MHA smut

Liquid Nitrogen

The thought irks him, so his tone is gruff and bitter. "Go. Home."

Hawks laughs, raising up his arms in defeat as he walks towards the window.

"Alright alright – no need to get so spicy. Nemuri says there's a hero meeting next week, something about provisional patrols until we have the league under control."

"Will you be attending?"

"Nah," Hawks laughs.

Enji thought as such. He settles in his chair, searching for a pen, and only looks back up when he realizes that Hawks is still here. He glares, annoyance slipping through his teeth.

"What?"

"Nothing," Hawks chews his thumbnail, one hand still on the windowsill. He grins. "Huh. Who knew you were hiding such a pretty face under all that fire?"

Subconsciously, Enji feels along the edge of his scar. He catches himself and nearly snarls, but Hawks is laughing on his way out the window, wings flapping hard enough to disturb the papers on his desk. Enji slams them back down with a huff.

Hawks has, for whatever reason, taken a liking to Enji since the battle with High-End. Enji won't pretend to understand Hawks, but he is not ignorant; Hawks will flirt with anything that breathes. It's infuriating in ways Enji can't describe.

The office is empty and quiet again.

~

Hawks does not show up to the government-mandated hero meeting. They leave his chair empty anyways, but Enji tells them he's not worth waiting for.

Enji isn't sure what peabrained moron would decide to attack an entire building full of heroes, but the league sure tries. Not the villains themselves, but with a short army of low-end artificial humans, (the cowards). These monsters are easier to defeat – or at least, Endeavor would say so.

A stronger Nomu approaches him from behind - but stops in its tracks, as if on the end of a leash. The beast gapes with those eerie, barren eyes, and Enji doesn't hesitate to blow out it's brains all over the pavement. Dumbass, it's a basic lesson in combat; hesitation will get you killed.

"An attack on a room full of pros?" Jeanist threads his sleeves back together as he says, "An odd strategy. Did they really think that would wipe us out?"

"You can't possibly know what's going on in their heads," Mount Lady says. She makes a cuck-coo sound, and the conversation turns more juvenile than what Enji is willing to participate in.

"Thoughts, Endeavor?" Edgeshot asks.

He has none. Their behavior is erratic and psychopathic, much like any other villain. He stares at what's left of that winged Nomu.

"This was too easy," Endeavor says.

"Speak for yourself!" Mount Lady whines, rubbing a sore shoulder.

The whole fight feels wrong, too hesitant, almost as if they're testing the waters. This was on hero ground, but what's next?

He returns to an empty home to shower off guts and soot and blood. Enji finds a red feather stuck to the back of his uniform, and absently sets it on the bathroom counter, curious as to how it got there, but too tired to think twice about it.

~

The smell of burning feathers has never left him. Whenever he lights a candle, trains in his dojo or works a hero shift, Enji is almost repulsed by the smell of his own fire. It's always there, a trigger memory of some kid tearing out all his wings, just for him.