Ayumu woke in a heap of sweat, limbs tangled with hers from either side. She was both thirsty as fuck and needed to pee, so carefully extracted herself from the tangled bodies. She had seen Hawks' bathroom before falling into the obnoxiously large bed ("Sometimes a guy likes to stretch his wings, y'know?") and found it as grudgingly impressive as the rest of the flat. Her entire studio could fit in this wash room.

She cleaned her hands, wringing them over the copper bowl atop the marble counter. It had to be lacquered or something, she figured, or how else would the basin that served as the sink not turn green? The hand towel was scarlet, which was a color heavily featured throughout the hero's decor, and it was sinfully soft.

Time for water.

There was a light from the kitchen guiding her way, but she froze when shadows danced across the walls.

"You alright there, pretty girl?"

"Dammit, Hawks, you scared the shit out of me." A part of her had thought it might be Dabi; he had been tempted to tie her to the bed, and only Hawks assuring him the elevator needed the hero specifically in order to come to this floor had soothed the other man enough to leave her free. She had pouted and asked if he didn't trust her, to which he'd responded, "Fuck, no."

Hawks leaned against a cabinet, glass in hand, and smiled disarmingly. "Sorry, babe. I didn't know you'd be coming to the kitchen."

"I'm thirsty." She brushed past the nude man, rising to her toes to search through the cupboard.

Cool glass pressed against her shoulder. "Here you go."

She eyed him with clear suspicion but took the glass. They had exchanged fluids, so refusing to drink from the same glass would be silly.

"Couldn't sleep?" The hero asked, leaning closer to her and watching her with those keen eyes.

She gulped down a good half of what he had filled it with before pulling it from her lips. "Not particularly, no. Did Dabi tell you why you shouldn't touch me?"

"I figured it was a possessive thing; he seems to keep you on a short leash."

"He might be, but I don't really like random people touching me. Because of my Quirk."

Black wings highlighted scarlet by the singular little light spread, one brushing against her bicep. It was strangely soft and intimate. "You don't like it? Or is there a drawback?"

"I dream of vulnerable memories of the people who touch me."

A frown formed between those amber eyes, mouth curling thoughtfully. As he drank in the meaning of her words, the wing that had been so softly beside her snapped away, the pair tucking behind him so quickly the sounds were like falls about to land. "Did you have a dream about me?"

There it was, that uncomfortable realization that she might learn his secrets. As a pro hero turned spy for the LOV, he would have his fair share.

"No. We've only been sleeping for, like, two hours," she murmured, averting her gaze to the gleam on the marble countertop. "It doesn't always happen right away."

"You must learn all kinds of things from those dreams." Hawks sounded sharper despite the friendly layer he used to coat his words. "It's gotta be useful."

She rolled her lips. "Not really, no. I see things like losing your virginity, a fight where you got a beat-down, bullies giving swirlies. And death."

"That's— what kinds of things do you get from Dabi and the League? That's gotta be rough." Was he fishing for information?

"I actually really did see Dabi losing his virginity. Girl was hot, too." That elicited a chuckle. "I was born with my Quirk. I'm guessing you were, too. A lot of heteromorphic Quirks are present at birth."

He kept quiet and Ayumu finally returned her reluctant gaze to find him watching her, face neutral on what she said, perhaps even a little curious. He was letting her speak. When she met his gaze, he nodded in affirmation.

"I've seen things, things that are far worse than what Shigaraki or Dabi or Toga have experienced. I have seen the absolute worst of humanity, so trust me when I say most people's secrets aren't too much to handle. What's some guy being unmade with a touch when you've seen a child go through things no child should endure. When you've felt that pain multiple times. When you've seen botched attempts at suicide, or the result of torture sessions. When you've felt hate and shame and love over and over and over again. Most memories are pebbles on the scale; it's the whole that weighs you down."

He'd drawn closer again, tugging her to his side and curling a wing protectively around her. "Do you tell people these secrets?"

She laughed bitterly at all the ways that could be interpreted. "Only those whose memories they are. I might say something that's essentially harmless, like, 'oh, yeah, it was just a kid on the street,' or some shit, but I learned pretty early on that telling others was a bad idea. So no, I won't be spilling anything to Dabi, if you're worried."

"How do you handle it?" He was too close now, his warmth engulfing her. "The weight of all those memories?"

"I'm a painter, actually. Started as art therapy, but I took to it. And it helps some. But it's still hard."

Hawks tipped her chin up so she was no longer staring absently through their present. "Do you— do you want to leave? Escape?"

"Of course, I do. But how the fuck would I do that? You gonna fly me outta here, hero?"

"Not right now, but maybe. If you can hold on, I'll try." Hawks was unguarded as he cupped her face, willing her to read what was unsaid.

"They know my name." They could track her down easily anywhere she went.

Sympathy softened his features. "I'll do what I can."

Tears welled slowly enough that they cooled as they shimmered over the ledge of her eyelids before spilling down her cheeks. "Why?"

"Maybe you'll find out in your dreams," he said wryly, then bent down and laid a gentle kiss on her lips. "C'mon. We should get back to bed before scarface wakes up."

Hawks guided her to the bedroom and up onto the plush mattress. As though a flame could be drawn to the moth, Dabi soon wrapped his burned limbs around her. Hawks settled on his side facing her, draping an arm around her and drawing circles on her skin until they drifted back asleep.

"Hawks, fuck, harder!" Heels dug into a sun kissed back, wings spread wide as he rode her. He didn't know what to do with his hands, so they just caged the woman beneath him.

This was… this was…

This was weird. She didn't even know his real name. She didn't know him, just the young new hero who was too fast for his own good. She was beautiful, but she was shallow, this whole thing was shallow. It was a bad idea.

Why was he doing this again?

"Hawks?" The woman's face was twisted in confusion.

Dabi waited all of three minutes after they got to the apartment before asking, "So, did you get anything from him?"

"What do you mean?" She knew, but this was part of the game.

He kissed along the sensitive skin of her neck. "I mean, did you dream a memory of his?"

"Yes, actually. Not that it's any of your business."

He pulled her hips against him, one hand trailing up to encircle her throat. "It is my business if you find out anything the League can use." Wet heat flit down the shell of her ear. "So if you find out any of chicken little's secrets, you're gonna spill them to daddy like a good girl. Or I will make what I can do with my Quirk look like a kid killing ants with a magnifying glass. Got it, dollface?"

The shiver down her spine was not lust. "He was having sex with some woman. I don't know who she is, and I don't think he did, either." And he got soft halfway through because he felt awkward and disconnected, but she wasn't going to share that part.

"Did she scream his name or anything?"

"She called him Hawks."

He contemplated that, lips hovering over her throat before he planted a gentle kiss and stepped away. "I gotta go talk to Shigaraki. I'll see ya later, doll."

Notes:

I have a few chapters of this pre-written. I'm also working on a one-shot palate cleaner sort of fic while making myself re-focus.

Anyway, handling a lot of medical stuff, but feeling inspired to write. Oh, and I have a new foster kitten.