Spicy Hotwings

All light fun? ×

        The number two hero slumped back on his couch. His boney fingers running through his freshly showered hair. His feet up on the coffee table. His crimson wings folded flat against his back.

        "What a day," he spoke as he wrote out a status on his social media page. And the next hour of relaxing, he spent it on his sponsors. Giving shout outs. And replying back to fans. He even had a few flirty direct messages, as well.

        He bit his lip, opening a few. He didn't even have to ask for nudes. He even had a guy messaging him for wing pics every so often. He wouldn't respond to all of them. All though, it was amusing.

      Hawks did heart react to selfies that fans would post of them together. It was always a thrill to be noticed by someone you admire. By a model. By a singer. An artist. A pro hero. Shit, even a villain. Some girls really had it had bad for a certain someone.

        Unfortunately, the infamous Dabi didn't have a social media. No one could get a hold of him or contact him. Unless you worked with the bastard. Fans, even people who feared Dabi take quick shots of him when he's spotted around the city. Hawks had to laugh, they were awful blurry photos most of the time. This one was posted by a stalker fan an hour ago.

        "Hey, cutie." Hawks jokingly texted the pyro. He knew he wouldn't get a response, though. He rarely ever did, unless they were working together. "Drinking without me? :((" He added, hitting send.

        He walked lazily to his bed, setting his phone on the charger. Plopping himself down and getting cozy under the sheets. And before he could close his eyes, his phone lit up.

        Golden eyes stared for a minute, who messaged him back. He blinked a couple times before checking the message.

       "Lol."

       Laugh out loud? Was that really Dabi's response? Hawks let out a light chuckle. Dabi was probably drunk. It sent a couple butterflies to his stomach. The thought that not many had this privilege to just harass Dabi over text messaging.

       The next thing he knew, his alarm went off. Hawks sat up right, eyes wide. Hair a mess. Shit, he felt like a mess. He didn't remember falling asleep last night, but he sure remembered the dream he had.

       He grabbed at his phone, silencing the alarm. He sighed heavily bringing his knees up to his chest and hiding his burning face. He was never going to speak of this, ever.

        "It's just a dream." Hawks spoke to himself. Repeating it three times over. He grumbled, he wasn't into dudes. Burnt crispy dudes. No. Not his type. Definitely not. He was flirting with the guy way too much, it seemed. It was just all light fun. He needed some water.

        Hawks quickly rolled out of bed to start his morning routine:  washing his face. Brushing his teeth. Did his hair. Deodorant. Fresh set of clothes. Aaand cracking open his first coffee of the day. Yes, he felt like himself, again. No weird shit today.

       He slid open the door to his balcony, taking in a breath full of fresh air. The dark morning sky painting itself pink on the horizon. He slid the door closed. Rolling his shoulders back, his wings unfolding. He flipped his vizor down. His gloved fingers grabbed ahold of the railing before taking a leap off the edge. His wings catching air, bringing him higher above the city.