough to leave bruises. “You’re mine.”

Touya’s voice broke on a groan, his body trembling, his heart hammering. “Yours- fuck- I’m yours- ”

The pleasure tore through him, consuming, raw and relentless, as his body gave in, clenching around Keigo as he came with a cry.

Keigo groaned loud, slamming in deep, spilling into him as his wings spread wide, trembling, his body shuddering with the force of it.

They collapsed together, sweaty, trembling, tangled, their breaths ragged, their bodies still pulsing with aftershocks.

Keigo kissed him slow, deep, filthy and soft all at once, whispering against his lips, “Good boy.”

Touya groaned, too wrecked to answer, but the fire in his chest burned steady, warm, undeniable.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been wrung out like this, burned from the inside without a single flame involved.

Keigo didn’t move right away. He collapsed on top of him, chest pressed to Touya’s, wings twitching with the aftershocks of release. His breath was hot and ragged against Touya’s neck, lips brushing lazily over the slick skin there.

Touya groaned, his hands still fisted in Keigo’s hair, tugging lightly. “You’re heavy.”

Keigo chuckled, the sound weak but warm. “Bet you like it.”

Touya rolled his eyes, though his lips twitched in a smile. He didn’t shove him off, instead, his fingers loosened, threading idly through sweat-damp blond hair.

Keigo hummed low, pleased, like a cat curling into warmth. “See? Can’t keep your hands off of me.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Mm, you’ve said a few things like that a lot tonight.” Keigo lifted his head just enough to grin down at him, eyes still half-lidded and hazy with satisfaction. “Not a single time you’ve pushed me away, though.”

Touya snorted, his chest rising and falling under him. “Maybe I’m just lazy.”

Keigo leaned down, kissing him slow and lingering, swallowing the lie before Touya could pull back. His tongue brushed softly, his lips patient this time, no urgency, no heat, just steady, grounding warmth.

Touya sighed against his mouth, his fingers curling tighter in Keigo’s hair. The kiss stretched long, unhurried, until Keigo finally pulled back, resting his forehead against Touya’s.

“You’re perfect,” Keigo whispered, barely more than breath.

Touya scoffed, but his chest tightened in ways he couldn’t fight. He turned his head slightly, breaking the contact, but Keigo caught his jaw, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“I mean it,” Keigo said, softer now, no teasing, no edge. Just truth. “You’re fucking perfect.”

Touya swallowed, his throat dry. He wanted to argue, wanted to tell him he was full of shit, but the words stuck. Instead, he muttered, “You’re disgusting.”

Keigo grinned, golden eyes glinting. “Yeah. Disgustingly in love with you.”

Touya groaned, tilting his head back against the sheets. “You’re so fucking dramatic.”

Keigo laughed, the sound warm, easing the heavy air. He pressed another kiss to Touya’s jaw, then down his throat, slow and gentle.

“C’mon,” Keigo murmured, pulling back just enough to glance toward the mess between them. “Let’s clean you up before you start bitching at me about the sheets.”

Touya smirked faintly. “You’re the one who’s gonna wash ‘em.”

“Gladly,” Keigo said with a grin, rolling off the bed reluctantly. His wings stretched wide, shaking out, feathers brushing the air before folding close again. His body gleamed with sweat, golden skin marked with scratches and red lines where Touya’s nails had dragged.

Touya’s eyes lingered on them, heat flickering low in his stomach again despite the exhaustion. Keigo caught the look and smirked. “Like what you see?”

“Cocky bastard,” Touya muttered, forcing his gaze away.

Keigo chuckled, bending to grab a discarded shirt from the floor. He wiped himself down quickly before tossing the shirt aside again, then grabbed tissues from the drawer, handling everything with a casualness that made Touya’s chest tighten.

He climbed back onto the bed, settling between Touya’s thighs. Touya tensed out of instinct, but Keigo kissed his thigh gently before starting to clean him up, slow, careful.

Touya groaned, covering his face with his arm. “This is humiliating.”

Keigo grinned, his voice warm. “Nah. This is me taking care of my boyfriend.”

Touya’s stomach clenched at the word. His arm slipped just enough for him to glare down at Keigo. “You’re smug as hell when you say that.”

“Damn right,” Keigo said easily, tossing the tissues aside once he was done. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Touya’s hip. “Means I won.”

Touya arched a brow. “Won what?”

Keigo climbed up his body again, settling over him, kissing the corner of his mouth. “You.”

Touya groaned, pushing at his chest lightly, though his lips curved despite himself. “Cheesy bastard.”

Keigo grinned, kissing him again. “You like me for it.”

They lay tangled like that for a while, bodies cooling, breaths steadying. Keigo’s head rested on Touya’s chest, his wings draped protectively around them both, feathers soft against Touya’s scarred skin. Touya’s fingers threaded lazily through his hair, tugging now and then just to hear him hum.

For the first time in forever, Touya felt steady.

The silence stretched, comfortable, until Keigo’s voice broke it, low and amused. “So, how was your first time bottoming?”

Touya froze, his hand stilling in Keigo’s hair. He’d really hoped Keigo hadn’t picked up on that. Keigo hadn’t mentioned it, Touya had thought he’d gotten away it.

Keigo lifted his head, golden eyes glinting with mischief. “What, thought I wouldn’t notice? You’re good at pretending, babe, but not that good.”

Touya’s jaw clenched and his face flushed. “Shut the fuck up.”

Keigo’s grin softened, though the tease didn’t leave his voice. “You were amazing. Better than I dreamed.”

Touya’s gaze slid to him. “You dream about me like that?”

“All the time.” Keigo kissed him again, slow and deep. “And it was better in reality.”

Touya’s chest tightened. He hated how much the words mattered, hated how much he wanted to hear them again.

Keigo smirked, brushing a feather over his arm. “Bet you’ll want it again soon.”

Touya rolled his eyes, muttering, “You’re exhausting. Also next time, you wont be topping. You’ll be being fucked into the mattress.”

“Mhm. Hot.” Keigo kissed him one more time, then tucked his face into Touya’s neck, his breath warm against his skin. “So worth it, though.”

Touya’s hand found his hair again, tugging lightly, keeping him close. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

The fire in his chest was steady now, low and warm, not burning him alive for once. That was enough for Touya.

Chapter Text

When Touya woke up, the first thing he noticed was the weight against his side. It was heavy, but also a warm weight. His eyes cracked open to the pale light filtering through the blinds, painting lines across the mess of blankets tangled around him. For a moment he almost forgot that there was someone in his bed, someone who wasn’t just there for one night and gone the next. Touya felt his chest tighten as his gaze drifted down.

Keigo was curled into him, golden hair mussed, cheek pressed into Touya’s shoulder, one wing stretched lazily over the edge of the bed while the other was tucked against his back. His lips were parted slightly in sleep, breath slow and even. The sight should’ve annoyed him and made him shove the idiot off, demand space, grumble about the feathers itching his skin. But it didn’t. Instead, it made something twist in his chest, hot and confusing.

Touya let out a low breath and tilted his head back against the pillow. He hated how natural it felt. How his body hadn’t stiffened the second he was awake, how he hadn’t woken from habit to push someone away. He hated that his hand still rested lightly on Keigo’s back, fingers tangled in the soft feathers at the base of his wing.

He flexed his hand, testing. Keigo didn’t stir.

Touya’s lips twitched, just barely. The idiot slept like a rock. For someone who was supposed to be the fastest man alive, Hawks sure as hell was useless unconscious.

The thought made him huff out a laugh, but he didn’t move. His throat felt dry, and he swallowed, his mind wandering where he didn’t want it to. The way Keigo had touched him last night, the patience in it, the way he’d looked at him like he wasn’t just some fucked-up mess of fire and scars. Touya’s body betrayed him as his heart thundered at the memory, and he dragged his hands up to press the heels of his hands into his eyes.

He didn’t want to let himself get soft.

But Keigo shifted then, letting out a soft sound that was part sigh and part hum, and Touya froze. The blond burrowed closer, arm sliding tighter around Touya, wings shifting before settling again. Touya lifted his hands from his eyes, watching the way Keigo’s expression softened in sleep. It was unfair how someone like him, with sharp edges, burned skin, a lifetime of being too much and not enough, ended up here, with this ridiculous, infuriating, golden idiot clinging to him like he was worth holding onto?

“Stupid bird,” Touya muttered under his breath, voice hoarse from disuse.

He thought he said it quiet enough to slip past unnoticed. But Keigo stirred again, lashes fluttering, and Touya’s stomach dropped. Keigo’s eyes cracked open, hazy gold focusing on him.

“…morning,” Keigo mumbled, voice still thick with sleep, a lazy grin tugging at his lips.

Touya rolled his eyes and turned his face away. “Go back to sleep.”

Keigo chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against Touya’s chest. “You sound like you didn’t sleep at all.”

“I did,” Touya said automatically, though his voice lacked bite.

“Mhm. Sure.” Keigo’s hand rubbed absent circles against Touya’s side, absentminded but grounding. “You were watching me, weren’t you?”

Touya stiffened, glaring down at him. “You wish.”

Keigo’s grin widened, smug and teasing despite the sleepiness weighing on his features. “I don’t have to wish. You’re too obvious, hot stuff.”

Touya’s face heated, a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue, but the words caught, because Keigo wasn’t wrong. He hated how transparent he was with him. How the bird could read him so easily, pick apart every defense like it was nothing.

“Shut up,” Touya muttered finally, shoving lightly at Keigo’s shoulder. It was half-hearted, though, and Keigo didn’t budge, just nuzzled closer like the overgrown pigeon he was.

“Make me.”

Touya groaned, turning further away from him. “You’re insufferable.”

“You still like me though,” Keigo shot back without missing a beat.

Touya opened his mouth to argue, but the words died when Keigo tilted his head up slightly, lips brushing his collarbone. It wasn’t even a kiss, just a light graze that was soft and warm and maddening. Touya’s pulse jumped, his breath catching despite himself.

“Don’t,” he warned, though his voice lacked conviction.

Keigo’s smile against his skin was infuriating. “Don’t what?”

Touya grit his teeth. “Don’t start this early.”

“‘This’ being…?” Keigo prompted, deliberately playing dumb, his lips dragging higher toward Touya’s neck.

Touya’s patience frayed and his hand shot out, gripping Keigo’s hair to still him. The blond smiled slightly but didn’t protest, just looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, smugness giving way to something softer.

Touya hated that look more than anything. It was dangerous. It made him want to let go.

“Seriously,” Touya muttered, though his grip loosened, fingers sliding gently through Keigo’s messy hair almost unconsciously. “You’re gonna regret waking me up like this.”

Keigo arched a brow, leaning into the touch like he wasn’t being threatened. “Promise?”

Touya glared, but the corner of his mouth twitched despite himself. He let out a sharp exhale and shoved Keigo’s head back down, ignoring the quiet laugh muffled into his chest.

Touya stared at the ceiling, trying not to think too much, but his mind was a traitor. He thought about how Keigo’s body fit so easily against his. How the idiot hadn’t even hesitated last night, hadn’t made him feel like a fool when Touya had let him take control. How patient he’d been, how careful. Touya had expected mocking, maybe smug teasing. Instead, he’d gotten something worse. It was worse because it was real, and Touya wasn’t used to real.

And now, lying here, he didn’t know what to do with it.

Keigo’s voice broke through his thoughts, softer now. “You’re overthinking again, aren’t you?”

Touya stiffened. “I’m not.”

“You are.” Keigo’s hand slid up, resting flat against his chest, right over his heart. “I can tell when you are.”

Touya’s throat went dry, and he wanted to swat the hand away, to snap something cutting, but he didn’t. He couldn’t, simply because Keigo’s palm was warm, steady, grounding in a way that dug under his skin.

“Shut up,” he muttered, his voice weaker this time.

Keigo hummed, but didn’t push further. He just closed his eyes again, smile small but content.

Touya stared at him for a long moment. He hated how easily Keigo could calm him down, hated how natural it felt to let him. He hated it because it meant he wanted it to last, and that was terrifying.

Touya shifted slightly, adjusting the blanket higher over them. His hand, traitorous as ever, stayed tangled in Keigo’s hair, stroking absently. Keigo let out a soft, pleased sigh, wings twitching before settling heavier around them, cocooning them both in warmth.

Touya swallowed hard. He didn’t say anything, but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the need to.

By the time the light shifted again, painting the room in a brighter glow, Touya was still awake. Keigo had drifted off completely, body lax and trusting against him. Touya hadn’t moved, afraid to ruin it. He told himself it was because he didn’t want to wake the bird. That it was easier to stay put than deal with his whining if he stirred. But deep down, he knew better.

Touya let out a long breath, staring at the messy strands of gold splayed across his chest. His hand tightened in them briefly, then relaxed.

He drifted between pretending to be asleep and staring at the ceiling, but the silence never stayed real silence for long and Keigo made sure of that. He’d woken up at some point and every so often the blond let out a content little hum, or shifted, or dragged his fingers lazily against Touya’s chest like he was checking to see if Touya had vanished.

“Stop moving,” Touya muttered eventually, his voice rough.

“I’m not moving,” Keigo replied instantly, which was a lie, considering his hand had just slid lower and then back up again. “I’m just appreciating you.”

Touya turned his head and shot him a flat look. Keigo’s eyes were half-lidded, hair sticking up in every direction, but that stupid grin was there like always.

“You’re unbearable in the morning.”

“You say that like you don’t love it.” Keigo tilted his chin, smug, wings giving the faintest twitch.

Touya snorted, unimpressed. “What I love is quiet. Try it sometime.”

Keigo gasped dramatically, though it was muffled against Touya’s shoulder. “You wound me, hot stuff. My words are a gift, y’know. Most people would kill to wake up to this kind of charm.”

“Then go wake someone else up instead.”

“Too late. I’m already committed.” Keigo tightened his arm around Touya’s waist as if to prove the point, pressing closer, radiating that ridiculous warmth he always carried. “You’re stuck with me.”

Touya’s jaw clenched, not out of anger but to keep the laugh that threatened to slip past his teeth from escaping. He shoved at Keigo’s head lightly. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet- ” Keigo tipped his face up, grin widening, “-you haven’t kicked me out of bed.”

Touya rolled his eyes and looked away, cheeks warming despite himself. “That’s only because you’d whine about it.”

“True,” Keigo admitted easily, “but also because you like having me here.”

Touya groaned. “You just can’t shut up, can you?”

“Not when I’ve got an audience. Even if it’s just an audience of one. You should feel special because i’m talking to you like this.”

“You talk like this to everyone.”

Keigo smirked, dragging his nails lightly across Touya’s stomach, watching for the twitch it earned. “Not like this, i don’t.”

Touya swatted at his hand, muttering under his breath. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to set you on fire.”

“Mmh. You wouldn’t. You like my feathers too much.”

Touya blinked at him, then deliberately tugged one from the wing draped over them, twirling it between his fingers. “These? Annoying. They get everywhere.”

Keigo winced at the pull, but his smirk didn’t falter. “You keep stealing them. That’s a sign of affection.”

“It’s a sign you shed like a damn dog.” Touya dropped the feather on his face.

Keigo caught it between two fingers and twirled it back. “Don’t act like you mind, Tou. You still steal them.”

Touya’s ears burned. “Shut up.”

Keigo just laughed, warm and low, and the sound buzzed all the way through Touya’s chest where Keigo was pressed against him.

For a while, they stayed like that, with Keigo drawing lazy shapes on Touya’s skin, and Touya pretending he didn’t care, both of them too comfortable to really move. The sunlight creeping through the blinds grew sharper, cutting lines across the bed.

Eventually Touya sighed, long and annoyed, and shifted beneath the blankets.

Keigo peeked up instantly, alert despite the drowsiness clinging to him. “Where you going?”

“Shower,” Touya grunted, swinging his legs off the side.

Keigo made a noise of protest and latched onto his arm. “Nooo. Stay here. Five more minutes.”

“You’ll keep saying that every five minutes if i agree to the first five minutes.”

“Of course i’ll keep saying it. Bed’s nice. You’re nice. Don’t ruin it.”

Touya gave him a flat look over his shoulder. “You stink like sex and sweat.”

“So do you,” Keigo countered easily, tugging at him with surprising strength. “That’s why we match.”

Touya snorted, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming, yes.”

Touya stood anyway, stretching, the blanket slipping down to reveal bare skin crisscrossed with scars. Keigo’s eyes immediately dropped lower, and Touya caught the glance. His scowl deepened. “Eyes up, birdbrain.”

“Just appreciating art,” Keigo said with a lazy grin, still sprawled on the mattress. “You can’t blame me.”

“I can, and I do.” Touya turned toward the bathroom.

Before he could take a step, Keigo lunged, arms looping around his waist from behind and dragging him back down onto the bed with a yelp. Touya landed half on top of him, scowling as Keigo laughed into his neck.

“Gotcha,” Keigo said smugly, tightening his grip. “Bed wins. You lose.”

Touya shoved at him, struggling to sit up. “You’re acting so immature.”

“I have my priorities. Warm bed, hot boyfriend, cuddles, what’s not to like?”

“Hot boyfriend?” Touya echoed dryly, glaring down at him.

“Mmhm.” Keigo nodded, utterly unbothered. “That’d be you. Congratulations.”

Touya rolled his eyes but he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged his lips upwards. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you like it,” Keigo repeated, sing-song, clearly enjoying himself.

Touya groaned and shoved harder, finally breaking free. He stood again, ignoring Keigo’s pout. “I’m taking a shower. You can stay here and sleep for all I care.”

“Rude.”

Touya ignored him, stalking toward the bathroom. Behind him, he heard the creak of the mattress as Keigo scrambled up.

“Wait, wait, wait-” Keigo darted after him, wings brushing the doorway as he caught up. “Shower without me? That’s cruel and unfair punishment.”

Touya shot him a glare over his shoulder. “You just said you wanted to stay in bed.”

“Changed my mind.” Keigo grinned shamelessly. “I can adjust. Bed cuddles, shower cuddles, it’s all good.”

Touya’s sighed in defeat, though the corner of his mouth twitched despite himself. “You’re exhausting.”

“You keep saying that like it’s news.”

Touya rolled his eyes and pushed the bathroom door open. Keigo tried to follow, but Touya planted a hand on his chest to block him. “Your wings are gonna take up the whole damn room.”

Keigo raised a brow, smug. “Lucky for you, I’ve got a solution.”

Before Touya could ask, Keigo stretched his wings out in the hallway. A soft rustling sound filled the room as his feathers lifted, drifting from his wings slowly at first, then shooting away, and darting back towards Touya’s room. They vanished through the gap under the door like sparks on the wind, until the massive wings drooping behind him had thinned, the space they took up shrinking drastically.

Touya blinked. “The hell did you just do?”

“Sent ’em out,” Keigo said casually, flexing the few feathers left at the base of his wings. “Storage, basically. Easier this way. No overcrowding in the shower, no smacking you in the face with feathers, unless you want that.”

Touya stared at him, unimpressed. “You’re telling me you could’ve controlled all of them to stay with you the whole time, and instead you’ve been intentionally shedding feathers all over my apartment?”

Keigo grinned, sheepish. “Consider it… marking territory?”

Touya groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re insufferable.”

“Again, not news.”

Touya shoved him ahead lightly toward the bathroom. “Just get in before I change my mind.”

Keigo stumbled in with a laugh, wings lighter behind him now, golden eyes glinting as he looked back at Touya. “See? You don’t hate having me around.”

Touya stepped into the bathroom after him, going straight to the shower, the air already cool against his skin, steam beginning to curl from the shower as he twisted the handle. The hiss of water filled the small space, bouncing off tile, a steady backdrop that somehow made the room feel smaller with the two of them in it. Keigo leaned lazily against the sink, the base of his wings twitching every so often. His golden eyes followed Touya with that easy, teasing grin, and it made Touya’s skin prickle.

He hated being watched like that, hated it because it didn’t feel like mockery. It felt like being seen.

“You staring at the water like it’s a puzzle,” Keigo said, pushing off the sink and strolling up behind him. His voice was still raspy with sleep, but softer now, lower, curling right against the shell of Touya’s ear. “Hot enough?”

Touya reached a hand into the spray, testing it, scowling when Keigo’s breath ghosted warm across his neck. “Yeah. Get in before you start complaining again.”

Keigo chuckled, brushing past him without hesitation, stepping under the water. He tilted his head back, letting it soak through the mess of blond hair, droplets running down the lines of his throat, over the lean cut of his shoulders. Touya’s chest tightened, unwanted heat coiling low in his stomach at the sight. He gritted his teeth, stepping in after him, the steam wrapping around both of them in a heavy wave.

The water was almost too hot, but Touya liked it that way. Keigo didn’t complain, just sighed in content, small feathers twitching as beads of water soaked them. The shower was small, and with both of them in it, there was no real space left. Keigo used that to his advantage, pressing close, grinning when Touya shoved at him half-heartedly.

“Plenty of room,” Keigo said, though his chest was already flush against Touya’s, water dripping between them.

“You’re an idiot,” Touya muttered, turning his face toward the spray to hide the warmth in his cheeks.

Keigo laughed, low and pleased, and the sound vibrated against Touya’s ribs where their bodies touched. “And you like me anyway.”

Touya grunted, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. His hands came up instead, pushing wet hair back from his face, rivulets of water running down the lines of his pale scars. He caught Keigo staring again, gaze softer now, almost reverent, and Touya felt something sharp twist in his chest.

“What?” he snapped, harsher than he had intended.

Keigo didn’t seam to mind, and his grin softened. “Nothing. Just… you look good like this.”

Touya rolled his eyes, trying to shake off the way his throat tightened. “You’re full of shit.”

“Only sometimes.” Keigo leaned in, lips brushing wet against Touya’s jaw. “Not about this.”

Touya swallowed hard, heat flooding through him, that had nothing to do with the hot water running down his skin. His hand shot out, gripping Keigo’s hip tightly, both to steady himself and to remind the bird who the hell was in control. Keigo only pressed closer, eyes half-lidded, waiting, letting him set the pace.

Touya hated how much that made his chest ache. His lips crashed against Keigo’s before he could think better of it, messy and hard, water splashing between them. Keigo melted into it instantly, mouth parting, arms looping around Touya’s shoulders to drag him closer. Their teeth clicked, their tongues clashed, and Touya poured every frustrated, conflicted, desperate feeling into it, until his lungs burned and his grip on Keigo’s hip turned bruising.

Keigo moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled but desperate, and it made Touya shiver. He shoved Keigo back against the cool tile wall, swallowing the gasp it pulled from him, pinning him there with his body. Keigo arched into it, grinning against his lips even as his breath came ragged.

“Thought you wanted a shower,” Keigo teased, though his voice was shaky.

“Shut up,” Touya growled, dragging his lips down the column of his throat, biting hard enough to leave marks that wouldn’t be fading anytime soon.

Keigo’s head thudded back against the tile, a choked laugh spilling out, his hands clutching at Touya’s shoulders. “You’re—ngh—bossy when you’re worked up,” he managed, hips already rolling unconsciously against Touya’s.

Touya ignored him, sliding one wet hand down his stomach, fingers tracing lower with deliberate slowness. Keigo’s breath hitched, his grin faltering as anticipation bled into his expression. Touya smirked against his skin, relishing the shift.

“You wanted me right now,” Touya muttered, voice rough. “So don’t start whining now.”

Keigo’s laugh came out strangled, needy. “Never even crossed my mind to complain.”

Touya’s hand slid lower, wrapping around his cock, stroking once, firm and deliberate. Keigo gasped, bucking into the touch, his remaining feathers twitching helplessly behind him. His fingers dug into Touya’s wet skin, leaving crescents behind.

“Fuck, Touya.” he breathed, head tipping forward until their foreheads pressed together. Water cascaded down over both of them, plastering hair to their faces, but neither cared.

Touya’s lips curved in a small, dangerous smile. “That’s better. You sound good like this.”

Keigo’s golden eyes fluttered half shut, pupils blown wide. “You’re- hnn- gonna kill me.”

“Good.” Touya kissed him again, swallowing the moan that tore out of him when Touya’s hand slid further, teasing lower, fingers circling but not giving in yet. Keigo whined against his mouth, an uncharacteristic sound that made Touya’s blood ignite.

“Please,” Keigo rasped, breaking the kiss, panting against Touya’s lips. “Don’t- don’t fuck with me.”

Touya chuckled, low and cruel, loving the way Keigo’s composure cracked. “You begging, birdie?”

Keigo shuddered, nails raking lightly down Touya’s back. “Yeah. Begging. Don’t care, just… please.”

Touya’s chest tightened again at the honesty in his voice, but he shoved the feeling down, focusing instead on the heat coiling low in his gut. Slowly, deliberately, he slid one finger inside, the stretch making Keigo jerk against him, a strangled sound ripping from his throat.

“Shit- Touya,” Keigo gasped, clinging tighter.

Touya pressed in deeper, curling slightly, watching Keigo’s face with sharp eyes. “That what you wanted?”

Keigo nodded frantically, head tipping back against the tile, water running down his flushed skin. “Fuck, yeah-”

Touya thrust slowly, savoring the way Keigo writhed against him, the way his hips moved to chase it. “Pathetic,” Touya muttered, though his own voice was rough, strained. “Falling apart already.”

Keigo laughed breathlessly, broken at the edges. “Y-You like it.”

Touya gritted his teeth, adding a second finger without warning. Keigo moaned, bucking hard, his small wings slamming uselessly against the slick wall. Touya curled his fingers, hitting the spot that made Keigo cry out, his legs almost giving out. His head dropped forward, panting against Touya’s shoulder, moans spilling unrestrained.

Touya’s hand tightened on his hip, pinning him. “You’re a mess.”

“Yours. I’m your mess,” Keigo shot back instantly, voice raw, desperate.

The word punched the air out of Touya’s lungs. For a heartbeat, he froze, something fierce and terrifying clawing at his chest. Then his jaw clenched, and he drove his fingers in deeper, harder, swallowing down the storm inside him.

Keigo screamed his name, nails raking over scarred skin, body trembling under the relentless pace. The sound echoed off the tile, drowned only by the pounding water. Touya leaned in, teeth scraping Keigo’s throat, claiming every gasp, every moan, every broken syllable of his name.

And still, all Touya could think, in burning, consuming thoughts, was that Keigo had given himself over to him completely. No hesitation. No fear. Touya didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do with that.

So he fucked him harder with his fingers, determined to leave him ruined, voice ragged against Keigo’s ear. “Say it again.”

Keigo shuddered violently, clinging to him like he’d drown without the anchor. “Yours, Touya, I’m yours- ”

The words lit him up from the inside, hotter than his flames ever could. Touya bit down on Keigo’s shoulder to keep from blurting out something stupid, fingers working mercilessly, dragging him closer and closer to the edge. Keigo’s cries filled the shower, unrestrained, desperate, until he finally broke, clenching down on Touya’s fingers as his orgasm tore through him, body shaking, wings spasming against the slick wall. Touya held him through it, jaw tight, water pounding down over both of them, washing the mess away but leaving the rawness, the heat, the impossible truth lingering between them.

Keigo slumped heavily against the wall, boneless, panting hard, golden eyes hazy but still shining with that infuriating warmth. His lips curved weakly. “You- hnn- always this intense in the morning?”

Touya scowled, though his own breathing was rough. “Shut up.”

Keigo laughed weakly, burying his face against Touya’s shoulder, arms tightening around him. “Never.”

Touya closed his eyes, letting the water beat down on them both, his hand still resting against Keigo’s hip, his chest burning with something he didn’t dare name.

The water was hot enough to sting against Touya’s skin, when Keigo finally leaned forward, completely against him, all loose limbs and boneless weight. Touya stood there a while longer, letting the water drown out the rasp of their breathing, his arm braced against Keigo’s back so the idiot didn’t just slide down into a heap on the floor.

“Move your ass,” Touya muttered eventually, voice rough from too much silence and too much heat. “You’re dead weight.”

Keigo groaned into his shoulder, voice muffled. “M’not dead. Just blissfully incapacitated.”

Touya’s mouth twitched despite himself. “Same thing. You gonna stand or am I dragging you?”

“Drag me,” Keigo murmured, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, wet hair sticking there. “Romantic.”

Touya snorted, annoyed but not moving him. The steam curled around them thickly, blurring the mirror on the opposite wall. His body was still wound tight, but the sharp edge of it had dulled, replaced by a strange heaviness he didn’t want to think too hard about.

Finally, Touya shoved lightly at Keigo’s chest. “Up. We actually came in here to shower.”

Keigo made a pitiful noise but straightened a little, blinking through the spray. His golden eyes were soft, lids heavy, but his grin came back quick enough. “Bossy.”

Touya rolled his eyes and grabbed the bottle of shampoo perched on the rack. “Youre still gonna stink if you don’t get some damn soap on your body. You’re not getting back in my bed smelling like that.”

Keigo chuckled, leaning against the tile for balance, wings twitching idly behind him. “That an invitation to stay in your bed?”

Touya froze, then scowled harder to cover it. “It’s a condition. Don’t read into it.”

“Too late,” Keigo said, smug, tilting his head back under the spray.

Touya squeezed shampoo into his palm, ignoring him. He worked it through his own hair, fingers digging through wet strands, the familiar burn of soap in his eyes when he tilted into the spray to rinse it out. Beside him, Keigo hummed a tuneless little song, clearly waiting for attention.

“You planning on washing yourself anytime soon?” Touya asked finally, glancing sideways.

Keigo just grinned. “Nah. I like when you do it.”

Touya’s stomach twisted. He shoved the bottle at him. “Wash. Yourself.”

Keigo accepted it, eyes still sparkling, but obedient enough to squeeze a generous dollop into his hand. He worked it into his hair, water streaming down his face, suds sliding over his shoulders. The motion was lazy, half-assed, but Touya didn’t comment. Watching Keigo close his eyes and actually wash without cracking another joke was… enough.

When Keigo bent into the water to rinse, his wings fluttered again, droplets flying. Touya turned his face away to avoid getting sprayed, but still caught the ripple of movement from the corner of his eye. Keigo straightened after a moment, hair plastered to his face, grinning through the mess of water dripping down his jaw.

“Better?” Touya asked, gruff.

“Much.” Keigo’s smile softened. “You gonna scrub my back, or should I beg?”

Touya groaned. “You’re impossible.”

“Mhm,” Keigo turned, showing him his back, tilting his head innocently over his shoulder. “But here I am. Waiting.”

Touya debated ignoring him. Debated leaving him to fend for himself. But his hand moved anyway, grabbing the soap bar from its dish, lathering it between his palms until they were slick. He pressed them to Keigo’s back, sliding over damp skin, tracing scars that were usually hidden under his hero uniform.

Keigo went still under his touch, all the joking gone for once. He breathed out slow, feathers fluttering , as his head dropped forward. Touya kept working in silence, dragging suds down his spine, across his shoulders, deliberate and steady. His own throat felt tight, but he ignored it, finishing quickly and shoving Keigo toward the spray.

“Done,” Touya muttered.

Keigo tilted his face back into the water, rinsing off, then glanced over his shoulder with that damn smile again. “Thanks, hot stuff.”

Touya huffed, annoyed at how his chest clenched at the words. “Whatever.”

He turned to grab his own soap, rubbing it down over his chest and stomach, tracing the edges of old scars. Keigo didn’t look away, and Touya could feel it, hot and obvious against his skin.

“What,” he sighed finally.

“You.” Keigo’s grin widened. “Just you.”

Touya rolled his eyes, focusing on scrubbing the soap into his arms. “You’re an idiot.”

“Do you normally fall in love with idiots?” Keigo asked cheerfully, not missing a beat.

Touya almost dropped the soap as heat rushed up his neck and across his face. He shoved past Keigo instead, standing under the spray to rinse off, letting the water batter against him until it was too hot, until his skin stung. Keigo shifted closer, their shoulders bumping, his warmth obvious even under the scalding water.

“Move over,” Touya muttered.

“There’s no room,” Keigo said, not moving an inch.

Touya shoved him lightly, but the bird just laughed, bumping back until Touya gave up, standing shoulder to shoulder under the spray. Their arms brushed every time one of them moved, deliberate on Keigo’s part, but Touya didn’t pull away.

They washed in silence for a while after that, the only sound being the rush of water as it pounded against the tiled floor. Touya focused on the simple motions, soap, rinse, repeat, grateful for something to keep his hands busy, his mind steady.

When he finished, he turned off the water without warning, steam immediately heavier around them. Keigo blinked, hair plastered to his face, water dripping from his lashes.

“Already?” he asked, mock-disappointed.

Touya grabbed a towel from the rack, scrubbing it roughly over his hair. “We’re clean. That was the point.”

Keigo stretched, wings fluttering out as much as they could with how little feathers were there. “Mmm. I liked the view, though.”

Touya glared at him through the damp towel. “You’re disgusting.”

“You like it. Besides didn’t you just get me off in the shower?” Keigo winked, snatching the other towel and rubbing it lazily over his own hair.

Touya muttered under his breath, turning toward the fogged mirror. Their reflections were blurred, indistinct shapes through the haze, and something about it made his chest ache. He looked away quickly, focusing on drying his shoulders instead.

Keigo stepped closer, towel draped over his shoulders now, still damp and grinning like a fool. He bumped his hip against Touya’s. “So, breakfast?”

Touya froze, blinking at him. “What?”

“Breakfast,” Keigo repeated. “You, me, maybe some eggs?”

Touya groaned, dragging the towel down his face. “You’re unbearable.”

Keigo laughed, bright and easy, filling the small bathroom until the walls felt too close. Touya shoved past him, muttering about needing clothes, but Keigo just followed, golden eyes glinting with that same warmth that made Touya’s chest burn worse than any flame ever had.

Touya stalked towards his room, towel hanging loose around his neck, the soles of his feet damp against the floor. The apartment still smelled faintly of smoke from the last time he’d overused his quirk, and under it, the clean bite of steam that clung to his skin now. He rubbed the towel roughly through his hair, trying not to think about the sound of footsteps behind him, the lazy shuffle, the drip of water as Keigo shook his feathers.

Keigo followed like he owned the place. He didn’t even bother with modesty, towel slung haphazard over his hips, grinning like the entire world was some inside joke Touya wasn’t in on.

Touya dropped the towel onto the foot of the bed and went straight to his dresser. He yanked drawers open, pulling out whatever was on top: sweatpants, a faded t-shirt, socks. He’d barely tossed the shirt onto the mattress when Keigo whistled behind him.

“Sharing clothes already? Careful, Tou, people are gonna start thinking we’re domestic.”

Touya scowled without looking back. “You’d be naked if I didn’t give you something, unless you wanted your clothes from yesterday. Don’t flatter yourself.”

Keigo hummed, clearly amused. “Naked and proud, but fine. I’ll wear your stuff. Bet it smells like you anyway.”

“Of course it will,” Touya muttered, but the tips of his ears burned.

He dragged on his own sweatpants, tugging the waistband tight, then turned with another shirt in hand. He tossed it at Keigo’s chest. The bird caught it easily, laughing.

“This’ll never fit my wings, y’know.”

“Then don’t wear it,” Touya shot back, already pulling his own shirt on.

Keigo tilted his head, smiling sly. “Or you could fix it for me. Romantic gesture, all that.”

Touya’s sighed before giving in. He strode across the room, grabbed the shirt back out of Keigo’s hand, and yanked at the fabric. His quirk flared hot at his fingertips, and with a quick, rough burn he tore a neat hole into the back of the shirt, smoke curling faintly from the edges. He shoved it back into Keigo’s hands without a word.

Keigo blinked, then laughed so hard he nearly doubled over. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Shut up and put it on,” Touya hissed, sitting back down on the edge of the bed to tug on his socks.

Keigo did as told, still chuckling, slipping the shirt over his head. His damp hair stuck up everywhere, the neckline sagged against his collarbone, and the fabric clung to his shoulders where it was still wet. The back stretched around the opening Touya had made, framing the bare muscle of his back.

Then, with a soft rustle, Keigo closed his eyes and summoned his feathers back. One by one they flew in from the corner of the room, slipping back into place until his wings were full again, spreading wide for a moment before folding neatly. The motion sent a faint gust of air through the room, ruffling Touya’s hair.

Touya glanced up at him. “Dont intentionally shed all over the place again.”

Keigo grinned, flexing his wings smugly. “Can’t promise that. You’re kind of stuck with the mess.”

Touya huffed and turned away, dragging his hands through his wet hair one more time. He meant to stand, meant to start moving about his day, but then Keigo’s weight hit the mattress beside him, bouncing it.

“Bed looks lonely,” Keigo said, voice sing-song. “We should fix that.”

Touya gave him a flat look. “We just got out of the shower.”

“Exactly,” Keigo said, and before Touya could protest further, he was tugged back. Keigo’s arm wrapped around his waist, wings spreading slightly as leverage, and Touya found himself falling onto the mattress again, half sprawled against the pillows.

“Idiot,” Touya hissed, pushing at him, but Keigo was stronger than he looked when he wanted something.

“Mm, comfy,” Keigo murmured, burying his face against Touya’s shoulder, his damp hair cooling against Touya’s skin. “See? Perfect.”

Touya struggled for a moment longer, scowling, before finally letting out a long, exhausted sigh. His body gave in, sinking into the mattress, the warmth of Keigo pressed close. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re not moving,” Keigo pointed out, voice muffled.

Touya closed his eyes, resigned. His hand found its way into Keigo’s hair almost unconsciously, fingers combing through the damp strands. Keigo hummed contentedly, wings shifting before settling heavy across them both like a blanket.

The room was quiet except for their breathing. Touya could feel his heartbeat slowing, his muscles loosening despite himself. Keigo’s warmth was relentless, seeping in until it wrapped around every frayed edge inside him.

Touya hated it. Hated it because it felt good. Hated it because he wanted it.

“Hot stuff?” Keigo’s voice was soft now, almost cautious.

Touya grunted in reply, eyes still closed.

“You’re not fighting me anymore,” Keigo murmured, the smile audible in his voice.

Touya’s fingers tightened briefly in his hair before relaxing. “Shut up.”

Keigo laughed quietly, a breath against his neck. “Never.”

Touya let him have the last word, because for once, he was too tired to fight it.

The minutes stretched on, the apartment wrapped in silence. Keigo shifted closer, Touya’s arm stayed tangled in his hair, and despite every instinct screaming against it, he gave in.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t often that Touya found himself getting nervous, and even when he did, he was good at hiding it. Years of dragging himself through fire and ash had made him unreadable to almost everyone, even when his chest twisted tight enough to cut his breath short.

Tonight was no different. He leaned back in the passenger seat with one arm propped against the window, head tilted slightly, eyes half-lidded like he hadn’t a single thought in the world. But his hand was curled hard against his thigh, fingertips tapping an irregular rhythm he couldn’t quite stop. Keigo didn’t seem to notice, or at least if he did, he hadn’t said a word about it. His boyfriend, his anchor, his reckless idiot, was humming under his breath in that distracted way he always did when driving, wings relaxed against the seat as though the world didn’t weigh him down. Golden eyes flicked between the road and the streetlights that were streaming past, and a crooked grin tugged at his mouth when he caught Touya staring.

“You keep staring like that, Tou, it looks like you wanna fuck me,” Keigo teased, tossing him a quick sideways glance.

Touya snorted. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Mm, depends where,” Keigo drawled. “Not in the car though. Pretty sure your old man would murder us if we showed up looking like we just fucked.”

The reminder had Touya rolling his eyes, though it covered the small spark of heat that jumped in his chest at the word “we.” Two and a half years, and that stupid word still got to him. He wasn’t alone anymore, hadn’t been since Keigo had bulldozed his way past every wall Touya thought he’d built high enough. Friday dinners at his family’s house had become routine, normal, even, though Touya never thought he’d use that word about anything connected to the Todoroki household. Touya had gone to a few before him and Keigo started dating, but afterwards, Keigo had started to drag him into it, claiming it’d be “good for him,” like Touya was some half-wild thing that needed taming. But now it was just habit.

Family dinners, every week, like clockwork. Rei smiling across the table with something softer than Touya remembered in her expression. Shoto sitting stiff but slowly loosening, learning how to talk about normal things instead of only training and strategy. Fuyumi was always fussing trying to make sure no one argued, with Rumi usually tossing in a flirty comment to distract her. It had taken a while for everyone to get used to the fact that Fuyumi was dating Mirko, but once they did, it became normal for the rabbit hero to show up to the family dinners. Natsuo often grumbled about being there, but always seemed pleased to see his siblings. Even Enji (though Touya would never admit it) had changed, just enough that Touya didn’t want to set him on fire every time he opened his mouth.

It wasn’t perfect, never would be, but it was theirs.

And tonight, if Touya didn’t get too nervous to go through with what he planned, it would become something else.

He shifted slightly, fingers brushing against the small shape of the box tucked inside his jacket pocket. He had checked at least ten times before they left the apartment, but he still reached again, subtle, just to be sure. The ring box pressed against his palm through the fabric. Still there. It made his heart hammer just thinking about what he was going to do.

Keigo didn’t seem to notice how nervous Touya was acting. He was too busy whistling off-key to some song Touya didn’t recognize, one hand loose on the wheel, the other tapping against his thigh. Keigo’s tapping was something Touya had gotten used to over the two and a half years of dating Keigo. He’d drum his fingers against any surface, tables, glasses, walls, himself, always doing it subconsciously.

The car turned onto a familiar street, and Touya caught sight of the light spilling out of the windows of the Todoroki household in the distance. His jaw tightened and his heart gave an unhelpful kick against his ribs. He made himself breathe slow, lazy, the way he always did when he didn’t want anyone to see how he was actually feeling.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Keigo said suddenly, glancing over again. His feathers shifted once, an unconscious twitch Touya knew meant he was paying closer attention than he let on.

Touya arched a brow. “I’m always quiet.”

“Yeah, but this is a different kind of quiet.” Keigo tilted his head, grin edging mischievous. “It’s not the brooding ‘I hate everything’ quiet, I’m used to. This one’s got… layers.”

Touya smirked. “Layers? What, like an onion?”

Keigo laughed, warm and easy, and Touya’s chest eased a little at the sound. “Exactly like an onion. Spicy, complicated, makes people cry if they cut too close.”

Touya chuckled under his breath, but it wasn’t loud enough for Keigo to hear.

The driveway came into view, a few vehicles already parked along the curb. Touya recognized Natsuo’s beat-up sedan, and Rumi’s motorcycle gleaming under the streetlight, parked like she couldn’t have cared less where she put it. His pulse ticked faster again. Everyone was already inside, waiting for them as usual, since Touya and Keigo were often last to arrive.

The car rolled to a stop, and Keigo killed the engine, feathers twitching once more before stilling. He turned to Touya, grin softening into something smaller, almost gentle.

“You good?” he asked quietly.

Touya held his gaze. Keigo was too damn good at reading people, too good at poking past armor and slipping into cracks no one else noticed. He couldn’t afford to let him see through this. At least not tonight.

So he gave a lazy shrug, mouth curving in a smirk. “Course. Just another Friday, birdie.”

Keigo studied him for a moment longer, then nodded, satisfied. “Alright. Let’s go wow your family with our combined charm and devastating good looks.”

“Pretty sure they’re sick of you already,” Touya muttered, though he knew damn well that was a lie, his family loved Keigo. He didn’t move to get out of the car until Keigo was already halfway there, wings flaring in the cool evening air. Touya pushed the door open, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets, one brushing the box again. Just to check that it was still there.

They walked up the driveway together, Keigo’s steps light and quick, Touya’s slower, steadier. He caught the faint glow of the porch light reflecting off Keigo’s hair, the way it always looked more golden in the evenings, and something sharp twisted in his chest. Keigo had no idea. Not yet.

The front door opened before Keigo managed to get to a third knock.

Fuyumi’s face appeared in the doorway, eyes lighting up instantly. “There you are! We were starting to wonder if you two got lost.”

“Blame him,” Touya said, jerking his chin at Keigo. “He drives like a grandma.”

“Safe and steady,” Keigo corrected cheerfully, sweeping into the doorway with exaggerated flair. “Wouldn’t want to deprive you all of my wonderful presence by dying in a car crash.”

Fuyumi rolled her eyes, though her smile didn’t falter. She stepped aside to let them in, warmth spilling from the hallway. The smell of food drifted faintly through the air, though dinner wasn’t on the table yet. Touya’s chest tightened again, the weight of what he carried suddenly heavier.

Inside, the house was alive with voices. Natsuo’s laugh echoed from the living room, sharp and amused, Rumi’s distinct voice carried over the sound, brash and loud as ever, Shoto’s lower tone threaded quietly between them, and Rei’s softer murmur came from farther in. Touya caught the rumble of Enji’s voice too, low and controlled, the kind of sound that once would’ve sent his hackles rising instantly. Now it only made his jaw clench.

Keigo slipped out of his jacket and hung it neatly, wings brushing briefly against Touya’s arm as he moved. It was casual, unconscious, but grounding. Fuyumi glanced between them with that too-knowing look she always had, the one Touya hated and appreciated in equal measure. She didn’t say anything, just smiled a little wider.

Touya shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, trying to calm his nerves. Tonight, he reminded himself, he just had to make it through tonight.

Touya didn’t bother with pleasantries when they stepped into the living room. He never did, and no one really expected him to. He hovered by the doorway with his hands in his jacket pockets, eyes sweeping lazily over the room as if he wasn’t already cataloguing everything at once. Keigo, of course, had no such restraint.

“Evening, everyone!” Keigo announced, his voice warm and obnoxiously cheerful as he strode in like he owned the place, wings fanning slightly before settling against his back. He smiled at Rei, who was perched neatly on one end of the couch, and then shifted his gaze to Natsuo, his grin widening. “Hope you saved us some fun conversation.”

“Depends what you call fun,” Natsuo replied dryly, but he stood to clap Keigo on the shoulder in a familiar way that still made Touya’s stomach twist sometimes. “We were talking about Rumi’s last fight, so yeah, you’d probably call it fun.”

“You mean the one where I knocked that guy out in two minutes flat?” Rumi said from her seat, one leg propped casually over the armrest of the chair she’d claimed. Her ears twitched as she smirked, eyes gleaming. “Because that was fun.”

Keigo laughed easily, sinking onto the couch near her. “Should’ve been a pay-per-view. I would’ve bet on you and cleaned up.”

“You always loose whenever you do a bet with literally anyone,” Rumi shot back.

“I’d never bet against you, Rumi. You’re terrifying.” Keigo laughed, and she grinned in approval.

Touya exhaled slowly through his nose, moving further into the room at his own pace. All three of his siblings’ eyes flicked toward him in sync, subtle but sharp in the way they always were. Shoto gave him a faint nod from where he sat near the window, his posture straight but not nearly as stiff as it once had been. Natsuo, still standing, gave him an acknowledging look, nothing more. And Fuyumi, hovering just behind with her ever-present soft smile, looked far too pleased about something she wasn’t going to say out loud. Rei’s expression was calm and welcoming, her smile small but genuine.

She spoke, breaking the silence that had just begun to feel slightly suffocating. “It’s good to see you both. You’re right on time.”

“Wouldn’t want to ruin your schedule,” Touya said, his voice low but steady.

Rei’s smile widened, just slightly, and that was enough to make Touya glance away, irritated with himself for how much it still got to him.

Keigo filled the silence with his usual ease, stretching his wings as he leaned back on the couch. “Traffic was a mess, but my perfect driving got us here safely. You’re welcome.”

“You drive like a granny,” Touya muttered automatically, which earned him a quick grin from Keigo and a muffled laugh from Natsuo.

“I’ll take ‘granny’ over road-maniac any day,” Keigo said, and the back-and-forth, practiced and familiar, earned a few eye rolls but no complaints.

The sound of a throat clearing drew everyone’s attention briefly toward the corner of the room, where Enji had been silent until now. He was seated in the armchair nearest Rei, posture solid, hands clasped in front of him. His gaze landed on Touya for a long second before shifting to Keigo, then back again. His expression was unreadable, though the weight behind it was unmistakable.

Touya didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. He held his father’s stare with that same lazy indifference he’d perfected, though his fingers flexed once inside his pocket against the hidden box.

“Glad you could made it,” Enji said finally, his voice even but still carrying that deep rumble.

Touya wanted to scoff. He and Keigo hadn’t missed a single Todoroki family dinner over the past two years, of course they’d come.

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it,” Touya replied instead, his tone flat enough that it gave nothing away.

Keigo, sensing the current as he always did, jumped in to lighten it. “Wouldn’t miss Fuyumi’s cooking, you mean. Priorities, right?”

Rei laughed quietly, the sound pulling the tension in the room down a notch, and Enji said nothing more. Fuyumi clapped her hands together suddenly, the brightness in her tone too forced to be natural but effective all the same. “Dinner’s just about ready. Babe, would you mind helping me carry everything to the table?”

“On it,” Rumi said immediately, springing up from her chair with her usual restless energy. She followed Fuyumi toward the kitchen, tossing a wink at Keigo on the way out. “Don’t steal my seat.”

Around a year ago, Keigo had intentionally ditched his own seat to steal Rumi’s when she’d gotten up to go to the bathroom. She hadn’t gotten over it and they still joked about it frequently.

“No promises,” Keigo called back, though he made no move to do so.

Touya stayed standing for a moment longer, lingering at the edge of the living room. His eyes flicked again around the room, taking in the way Shoto’s gaze shifted toward him briefly, the faint press of Rei’s hand against her lap like she wanted to say something but didn’t. Natsuo was smirking faintly at him, as if he knew something Touya didn’t want him to. Enji was silent, his presence heavy even when he didn’t speak.

And Keigo was still leaned back comfortably, his expression relaxed, his grin easy, golden eyes flicking toward Touya every few seconds in that subtle way he probably didn’t even realize he did.

Touya let out another slow breath and finally moved, taking the open spot near the couch arm, close enough that when Keigo shifted slightly their shoulders brushed. It grounded him, steadying the rapid thud of his pulse.

Conversation picked back up, scattered threads winding together in the way family dinners always went. Natsuo cracked a joke about one of his friends, Shoto answered a question from Rei in clipped but genuine sentences, Keigo chimed in with some ridiculous story from patrol earlier in the week that had everyone rolling their eyes but smiling anyway. Touya listened more than he spoke, as he usually did, but his gaze drifted toward the kitchen more than once.

He could hear faint clatter of dishes, the murmur of Fuyumi’s voice, and Rumi’s louder reply. The smell of food was stronger now, filling the air with warmth that curled into Touya’s chest despite himself. It was strange, still, to think of this as something normal. He hadn’t come to these dinners once before Keigo. Now he hadn’t missed a single one in over two years.

The scrape of chairs and the soft clinking of plates signaled the kitchen door swinging open again. Fuyumi appeared first, carrying a large platter of steaming food, her smile bright. Rumi followed close behind with two dishes balanced effortlessly in her arms, ears twitching as she announced, “Alright, move your asses, table’s ready.”

Rei rose smoothly, offering to take one of the smaller dishes from Rumi, who allowed it with mock reluctance. Shoto stood next, quiet but efficient, moving toward the dining room, and natsuo stretched exaggeratedly before getting up, tossing a grin back at Touya as if daring him to stay sitting.

Keigo sprang up immediately, wings giving a small flutter. “Lead the way. I’m starving.”

Touya stayed put for one beat longer, just to prove to himself he could. Then, with a low grunt, he pushed to his feet and followed. His hand brushed his pocket again out of habit, checking. The dining room table was already set, neat and precise the way Fuyumi always arranged it. Plates, utensils, glasses, everything in its place. The food was laid out quickly, dish after dish filling the table until it looked like a feast. The smell was rich and inviting, steam curling upward.

Everyone moved to their usual spots without much thought, habit ingrained after so many months of the same routine. Rei at one end, Enji at the other, with Shoto on Rei’s side and Natsuo on Enji’s. Fuyumi sat beside Shoto, with Rumi sliding in next to her. Keigo had long ago claimed the seat beside Natsuo, leaving the open chair beside him for Touya. Touya slipped into it wordlessly, his knee brushing against Keigo’s under the table. Keigo didn’t look at him, didn’t react outwardly, but Touya felt the small shift of his foot pressing lightly against his boot, grounding.

Fuyumi, bustling around one last time to make sure everything was set, finally sat down with a relieved sigh. Rumi leaned back instantly, arms crossed, eyes glinting with her usual mischievous energy.

“Looks good,” Natsuo said, reaching for the nearest dish only to have Fuyumi swat his hand away.

“Wait until everyone’s ready,” she scolded automatically.

Touya smirked faintly, leaning back in his chair, his hand curling loosely in his lap. His heart was still beating too fast, the weight in his pocket a constant reminder. He forced his expression to stay easy, unreadable. Keigo, oblivious, stretched his wings just slightly and let them settle, golden eyes bright as he glanced around the table.

The noise of everyone settling, chairs scraping against the floor, voices overlapping briefly, filled the room. Rei’s soft voice cut through with a calm suggestion to begin.

The first sounds of chopsticks against ceramic were tentative, almost polite, as if everyone at the table was waiting for someone else to break the unspoken rule of being too eager. Natsuo didn’t last long. He reached forward with exaggerated speed, scooping a hefty portion of rice onto his plate and grinning shamelessly at Fuyumi as though daring her to scold him again.

“You always say to start eating while it’s hot,” he said, feigning innocence. “So really, I’m just following instructions.”

Fuyumi gave him a look that would’ve melted most people, but Natsuo only grinned wider. Rumi reached across him without hesitation, snatching the serving spoon next.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she said, piling food onto her plate in unapologetically large portions. “Gotta keep my strength up.”

Keigo leaned forward immediately, eyes lighting up. “That’s my kind of philosophy.” He reached for the chicken before Fuyumi’s glare stopped him halfway.

“Keigo,” she said, tone firm but not unkind. “Don’t you dare put most of that chicken on your plate.”

Keigo clutched at his chest dramatically, wings giving a little flutter for effect. “You wound me, Fuyumi. You really think i’d do such a thing?”

Touya knew that Keigo had absolutely been about to put most of the chicken on his plate.

“You’re a repeat offender,” Rumi cut in through a mouthful, ears twitching in amusement.

Touya smirked faintly into his glass of water, lifting it to his lips before he said anything. “She’s got a point. You eat like you’ve been starved for weeks.”

“Hey,” Keigo shot back, golden eyes glinting as he leaned sideways just enough for his knee to nudge against Touya’s under the table. “Patrolling burns calories. Some of us actually put in effort.”

“Some of us don’t yap the whole time and waste energy,” Touya returned, his tone flat, though his mouth twitched slightly at the corner.

The exchange drew a small chuckle from Rei, who had been quietly serving herself with deliberate, neat movements. “It’s nice to hear the two of you still have so much energy after your work,” she said softly, her voice carrying that unassuming calm that somehow settled the table for a moment.

“It’s not energy, Mom,” Natsuo said, already halfway through his first bite. “It’s just bickering. They can’t help themselves.”

“It keeps things entertaining,” Fuyumi offered with a smile, finally allowing Keigo to reach for the chicken once she and Shoto had gotten enough of it that Keigo could take the rest.

Shoto, silent until then, gave a small hum of acknowledgment. His chopsticks moved with careful precision, lifting a piece of food to his mouth without any apparent urgency.

When he finished chewing, he spoke evenly. “You argue the same way on patrol. There’s videos.”

“Observant as ever, little brother,” Touya drawled, though he didn’t argue.

Rumi barked a laugh, leaning back in her chair. “I’ve seen the clips. You two sound like an old married couple out there. Don’t even try to deny it.”

Keigo’s grin spread like wildfire, his eyes flicking toward Touya with unmistakable mischief. “Hear that? Married couple. She said it, not me.”

Touya gave him a flat look, heat crawling under his skin that he refused to let show. His fingers twitched once against his thigh, brushing the outline of the box hidden in his jacket. Not yet. He forced himself to take another slow sip of water instead.

Natsuo snorted. “Honestly, it’s impressive. Usually you only get that level of banter once people have lived together long enough to get used to each other’s habits.”

Keigo didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, we’ve lived together long enough. I know all his habits. Every single one.”

That earned him a round of groans from both Shoto and Natsuo, while Rumi leaned forward with interest. “Careful, birdie. You sound like you’re about to overshare.”

Touya shot him a warning glance sharp enough to slice through steel. Keigo, predictably, ignored it, though his grin softened just a fraction. “Relax. I won’t tell them about the way you hog all the blankets.”

Rumi snorted, and Natsuo nearly choked on his food. Even Fuyumi, trying valiantly to keep order, hid a smile behind her chopsticks. Rei’s quiet laughter was a soft undercurrent beneath it all.

Touya rolled his eyes, shoving a piece of food into his mouth just to avoid answering. Keigo looked far too pleased with himself, wings twitching in smug rhythm.
Enji, who had been silent so far, finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through the laughter without sharpness but with undeniable weight. “You both seem settled.” His eyes moved between Touya and Keigo, assessing, measuring. “It’s… good.”

The table quieted slightly, the shift palpable. Touya didn’t look at him, didn’t give him the satisfaction of a direct response. He only muttered, “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep him from self-destructing.”

Keigo chuckled, but there was something softer in the sound this time, less showy. “Works both ways.”

The silence that followed was not uncomfortable, exactly, but heavier than the banter before. Rei broke it gently, her voice careful. “It’s nice to have everyone together like this. Every week, I look forward to it.”

“Yeah,” Natsuo said, leaning back in his chair, his grin softer now. “Didn’t think we’d ever get here, honestly.”

“Neither did I,” Rei admitted, her hands folded neatly in her lap once she set her chopsticks down. Her gaze moved briefly to Touya, lingering just long enough to make his chest tighten before sliding away.

Keigo, sensing the weight again, jumped in to redirect. “Well, for what it’s worth, these dinners are the highlight of my week. Free food, good company, and endless opportunities to embarrass your son.”

Touya kicked him under the table, earning a muffled laugh.

Rumi, still grinning, reached for another helping. “You say ‘free food’ like you don’t already raid his fridge half the week.”

“Hey, I contribute!” Keigo protested. “I bring takeout.”

“Stale fries don’t count,” Touya muttered.

The laughter that followed this time was easier, lighter, the heaviness dissolving once more into familiar rhythm. Plates clinked as everyone served themselves seconds, chopsticks darting from dish to dish, voices layering over one another in comfortable chaos.

Shoto spoke up again, quieter than the rest but deliberate. “You mentioned a strange case earlier,” he said, glancing toward Keigo. “Something about a civilian interfering during a patrol?”

Keigo perked up instantly, leaning forward. “Oh, right. That was wild. So we’re chasing this purse-snatcher through downtown, right? Pretty routine. But suddenly this random guy jumps in, swinging a broom like he’s about to slay a dragon. Trips over his own feet and nearly takes me out instead.”

Rumi cackled. “Please tell me someone got that on video.”

“Oh, it’s out there,” Keigo confirmed, smirking. “Number Three Hero, Hawks, taken down by broom-wielding civilian. My reputation’s ruined.”

Touya snorted. “Would’ve served you right.”

Keigo shot him a look, exaggeratedly wounded. “You wound me again, hot stuff.”

“Stop calling me that in front of them,” Touya muttered, though his ears burned faintly.

Fuyumi laughed quietly, shaking her head. “You two never change.”

“Good thing, too,” Natsuo said with a grin. “Dinner would be boring without their constant bickering.”

Touya ignored him, focusing on his food, though his knee pressed back against Keigo’s under the table with deliberate force. Keigo only grinned wider, unbothered.

The conversation rolled on, touching on Shoto’s recent school reports, Fuyumi’s updates from school, and Rumi’s gleeful retelling of her latest sparring match where she’d allegedly “knocked some sense” into another pro hero. Laughter rang out again and again, the rhythm of the table steady, familiar, alive.

Through it all, Touya sat with his mask of indifference, his words sharp when he chose to use them, his silences comfortable when he didn’t. But under the table, his hand brushed his pocket again and again, feeling the weight of the ring box hidden there. His family’s voices swirled around him, Keigo’s laughter cutting bright through it all, and his chest ached with something hot and unfamiliar.

He didn’t let it show. He couldn’t, not yet.

The plates filled, emptied, refilled again. The clink of chopsticks, the murmur of voices, the occasional burst of laughter, all blurred together into something steady, something real.

It wasn’t long before dinner wound down the way it always did, slowly and with more conversation than actual eating, chopsticks clinking against ceramic as everyone reached for just one more helping even when their plates were nearly empty. The dishes on the table were half-gone, steam rising less steadily now, the sharp edges of hunger softened into content fullness. The room was warm, voices overlapping in that familiar rhythm that Touya still sometimes caught himself marveling at. He wasn’t sure when this chaos had started to feel like home, but it had, and that thought alone was enough to twist his stomach tonight tighter than any other Friday.

Natsuo leaned back first, stretching his arms above his head with a groan. “I swear, I’m gonna explode if I eat another bite.”

“You always say that,” Fuyumi said with exasperated fondness, though she reached forward to clear his plate anyway.

“And I always mean it,” he replied, though his grin was easy. “Worth it every time.”

Rumi snorted, setting down her chopsticks with a clatter. “Lightweight. I could eat double this.” She thumped her chest proudly. “That’s how you stay strong.”

“You also train six hours most days,” Keigo pointed out, leaning his chin into his palm as he grinned at her. “Pretty sure the rest of us would just die trying to keep up.”

Rumi flicked an ear at him, smug. “Exactly.”

Touya had already set his chopsticks down, appetite dulled not from the food but from the weight pressing against his ribs, his nerves putting him off the food. He sipped at his water instead, his hand under the table brushing against his pocket again and again. He could feel every pair of eyes at the table catching the small tells, even if they pretended otherwise. His family wasn’t oblivious. He’d told them beforehand about his plan, and he’d been acting calm all evening despite his nerves. He knew that they could see straight through him though. They knew he was nervous.

Rei was the first to break the rhythm, her voice soft but carrying through the noise. “Thank you, everyone, for eating well. Fuyumi, the food was wonderful.”

Fuyumi flushed slightly, ducking her head. “It was nothing. I’m glad everyone liked it.”

“It was great,” Keigo said immediately, his voice bright, wings twitching once as he leaned forward. “Seriously, you spoil me every week. If I had to cook half of this, we’d all be poisoned.”

Touya smirked faintly at that, though the motion was fleeting, his chest tightening again. His siblings exchanged glances around the table, Shoto was subtle, Natsuo was not at all subtle, Fuyumi tried and failed to hide a smile, Rumi grinned like she was already in on the joke. Enji stayed silent, but Touya caught the shift of his heavy gaze in his peripheral vision, steady and sharp.

Keigo was oblivious, or maybe just distracted, golden eyes bright as he leaned back in his chair, sighing contentedly. “I’m serious, though. Every week feels like a holiday at this table.”

The words, so casual, hit Touya harder than he expected. He swallowed once, the weight in his jacket pocket now unbearable. He forced himself to sit back, to roll his shoulders in an attempt at laziness. It didn’t work. He could feel it in every line of his body, he was about to break routine.

Rumi’s ears twitched as she looked at him, smirk curling her mouth. “You’re awful quiet tonight, Touya. Planning something?”

Keigo barked a laugh at that, turning to Touya instantly. “What, him? Planning? Nah, don’t think so. He just likes to brood.”

Touya gave him a flat look that made Keigo grin wider, but he didn’t answer right away. His hand tightened once in his pocket, curling around the small box, grounding himself with its weight. The table had gone quieter than it should’ve, the kind of quiet that meant they were waiting, every one of them except the man sitting closest to him. Keigo was still relaxed, still smirking, still utterly unaware of the way the air had shifted around him.

Touya drew in a slow breath through his nose. His heart hammered hard enough that he wondered, absurdly, if everyone else could hear it. He pushed his chair back slightly, the scrape of wood against the floor loud in the silence. Keigo turned toward him instantly, brows furrowing in mild confusion.

“What are you do-” he started, but stopped dead as Touya rose to his feet.

The air in the room tightened. Natsuo bit down on his lip to hide a grin and Fuyumi pressed her hands together in front of her mouth. Shoto’s eyes sharpened, focused entirely whilst Rumi looked like she was watching the best fight of her life. Rei’s expression softened, a hand coming up to press against her chest. Enji’s jaw was set, his eyes locked on Touya like he didn’t dare blink.

Keigo just blinked up at him, his wings twitching once in surprise, golden eyes wide with something halfway between confusion and dawning realization. Touya reached into his pocket, his fingers were steady even if his chest was not. He pulled out the small black box, the weight of it suddenly heavier than fire. He dropped to one knee right beside Keigo’s chair.

The world narrowed instantly, voices gone, the only sound the sharp inhale Keigo made as his feathers flared wide in shock. His hand flew to his mouth, eyes impossibly wide, color flushing high across his cheekbones.

Touya flipped the box open, the ring catching the light just enough to gleam. It was a simple gold band with a small ruby embedded into it, Touya had been sure to pick carefully.

His voice, when he spoke, was steady, low but strong, carrying in the silence. “Keigo.”

Keigo’s mouth dropped open, then closed, then opened again, utterly lost for words. His wings flared and twitched and trembled, feathers rustling audibly, his hand covering his face as though to hide the way it split into the brightest, most helpless grin Touya had ever seen.

Touya’s chest ached, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. His gaze stayed locked on Keigo’s, unflinching, every word pushed out steady and deliberate. “You’re loud. You’re annoying. You talk too much. You eat like a starving animal. And somehow, after all of that, I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You’ve been here every day, dragging me along whether I wanted it or not. You’ve made everything heavier and easier all at once. You’re the only one who ever… who ever made me want more.”

Keigo made a strangled sound behind his hand, eyes shimmering, feathers trembling. His chair creaked as he shifted, leaning forward as if the air itself was too much.

Touya swallowed hard once, but his voice didn’t shake. He held up the ring, still steady, still sure. “So. What do you say, birdie? You wanna marry me?”

The silence was deafening for a single, endless heartbeat. And then Keigo exploded.

“Holy shit,” he burst out, his wings flaring wide enough that a few feathers scattered to the floor. His hands flew into his hair, tugging once before slapping over his face again, his laugh spilling out wild and incredulous.

“Holy shit, Touya, are you serious? Are you- ” He broke off, his voice cracking as his wings trembled violently, his golden eyes wide and wet when he finally dragged his hands down to look at him.

Touya arched a brow, his smirk small but steady. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

Keigo’s laugh tore out of him, half-sob, half-disbelieving joy. “Oh my god. Oh my god. You- holy shit.” He was rambling, feathers twitching, his whole body vibrating with nervous energy as he struggled to even breathe properly. His hand pressed hard against his chest, like he could keep his heart from flying out of it.

Behind him, the family was silent but buzzing, every eye locked on them, the weight of their anticipation filling the room. Rumi’s grin was wild, Natsuo’s hands covered his mouth to smother a laugh, Shoto’s eyes were sharper than ever, Fuyumi’s smile was trembling, Rei’s gaze was luminous, Enji’s face was unreadable but intense.

But none of it mattered, because Keigo was looking at him like he’d just been handed the entire world and had no idea how to hold it.

Touya raised a brow, his voice cutting through Keigo’s frantic laughter. “Well?”

Keigo choked, his feathers shivering as he dragged both hands down his face again, staring at him with something raw and bright and overwhelming. “Yes! Oh my god, yes, of course yes! Are you- fuck, yes!”

His wings snapped once in pure, uncontrollable excitement, nearly knocking into Natsuo, who yelped and shoved them away with a laugh. Keigo didn’t even seem to notice. He was leaning forward so far Touya thought he might fall out of his chair entirely, his grin wide and shaky and beautiful.

Touya exhaled, slow and steady, relief burning through him hotter than fire. He slid the ring from the box and caught Keigo’s hand, slipping it onto his finger with precise care. Keigo’s hand trembled, but not as much as Touya’s had started to. The ring slid into place, gleaming under the light.

Keigo stared at it, utterly undone, his laugh bubbling out helplessly. “Holy shit. I’m engaged. We’re- fuck, Touya, we’re engaged.”

Touya smirked faintly, his chest aching with something too big to name. “Guess we are, yeah.”

Touya couldn’t care less how much his voice was shaking in that moment.

Keigo launched forward instantly, arms wrapping around him with enough force to nearly knock them both off balance, wings curving around them in a cocoon of feathers. His laughter was wild in Touya’s ear, his breath shaky, his voice breaking as he kept repeating it, over and over. “Yes, yes, yes- ”

Touya let himself lean into it, his arms coming up to steady him, his mouth twitching into something that almost resembled a smile.

Around them, the room erupted, Touya could hear each of them cheering and laughing. It was all muffled by the way his heart was pounding so loud, all he could hear was his own heartbeat. Everyone else’s presence felt less like a weight and more like something begrudgingly solid.

But all Touya really focused on was Keigo, loud and breathless and impossibly happy, holding onto him like he never planned to let go. Touya definitely didn’t plan to let him let go.