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i.
It starts, as most terrible ideas do, at three in the morning.
Hawks is not often one to have trouble sleeping through the night, but sometimes the tumultuous thoughts running through his mind simply refuse to allow him rest. So, after tossing and turning for hours to no avail, he decided fuck it, I’ll go for a flight. The open skies and fresh air offer solace he can’t find anywhere else, and at this hour, he’s unlikely to be spotted by fans. He figures there’s a much higher chance he’ll happen upon a villain lurking in the shadows, but that may work just as well to tire him out, so it’s a risk worth taking when he opts to fly over the shadier parts of town.
He has one earphone in, listening to the Get better music taste playlist Miruko made for him, because she’s apparently tired of his tendency towards trashy pop. He’s not sure hard rock is going to help with the insomnia issue, but neither did lo-fi ambience, so. Whatever.
He’s so busy scrolling through the playlist that he very nearly misses the flash of movement in an alley below. He continues past it for a second, then registers what he saw and circles back. Very rarely does anything good happen in a dark alley in the middle of the night, so he shuts the music off and prepares for a fight.
But when he lands, he isn’t met with the sight of a villain; instead, he finds a hero he’s only heard legends of. An underground hero who works in the cover of shadows, and who almost always works alone. The closest he’s ever come to having a partner was, so Hawks has heard, in the early days of his career when he and Midnight often worked together. Before Midnight was such a recognizable name and she could get away with aiding in underground work.
It’s the yellow goggles around his neck that give his identity away. In his training, Hawks was briefed on every hero who is anyone in Japan—their quirks, their special moves, and any support items they rely on. Eraserhead uses goggles to prevent villains from knowing where he’s looking, because his Quirk can erase any other Quirk with just a single look.
It sounded like something from a horror story, to Hawks, when he first heard of him—the ability to render one’s Quirk completely useless. If Eraserhead were a villain, he could take Hawks out with a glance towards the sky, and Hawks would be helpless to do anything but fall. They’re lucky he’s on the side of the good guys, one of his tutors from the Commission had told him. A villain with a Quirk like that could be near-unstoppable.
Right now, though, Eraserhead does not look particularly scary. He’s attempting to coax a kitten out from garbage bags piled up beside an overflowing dumpster.
Hawks watches him in silence for a moment, assuming he hasn’t been caught. But after a moment, Eraserhead sits back on his heels and says, “You’re scaring her.”
Hawks starts. Eraserhead looks over at him, one eyebrow raised. “I wasn’t aware such a high-ranking hero as yourself would take a nighttime patrol. Don’t they want you in the spotlight as much as possible?”
“Oh, I’m not on patrol. I was just flying around ‘cause I couldn’t sleep and noticed movement down here. Figured I may as well step in if it was a villain, since no one else seemed to be around.” He rocks forward on the balls of his feet, wanting to step closer but also not particularly interested in invoking Eraserhead’s wrath. “I’ve heard about you, you know.”
“Congratulations,” Eraserhead deadpans. “Move back.”
“Huh—?”
Eraserhead resumes his earlier task of attempting to draw the kitten to him. That must be what he was referring to when he accused Hawks of ‘scaring her,’ he realizes, belated. Hawks takes several steps back, though he continues watching Eraserhead. It takes a couple minutes longer, but eventually, the kitten has teetered forward enough that Eraserhead can easily scoop it into his arms. He runs a careful hand over its fur, then stands.
It’s…kind of adorable.
And, actually, when Eraserhead turns to face Hawks once more, he’s a bit shocked to realize that Eraserhead is very attractive. When he glares, Hawks’ throat goes dry. He can hear Miruko laughing at him in the back of his mind, teasing him for having terrible taste and judging him for being into older men. But Miruko isn’t here right now, and it’s three in the morning, and there’s no one watching Hawks at all. Besides Eraserhead. So his impulse control crumbles like feathers beneath a flame.
“You look tense,” he says.
Eraserhead simply stares at him.
Hawks nods, more to himself than anything, and skips closer. His wings ruffle without his consent, and he can only hope Eraserhead either doesn’t notice or just doesn’t care. He comes to a stop directly across from him, leaning into his space and petting the kitten. “I could help with that.”
“The tension, or the kitten?” Eraserhead deadpans. “Either way, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”
Hawks pouts up at him. He’s sort of thrilled to find that Eraserhead has a solid ten centimeters of height on him. “But you haven’t even heard my offer yet!”
“I don’t need to.”
“I’ll have you know, I have very good reviews.” This is mostly a lie—Hawks has slept with a grand total of two people, and one was Miruko, when they were both drunk off their asses. Afterwards, she said, I’d still pick you if I had to date a guy, but I’m never doing that again. And Hawks agreed, because while he does love the chase of someone who is not interested—case in point with his present company—he’s very much not interested in being a dick to his best friend.
“I’m sure you do,” Eraserhead tells him, and then turns away.
For a moment, Hawks is stunned to silence. He lets Eraserhead walk several steps from him before he regains his senses and has to jog to catch up.
“Sooo…” he continues, falling in step beside Eraserhead. “Are you busy?”
“I’m on patrol.”
“What about afterwards?”
“I sincerely hope you’re not intending to stay up until six in the morning.” Eraserhead throws a glance over at him. “You should get some rest. The Number 3 Hero can’t afford to be on anything less than his A-game.”
“Maybe you could tire me out?” Hawks winks.
Eraserhead stops walking. Which means this is either the moment Hawks makes a very bad decision, or it’s the moment when Eraserhead shows just how villainous a hero can be. He has a feeling it’s going to be the latter. Maybe Eraserhead will use that capture weapon on him. That might be the best case scenario, actually—
“Hawks.”
“Yes?”
“I am not interested in sleeping with someone ten years younger than me. Let me do my job, and go home. You need rest.”
Hawks’ breath hitches as Eraserhead turns away. His words have the exact opposite effect of what he’s sure they were meant to—though he doesn’t follow after Eraserhead, because he knows when to cut his losses and retreat with whatever bits of his dignity still remain.
The way he told Hawks, You need rest, settles over him heavily. Eraserhead is not known for showing sympathy—he’s known for being no-nonsense and making decisions based purely on rationality. He does not allow his emotions to get in the way of his work. But he’d said it like—
He’d said it like he was almost concerned for Hawks’ well-being.
It’s the barest scrap of affection, but Hawks has always gorged himself on whatever bare-bones he can find. He’s never known any other way to live.
—
The following evening, Hawks shows up outside of Miruko’s apartment unannounced. She opens the door with an annoyed, “What if I had someone over?”
“You don’t, though,” Hawks points out, because he’s pretty sure he would know if she was seeing someone. She’s not the sort of person who would bother hiding something like that—especially not from her friends. The only other person she invites to her apartment is Ryuukyuu, who could deal with listening to Hawks’ venting for thirty minutes before he got kicked out.
Miruko relents with a sigh, stepping out of the doorway and gesturing for him to come inside. He follows happily, toeing off his shoes and tossing his jacket onto the coat rack. Miruko grumbles another complaint about how he didn’t give her a heads up, snatching a cup and plate from her side table and dumping them into the sink.
Hawks, meanwhile, throws himself onto the couch. “Miruko,” he says, “I’ve met the most attractive man in the entire world.”
She groans.
“I’m serious!”
“You’ve gotta find a friend who is actually into guys,” she tells him, She shoves his feet aside so she can sit on the other end of the couch. “Have you considered telling Jeanist about your dumb crushes instead?”
Hawks pouts. She sticks her tongue out in response.
“You can’t laugh at me.”
Miruko raises an eyebrow. “How many red flags does this guy have? …Do I know him? Is it Jeanist? You know he’s got something weird going on with Edgeshot, right? Not to mention, he’s got, like, twenty years on you.”
Hawks ruffles his feathers. “So? Maybe I’m into older men.”
“You would be.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
Miruko laughs. “Just tell me about this guy.”
Hawks glares at her for a moment longer, just for good measure. But then he remembers why he came here, and his interaction with Eraserhead, and his frown melts away at the memory. He sighs wistfully. “Miruko,” he says, “have you ever met Eraserhead?”
She blinks. “…Eraserhead?”
“Yeah.”
“Eraserhead?” she repeats. “Underground hero Eraserhead? When the hell did you meet him?”
“Last night.” Hawks’ eyes flutter shut as he recalls their meeting. How unimpressed he was with Hawks, and how gentle he was with the kitten, and how he pinned Hawks with a glare that made shivers run down his spine. His wings are rustling instinctively again just thinking about it. If he’s not careful, he’s going to start making those stupid happy bird noises the Commission tried so hard to train out of him. “He’s incredible.”
Miruko barks out a laugh. “And not interested. Eraserhead is the single most unattainable pro in the country. You’d have better luck bagging All Might.”
“I knowww,” Hawks whines. “But Eraserhead is hotter. And funnier to flirt with! He’s so—” he pulls his face in the most stoic expression he can manage and deepens his voice in a poor mimicry of Eraserhead’s, “I have never felt a single emotion in my life. Get out of my sight, lowly scum.”
“No wonder you like him so much,” Miruko teases. “Your favorite pastime is annoying people who want nothing to do with you.”
“Exactly!”
Miruko shakes her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I reiterate my initial question: Have you ever met Eraserhead?”
“Maybe once or twice.” Miruko shrugs. “I’ve heard plenty about him from Midnight, but he’s not my type. And from what I’ve heard,” she leans in closer, “he’s never dated anyone before.”
Hawks’ heart races. “Never?”
“That wasn’t—”
“I’m going to be the first.”
“—a challenge,” Miruko finishes, with a huff and an eye roll. “Hawks, you’re only setting yourself up for disappointment.”
He shakes his head vehemently. “If it doesn’t go anywhere, that’s fine, but I have to try!” If he thought Eraserhead was attractive before, knowing not a single person has managed to break down the walls of stone encasing his heart just makes him that much more desirable. Yes, Hawks has issues—it’s fine.
This is all in good fun, anyway. He gets to see Eraserhead squirm, and maybe he’ll score a one-night stand out of it. And if not, he and Miruko can laugh about the whole ordeal once it’s over and he has an Eraserhead-shaped bruise on his ego.
“You’re going to fall like Icarus,” Miruko warns.
“Nuh-uh. Besides, don’t you want to be able to laugh at me if I do?”
“Laugh at you, or bring you a tub of ice cream to cry into?”
“Miruko…”
She throws her head back, cackling. “Fine, fine,” she relents. “It would be funny if you managed to woo him, and it’ll be funny to me if you fail miserably. So I guess I win either way.”
That’s all the encouragement Hawks needs. He’s so lucky to have a friend like Miruko who will endlessly support him in his terrible ideas, even if she has absolutely no faith in him. And when Hawks eventually inevitably retreats, admitting his defeat, he knows he can count on Miruko to giggle about it with him even as she admonishes him for trying in the first place.
ii.
It is way too easy for Hawks to get permission to visit UA’s campus considering his submitted reasoning was I need to talk to Eraserhead with no further elaboration. He supposes being Number Two has its perks, and he’s certainly not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, which means if he thinks Principal Nezu has an evil glint in his eyes when he gives Hawks his stamp of approval, he’s going to pointedly ignore it. He’s heard horror stories about the man (the rodent??) from his teachers at the Commission, so despite the fact that hawks are probably natural predators of whatever species Nezu is, Hawks is not going to challenge him.
He’s going to thank Nezu politely, and then run before he’s asked any more questions about what, exactly, he needs Eraserhead for.
He pulls the bouquet of flowers from his bag, previously hidden away so as to not raise suspicion, though he wonders now if Nezu’s sense of smell was strong enough to detect them regardless.
Ah, well. It doesn’t matter much.
He’s grateful to see that he was successful in handling the bag carefully enough that the flowers did not get crushed. He has to adjust the positioning a bit before it looks like it did when he first bought it—which had been a whole ordeal in and of itself. Hawks is pretty recognizable regardless of where he goes or what he wears, and given that he was headed to UA’s campus, he figured his hero costume would be most appropriate, so of course the florist who helped him tried to weasel out information about who they were for.
Hawks smiled and did his best to direct the conversation elsewhere. If the media catches wind of rumors that he has a secret girlfriend, that’s no big deal—he’s dealt with that many times before. If he so much as stands in the presence of a woman who might be around his age for more than two minutes, every news outlet takes that as free reign to throw dating accusations at him. So Hawks can offer sly responses that keep fans intrigued yet completely in the dark, and eventually, everyone will forget that he bought flowers at all.
What he can’t do, is put Eraserhead’s name in any sort of spotlight.
Not in public, anyway. But on the campus of UA where everyone is already aware of his identity, he has no issue knocking on the door to his classroom and interrupting his teaching. After all, he’s only ever made friends before by annoying people into it. Plus, Tsukuyomi is in Eraserhead’s class, and Hawks would never pass up an opportunity to embarrass him by saying hi.
Eraserhead slides the door open harshly. “Mic, I thought—” He blinks. “What are you doing here?”
Hawks beams. “I came on very important business!” He pushes himself onto his toes, looking over Eraserhead to the array of students in his classroom. A few of them are whispering to one another, a few others are gaping, and Tsukuyomi is trying to make himself appear as small as possible, face half-hidden by his hands.
“Important business,” Eraserhead repeats, deadpan. His gaze fixes on the flowers. “I dread to think what it might be.”
Hawks’ grin widens. He pushes the bouquet into Eraserhead’s hands with enough force that he actually takes a step back, allowing Hawks fully into the room. “These are for you!”
His class goes dead silent. Tsukuyomi’s feathers are ruffled in mortification. Eraserhead is staring at him, wearing an expression stuck somewhere between surprise and confusion. This might be the funniest thing Hawks has ever done. He definitely needs to do it again—maybe coming in through the window next time? He could buy an even bigger bouquet too, and maybe a cute plushie to go with it…
He’s getting ahead of himself.
After a moment, Eraserhead’s face morphs back into its typical scowl. Which, while lowkey terrifying, is also highkey hot. Hawks shifts awkwardly beneath the weight of it, fear mixing with arousal in the pit of his stomach. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.
Eraserhead sighs tiredly. “Hawks, I’m working.” He turns, depositing the flowers directly into the trash can.
Hawks gasps in over-exaggerated mock offense. “Eraser—!”
“I am working,” he repeats. “Can you find any other time to bother me?”
Hawks’ wings flutter. “So does that mean—”
“No.”
“—if I bring more flowers after school—”
“No. Get out of my classroom.”
Hawks deflates. “Fine, fine, I’m going.” He scans the room again, eyes easily finding Tsukuyomi. “Bye, Tsukuyomi!” he calls out, and then rushes away before he can send Dark Shadow after him or something. He slides the door shut, chest bursting with glee as he stifles his laughter. He leans against the wall, giggling silently to himself as he pulls out his phone to text Miruko.
From inside the classroom, he hears Eraserhead’s students erupt into chatter:
“Why did Hawks-san come to see you?”
“Where those flowers?”
“Sensei, are you and Hawks-san dating?!!!”
“No way in hell—”
“Shinsou-kun, do you know—?”
“Quiet,” Eraserhead’s voice breaks through the noise. “The next person to ask a question will be responsible for you all receiving triple the amount of homework for the next two weeks.”
His students fall silent at that, and Hawks can’t make out any more of what Eraserhead says, but he’s plenty satisfied with how this turned out. Even if the flowers ended up in the trash, he can’t count the money spent as a waste. Especially not when he knows the high he’s riding right now will fuel him for weeks to come.
And it’s only encouraging him to continue on this quest to either convince Eraserhead to go out with him, or hook up with him—whichever comes first.
iii.
As the Number 2 Hero, Hawks has interacted with many different types of fans. From the obsessive stalkers to the shiest children to those who try to mask their excitement with indifference and distaste—he’s seen it all. He’s had plenty of good experiences, and he’s had plenty of bad ones, but this might be the fan experience that will stick with him most.
It might actually be the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him.
Hawks and Miruko just took down a petty thief, and with the villain quickly taken into custody by law enforcement, it’s no surprise they both found themselves taking pictures and signing autographs. He’s about to call it quits, citing some vague ‘important hero business’ just to get himself and Miruko out of there, when a small girl with silvery hair and pale skin approaches him. Most of the crowd has dissipated by this point, so it’s very clear she has her sights set on Hawks.
The great part is that she’s clinging tightly to the hand of none other than Eraserhead.
Hawks knew he had a kid—or, that he took over guardianship of the girl who was rescued from the Shie Hassaikai—but he didn’t realize just how tiny and adorable the kid was. Nor did he realize that Eraser taking care of a kid would make him even more attractive. Does Hawks have a thing for DILFs?
He might now.
He smiles at the girl. “Hey, kid! You want an autograph or a picture?”
Her eyes widen in fear, and she looks up to Eraser with eyebrows raised, like she isn’t sure what to say. Or she’s asking permission to accept Hawks’ offer, even though he can’t imagine she wanted to see him for any other reason. And as much as he wishes otherwise, he’s fairly certain it wasn’t Eraser’s idea to come talk to him. Not in broad daylight, at least.
Hawks looks to Eraser as well, because he’s never going to turn down an excuse to stare longingly at such a handsome face. But that’s when he notices Eraser’s other kid—Shinsou, the one who has been staying with him ever since they were removed from an unfortunate foster family situation or something. They’re glaring at him with such intensity Hawks is surprised they haven’t managed to kill him with their mind.
He quickly shifts his gaze back to Eraser.
“Go ahead, Eri-chan,” he tells the girl, voice softer than Hawks can ever recall hearing it before.
“Aww,” he coos, unable to help himself. “Fatherhood looks good on you, Eraser~”
“Don’t call me that,” he growls.
Hawks raises his hands in defense, pulling his best innocent expression—pretending he didn’t drop the hero name on purpose just to rile him up.
(What? He’s hot when he’s mad.)
Eri lets go of Eraser’s hand to pull a notebook from her bag. She flips through it for a moment, then hands it to Hawks. “You can sign next to Tsukuyomi’s name,” she tells him.
Hawks gasps as he takes the notebook. “I’m honored!” he exclaims. “There’s no one else I’d rather share a page with. Except maybe your dad.”
Eri frowns. “I don’t have a dad…?”
“I meant your—” Hawks gestures vaguely to Eraser with the pen in his hand. He looks torn between being amused and absolutely mortified. It’s a good look on him, but then again, everything is a good look on Eraser. “Um. Legal guardian.”
Eri’s frown deepens.
Hawks diverts his attention to signing her notebook.
He takes his time with it, making sure his name is actually legible and the wings on either side look like wings instead of random scribbles. The bright red ink contrasts with the black of Tsukuyomi’s signature—and Dark Shadow’s too, it looks like? How cute; Hawks will have to ask about that the next time he sees them.
“There you go!” Hawks hands Eri the notebook back with a gleaming smile. “Did you want a picture too?”
Eri shakes her head quickly, clutching her notebook tightly to her chest. “No thank you, Hawks-san.”
“Hey, that’s cool,” he assures her. He’s met plenty of fans who don’t want a photo for whatever reason; it’s no sweat off his back. Besides, if Eri got everything she wanted, that means Hawks can freely turn his attention to Eraser.
“What about you, handsome?” He sidles up to Eraser, smile turning cheeky. “A picture for the road?”
Eraser takes a step away from him. “I’d rather not.”
Hawks pouts. “What if I want a picture with the legendary—”
“Hawks…”
“—Aizawa-sensei?” he finishes. He leans in close, wings and eyelashes fluttering. “Won’t you grant a wish from a fan?”
“Oh my God,” Shinsou interrupts. When Hawks glances over at them, he finds they’ve stepped in to cover Eri’s eyes. “I’m going to walk into oncoming traffic. I think I’d actually prefer being attacked by the League of Villains over having to witness this.”
Eraser raises an eyebrow. Shinsou does not rescind their statement.
“Aw, don’t be like that, Shinsou-kun,” Hawks chides. “Your dad and I are just having a little chat between old friends.”
“He’s not my dad either.”
“We’re not friends,” Eraser says firmly. “Certainly not old friends. You’re twenty.”
“I’m twenty-three!”
“Same difference.” Eraser looks Hawks over. Coming from anyone else, that might be a sign of attraction, but Eraser maintains an expression of vague distaste the entire time. “Do you make a habit of risking the identities of underground heroes, or is it just me you have a strange fascination with?”
“Just you,” Hawks promises with a wink.
Unfortunately, Eraser has a point—if he spends too long talking to anyone who isn’t a known hero where civilians can see, he risks some crazy fan doing a deep-dive into his conversation partner. Which is something Eraser can’t afford. “But I guess I’d better leave you for now. Until we meet again, Dad-sensei!”
Eraser purses his lips. Hawks will pretend he’s suppressing a laugh, though he could never be foolish enough to believe Eraser finds him funny—he can’t imagine the man finding humor in anything. Which, regretfully, is part of his charm. Hawks loves a guy who plays hard to get, and he’s even more attracted when the object of his affections isn’t really playing but is, in fact, genuinely annoyed by his antics.
“I’ll see you around, Hawks,” Eraser replies.
“Is that a promise?”
“It’s a resignation.”
“I’ll take it!”
“Goodbye,” Eraser tells him pointedly.
Hawks takes his cue to leave, bidding one last farewell to Eraser and both of his kids—despite the fact that Shinsou is still trying to kill him via their murderous thoughts—before prancing off to join Miruko. As she finishes taking a picture with some fans, Hawks drapes himself over her shoulder, hoping his touchiness with her will serve to attract more attention than his time spent talking with Eraser.
His heart is still fluttering in his chest, though. Because Eraser may have called it resignation, but if he truly wanted Hawks to stop bothering him, he has more than enough power to force the matter. Which means Hawks may yet be able to break through the walls of ice and stone encasing his heart.
iv.
Hawks figures, if he wants to get on Eraser’s good side, he needs to win the hearts of his kids.
Eri seems to like him well enough already—she did want his autograph, after all. And Eraser going out of his way to risk approaching the Number 2 Hero in broad daylight for her sake proves Hawks’ theory that he values his kids above all else. Unfortunately, having Eri’s favor is clearly not enough.
What he needs is for Shinsou to like him. Or, at the very least, not hate his guts. If he can get Shinsou to soften up to him, even a little bit, he figures Eraser will be far more likely to do the same.
There’s no point trying to talk with Shinsou during the week, with all of the schoolwork and training UA students have to go through, so he waits until a nice, pleasant Saturday. He may or may not have asked Tsukuyomi for inside information on whether or not Shinsou had any weekend plans, and he may or may not have ended up bribing Dark Shadow into spilling what she knew, but that’s not important. What’s important is that he successfully manages to bump into Shinsou while they’re out with a couple of friends from school.
As soon as Shinsou spots him, they duck behind Kaminari, hissing at him and Jirou to hide them from Hawks.
“What?” Kaminari asks. “Why?”
“I don’t want to talk to him! He’s going to ask me for Aizawa-sensei’s number or something.”
Jirou snorts. “Imagine your dad starts dating a twenty-three-year-old.”
“I don’t want to imagine that!” Shinsou says, despairingly. “Can you just hide me?!”
Unfortunately for them, Hawks has already set sights on his prey and he doesn’t intend to let them slip away now. He has a mission to complete.
He lands gracefully before the group, then tucks his wings against his back and plasters a blinding smile across his face. Shinsou groans.
“Hi, Hawks-san!” Kaminari greets. “Tokoyami-kun isn’t out with us today, if that’s who you’re looking for.”
“Actually, I was hoping to talk to Shinsou-kun.” Hawks leans over, peeking at Shinsou, where they’re standing behind Kaminari and Jirou. Jirou helpfully steps out of the way, and Shinsou shoots a scathing glare at her before turning their gaze to Hawks.
“What do you want,” they deadpan.
“Can’t I just say hi to my second favorite UA student?”
Shinsou raises an eyebrow.
“Wow, what an honor!” Kaminari exclaims, slinging an arm over Shinsou’s shoulders. “Did you hear that? You’re his second favorite!”
Shinsou shoves Kaminari off of them. “You’re both traitors,” they tell their friends. To Hawks, they say, “Get to the point.”
“I was just looking for some advice,” Hawks starts. He steps into the empty space left beside Shinsou now that Kaminari has been forced away and throws his arm over Shinsou’s shoulders instead, steering them a few steps away from the others. “You’re a smart kid, and you seem to know Eraserhead well. What sort of things does he like?”
“I don’t know.”
“His favorite food?” Hawks prompts. “What he likes to do in his free time? What he looks for in a partner? What sort of flirting he’s most responsive too?”
“I hope you die,” Shinsou tells him sincerely.
Ouch.
“Alright, alright,” Hawks concedes, raising his hands in defense. Shinsou takes the opportunity to put some distance between them. “Different question: What sort of things do you like?”
“So you can bribe me into giving you information?” Shinsou shoots back. They cross their arms. “If you’re so desperate to get with my dad, figure out how to do it yourself. Good fucking luck, and just know I’m never going to give you my blessing.”
They turn on their heel, face flushed red as they march back to Kaminari and Jirou, who are snickering. “Fuck both of you,” they say before grabbing hold of their arms and dragging them away. Hawks watches them go with a defeated sigh, fully aware he’s pushed Shinsou as far as he can manage without sabotaging any chance he might have with Eraser for the rest of forever.
He sulks away in the opposite direction, mulling the conversation over in his mind, trying to locate any holes in Shinsou’s iron-clad resolve to detest him that he could take advantage of. Maybe if he gets Kaminari and Jirou on his side…?
He doesn’t get much deeper in thought than that, because he’s traveled no more than four meters when Eraser himself appears in front of him, looking highly unamused. Hawks stops short, half-convinced he’s hallucinating. Either that, or this is some villain with a shapeshifting quirk.
“Why were you talking to my kid?” Eraser demands, and, okay, that’s definitely him.
“Um,” Hawks says eloquently. Eraser has one hand on his capture scarf, like he’s ready to force answers out of Hawks if he won’t freely give them up. It’s not exactly an unappealing thought—actually, Hawks thinks he’d rather enjoy being tied up by Eraser—
That’s not the point.
“Why were you watching your kid?” he hears himself reply, because apparently he has no sense of self-preservation when it comes to Eraser.
Eraser doesn’t answer.
“Do they know you’re here?” Hawks continues, something akin to giddiness bubbling up in his chest. Even if he gets his ass kicked for this, it’ll be worth it just to feel Eraser’s hands on him. Or his scarf around him. Whichever. “Are you spying?” Hawks mock-gasps, placing a hand over his chest. “Eraser! How could you?!”
“I thought I told you not to call me that in public?” he grumbles, without much heat.
“Oh?” Hawks steps closer, grinning. “What should I call you, then?”
“Perhaps my name?”
“Well, if you insist…” Hawks’ wings flutter. “What brings you out here today, Aizawa-san? What trouble is your kid getting up to that you have to supervise from afar?”
Aizawa sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not getting rid of you, am I?”
“Nope!”
He rolls his eyes. “Shinsou-kun is on a date. And I am not particularly fond of them dating not one, but two problem children from my hell class.”
“A date?!” Hawks exclaims, rocking forward on the balls of his feet. Oh, this is even better than he expected! Shinsou wasn’t just out with two of their classmates; they were with their partners—
“Wait.” Hawks frowns. “Is Shinsou-kun not also part of your hell class?”
“They don’t count.” Aizawa waves the question aside.
“Sounds like you’re playing favorites.”
“I do no such thing.”
Hawks hums. “Whatever you say. So—” he moves, putting himself at Aizawa’s side instead of standing across from him, “—are we following after them?”
“We are not doing anything.”
“Awww, but please?” Hawks pouts. “I’m great at surveillance! Did you know a hawk’s vision is up to eight times better than a human’s? I’ll be able to see all the little details you can’t while keeping enough distance that Shinsou-kun will never spot us!”
Aizawa glares.
Hawks grins wider, pulling his best expression of innocence.
“Fine,” Aizawa relents.
“Wait, really?”
“If you cause us to be caught, I will never speak to you again.”
Hawks mimes zipping his lips. He wasn’t expecting to get this far, but now that he has, he certainly won’t risk jeopardizing his success. He’ll treat this with just as much dedication and diligence as he would any surveillance assignment from the Commission. “You can count on me!”
“Then let’s go,” Aizawa says gruffly.
—
Working with Aizawa proves to be an even more enjoyable experience than Hawks expected. His plan was to push his buttons a bit more before inevitably being told to shut up so Shinsou wouldn’t hear him, and then proceeding to annoy Aizawa silently in whatever way possible. It’s the only way he knows how to attract someone’s attention—bothering them until they decide they can tolerate his presence.
But he finds himself far more enraptured by watching Aizawa than he’d expected.
He’s focused with the same intensity as Hawks would expect from him while doing hero work, but there’s an obvious softness to it that can only be explained by his care for Shinsou. He said he doesn’t trust the students from his class to date the kid he’s adopted taken temporary legal guardianship of, but Hawks sort of gets the feeling that that wasn’t the entire truth.
He gets the feeling Aizawa cares for Jirou and Kaminari too. Maybe not as much as he does Shinsou, but certainly more than he let on.
They’re perched on a rooftop at the moment, watching Shinsou and their partners through the large glass windows of a café across the street. Or, Aizawa is watching Shinsou and their partners.
Hawks is mostly just watching Aizawa.
The furrow of his brow, the vague frown pulling at his lips, the way the wind ruffles his hair. It’s mesmerizing.
Hawks needs to stop.
He pokes Aizawa’s shoulder. When he gets no response, he tries again, paired with a whispered, “Hey. Aizawa-san.”
He nudges Hawks’ hand away without so much as flicking his gaze in Hawks’ direction. “I thought you agreed to be quiet?”
“I agreed I wouldn’t get us caught,” Hawks argues. “They’re not going to hear us from inside.”
Aizawa rolls his eyes.
Hawks pokes him again. “I have a question.”
“What?”
“Are you busy after this?”
Silence. Hawks is briefly afraid he may have pushed too far without realizing it, which would really suck, because he honestly enjoys this back-and-forth with Aizawa. But whatever, it’s not like he actually expected this to go anywhere, so maybe it’s better if he just cuts his losses—
Aizawa turns to look at him full-on, an incredulous expression on his face. “Are you seriously asking me out right now?”
All Hawks can offer in response is a goofy grin.
“You’re insufferable,” Aizawa grumbles as he re-focuses his gaze on the café.
Hawks ruffles his feathers. Smugly, he replies, “And yet here you are, suffering me.”
He’s half-expecting Aizawa to just straight up throw him off the roof for that, spy mission be damned. He’d deserve it too, probably—it’s surprising that it’s taken Aizawa this long to put his foot down and get Hawks off his back for good.
Instead, Aizawa’s lips twitch up in the barest hints of a smile. “I suppose I am.”
And Hawks thinks:
Fuck.
v.
So the thing is, Hawks wasn’t planning to get attached.
It was supposed to be a joke. It was supposed to be funny. It was supposed to be something he could laugh with Miruko about, and if he ever actually succeeded, get a lay that would give him unimaginable bragging rights in the Pro Hero community for the rest of his life. It wasn’t supposed to be, like, a serious thing. Hawks doesn’t do serious things. He does stupid things that he knows he’ll regret in the morning.
Well.
He is already fucking regretting this and it’s not morning yet.
After this afternoon’s adventure spying on Shinsou’s date, he went straight to Miruko’s apartment. Before she’d done more than crack the door open, he pushed his way in and announced, “I’m so fucked!”
At which point, of course, he had to deliver the unfortunate news that he realized he actually likes Aizawa.
And Miruko laughed at him, like the traitor she is. Did the whole “I told you it was a bad idea” spiel, ridiculed him for his taste, told him he’s a lost cause, and then agreed to get black-out drunk with him. When she suggested it, it sounded like the best idea Hawks had ever heard in his life—go out to a bar, drown his sorrows in cheap alcohol, gossip with Miruko, forget why he went out in the first place, and wake up with a hangover so bad any lingering feelings he may have for Aizawa would seem irrelevant.
It was working great, right up until Midnight and Present Mic strolled into the building, with none other than Aizawa himself in tow.
“Holy shit,” Miruko giggles in his ear. “You might have the worst luck out of everyone on earth.”
Hawks groans, burying his face in his hands.
“Miruko!” Midnight calls, waving an arm in the air. She’s already stumbling slightly as she makes her way over to their table, so Hawks figures they must have pregamed before coming here. He watches Mic and Aizawa hesitate, then have a brief silent argument before Mic ultimately drags Aizawa towards them as well.
Fuckkkk…
Hawks is so screwed. And not the fun kind!!
Mic greets them in much the same manner as Midnight—with exaggerated waving and a boisterous hello. Aizawa, meanwhile, simply nods and gives a polite, “Miruko. Hawks.”
“Heya, guys!” Miruko grins. “You wanna sit down? We can totally pull up some more chairs!”
Hawks gives her a stink eye that goes ignored while Midnight gushes about just how great of an idea that is, and how she hasn’t talked with either of them in ages. She shoves Mic away to go drag a couple more chairs over to their table, then drapes herself over Miruko’s shoulders and purrs something Hawks cannot and doesn’t want to hear in her ear.
He looks at Aizawa instead. “Sup.”
Aizawa sighs deeply. He shoots a forlorn glance towards Mic, who gestures for him to stay where he is, and his expression only sinks further into despair at that.
“So.” Hawks rests his chin in his hands, fluttering his eyelashes up at Aizawa, because if he’s already here, he might as well make the best of it. He can worry about smothering his feelings some other time, when the most gorgeous man in the world isn’t right beside him. “Looks like you rejected me earlier because you did have plans tonight. But what about tomorrow?”
“I didn’t,” Aizawa corrects.
Hawks raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t reject me?” He places a hand over his chest. “Wow, I guess I shouldn’t have assumed—”
“Didn’t have plans.” Aizawa shakes his head. “Nemuri and Hizashi ambushed me an hour ago. I was hoping for a nice evening in.”
“I coulda made it nicer.” Hawks winks. Aizawa purses his lips.
At that point, Mic returns with his chairs. Midnight made herself comfortable in Miruko’s lap while Hawks wasn’t looking, and Miruko is now playing into it, letting Midnight press her glass to her lips and slowly trickle the liquid into Miruko’s mouth. Hawks wants to judge, but he’s mostly just jealous because why can’t Aizawa do that to him?? This is so unfair.
Midnight takes a sip of Miruko’s drink, then says, “Mic, honey, could you get us another one of these?” In a flash, she’s slipped her card from her phone case and pressed it into his hand. Even he looks baffled about how she managed such a smooth move while clearly tipsy. “And whatever the two of you want,” she finishes, with a vague hand gesture.
Mic just looks at her for a second, but she’s already whispering in Miruko’s ear again, making the flush in Miruko’s cheeks darken in a way Hawks knows isn’t just from the alcohol. Fuck both of them for real.
“Hizashi—” Aizawa mumbles darkly.
“I’ll go get drinks!” he interrupts, and then rushes away.
Hawks honestly has no idea what the fuck is going on here. The entire vibe of his night has been so drastically shifted in the past two minutes, and he’s sort of at a complete loss for what to do. So he falls back on what’s familiar, plastering a teasing smirk across his face and leaning into Aizawa’s space.
He tries not to be too pleased when Aizawa doesn’t immediately back away.
“You come here often?”
“Hawks…”
“Whaaat? I’m just trying to make conversation! ‘s there somethin’ else you’d like to talk about, Sensei? Your kids been giving you any trouble?” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “Did Shinsou figure out you were watching their date~?”
Aizawa pushes him back. “You were there too,” he hisses. “And no. They did not. It’s a damn good thing too, because then I’d have to answer probing questions about why I let you tag along.”
“Why did you let me tag along?” Hawks asks. It sounds strikingly serious, in a way he hadn’t intended. He already knows the answer—Aizawa is just humoring him, because under all that stone-cold bravado, he has a soft heart. That’s what makes him such a good teacher, and such a reliable hero.
Aizawa scoffs, looking away. “You wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“Aww, I resent that! Can’t you just admit you like hanging out with me?” Hawks pouts at him. When Aizawa only glares back, expression unwavering, Hawks throws himself back in his chair, pressing his hand against his forehead. “You’re so cruel!” he wails.
Aizawa merely hums in agreement. He might look vaguely amused, at least, but that might also be the alcohol messing with Hawks’ vision and letting him see what he wants to see rather than the actual truth. There’s probably not really any humored glint in Aizawa’s eyes; he has no reason to be entertained by Hawks’ antics.
Mic returns then, with three glasses balanced in his arms. He winks at Aizawa as he sets them down on the table, and the fact that Aizawa doesn’t respond kindly to him either makes Hawks feel a bit better about himself. And then he immediately chides himself for it, because that’s the kind of thinking that is only going to cause problems in the long run. As if he hasn’t caused enough problems for himself already.
Mic strikes up a conversation with Hawks, allowing Aizawa to alternate between sipping his drink and pretending to be asleep. Hawks does his best to focus on talking instead of the knowledge that Aizawa is seated beside him, too close because this table was not meant to sit five people. Their legs are millimeters away from brushing at any given moment, and Hawks wants nothing more than to spend the evening openly ogling the man beside him, but he’s trying to be good and get over himself.
It doesn’t help that he keeps feeling as if Aizawa is looking at him.
Every so often, the back of his neck pricks and his feathers instinctively ruffle in the way that lets him know he’s being watched. But whenever he does chance a glance at Aizawa, he doesn’t find the man’s dark gaze pinned to him like he’d been hoping expecting.
Maybe it’s just the alcohol. Or maybe Hawks is going crazy. Or maybe there’s some villain hiding out here, and they have their sights set on Hawks, waiting for the right moment to pounce—
Okay, it’s…probably not that.
Aizawa is probably just trying to figure him out, or something. Like a logic puzzle. Except, Hawks does not want Aizawa to figure him out right now, because he does not want Aizawa to realize somewhere along the way, his advances turned into something serious rather than just a fun way to pass the time and get a hot guy to roll his eyes at him.
The thought of Aizawa figuring him out startles Hawks so deeply that he’s on his feet before he even realizes what’s happening.
“What—?” Miruko starts.
“Bathroom,” Hawks says, making an aborted gesture towards where he’s pretty sure the bathrooms are. He stumbles away, cursing his current lack of coordination. It’s hard enough to keep his wings pressed tightly to his back so he doesn’t knock into anything; he can’t quite manage that and making sure his feet are working right.
Thankfully, the restroom is empty.
He takes the opportunity to splash some cold water in his face, attempting to sober himself up. The smartest thing would, in all honestly, be for him to make some excuse to leave. He won’t make Miruko come with him—she’s clearly soaking up the attention from Midnight, and Hawks isn’t mean enough to get in the way of whatever might be going on there. He’ll just say he’s feeling sick, or that he got a call from the Commission, or something.
Yeah. That should work.
Then he can go home and, most importantly, get away from Aizawa.
He runs a hand through his hair, checking his reflection in the mirror. His cheeks are slightly flushed, and he’s still having trouble focusing his vision, but he’s totally fine.
Unfortunately, his plan falls through when he returns to the table only to find Miruko, Midnight, and Mic have all disappeared.
He blinks, looking around, to make sure he’s not just seeing things. When they don’t re-appear, and Hawks can’t locate them under the table or anywhere nearby, he asks Aizawa carefully, “…Where’d they go?”
Aizawa shrugs. “I wasn’t listening.”
“Oh.” Hawks hesitates. He was going to leave. He was going to claim the Commission contacted him, saying they need him in early for a job tomorrow, so he’d better head out and get some rest. The words are on the tip of his tongue, perfectly prepared so there’s no chance anyone would catch him out on his lie.
He sits back down instead.
Aizawa raises an eyebrow. “You’re not going to look for them?”
“Nah.” He smirks. “I’ve got much better company right here.”
“Right,” Aizawa drawls. He drains the rest of his drink, then swaps it out for the remainder of whatever Mic ordered. “I’m sure I’m very entertaining.”
“Hey, don’t sell yourself short! Besides,” Hawks settles his chin in his hands, grinning up at Aizawa, “you’re nice to just look at.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“Not much to understand,” Hawks says. It’s a half-truth, really—there’s plenty about him to pick apart and study, but Aizawa will never find anything worth his time. “I just think you’re hot.”
Aizawa hums. He takes a slow sip from Mic’s glass. “And I suppose this is the part where you ask if I’d like to leave with you?”
“Would you?”
(It’s too genuine again—too sincere, too vulnerable. Hawks’ breath catches in his throat as soon as the words have fallen from his lips. His heart hammers painfully against his ribcage, and he knows—he knows—that this is when Aizawa finally puts his foot down, tells him No, and sends him away for good.)
(Silence stretches between them for an eternity. Hawks can hear neither the chatter around them nor the music playing from the bar speakers over the blood pounding in his ears.)
“Hawks,” Aizawa says, stilted but not unkind. He hesitates, lips pressing together in a thin line.
Hawks might die. He’s so light-headed. He’s going to pass out. He’s going to die.
“You should go home,” Aizawa tells him, finally, voice soft. “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
“Oh,” Hawks replies, without thinking. He laughs afterwards, for good measure, to throw Aizawa off, to make himself sound more drunk than he is, whatever. Fuck! He can still salvage this. Can he still salvage this? Sure he can—he’s the Number 2 Hero; he can do anything! “You’re so considerate, Sensei,” he teases. “But I don’t mind—”
“Hawks,” Aizawa interrupts, harsher this time. “I’m not entertaining this right now.”
“Right now?”
“While you’re…” he gestures vaguely, “in this state. Either go have fun with the others, or get some rest.”
It’s the worst thing Aizawa could have said, really—because it’s the kindest thing he could say. He isn’t shutting Hawks down permanently, even though he has every right to. He’s still willing to put up with Hawks’ annoyances, so long as this one boundary isn’t crossed. He’s too nice, which is funny, because before Hawks met him, he imagined Eraserhead to be the epitome of stone-cold and carefully cruel; like an icy January wind.
But he’s so kind. He’s caring, and compassionate, and Hawks likes him so much that he sort of wants to cry.
Instead, he reaches for his glass and downs the rest of it in one go. Aizawa studies him curiously, so Hawks winks as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sure you don’t want to join me on the dance floor?”
“I’ll pass.”
“Suit yourself!”
And then, Hawks runs.
+ i.
Shouta doesn’t know what to think of Hawks.
Given their strikingly different personalities and approach to hero work, he hadn’t imagined they’d ever have reason to interact outside of potential large-scale attacks against villain groups—let alone that they would get along. Hawks is obnoxious, arrogant, immature, and yet somehow has the entire world wrapped around his finger in the way Shouta imagines All Might must have when he first began climbing the hero charts. He’s the heartthrob of the country, every magazine’s Sexiest Man of the Year, the picture-perfect face to symbolize the hero community in the wake of All Might’s retirement.
And, for some reason, he’s chosen to imprint on Shouta.
He thought it was a joke, at first. But the more time he spends around Hawks, the more he begins to realize that the man beneath the HAWKS persona is not the Number 2 Hero who flashes a blinding grin to the cameras and is toted around as the epitome of heroism.
He’s still an annoying asshole, though, so Shouta really shouldn’t be surprised when he returns to the teachers’ dorms after class to find Hawks seated on the floor, surrounded by sparkly hairclips, ribbons, and plastic jewelry, while Eri painstakingly fills his hair with even more clips. Her own hair has been decorated as well, and Shouta notices belatedly that they both have bright stickers on their cheeks.
Neither of the two have noticed him yet, so he shuts the door quietly before turning his gaze back to them. Eri is smiling as she works, and Hawks is chattering about some villain he took down, peppering in jokes and impressions that actually have Eri giggling. She’s clearly relaxed, too—in the same way she is when she interacts with the Big Three or Mic and Midnight.
Shouta swallows thickly, trying to will away the strange sensation bubbling up in his chest. It reminds him of the night Mic and Midnight dragged him out to that bar, only for them to run into Hawks and Miruko—and earlier in the day before that, when Hawks had joined him to supervise Shinsou’s date. But it’s compounded in intensity now, so much so that it’s beginning to throw Shouta off-kilter.
Eri sees him, then, and her face lights up.
“Aizawa-san!” she exclaims. “Look, look! Mic-san had to go, so Hawks-san let me do his hair!”
Shouta huffs out a laugh. “It’s very nice.”
“Isn’t it?” Hawks agrees. “I’m thinking this should be my new go-to look. What d’you think, Eraser?” He puts a hand under his chin, looking up at him with fluttering eyelashes, in what Shouta has to assume is an attempt at being cute.
Shouta isn’t falling for it.
“Why are you here, Hawks?”
He deflates momentarily, then settles back and lets Eri finish up with the last few clips she’d picked out for him. “I just wanted to stop by and say hi! I didn’t know you had plans.” He shrugs. “It worked out anyway; like Eri-chan said, Present Mic had to take care of something, so I was able to take over babysitting duty. A couple of your students are supposed to pick her up soon, but they were finishing up with their training for the day first.”
“Deku-kun said they’re having a movie night, so they invited me, and Mic-san said I can go!”
Eri’s declaration of her plans for the evening hardly even registers in Shouta’s mind. He’s more caught up on the fact that—
Hawks just stayed. And Eri didn’t mind.
Eri snaps the final clip into place, and then Hawks turns to face her so she can look him over. He lets her grab his face in both hands, tilting his head to the left and then the right as she squints like she’s trying to emulate the way Nemuri acts after doing someone’s makeup. After several moments of deliberation, she declares, “All done! Now we need to get pictures!”
Hawks grins. “Whatever you’d like,” he agrees.
And there’s something about it—the way Hawks is interacting with Eri, the way he’s treating her with such kindness and little regard for whether or not Shouta is even watching him, the way he was willing to do all of this even when he didn’t know whether or not Shouta would be back before Eri left—
The feeling from before bowls over him with full force now, the swell in his chest and warmth spreading through his veins. The dread paired with a sense of thrill. It’s not something Shouta has ever been familiar with, and he’s still not sure it’s the same as whatever Hawks feels for him, but he is certain that in some way, despite all his best efforts, he has come to like Hawks.
Shit.
—
It isn’t long before Midoriya and Todoroki come by to pick up Eri, taking her back to the Class A dorms for movie night. Hawks hides in the bathroom chooses to start de-dazzling himself as soon as the two arrive, so Shouta sends Eri off alone. Once she’s on her way, he finds himself wandering back to Hawks and planting himself in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
Hawks was forward about his attraction to Shouta from the beginning, but it was clearly nothing more than shallow surface-level musings on Shouta’s appearance. It held no more weight than any of the times Nemuri has flirted with him just to see his reaction. So, of course Shouta rejected him. He’s never been interested in hook-ups or one-night-stands; he’s hardly interested in relationships as a concept at all.
Alas.
He came to the unfortunate realization that it was no longer a joke for Hawks when the guy was drunkenly pouting at him and very visibly trying not to cry over nothing. Quite honestly, the Number 2 Hero should be better at handling himself in public than that, but Shouta supposes he can’t judge too harshly considering, somewhere along the way, it ceased to be a joke for him as well.
He clears his throat, and Hawks glances in his direction, hands temporarily pausing in mid-air.
“Oh! Are they gone now? I’ll be done in a minute, and then I’ll g—”
“Are you free tonight?” Shouta interrupts.
“Um.” Hawks blinks at him through the mirror. “…What?”
“Are you free tonight?” Shouta repeats. “As Eri is with my students, I no longer have any plans. Since you came all the way here to bother me, I assume you must be in the same boat?”
Hawks gapes. Seeing him speechless is nice, Shouta thinks. It offers him a moment of peace. Perhaps he should have attempted this sooner, if only to successfully force Hawks to shut up for once.
The moment is over quickly, though, with Hawks breaking into a giddy grin as he turns to fully face him. “Are you seriously asking me out right now, Eraser? When I’m all sparkly and pretty? Is that what you’re into? I thought only birds liked shiny things, but man, if I’d known the whole time that this was all it would take—”
“Stop talking, or else I’ll change my mind,” Shouta threatens.
Hawks steps closer, gaze darting to Shouta’s mouth. “Make me.”
And how is Shouta meant to respond to that apart from pulling him into a bruising kiss?