The Birds and the Villainous Bees

Dabi pinning Hawks’ arms over his head and sliding one hand into his pants in the alleyway behind the hero commission building...teasing his sex through his leotard and then pulling it aside to rub the pad of one rough fingertip over his hard clit and Hawks is biting his lip because this makes him ache and shudder and he doesn’t know what to do with it. He’s never known what to do with it, no one ever taught him anything other than the biological basics and those were never right for him anyway. 

He’s on his tiptoes like he’s trying to get away from it, even though his hips keep shivering downwards because of how good it feels. Dabi keeps grinning at him like he knows some secret and Hawks wants to know it too—so, so badly. His cunt is so wet for this, in a way he’s only ever read about in trashy ‘romance’ novels he’d sneak sometimes, the ones that made him pulse and thrust his hips against his pillow until the frustration eased a little. 

But this is different. Something is building inside him, and he’s almost frightened that he’ll do something embarrassing. Dabi keeps saying “come, come” over and over but he doesn’t even really know what that means. What’s he supposed to do? He gives a frustrated little sob at that, and then the angle is changing, that fingertip dipping inside his body and working just at the front, stroking him until a heat starts to build inside him and his heart catches in his throat. It feels like Dabi is pulling something out of him, but he’s not sure what it is, and he begs him to stop.   

“But you’re so close, birdie. Your clit is so hard, wouldn’t it hurt more if I stopped?”

And to demonstrate, his fingers still. All at once, the aching burn gets worse, as though the motion of his hands had been both building and soothing it. Hawks feels empty, frustrated, and squirms in the steely grip. He could break it, but Dabi is right—he needs something.

It’s like an itch he hasn’t scratched yet, and his hips buck down in need. Is this what lust is? No one told him. It’s good and it hurts and he feels so good when Dabi smiles at him again. “Please,” he begs, insides clenching on the finger pushing steadily deeper. “I need—I need!“

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Dabi reassures him, and starts the stroking motion inside him again, grinding the meat of his palm against Hawks’ erection. He almost cries with relief, even though that sensation of something approaching starts up again. “You need me to make you cum.”

Hawks groans at that, trying to ride the hand between his thighs now. It’s so wet that he can hear the noise of it, and he would feel ashamed if it was any less incredible. When he looks down, there’s a bulge at the front of Dabi’s jeans and he realizes that Dabi is hard too. Hard for him. He gulps, and shakes his head from side to side. 

“I don’t know—what you want me to do, I don’t know how,” he tries to explain, even though all his voice wants to do is pant and moan. 

“You don’t know how to cum?” He sounds legitimately curious about this, and Hawks bites his lip as he nods. It feels shameful to admit somehow, but this whole thing has him burning with embarrassment anyway.  

“No wonder you’re so tight—“ he starts, then cuts off and kisses Hawks’ neck. ”You’re already doing so well for me. Just relax, and feel it.”

He still doesn’t know if he should be doing something but Dabi’s hot breath on his neck is so distracting, and the hand against his sex keeps pumping in and in until the tidal wave of whatever it is starts to crest over him. Pleasure lights from his core outwards, and it feels like every nerve ending is being soaked with white-hot ecstasy as Dabi’s mouth swallows the scream. It’s as though every muscle in his entire body is tensing at once, and his mind blanks out as his hips jerk. He knows instantly that now he’s had this once, he’ll want it again and again forever. It’s the best thing he’s ever felt, on a primal level, and when he collapses back against the wall, he whines out Dabi’s name as that finger slides out of him. 

It’s covered in wetness and before he can say anything, Dabi locks their gaze and slides that finger into his own mouth. It should be disgusting, considering where it came from, but it makes Hawks shiver to think that Dabi is licking up something that came from inside him and caused him so much pleasure, with a blissful expression on his face. He pulls it out with a faint pop and looks entirely too satisfied with himself, finally letting go of Hawks’ arms and allowing him to sag back against the wall. 

“Fuck, your cum tastes good. I can’t wait to lick it right out of your pussy,” he murmurs, and Hawks feels his wings fluff up at the casual lewdness of the comment. His face must be bright red by now, if it wasn’t already, and he does his best to square himself up even though his insides feel like jelly.   

“Yeah, well—I’m gonna make you come too,” he huffs, trying to straighten out his disheveled costume. Dabi only laughs at that, low and throaty, and Hawks wished it didn’t make him shiver internally again.   

“Good to know. I guess sex ed is in session. I’m gonna teach you all about the birds and the villainous bees.”  Hawks shoves him. He deserves it.