Liquid Nitrogen

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Written by:
surveycorpsjean

Summary:

Enji can't figure out why the hell Hawks keeps sleeping in his office.

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There's ash under his nails, dirt caked down his neck and sweat dried to his uniform.

If he's being honest, Enji isn't pleased about stopping by the office tonight.

Unfortunately it's easier to write up statements sooner rather than later, one more pile of paperwork on top of what he's already behind on. So he waves off the paramedics and limps into a taxi like any other Thursday.

Enji's assistant opens the elevator for him before he can reach the door. His daughters voice nags in the back of his mind; 'say thank you – ' but he's never done it before, and the elevator dings, and Enji steps through and tells himself, next time.

The agency is dead at this time of night. He's spent many evenings here, fruits of his own hard work – but such battles usually leave him seething in anger, hot hot and angry. Just angry.

He feels a bit dull instead. Watching the numbers on the elevator beep one by one, the urge to just go home has never been so heavy before. There are reflective panels on the elevator walls, and the sight of his own face still feels like someone else's.

Enji got exactly what he wanted, in a way he didn't want, and now he almost doesn't know what to do with himself.

It makes him hot with shame. The title of Number One didn't bring honor to his name, didn't fix his marriage, and didn't repair the damaged relationship with his family. He doesn't feel any better about himself.

He didn't even earn it.

Enji blows out hot air, and scrubs a hand over his eyes as he steps out of the elevator and into his office. He stops short, because there's a bird in his chair.

Big red wings slumped up and over the edge of his desk. Number Two hero, the second strongest in all of Japan – is dead asleep in his chair.

It surprises him dead still; hand still on the door handle and frozen in place.

Hawks looks exhausted, maybe a bit dirty and he's in Enji's office —

Enji blinks long and hard, and crosses his arms, deeply unamused.

"Can I help you?"

Hawks is curled up and spread out altogether, limbs pulled to his chest, but wings absolutely everywhere. He jerks a little, opening an eye as his wing makes a dull thud against the wall. Enji stares.

To Hawks' credit, he comes to rather quickly. It's for his own good, because Enji is moments away from throwing him out the window himself.

"You're in late," Hawks grins sleepily.

"Get out of my chair."

Hawks is lazy about it, sitting up straight and groaning as his joints pop. He yawns, stretching to one side and the other, "You smell like gunpowder. Wassit the league again?"

Enji feels his temple throb, but bites down on heat and practices some patience. Unfortunately, Enji has allocated a decent amount of respect for Hawks. Even if Hawks won't exercise any in return.

"Why are you here?"

Hawks shrugs, sliding around the desk as Enji all but tears the chair away from him.

"I was in the neighborhood."

"Take a nap at your own agency next time."

"But yours is so much nicer," Hawks grins, popping his hip on the desk. Enji doesn't know how he gets off acting so casual, like they've been buddy-buddy for years. He's never seen so much of Hawks in the last five years, than he has since All Might retired.

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