Chapter Text
“Tilt your head a bit. Other way. Perfect! Now hold.”
Dabi stared down the camera with blazing blue eyes as the photographer did his job. He was dressed in black leather pants that grabbed onto his muscular thighs in a way he knew people liked. A distressed white shirt and long trench coat were also part of the outfit. Janky black platform boots that made it easier to look down at people.
“Okay, let's take a break.” The photographer said
Dabi's posture slouched lightly and he wandered over to his chair. He sat down with little decorum.
“Here you go.” One of the photographer's assistants said, holding out a chilled water bottle.
“Thank you,” Dabi said gruffly as he grabbed the bottle. The girl squeaked before rushing off at the photographer's call. Dabi held the bottle in his hand and took a long sip. He supposed it was probably cold due to the fact that part of it was somewhat frozen. Due to his stupid fucking ice constitution he couldn't really feel cold. Able to withstand the cold better than some people could ever dream of. It's great until you realize that means his own fucking fire quirk burns him.
“These are looking amazing.” The photographer cheered loudly
Dabi didn't care if they looked all that amazing. As long as he got paid he cared very little. His sense of shame died with who he used to be. Plus any sense of self-doubt was lovingly beat out of him. If not by his dear father, then the harshness of the streets that whipped him into shape. He only recently was able to eat regularly, which meant he was able to work out regularly. It's funny how he went from a knobby teen to the filled-out man he is today. His phone pinged and he looked down with very little interest. Dabi took it out of his pocket.
Agent Fuckface: Don't forget the shoot tomorrow with Pro Hero Hawks.
You: k
Dabi sighed lightly. Right, for some reason they decided Hawks needed more publicity and that the best way to do that was to have him do a photoshoot with Japan's “Gothic Hottie”. Dabi thought it was stupid seeing as Hawks is literally the number 3 hero. How much publicity does a man need? He already had a high approval rating (Higher than Endeavour. A fact Dabi found to be hilarious) so he certainly didn't need to gain any more approval. If he was shooting to beat All Might it’s a lost cause. That man had so much national and international acclaim no one could feasibly beat his approval rating. Dabi supposes he doesn't really care. They're paying him a hefty chunk of money to pose with the bird. Money needs to come from somewhere and Dabi would love to be able to pay rent this month…Not that he'd had to worry too much about making rent since he gained national popularity and became a highly requested model. It was just a really hard habit to kick. You spend three years on the streets and any amount of money and shelter is precious.
“Okay Dabi, just one more session, and we're done for the day.” The photographer said
“Cool,” Dabi said as he stood, handing off the now empty water bottle as he went back to the photo setup.
Dabi went home that night, slinking through the shadows. He didn't care if someone tried to mug him, after all, his flames were strong so really he'd be mugging them. You get used to the shadows and how to not get bothered. It wasn't the worst kind of town, but Dabi did prefer the paparazzi didn't find him. He spent more energy hiding from them these days. That was almost hilarious of a thought. His building was plain. His fans would like to believe he lived in a penthouse somewhere at the height of luxury. Dabi didn't need that. He was rich once( technically is now ) so the reminder of his childhood wouldn't be appreciated. Besides his middle-class fucking one-bedroom apartment was good enough for him.
Dabi finds himself climbing the stairs and entering his apartment without much thought as he starts to think about the shoot tomorrow. He had a day off after that, then his agent said he may be shipped on a plane to New York for the International Fashion Competition. If he gets enough votes from the citizens of Japan to represent their nation he'll spend an entire week doing that. It would be his first international event. He isn't exactly excited about it. He absolutely hates planes due to his motion sickness, among other things. Hell, he didn't even have a passport so unless his agent shits one out he isnt even sure he can fly to New York. He'd be surprised if he did win though, there were a lot of conventionally attractive people who were far more popular on the vote. Dabi toes off his shoes, putting them carefully by the door. He then takes off his jacket and throws it on a random chair as he passes. He'd forget where it was later but honestly, he was too tired to care at the moment. He enters the kitchen and hums to himself as he looks at his options. He had leftover takeout from last night, he supposed that would work since he didn't feel up to cooking. He usually loved to cook so this was an off day for him. Dabi took out the cold bowl of udon and gently warmed it with his quirk. He had a microwave but he didn't use it due to the lack of need. It came with the apartment. He found this was something that didn't melt his skin off. So at least there was that. Not using his quirk regularly like this led to it building up under his skin and it was a very unpleasant feeling. If he doesn't let it out in some way it'll burst out in a massive wild mess. After he slurped up his udon, he discarded the trash and slumped down onto the couch. He took a deep breath, the staples in his chest rattling as he exhaled heavily. It was a feeling one had to get familiar with and he's had since he was 16. Dabi lazily pulled out his phone, a rather simple device but it worked for him. He brought up Twitter with slight disinterest. Naturally, he'd been tagged half a dozen times on things but he didn't care to check. He quickly gets bored and lightly drops his phone into his chest. He then stares at the ceiling for a moment like it'd help him feel more human. More alive. Which…is ironic if you consider that he legally is dead. (Yet all these modeling gigs don't even check if he's a real person. )
Dabi was a bit afraid that his family would recognize his ugly mug in a random magazine. He was afraid that they would pound on his door demanding he return to their shitty family. Though, if that were to happen he could just fake his second death. It'd be less believable but he could be in another country faster than they could figure it out again. He does like the little life he's got going so restarting again would be tiresome. Perhaps, because none of his siblings or his dad came for him, they didn't give enough of a fuck about him to chase ghosts. His mom got the free pass, seeing as she was locked in a hospital. Hard to track him down and demand he come back. The thing about the Todoroki family is that everyone is selfish in their own way. Their father is driven by his own need to best All Might, driven so far off the cliff it was a wonder he didn't crash and burn. He bought his wife and made kids he didn't really want. His mom held close to Shoto until she burnt his face off, she wanted to keep him all to herself so Enji would fuck off. Fuyumi was desperately trying to get a happy family to the point she was willing to forgive the unforgivable for her own fantasy. Natsuo was more than ready to live for himself when the opportunity presented itself, he didn't care who he left behind. Shoto…oh poor baby Shoto was still trying to find himself and push away their dad. Dabi hadn't actively seen them since he was thirteen but in the roughly 8 years he's been awake he kept tabs on them. He couldn't shake that part of him that cared for his family. If anything it was vindicating to mock Endeavour. He feels his phone buzz and he lazily brings it up so he can see what's up. Of course, it has to be his annoying ass agent. Dabi would get a new one, but then he'd have to jump through the legally dead bullshit. His current agent had been the one to pull him off the shady side of modeling and was a shady ass man to begin with.
Agent Fuckface: Make sure to keep in a good weight. You're looking a bit round.
You: k
Dabi raised an eyebrow, this prick seemed to think he could control Dabi and his body. By destroying his body image or whatever. Jokes on him, it was already destroyed. He wasn't sure when he stopped caring about his physical appearance. Perhaps the particularly suggestive photos they took of him when he had just stumbled out of a three-year coma and been on the streets for a few months as a 16-year-old. He kind of just went with it after that. Also, he didn't have a good body image to begin with, he never considered himself to be all that attractive. Especially with his scars. He can't talk now, apparently people like when he models shit. They probably have a mental illness but honestly who the fuck doesn't. Perhaps in a way he was so far removed from his body that it didn't really matter anymore. His body hadn't been his own since the coma. He was 13 in a 16-year-old's body, it was unbelievably depersonalizing. His body was also held together by hopes, dreams…and a mega fuck ton of staples.
Dabi decides to head to bed, after all he has a photoshoot with Japan's number one bachelor. Dabi also would like to selectively ignore his spot on that list, as acknowledging that people apparently found him attractive would be too much to ask. Plus he was certain, based on interviews alone, that Hawks would be exhausting to be around. He enters his bedroom and lazily pulls off enough layers until it's suitable for sleep. He then plugs in his phone and slumps down on his futon. Dabi rubs his eyes lightly (lightly because if he was rough he'd tear something) and sighs. Dabi wasn't sure what kept him going, perhaps it was his resentment for his father. Or his stubbornness to die. Dying would've been too easy really. He doesn't know if modeling really filled any gaps, but he found it was something he liked doing most of the time. He didn't care if it was only for adults. He'd done enough shirtless and suspect photo shoots to know how they go. He hasn't done specifically porn since he turned 19, those images were likely still circulated in the underground and he found he felt no shame. With that wonderful thought, he resolved to stop having existential thoughts and try to sleep. Of course, it wasn't that simple, but he didn't want to think too hard about life tonight.
Dabi arrived at the location before the bird, despite his bad boy look, he had punctuality beat into him. Hawks clearly had no such beatings, as he arrived fashionably late. First impression, the bird boy is hot. Like, properly attractive with sun-kissed skin and fluffy blonde hair. If he wasn't a Pro Hero, Dabi'd be tempted to take him somewhere private.
“Sorry I'm late, I ran into a villain on the way here.” Hawks explained
“It's okay Hawks-san. We understand.” The photographer said, the woman quick to please
Hawks surveyed him with sharp golden eyes and Dabi just stared at him boredly. Hawks was then thrown into a different room for outfitting. Dabi had already undergone the pleasure. He quite liked the black leather jacket they had put on him. A red distressed T-shirt with a low v-neckline. Baggy ripped jeans adorned with chains. Sturdy black combo boots. The hairdresser had fluffed up his black hair as well. Hawk's outfit was similar. Though he had a well-fitting blue shirt under a denim jacket with leather pants that hugged his lower body in a way that should be illegal. Dabi knows a good piece of ass when he sees one.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Hawks said with a bow
“Yeah, sure,” Dabi responded also with a bow.
“I'm actually a big fan of yours,” Hawks says
“Oh…Yeah?” Dabi asked
“Yeah! You're ho- Really great at modeling. Especially in Meluh Magazine.” Hawks said quickly his face turning pink
“Well now birdie, you'd almost make me believe you like the look of me.” Dabi teases and Hawks turn completely red.
“Dabi, Hawks. Time to get started.”
The first pose had Hawks standing behind a seated Dabi, his red wings framing the man in front of him. It almost looked possessive in the way Hawks was wrapped around him. Dabi was looking at the camera, a taunting look on his face. The photographer was an energetic one, the kind that usually got on his nerves. It was strange, usually he was annoyed when posing with others. But having Hawks be so close to him was different. He noticed himself paying attention to the other man's breath and his presence. He wasn't sure why he felt so in tune with the other but he is.
“Hmmm…Oooh! Hawks, would it be possible for you to lean more on top of Dabi?”
“Sure.”
Hawks leaned forward and pressed his chest against Dabi's back. His arms wrapping around the front and his wings circling the pair. Dabi wasn't sure how to feel but there was something about it that he couldn't get enough of. Hawks eventually rested his chin against Dabi's shoulder. The photographer loved it and took half a dozen photos.
“Cool, let's do something else! How about the two of you stand together over here! Oh like this!.”
Hawks pulled away and Dabi felt a bit disappointed. He wasn't sure why exactly, just something about the way Hawks had so easily leaned against him. Most people were intimidated by him. He's extremely unique and different. Even in a quirk world. He's scary to those unfamiliar with a hard aesthetic. So before when he modeled with others they weren't so comfortable. Hawks isn't fakely confident. Perhaps he really was a fan of Dabi. The rest of the photoshoot was fine, even if Dabi's skin tingles from Hawks’ touch…He was convinced it was just the grafts acting up. Yeah, that's probably it. Stupid things barely stayed on half the time. Dabi was finally leaving for the day when a hand grabbed his wrist.
“Hey wait! That was fun. We should do this kind of thing again.” Hawks said
“Sure. Whatever.” Dabi said
“Here's my number.” Hawks continued passing him a sticky note
“Thanks…I guess.” Dabi said and Hawks beamed at him.
Dabi shook it off and left. When he got home he was tired and very hungry. He opened his fridge and grabbed some ingredients to make something simple for dinner. He decided to stir-fry some shit. As he was eating he went to the trouble of putting Hawks' number in his phone.
You: This is Dabi.
Bird: Hey there!
Dabi had a message from his agent as well
Agent Fuckface: The flight to New York is a go. Pack your bags tomorrow. Should be a full week. I've also acquired a passport for you to use.
You: K
Greeeaaat... He gets to spend 15 hours on a plane. Isn't that so fun? Then a full week in New York of all places. Honestly, he wasn't sure why he even does this shit other than the fact he needs the money. Perhaps he should've chosen villainy, at least then he'd get to stay in Japan.
Also, how the fuck did he win the vote?