Flufftober

Hands

The sun was setting, painting the sky with soft hues of orange, pink, and purple. The faint sound of city noise buzzed in the background, but up on the rooftop of a nearly abandoned building, it was just the two of them—Dabi and Hawks, lost in their little world.

They were sitting side by side, backs against the cool, crumbling wall, with Hawks' wings draped lazily over the edge of the roof. It was one of those rare, quiet moments where neither of them had anywhere else to be, and that suited them just fine. Hawks leaned his head back, eyes half-lidded as he took in the serene view. Dabi sat beside him, his expression unreadable as usual, but the slight upward curve of his lips betrayed the contentment he rarely showed.

Hawks was the first to break the silence, his voice soft and relaxed. "It's nice up here. Peaceful. Don't you think?"

Dabi gave a lazy shrug, his eyes never leaving the horizon. "Yeah, I guess. Better than listening to Shigaraki ranting about his plans for the fiftieth time."

Hawks chuckled, the sound light and airy. "Not that hard to beat."

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the cool breeze ruffling Hawks' feathers slightly, causing him to shiver. Dabi glanced over, catching the subtle movement of his boyfriend's hands resting on his lap. Hawks' hands were fidgeting slightly, tracing random patterns on his pants—a nervous habit he couldn't quite shake.

Without thinking much of it, Dabi reached over and grabbed one of Hawks' hands, pulling it into his lap. Hawks blinked, surprised, but didn't resist. He watched as Dabi began to absentmindedly play with his fingers, tracing the calluses on his palms and occasionally running his thumb over the soft skin on the back of his hand. It wasn't a conscious gesture from Dabi, but more like second nature—something to keep his hands busy.

Hawks' heart fluttered, his cheeks tinging with pink as he tried not to focus too much on the warmth of Dabi's touch. He'd never get used to this—these little moments where Dabi's guard was down, and he was just... gentle. It was something Hawks adored but would never outright say. He just let himself feel it.

Dabi's thumb brushed over Hawks' knuckles, circling each one slowly. His touch was careful, almost delicate, as if he were inspecting each finger like they held some kind of secret. Hawks found himself captivated by the sight. It was nothing, really—just Dabi being bored—but it felt like everything to him.

"You've got small hands," Dabi mumbled, almost to himself. "For a bird."

Hawks snorted softly. "Yeah? What were you expecting, talons?"

Dabi shrugged again, but his focus never shifted. "Dunno. Maybe. Guess I never really thought about it."

Hawks watched him with a fond smile, admiring the way Dabi's pale fingers contrasted against his own tanned skin. Dabi's touch was both comforting and grounding, and Hawks loved how his boyfriend always found some way to keep him close without making a big deal of it. Dabi might not say it outright, but these little actions spoke louder than words ever could.

As Dabi continued to trace the lines of Hawks' palm, Hawks closed his eyes, letting himself savour the quiet intimacy of the moment. It was easy to get lost in it—the gentle strokes, the way Dabi's fingers would occasionally linger on a spot before moving on. Hawks bit his lip, trying to hide the silly smile that was threatening to spread across his face. He didn't want to break the spell.

"You're so quiet," Dabi remarked, glancing up at Hawks with a curious look in his blue eyes. "What's going on in that bird brain of yours?"

Hawks chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Nothing, really. Just... enjoying this."

Dabi smirked, but there was a softness in his expression that he didn't bother hiding. "Yeah? I'm just bored."

"I know," Hawks replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I like it anyway."

The sky continued to darken, stars beginning to peek through as night settled in. Hawks kept stealing glances at Dabi's concentrated face, his heart swelling with affection. It was these moments—the small, seemingly insignificant ones—that made everything else worth it. Just being close, feeling Dabi's touch, and knowing that, in their own way, they were both exactly where they wanted to be.

Dabi finally let go of Hawks' hand, only to intertwine their fingers together, his grip firm and reassuring. Hawks squeezed back, leaning his head against Dabi's shoulder with a contented sigh.

"Stay like this a little longer?" Hawks asked softly, already knowing the answer.

Dabi didn't respond verbally, but his thumb traced slow circles on the back of Hawks' hand, a silent agreement that spoke volumes. They stayed like that, fingers intertwined, the city far below them but feeling miles away. In that moment, there was no League, no heroes, no villains—just Dabi and Hawks, tangled up in the quiet comfort of each other's presence.