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The Rolex that Enji had gifted Hawks at the beginning of dinner sits nice and heavy on his left wrist, the gold embellished wings just under the middle of the dial catching in the restaurant lighting. They wink and glint as Hawks moves, seeming to almost flutter through the expensive glass crystal of the watch face. The watch itself is a stark contrast to the light touch of the gift bag hidden between Hawks’ thigh and the leg of the low dinner table they’re currently knelt at.
The inconspicuous gift bag had been the sole reason Hawks had left his agency early enough to beat Enji to the restaurant for once. It’d given Hawks the opportunity to squirrel it away before Enji had a chance to notice it.
Hawks doesn’t know if Enji has actually seen the bag or not but he hasn’t said anything all dinner and with any luck even if he had noticed it, he probably thought it was a birthday present from one of the ducklings back at the agency. Either way he hasn’t said anything, so here Hawks is, waiting for the opportune moment to bring it up.
Hawks sets the last of his chicken skewers down—having quickly scarfed down his food—and sets his cheek on a palm, watching Enji go through his own food at a more sedate pace. His stomach flutters with something like nerves as he watches Enji eat, his dinner well on its way to disappearing too.
The opportune moment was drawing near, it seemed.
Hawks sighs, he really was getting a bit too nervous over this. This was now the second birthday he’d spent with Enji after the clusterfuck that’d happened with Shigaraki, his second birthday spent with the man he was in an actual relationship with, not just the friends with benefits thing they’d had going on before the war.
The war had changed a lot of things though, and hell, if Enji had been going to leave him it would have been in the months right after the war, when Hawks had been so raw and hurt and aching with the apparent loss of his wings, that he’d lashed out at everything and everyone he could, including Enji. But Enji hadn’t left, he’d stayed, and now here he was, with Hawks.
The Rolex is a comforting weight on his wrist.
No time like the present, Hawks thinks cheerily as any nerves he’d had left suddenly dissipate.
He reaches under the table, grabs the bag, and then sets the unassuming thing before Enji. Enji looks up from his food to raise a brow at it and then Hawks.
“I was under the impression that people usually received gifts on their birthday, not gave them.”
“Oh, it’s a gift for me alright,” Hawks says, easy smile forming on his face, he can feel the bumpy ridges of his burn scar shift in his palm, “it’s just a gift for you first. To wear. Specifically.”
Enji’s face only scrunches in confusion, his own scar pulling tight, but he sets his chopsticks down anyway.
“Open it,” Hawks says and then waits until Enji reaches for the bag. “But before you do, just know that I know that you sent Burnin’ snooping on what I would want for a birthday gift this year—”
Enji frowns. “She was supposed to be discreet.”
Hawks tilts his brows in a way that conveys,
Burnin’? Discreet?
“You have a point,” Enji grumbles as he brings the plain paper bag towards him and then grabs a handful of the red tissue paper Hawks had haphazardly stuffed into it. It crinkles in Enji’s hand but before he can pull it out completely Hawks quickly finishes the sentence he’d had interrupted.
“I just want you to remember that because this—this is the gift I want Endeavor.”
Enji’s gaze zeroes in on him as he pulls the wad of tissue paper out, faint amusement in his gaze.
Then he peers inside the bag and promptly sets their dinner table on fire.
***
Thankfully Hawks was able to save the gift bag with a quick zip of a feather.
The table, assorted cutlery, rug, and part of the ceiling in the room he and Enji had been eating in—eh—not so lucky.
Hawks stands outside the restaurant and cradles the bag to his chest protectively as Enji apologizes yet again to the restaurant matron for burning down half of one of her pricier private rooms. He finishes by telling her to charge all the damage to the shiny black credit card he wips out of his wallet and its only with the card in hand that the matron loses some of her anger.
Ooh, that was going to be a hefty bill.
Not that it’d be much of a dent in Enji’s bank account, but still.
Apologies finished and card ran Enji finally starts stomping back towards Hawks. He eyes the bag in Hawks’ hands like it’s another thing he wants to set on fire and Hawks pulls it further into himself on instinct.
“Absolutely not,” Enji enunciates.
“But—”
“No.”
“Just hear me out big guy—”
But Enji is already shouldering past him to the car.
“If this was your idea of a joke it is in poor taste Hawks,” Enji spits and its only then that Hawks finally notices the veins bulging in Enji’s forearms as he fists his hands, the tension in his shoulders, and that particular timbre of voice that always denoted actual anger.
“Woah, wait, wait, wait,” Hawks responds hastily as he hops and flaps his way over to cut off Enji’s retreat. He lays a hand on Enji’s chest and even through the thick fabric of his coat it’s very warm. Hawks is pretty sure that Hellfire is simmering just under Enji’s skin, held at bay only by Enji’s restraint on his own anger.
“You think this was a joke?”
“What else would it be,” Enji grits out.
“This isn’t a joke Endeavor,” Hawks says, bracing his forearm as Enji tries to push his way through, “I’m serious. This is what I want for my birthday this year. You. In this.”
He shakes the bag in hand a little, still making sure to keep protectively close.
Enji’s face goes through various emotions before it finally settles on confusion. Some of the tension at his shoulders eases though, and Hawks counts that as a win.
“But why would you…want to…” Enji responds, his sentence trailing off ambiguously, not all the way to a question, as if Enji couldn’t even fathom it being a question.
Hawks’ eyes narrow.
“Has it occurred to you that I’d chew my own arm off for the chance to see you in something like this?”
Enji’s eyes widen.
“Hell, I’d rip my freakin’ wings out—”
“Don’t joke about that,” Enji rumbles lowly.
Warmth sizzles low in Hawks’ stomach.
“Okay, fine, but that’s how serious I am about this. It’s not a joke.”
They’re at a standstill, neither one backing down until finally Hawks sighs.
“Look, you can say no if you really aren’t comfortable with it and I won’t bring it up again just…please? We don’t even have to do anything, I just—I really wanna see you in it.”
Enji brows furrow further but the tension at his shoulders doesn’t come back and he’s peering down at Hawks with that particular look that he did sometimes. Like Hawks was a puzzle that Enji wasn’t quite all the way to understanding yet.
A little more than a year into an actual relationship with Enji and Hawks was getting very good at knowing when he could still push.
“Please,” he emphasizes, “it’d make me a very, very, happy bird.”
Enji’s features contort again, but some of the harsher lines of his face ease as he exhales a plume of smoke forcibly from his nose and looks away. He pushes Hawks’ hand from his chest and starts walking forward again.
“Let’s go home,” he says gruffly.
Hawks grins so wide that if feels like the smile is going to split his face in half.
It’s not an explicit yes, but it’s not a no either and Hawks knows he’s already won.
***
“This is stupid,” Enji rumbles from behind the closed bathroom door.
“It is not,” Hawks reiterates for the umpteenth time since they’d first arrived home and made a beeline for the bedroom. He’s currently slouched on Enji’s bed, weight braced on arms that are extended behind him. “And you promised so no going back on me now, big guy.”
“I did not promise,” Enji retorts, just like Hawks knew he would.
You might as well have, Hawks thinks but doesn’t say.
“Where did you even get this,” Enji continues, oblivious to Hawks’ internal musings.
“That’s for me to know big guy and you to bla bla bla,” Hawks sing-songs. “But believe me when I say it was customized to exact size and taste.”
Hawks hears elastic fwip through the air and something metal clank against Enji’s bathroom countertop.
“Jesus Hawks.”
“Whaaat,” Hawks drawls out, tries not to let the chuckle in his voice be too obvious, “I told you I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”
Enji doesn’t respond to that and the quiet lengthens, though Hawks can still see Enji’s shadow moving around under the crack of the doorway.
Hawks idly kicks his legs as he waits, debates pulling out his phone for something to fiddle with but then he hears Enji shuffle towards the door, his shadow under the crack getting bigger. Hawks sits up straight in an instant, all thoughts of anything else but Enji on the other side of the door dashed from his mind.
“Uh,” Enji finally says, and his voice sounds a little uncertain, like Enji never really was with most things, “do you want me to just…come out?”
Hawks bites back the teasing words that bubble naturally at his lips.
“That’s the plan, big guy.” He says simply instead.
Steam starts to roll out from under the door.
Damn, was Enji actually that nervous about this? That he’s already started steaming without Hawks having even laid eyes on him?
The door still doesn’t open.
Fuck, okay, maybe Hawks shouldn’t have pushed this hard, shouldn’t have leaned so heavy on it being his birthday. If Enji was genuinely this uncomfortable, this hesitant, then maybe Hawks should just—
The door creaks open a sliver and more steam pours out through the gap. The harsh streak of light the bathroom fluorescents throw into the dim lit bedroom ripple with barely discernible whorls of heat, little curlicues of distortion casting faint shadows on the wood floor beneath.
“If you laugh, I swear to god Hawks,” Enji growls, the door still resolutely only cracked.
“Enji,” Hawks says, hoping the name will convey how serious he is about this, “I might do a lot of things when I see you in my gift, but I fucking promise, laughing won’t be one of them.”
Steam continues to waft out and then finally, the door opens all the way.
Enji steps out in a hazy cloud of vapor and it takes a little bit for it to dissipate enough that Enji becomes more than a blur of tan and red but when he does.
Hawks’ breath catches in his throat.
Enji looks—
He looks—
Fucking gorgeous.
The lingerie set fits him to perfection just like Hawks had made sure it would.
It’s blood red delicate see through lace, the exact color of Hawks’ wings, stretched tight across Enji’s chest in a keyhole halter top that even at a distance Hawks can see is straining, barely able to contain the muscle of his pecs. The halter ends just under Enji’s chest and connects down via elastic straps that crisscross down Enji’s ribs to hook onto a garter belt. It swathes each side of Enji’s hips in detailed lace but leaves the chiseled bumps of of Enji’s abs and his happy trail open for Hawks to see. The garter connects down with more elastic straps adorned with metal buckles that clip onto the elaborate lace tops of thigh high mesh stockings.
The garter belt and stockings together do an amazing job of framing the bottoms of the whole set, panties made mostly from the same elastic straps that sprout from the garter. They circle Enji’s hips with more decorative buckles and all converge on a small piece of lace at Enij’s crotch that even with Enji soft, looks like it’s barely holding him in.
Hawks’ eyes widen, he gapes, and then he’s speaking without conscious thought.
“God Endeavor you look—fucking gorgeous.”
Steam sizzles from every available patch of Enji’s skin and the panties do absolutely nothing to hide the way his cock twitches.
Oh
Oh
That might be…might be something.
Hawks scrambles off the bed, barely avoids tripping over himself as he all but runs at Enji. He skids to a stop in front of him, eyes roaming, mouth watering and suddenly he needs to touch.
Enji is a fucking vision in delicate red lace and Hawks wants to devour him.
He reaches a hand forward, wants to feel the thin, sheer texture of lace that’s stretching obscenely over Enji’s chest, but he stops himself before he makes contact. He swallows, looks up at Enji instead, takes in the flush of his cheeks, the clench of his jaw, the way he’s looking down at Hawks like he’s still not sure whether Hawks is going to laugh or not.
And he won’t—won’t do this unless Enji lets him, unless Enji wants it too.
“Can I…” Hawks asks then, fingers millimeters from Enji’s skin. He can feel heat radiating off him like furnace, it makes Hawks shiver. “Can I touch you, please?”
If possible Enji gets even hotter, until Hawks is no longer sure he isn’t going to burst into actual flame.
(Hawks knew it’d be a good idea to fireproof this set)
Enji stares down at him and then nods once, curt, and it’s all the permission Hawks needs to dive in.
He doesn’t know where to put his hands first, he wants it all.
He sweeps his hands over the lace at Enji’s chest, then lets them fall down to the straps that connect it to the garter belt. He runs his fingers under them, feeling each and every dip and curve of Enji’s musculature as he makes his way down. His hands meet the top of the garter belt where the straps are hooked to and he follows the edge of that around Enij’s stomach to settle his hands at his hips. His palms are snug over lace but the tips of his fingers rest teasingly on bare skin and Hawks already knows what he’ll see should he turn around. More straps framing Enji’s glorious bare ass.
Hawks swallows his rapidly pooling saliva but within seconds his mouth is flooded all over again, another moment and he might just start fucking drooling. But he can’t help it, he feels like man half-starved who’s just been put in front of a table bowing under the weight of a feast and told to wait.
He swallows again, and looks up to meet Enji’s gaze.
Enji shuffles self-consciously and the halter shifts with him, the thicker elastic that grips just underneath Enji’s pecs lifts as he tenses, revealing the concave where his pecs meet in the middle.
Fuck, the hole it makes as it stretches taught would be fucking perfect for Hawks to fuck into, the keyhole giving the perfect view of his cock sliding in the middle of Enji’s tits—
Hawks has to bite his cheek to actively stop himself from moaning at the thought alone.
Another time, if there ever even was another time, but by all the gods that Hawks didn’t actually believe in he was going to make sure there was.
He had to make this good, as good for Enji as it was already turning out to be for him.
So, Hawks drops to his knees, nuzzles into the slightly scratchy mesh fabric at Enji’s thighs before he nuzzles at the bulge of his cock.
“Hawks,” Enji squawks, even as Hawks can feel his cock twitch at his cheek. He rubs against it once more, as much a hopefully enticing preview of what’s to come as it is for Hawks’ own pleasure. He might be a bird but at the moment he feels nothing so much like a cat scenting what’s his.
But the focus isn’t Hawks right now, so Hawks gives one last nuzzle and clears his thoughts.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to but please, please, let me do this for you, let me make you feel good because fuck Endeavor, I didn’t think—just—”
Well, so much for clearing his thoughts, he’s already bordering on incoherent and they haven’t even done anything.
“At least let me say thank you. Please.”
Enji stares down at him, features still tight even as his cock starts to rapidly fill in his panties.
Hawks wets his lips slowly, ready to do anything, fucking anything, that will help convince Enji to say yes.
Enji’s gaze zeroes in on his mouth, his cheeks flush, and then he nods, short and curt once more.
Hawks spares a moment to grin wide up at him and then he’s swooping in for his prize.
He licks Enji through the panties first, long swipes along the shaft before he pauses to suck on the tip, the lace an interesting sensation on Hawks’ lips. Hawks sneaks a peek up and finds Enji staring with the flush of his cheeks gone darker but with his brows still furrowed and his hands still tense at his side.
Now, that wouldn’t do.
Hawks gets back to work, parts his mouth so that he can get the full of his lips around Enji, sliding up and down Enji’s lace covered dick until it’s fully hard and Enji’s breathing has finally shifted faster. Until he can taste the precum when he sucks at the head, hear the hitch in Enji’s breath as he does.
Hawks pulls back with one last lick to admire his handiwork.
There’s something indecent about seeing Enji like this, the lace of his panties dark from Hawks’ spit and Enji’s hard cock straining against it. The tip of his dick is peeking up through the top of the panties, no hope for the cloth to be able to hold him now that he was hard.
Hawks swirls the dribble of precum around Enji’s head with a finger and then finally, finally, drags the panties down fully so that Enji’s cock can bob free. Hawks takes a second to breathe, squirming a little as his own hard cock rubs up against the inseam of his jeans.
He takes Enji in hand, spits, and then pumps his cock glistening wet. He licks his lips, already tasting Enji on them, and then wraps his mouth over the head.
Enji makes a stifled noise above him and Hawks takes him deeper, hand pumping what he can’t reach as he starts to bob, setting up a steady rhythm. Then he takes him as deep as is comfortable and stays there, is rewarded by another short noise.
He breathes through his nose as he holds Enji in his mouth, lips stretched, tongue swirling at the underside. With Enji’s cock resting hot on his tongue Hawks takes the opportunity to follow the straps around Enji’s waist and cup around his ass. He palms at the soft skin, plays with the straps that outline Enji’s cheeks, and thwaps the buckles that connect them to the lace of the garter belt. He gets a warning rumble when he thwaps one a little too hard.
Hawks can feel the corners of his mouth twitching, even with his lips stretched wide as they are now.
He glances up, makes sure to catch Enji’s eyes as he cups around his ass again and then Hawks is digging his nails in and shoving himself down on Enji’s cock, deepthroating him without warning and humming like he knows drives Enji wild.
Enji’s moan cuts short and a hand shoves into Hawks’ hair, tightening. The action has heat pulsing down from Hawks’ scalp to his cock and his humming turns into a moan of his own. Enji pulls back, thrust into Hawks’ mouth again and Hawks knows he has to be marking divots in Enji’s ass with how tight he’s holding on as Enji starts fucking his mouth.
The sound of Enji fucking into him like this is obscene, the wet, sloppy, slide of Enji’s dick against his lips keeping up a rhythm of its own and it only serves to get Hawks even harder, to have him jerk his hips useless against air and the meager friction his jeans can offer. And Hawks would keep going like this, let Enji’s hand in his hair tighten further, sparking pleasurepain down his spine, let Enji fuck his mouth with abandon, choke on his cock and have him spurt hot and thick down his throat at he came, but—
As long as Enji was willing, Hawks wanted more.
Hawks wraps his hand around the wrist at his head, a silent request to stop, and Enji does, though not without one last thrust into his mouth. Enji still holds onto his hair as Hawks pulls back, a shiny string of spit connecting them that breaks only when Hawks wipes haphazardly at his mouth.
He looks up red lace and carved musculature and stares into glacial blue eyes that currently seem to hold a fire of their own, one hot enough to rival the scorch of Enji’s flames.
“Bed?” Hawks asks in a voice gone ragged.
Enji doesn’t answer just disentangles his hand from Hawks’ hair and pads over to the bed. He crawls on it, giving Hawks a perfect view of his glorious ass—half moon little crescents perfectly discernible—before he sprawls backwards on the pillows, the wood of the headboard giving a slight creak as he makes himself comfortable.
And then Enji’s spreads himself like an offering, cock hard and proud between his legs, curving to his stomach. The flush that hasn’t left his cheeks since he’d first walked out of the bathroom now extends all the way down to his chest, the halter shifting with every expanding heave of a breath.
“Holy fuck Endeavor,” Hawks gasps out all over again, taking it all in again, the fact that Enji had done this—was doing this, “you don’t know—how you look right now—it’s—”
Enji’s cock dribbles precum on to his stomach, the flush spreads further.
Hawks rips his clothes off like they’re on fire, is pretty sure he hears some seams pop with how rough he pulls at it but he genuinely cannot bring himself to care. Enji is currently one of Hawks’ fantasies made reality and he needs to get his hands on him now.
He pounces, straddling Enji’s hips and coming down to kiss him hard, hands roaming everywhere he can get them. He sits back up, rakes a hand through his hair.
So many possibilities, so many things they could do with Enji dressed like this, for Hawks, just for Hawks.
Hawks’ blood boils at the thought, heating him until it feels like at any moment he’s going to be the one sprouting flame from his skin.
Enji’s lips are swollen red and plush with their messy kisses, usually pristine hair sticking up in odd directions already. He’s looking up at Hawks with heavy lidded eyes, the faintest lick of steam wafting up from parted lips.
And suddenly, Hawks knows exactly what it is he wants to do.
“Can I—” Hawks asks, heart a loud thump up in his throat, “Can I fuck you?”
Because to have Enji like this, in straps and lace that Hawks had bought for him, that Enji had worn for him, specifically because Hawks had asked him to—it makes the heat in Hawks’ veins coil heavy and startingly possessive in a swirling, wanting, mess in Hawks’ belly.
But he doesn’t know if this is too much—as Enji’s heavy lidded eyes widen, as steam plumes stronger from his mouth—if this is more than Enji is willing to give in this night of new experiences. And if that’s the case, if all Enji wants is for Hawks to go back to sucking him off, to finish with his come in Hawks’ mouth and then lumber off to the bathroom to peel his lace set off, that’d be fine, it’d be more than fucking fine because right now Hawks will gladly take whatever Enji gives him.
So, he’s more than a little surprised when Enji’s hand shoots up to fist in his hair again and pull him down for another bruising kiss, hissing a yes against his lips like Enji would be the one to die if he was denied and not Hawks.
Oh fucking fuck
Hawks makes a frantic noise and kisses him back just as fiercely, pressing himself down on Enji’s body forcefully. He relishes in the way the lace scratches at his oversensitive skin, how the buckles and straps dig into his ribs, how the lace of the garter catches and drags a little rough against the head of his cock.
He ruts down once, twice, can’t help it, hisses at the friction of lace, little starburst of static arousal that only wind Hawks up tighter, only coil the heat at his stomach tighter. Enji gets his hands up and around his back, wide palms smoothing up the bumpy skin of his scars and Hawks trembles at the sensation.
Enji smooths one hand up the middle of his back, fingertips barely brushing against red feathers, and then his other hand wraps around the base of one of his wings and yanks.
Hawks lets out a strangled noise, buries his face in Enji’s neck as he his dick jumps where it’s caught between them.
“Well,” Enji rasps into his hear, hand tightening. “I’m waiting boy.”
It’s a challenge issued with the same tone of command that Enji uses on a battlefield but with a voice that’s gravel rough with arousal. Hawks swears he can feel the vibrations of it against his skin as tangibly as he can feel the lace of Enji’s set.
Hawks grins, a smile slashing across his features before he turns and licks a stripe up Enji’s neck. Enji’s hand twitches at his wing and then Hawks bites down hard where he’d just licked.
Enji grunts, thrusts up instinctively, even though there’s nothing for him to rut against. Hawks licks Enji again, tonguing at a bitemark that’s already going red to match the half-moons on Enji’s ass. Then he pushes back up and sends a feather to dig around for the lube they always kept in the nightstand.
Lube in hand he scrambles down Enji’s body, hastily kneeling between his legs. He pours lube over his fingers, moves the bunched-up fabric of the panties just enough to give him access to Enji’s hole, and gets to work.
He circles a slick finger around Enji’s entrance and pushes in and the noise that escapes Enji’s lips at the first finger alone has Hawks raising a brow.
Enji was always so quiet when Hawks fucked him, which, admittedly didn’t happen as often as the other way around. But whenever Hawks did, it always felt like Enji held himself back a little, as if letting himself make any type of sound would be a slip in the rigid self-discipline he applied in most aspects of his life.
But the noises he’s making now, as Hawks spreads him on one finger, then two, then three, god, Hawks could come just by listening to him.
They’re not loud, Enji has never been loud, even when it’s him railing Hawks to the mattress (and Hawks has always loud enough for the both of them anyways) but now, now it’s as if Enji can’t stop himself. He lets out quiet little bitten off grunts, half choked moans, Hawks’ name once in a hoarse whisper when Hawks hits his prostrate just right that has Hawks digging his free hand into the covers to keep himself from keening.
Hawks has been hard since Enji first walked out of the bathroom but he’s so fucking hard now it hurts and suddenly he can’t wait to be inside Enji anymore, feels like he might actually explode with the force of his want if he doesn’t slip inside of him right fucking now.
He needs to see how many other sounds he can coax out of Enji with more than just his fingers.
Hawks pulls his fingers free, bites his lip bloody at the quiet little whimper Enji lets out as he does. He blindly grabs for the lube, upends half the bottle on his dick, barely feeling the iciness of it as he jerks himself wet. Enji’s face is half dug into a pillow, watching Hawks through hooded eyes as he slicks himself, arms stretched up above him, hands rested palm up and loose above his head.
It’s almost like—like Enji really was offering himself up to Hawks like this, like if Hawks happened to ask if he could tie his wrists together to keep them up nice and pretty like they currently are Enji might actually say yes—
Fuck, Hawks thinks as a blinding heat at the image almost punches a gasp out of him.
Another time, another time—because there was going to be another fucking time so fucking help him—
“Okay, alright, I’m going to—” Hawks rambles as he gives himself one last pump and shuffles closer, lines up the head of his dick with Enji’s puffy red hole.
He grabs at the soft of Enji’s inner thigh, fingers digging into skin and lace and elastic, and it hits him again.
Enji was letting Hawks do this, Enji was letting Hawks have this, because Hawks had asked, and because one look at Enji’s weeping hard dick and the phantom burn of Enji’s hand at his wing told Hawks Enji actually wanted this too.
“Holy fuck, Enji,” Hawks breathes.
Enji huffs a noise of amusement, wisps of steam dancing from the quirked corners of his mouth.
He lifts a brow, a clear, nonverbal.
Well, boy?
Hawks swallows.
He looks back down, hooks a thumb in the lace of the panties to pull it further to the side, and then finally, finally, pushes in.
It’s warmth, slick and velvet and Hawks moans at the sensation of it all, the sound blending with Enji’s answering sigh in heated harmony. He slides in with barely any resistance, burying himself to the hilt and it’s only when he’s bottomed, when his hips push up against all the pretty straps at Enji’s ass that Enji clenches around him.
Hawks chokes and freezes and has to bite his lip in an effort to not move, to not try and thrust in even deeper somehow, to hold still and wait for Enji to get used to the feeling of being full.
He stays as still as he can, feels Enji relax around him by degrees and for as long as he’s waiting, his eyes are sweeping over everything trying to capture every detail to memory.
He wants to remember the color spotted bright on Enji’s cheeks and how it matches the lace of the set Enji is swathed in, wants to remember the furrow between Enji’s brows that Hawks can see disappear only as much as the he feels the pressure around his cock ease up, wants to remember the way Enji’s hands are still up by his head, only taught with tension now, on clawed into a pillow, the other fisted tight on nothing.
The only detail Hawks is missing the blue of Enji’s eyes, hidden away behind lids scrunched tight.
There’s silence for a moment, nothing but the short repetitive rasps of their breathing.
“W—ell,” Enji utters out haltingly. His eyelids crack open, revealing slivers of sweltering ice. Enji’s gaze feels hot enough to burn. “Boy.”
It’s that same challenge as before, only this time made verbal.
And oh, was Hawks planning to deliver.
Hawks pulls back slow and then thrusts back in in one explosive movement, so that the slap of his balls against Enji’s ass claps staccato on his skin.
Enji makes a wounded noise, back arching as the hand he had fisted flies up to slap atop the headboard instead. It’s the first sound all night that Enji doesn’t seem to have been able to tamp down or temper and the realization is a heady shot of intoxicating straight into Hawks’ veins. It makes him want to fuck into Enji with abandon, get that same sound to spill from his lips over and over again but—
But Hawks had a challenge to meet.
He pulls back just as quick, nothing but the head of his cock still inside, watches Enji tense in anticipation, and then thrusts forward achingly slow instead. Pulls back slow, thrusts back in slow, brushes against Enji’s prostrate but never lingers, watches Enji’s hand at the headboard go tighter and tighter.
It’s a battle of wills and one that Hawks is determined not to lose.
“Stop—” Enji barks after an eternity, voice rough. “ Stop playing around, Hawks.”
Hawks thrusts back in slow again, watches Enji’s eyes flash.
“Stop playing around and….?” Hawks asks, letting the question trail as he let’s go of Enji’s thigh to lean over him instead. Sweat drips onto Enji’s chest, soaking into the halter.
Legs clamp around Hawks’ waist, pulling him in closer so that the lace of Enji’s stockings and the buckles that connect them to the garter dig into the soft skin of Hawks’ ribs.
“And fuck me,” Enji growls, the order leaving his lips in wisps of steam that curl teasingly across Hawks’ lips and taste like pleading.
Hawks loses whatever control he’d managed to retain when he’d first pushed into Enji.
Fingers dig into the lace at Enji’s hips as Hawks gets him in a bruising hold and then he fucks into him hard, makes sure to finally hit that spot inside him, pulls back and does it again, and again.
“Like that?” Hawks asks, as he thrusts. “Is that how you want it?”
“Yes,” Enji hisses, “yes. Please.”
Hawks’ brain short circuits on the word please.
He speeds up until he’s fucking into Enji fast and relentless, the slap of skin setting up a counterpoint to Hawks’ pounding heart. Whimpers and moans fall from Enji’s lips in an interesting syncopation and they only help drive Hawks wilder. Enji isn’t even holding them back anymore, letting himself be heard as if he’d always been this vocal in bed, as if Hawks wasn’t having a fucking revelation just listening to him.
“Fuck, so—good—fuck—”
Enji’s thighs tense around him and one of the buckles of the thigh highs snaps and the metal goes flying, pinging on the floor somewhere. The little elastic belt fwips hard enough against Hawks’ ribs that it rips a moans out of him.
“Fuck, Enji fuck.”
Enji’s teeth are grit and his hand is wrapped so tight atop the headboard now that Hawks is scared he’s going to break it.
“You look—look so fucking good like this,” Hawks gets out, “you don’t know how fucking good. So god damn fucking pretty.”
The words slip out of him without filter, the mantra that’s been playing over and over in his head since Enji first walked out of the damn bathroom. But his self-control is fucking gone and that’s before Enji lets out another guttural punched out sound and the wood of the headboard cracks.
Fuckfuckfuck
That was something, just like before, so Hawks keep going because none of it is a lie and he needs Enji to know.
“Do you like that?” Hawks continues as he claws into the lace of the garter. He can feel the fabric tearing under his nails but that’s fine, he’ll just buy Enji another set.
“Ha—wks,” Enji moans in a tone of voice that’s strangled and so much needier than Hawks has heard from him before.
“Do you like hearing how good you look? Because you do—fuck—Enji you’re a vision. I can’t believe you let me see you like this—god you’re so fucking beautiful.”
Enji lets out a keen so loud it takes even Hawks by surprise and then he’s tensing, another two belts at his thighs snap and then a chunk of the headboard snaps off entirely and Enji’s spurting white all over himself.
“Fuck—fuck, Enji,” Hawks babbles, feeling Enji constrict around him, “Enji.”
And then Hawks is tearing through the lace of the garter, the bite of his nails dragging red as he grabs onto Enji and fucks him, faster, faster, until—
“Enji, fuck!”
He cums in long pulses, buried deep and still trying to push in deeper, like he wasn’t already as deep as he could go with Enji’s thighs locked around like steel beams around his waist, like Enji hadn’t already gone so tight around his dick as he came that Hawks’ toes are curling with it. Then Enji goes even tighter, lets out a tiny little fucking mewl and Hawks is wheezing out a gasp as he pitches forward, one hand slapping onto the mattress as his forehead comes to rest at Enji’s sternum. His wings flex out and curve around them, eyes shutting tight as he his cock pulses one last time.
It’s silent save for their breathing. Enji’s panting so hard that Hawks is moving along with the rise and fall of his chest.
Hawks takes one last shuddering breath, feels his ruffled wings settle back down with it, and pushes back up on to his knees, finally loosening the hand he still has clawed at Enji’s side as he does. Enji’s legs unlock from Hawks’ waist, sliding down to thump boneless onto the sheets.
Hawks swipes a hand through his hair, gets the sweaty, limp strands out his face, and then finally takes his fill of what he knows will be a sight before him.
There’s a matching sets of half-moon welts at each side of Enji’s hips framed nicely by frayed red lace and Hawks might not have dug in hard enough to draw blood—barely—but those are definitely going to leave bruises. There’s cum spattered all over Enji’s stomach, streaking and crisscrossing onto the elastic that connects it to the halter. Farther down Hawks’ own cum makes a mess where they’re still joined, thick white dripping out onto the sheets below.
Hawks shifts, watches as more cum wells around him only to freeze when Enji winces and makes a small noise that’s almost drowned out by a groan of wood when he jostles the bed.
Wait, wood.
Hawk whips his head up—
Oh god, there’s a chunk of Enji’s expensive ass wooden headboard completely fucking missing. Hawks’ eyes widen and his mouth is already stretching out in a smile because holy shit Enji had ripped a fucking chunk off his fucking headboard.
Hawks shifts again, grin plastered onto his features, only for Enji to make a wincing sound and then Hawks is zeroing in on him, on the furrow of his brow and the discomfort of his features.
“Fuck,” Hawks breathes, doing hit utmost to try and stay still, “fuck, sorry, I know you can get pretty sensitive afterwards.”
Enji makes a noncommittal noise, eyes darting to Hawks’ and away.
So Hawks smooths his hands down Enji’s splayed thighs, digs his fingers into the muscle much more gently, trying to sooth some of the tension that’d snuck back into Enji’s frame.
“Alright,” Hawks says in a quiet voice, once their breathing has finally calmed down to some semblance of normal, once the tension is bled out of Enji’s body once more. “I’m gonna pull out now, okay big guy.”
Enji nods.
Hawks pulls out in one swift movement, watches in rapt fascination as more of his cum gushes out after him.
He leans back down over Enji, makes sure to take his weight on his arms and not make more of a mess of Enji’s stomach than there already is, Enji probably wouldn’t appreciate it. He leans down and he kisses Enji slow and deep and then he whispers against Enji’s lips.
“Thanks for the birthday gift, big guy.”
Enji doesn’t answer, but his eyes go softer, in a way that has always spoken more than Enji’s words ever have, especially in quiet moments like this between them.
Warmth bubbles up into Hawks’ chest, wings ruffling behind him in his happiness. He leans back on his thighs.
“Guess it’s time to get you out of this, huh?” he says, getting a finger under the straps of the garter to flick it gently against Enji’s skin. He calls one of his shorter feathers to hand, gets a finger under frayed lace and pulls it high enough to get the feather underneath.
“Wait, what are you—” Enji starts in a raspy voice.
“Eh, it’s kind of a goner,” Hawks says as he sharpens only the side of the feather up against the lace, cutting through it cleanly and leaving the other side to drag gently along Enji’s skin. Goosebumps sprout in the wake of it and Hawks can’t help the trill of faint heat in his stomach at the sight. Hawks continues cutting him out of the rest of the now pretty tattered set. “Besides, I’ll just buy you a new set.”
Enji tenses under him
“If you want,” Hawks adds smoothly as he finishes shearing through the frankly sad remains of the garter belt.
He looks up only for Enji to look away.
“Do what you want,” Enji says, gruff once more.
Hawks grins.
Once the set has been peeled off and thrown onto the floor to be thought of later Hawks sends a feather into the bathroom for a towel. He cleans at the mess at Enji’s stomach and between his legs and it’s only after he dumps the towel on the floor that Enji frowns.
“Wait, what about—” Enji starts, can’t bring himself to finish the sentence apparently, as he gestures vaguely at the halter top.
Hawks grins bright once more, “Keep that one on, for a little bit at least, please?”
Enji’s cheeks flush warm and he doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t move to take it off either.
“I would have thought you’d gotten your fill already,” he finally says.
Hawks chuckles, “Oh indulge me a bit would you? Besides, you make it sound like I was the only one that enjoyed all this, the furniture says otherwise.”
Enji’s brow furrow in confusion and then widen in realization and he’s whipping around to stare at his headboard in mute horror like he only just remembered that he’d ripped a fucking chunk of it off.
Come to think of it, Hawks doesn’t really know where the hell that chunk even went.
And then Enji’s blushing as red as his hair and Hawks can’t stop the cackle that bubbles out of his mouth, can’t stop himself from burrowing into Enji’s side even as he can feel Enji’s skin start to heat threateningly against him. He throws an arm around Enji and squeezes tight and even if Hawks can practically feel Hellfire simmering against his cheek, Enji throws an arm around his waist anyway.
“You’re going to be the one paying for that,” Enji rumbles quietly as he tucks Hawks further into his side, and even without looking at his face Hawks can just about hear his pout.
Warmth fizzles in Hawks’ chest like firecrackers and he can’t stop his wings from floofing out, can’t stop the physical manifestation of his joy and by Enji’s soft snort, he knows that Enji can’t have missed it either.
“Whatever you want, big guy,” Hawks says, smiling into his neck.
***
From then on there is a drawer in Enji’s dresser dedicated to nothing but very finely made lingerie and even though Hawks always tells himself he’ll be careful new sets get added pretty frequently anyways.
Neither of them complains much about that.