Chapter Text
“Oh look, there’s your boyfriend,” Shigaraki says snidely as the YouTube video he and Spinner were watching suddenly spits out an ad for the latest Hawks MV that looks pretty much as fake as all his rest.
Touya doesn’t even look up from tuning his bass. “Not my boyfriend.”
“Not what EntertainmentJapan is saying~” Toga sing-songs, holding up her phone and waving it at him.
Touya sees the now-familiar photo of himself kabedoning Hawks at the airport, looking as though he’s patting his cheek with the airplane ticket, and drops his head and groans.
(That moment had lasted barely a minute, and he hadn’t even actually patted Hawks’ cheek with that ticket—he had been gesturing, and it had just brushed past the idol’s cheek.
The kabedoning—
Okay, he had gotten a little heated because as far as he could tell, this asshole idol from his dad’s former company had cut him in the airport line.
And no, he doesn’t care if first class gets privileges or whatever—the number on Hawks’ ticket had not been Group 1, and Touya had been there first!
Also, he just fucking hates idols—
Except Shouto, of course.
Total power move to join All Might Entertainment, their father’s most hated rival entertainment company.
Although he still has to contractually give his little brother a hard time about it—it’s his eldest brother rights and his duty as an indie label artist to give idols hell.
At least Shouto and his group wrote their own lyrics and songs sometimes—Hawks on the other hand hasn’t put out a single original song since his debut.
And there’s all sorts of rumors of exactly how he had shot straight up to the top, and then why he had left Endeavor Records so suddenly—
Not that Touya really heeds any of those rumors, they happen about anyone who rises too quickly.
But still, even if the man looked sinfully good dancing on stage and crooning bland lyrics, Touya has no respect for artists who don’t make their own work, let alone those who used to work for Endeavor Records.
Even if his old man no longer runs it, he still hates it for all it tried to bury.
And even if Hawks left for a smaller studio, who knew exactly why he had decided to leave.)
“You two are also on the front page of Japan Times’s Entertainment section,” Magne adds, grinning and also showing him her phone.
Touya doesn’t bother to lift his head up from the table. “Maybe in a week, some TikTok influencer will have a cheating scandal and bump both of us off the front page.”
“I don’t know, people love a good love-hate celebrity relationship, and you guys are it, right now,” Magne says, scrolling through her phone.
Toga giggles, moving her oversized sleeve to cover her mouth. “It’s all the sparks that fly when you glare at each other,” she says dreamily. “The two of you look like you’re two seconds from either stabbing each other or fucking each other’s brains out.”
“There are no sparks, and I never want to hear that phrase out of your mouth again.” Touya shudders and points at her.
Toga sticks her tongue out at him, while Shigaraki drawls, “I don’t know about any of that, but I do think it’s super weird that you recognized him at glance in the airport. When he was wearing a fucking mask. ”
“We’ve met him before! All of us did—at that studio event with Nagant Studios, remember?” Touya protests, throwing a chip at Shigaraki.
“Uh, sure, but I still couldn’t pick him out of a crowd like certain weirdo bassists I know—hang on,” Shigaraki says, fishing out his vibrating phone and answering it.
(It’s not weird that he automatically recognized Hawks despite the mask—that wavy blonde hair had still been obvious even squashed under a baseball cap, and those gold eyes with eyeliner were killer.
Which all just made him a very pretty hack.)
“Twice, slow down, what—there’s a meeting? If it’s about the album, we’re still trying to decide on the final song—Oh god, it’s not about how our last livestream had Toga listing out all her favorite serial killers, right? You guys said we could talk about whatever we wanted, and it was Toga’s turn that day—huh, really, okay. Okay—yeah, alright, we’ll be there,” Shigaraki says, frowning as he hangs up, before turning back to them. “So Twice says they want us all at the studio.”
“For what?” Spinner demands, standing up and clumsily sticking his laptop in his bag.
Shigaraki shrugs, pulling his hoodie up and stuffing Spinner’s phone into his bag. “Something about a collaboration.”
Toga’s eyes narrow. “It’s not Shie Hassakai again, is it?”
“Fuck Shie Hassakai,” Touya says immediately. “It can’t be that—they stole our fucking songs last time.”
“Yeah, no, it’s not them, or else Kurogiri and me are going to have words ,” Shigaraki scowls.
“Well as long as it’s not them or the Meta Liberation League, we’re probably good,” Touya says, stretching. “Those guys are the worst. We can probably handle anyone else.”
--
Touya quickly realizes how he doomed all of them with his mouth when they walk into the conference room and see a frowning Hawks sitting there with his nervous manager.
His feelings of trepidation are completely validated when Mr. Compress happily announces the studio’s latest plan.
“—and since we’ll soon be releasing your guys’ newest album, and Nagant Records would like to help burnish theirs and Hawks’ image some more, it seems like the perfect time to take advantage of all the attention we have from Dabi and Hawks’ interaction to sell some fanservice and get some good publicity,” Mr. Compress beams at all of them.
Before Touya can even protest, Hawks speaks up, not even looking at Touya. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Mr. Compress tilts his head. “Why not? You’ve done fake fanservice with other people before.”
“Yes, but—come on, everyone thinks we hate each other,” Hawks says, gesturing over at Touya. “Who’s going to buy us suddenly getting along?”
“I’ve heard you’re a good actor,” Mr. Compress says, smiling over at Hawks’ manager. “And besides, there’s a certain kind of fan who loves relationships like that, and thankfully that crosses over with both yours and the League of Villains’ main fanbase.”
“Seriously?” Shigaraki asks, his lips curling.
Toga elbows him in the side and chides, “I told you guys~”
“That may be the case, but—I still don’t think this is very well thought out,” Hawks says, shaking his head.
(Okay, everything Hawks is saying is exactly what Touya is thinking, but it’s still pissing him off.
It’s the way he’s barely looking at him, not even acknowledging him there—
What, does he think he’s better than Touya?
Hawks might have a few songs that topped the Oricon charts and won those Count Down TV and Music Station contests a few times, but Touya is willing to bet all his savings that Hawks hasn’t written a single one of his songs, while Touya has written the lyrics for the grand majority of the League of Villains’ entire repertoire.
That fucker.)
“Don’t you have anything to say?” Hawks asks, now finally turning and deigning to look at Touya. “You can’t possibly want this any more than I do.”
Touya crosses his arms and looks down his nose at him. “What I’m getting from this, is that you very specifically don’t want to do fake fanservice with me .”
Mr. Compress immediately gestures towards Twice. “That’s a yes from Dabi, note that down.”
“That is not a yes, I just want to understand here what makes me so unappealing,” Touya says, raising his chin.
Hawks’ eyes narrow. “You’re the one who decided to confront me at the airport, not me.”
“ You were cutting the line.”
“Business class gets to line up in Group 1 regardless!”
“Not when they’re late— ”
“Five minutes late, you pretentious edgelord—”
“Oh, you want to go there? Says the man who has never written a song for himself in his entire career— ”
“Boys, simmer down,” Kurogiri says mildly, sipping his tea and gesturing for both of them to sit back down. “I see you both have very strong feelings about this—I also believe it is a good idea, thank you, Atsuhiro.”
“No problem, boss,” Mr. Compress replies with a wink.
“Of course, we won’t force you if you are opposed—but I do ask both of you to consider it a bit longer,” Kurogiri continues with a smile. “Lady Nagant is in agreement with me as well.”
Hawks opens his mouth to probably say some other snotty thing, when his phone rings, and when he looks down, his expression twists. “…I better get this.”
“Alright, take your time,” Kurogiri says cheerfully, looking around the table as Hawks gets up and leaves the room. “Would any of you like some refreshments? I bought a new blend of Assam tea that is quite nice.”
“Sure,” Shigaraki shrugs.
“I’d love a cup, boss,” Mr. Compress grins at him.
While the rest of them are busy clamoring out their tea orders, Touya slips out of the room and heads down the hall looking for Hawks.
(It’s rude of him to just leave like that.
So high and mighty—who does he think he is?
Does he think the rest of them don’t also have business that this bullshit meeting is interrupting?
They’re in the middle of writing a new album right now!
They don’t even have the last song written, so Touya hasn’t even gotten started on the lyrics for that—
Shigaraki is just being an indecisive bitch, not knowing whether to keep Spinner’s keyboard solo or Toga’s drum solo.
Touya had told him it was going to mess with band dynamics when Shigaraki and Spinner had started dating—)
“I told you, I’m not—no, not even if you toss in extra screentime— no, not even if you make me the lead! And not even if you fire me either, I’m not going to sleep with you, and that’s final. ”
Touya freezes as he spots Hawks frantically hissing into his cellphone, his hair a mess from the way he’s tugging at it.
(What the fuck.
Is someone—is some director propositioning Hawks?
And not just propositioning, fucking threatening him if he doesn’t sleep with them?
Oh hell no.
That’s not fucking okay.)
Before he even knows what he’s doing, Touya has strode over there, snatched Hawks’ cell phone out of his hand, and doesn’t acknowledge Hawks’ squawk of outrage as he snarls into the phone, “Listen here, fuckface: Hawks is off-limits, you understand me?”
There’s an in-drawn breath at the other end, and an oily voice demands, “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m Dabi,” Touya replies, fending off Hawks’ attempts to grab his phone back. “Otherwise known as Himura Touya, and before that, known as Todoroki Touya.”
The man at the other end chokes. “ Todoroki— ”
(Even if his bastard of a dad got to just walk away from the agency quietly in exchange for their mother’s divorce from him and college funds for all four of them, that doesn’t mean word doesn’t get around about exactly what went down.
And Touya himself had been a key part of that, making an entire video about their hellscape of family life and threatening to release it if their mother’s demands weren’t met.
Also, these days, their mother was doing quite well for herself as a journalist, and she had made a name for herself by taking on cases of people in power abusing their authority with people underneath them.
And he was more than happy to use that threat on some scumbag who was actually trying to coerce people for sex.
Hell, being able to stomp on people like that was more than enough to make being fake fanservice partners with Hawks bearable.
Even attractive, maybe.)
“Yeah, that’s right,” Touya says, his curling into a savage grin as he relishes the choking sounds on the other end of the line. “ That Touya. One call to the right sources, or even a tweet, and ohhhhh, you will not be having a good time after that. Or a career for that matter.”
The director at the other end of the line manages to somewhat draw himself together. “This has nothing to do with you— ”
“It has everything to do with me,” Touya cuts in, his voice harsh. “His name is about to be tied with mine, so everything he does is now bound to me and mine. And do you think I’m the kind of person who would ever become a sugar baby for the likes of you ?”
While the director was busy having what sounded like a heart attack at the other end, Touya says smugly, “Be seeing you in the papers, Director,” before ending the call and tossing the phone to a gobsmacked Hawks.
Hawks catches his phone, stares at it, and then stares at Touya for a long time before saying slowly, “Not that I’m not grateful, but—you want to be fanservice partners with me that bad? Don’t you think I’m a fucking fake?”
“Oh, like hell I want to be your fanservice partner,” Touya scoffs. “And you are a fucking fake—I just hate fuckers who abuse their authority over others more. This was for your new drama, right? What was that—some superhero drama, right? And that was that drama’s director?”
“…yeah,” Hawks admits as Touya pulls out his phone and starts Googling names. “Yeah, he’s a piece of work—and I’m pretty sure I’m not the first person he’s pulled this on.”
“Mm, with this kind of trash, there’s always more garbage underneath the surface,” Touya agrees, finding the name and texting it plus some other choice words on what happened to his mother.
“But you do know that this means that you’re actually going to have to be my fanservice partner and at least convincingly act like you like me, right?” Hawks presses.
Touya looks at him, tucking his cellphone back into his pocket. “I’m well-aware. What? Worried that my acting skills aren’t up to par? You’d best worry for yourself there—I’ll be better than you in Wings of Love. ”
Hawks frowns. “…you watched that?”
“My sister did,” Touya says quickly. “I just have to act a little more than friendly with you, it’ll be fine. I have plenty of practice with not setting my band members on fire during livestreams even if they’re being little shits.”
“Don’t you mostly just sit in the corner of the room, brood, and occasionally make a snarky remark during those livestreams?” Hawks points out.
Touya’s eyebrows fly up. “What, you’ve watched one?”
Hawks coughs. “…Takahiro gave me some indication of what the plan might be before this meeting, and I wanted to see what I was getting into.”
(…That’s plausible.
Or maybe Hawks was hate-watching him the same way Touya hate-watched Hawks’ lame idol drama, who knows.
Whatever, the point was that if both of them were on the same page, they’d probably be able to figure something out.
They just needed to do so before Compress or any of the rest of the marketing and P.R. team got involved—god knows what terrible ideas they’d come up with to sell this newly viral fanservice.)
“…Sure,” Touya says, deciding to not pursue this line of questioning. “And our fans love it whenever I deign to make an appearance.”
“That might work for your band’s livestream, but I’m not sure how well it’s going to work for mine,” Hawks replies. “They’ll want some actual interaction.”
“As long as you don’t make me sing or play any of your songs, we’ll be fine.”
Hawks tilts his head. “Can you sing? I thought you only played the bass.”
“I can sing—just not that well,” Touya admits, placing a hand on his neck. “We have Magne and Shigaraki for vocals, after all.”
“Well—if you’re just playing in the background, that could work too…” Hawks muses, rubbing his chin.
“As long as it’s not any of the songs from your albums,” Touya says, crossing his arms.
Hawks’ lips press together, and he asks with an even voice, “What’s wrong with my songs?”
“To begin with, they’re not your songs,” Touya sneers. “Is there even a single one that you composed or wrote the lyrics to?”
Hawks’ eyes flick away. “…They’re not that bad…”
“ Let’s take off on wings/You make my heart sing ?” Touya hums, his lips curling.
Hawks winces. “…alright, some of them were definitely less—great than others. But—as if you guys don’t do covers,” he scoffs.
“Uh yeah, but we do covers of authentic artists like Blast or 21Dust, not songs that corporate workshopped and market-tested before slapping it on someone to sing,” Touya shoots back.
Hawks shifts in place before smirking. “Ah, you’re a Black Stones fan, I should have known.”
Touya raises his chin. “Yeah, it means my taste is impeccable. …oh no, let me guess, you’re a Trapnest fan?”
“Got it in one,” Hawks replies with a shit-eating grin, pointing at him. “Although I’m a bigger fan of K/DA.”
“Of course, you are,” Touya mutters under his breath.
(Stuck with a Trapnest fan and someone who shared his sister’s taste in bands?
God, Shigaraki was going to be making fun of him for the rest of their lives.)
Touya quickly shakes his head and says, “And no Trapnest or K/DA songs either.”
Hawks pulls his face into a pout, leaning into Touya’s space. “You’re really sucking all the fun out of a livestream,” he sighs, looking up at him with his golden eyes rimmed with black (is that kohl? It doesn’t look like standard eyeliner—). “Then I’m saying no Black Stones also.”
“Fine,” Touya says, not backing away.
“What fun songs are there even left?” Hawks considers, rubbing his chin. “It would be too easy to do one of your guys’ songs—maybe for a later livestream, definitely not for the first one. Guess we’ll have to go with the classics then. How do you feel about Kiss and Make Up ?”
(He’s not sure if he should focus on the fact that apparently Hawks has listened to the League’s music or on the fact that Hawks wants him to do the bass for Kiss and Make Up.
On one hand—he does know that song, Fuyumi has blasted it enough times that he can play it.
On the other, Shigaraki is for sure going to record it and play it back any time he argues with him about their song choices now.
Let alone what Toga will do—she may even start commenting on the livestream herself.
…but then again, there is almost nothing he could do on a fanservice livestream with Hawks that wouldn’t lead to mockery with the band, so maybe he should just compromise here and play that stupid song.
And as for Hawks listening to the League’s music—
Well, he had said before that he was researching them, and what better way to do that then by listening to their songs?
It’s not that strange, it’s pretty standard.)
“…I feel like if I don’t say yes to Kiss and Make Up , you’re going to pick something worse, so fine,” Touya sighs, sticking his hands in his pockets.
“Hey, Kiss and Make Up is a classic,” Hawks argues, frowning. “Also—what else should we do during the livestream? Work-out sessions?”
Touya glances down at his own noodly arms (when was the last time he had even been to a gym—it may have been that time that Natsu had some sort of two-for-one deal at his favorite gym and dragged him there) and then at Hawks’ arms that he has to admit are nicely muscled.
(He bets Endeavor Records had a special gym just devoted to Hawks since he had been their moneymaker for awhile.
Who knew, maybe even Nagant Studios had managed to squeeze together enough money to build a gym in their office just so Hawks wouldn’t have people gawking at him in a more public gym.
It took work to keep a body looking like that, after all—and although he’s pretty sure those abs Hawks had showed off on that terrible drama had been the result of a special diet and sucking in his stomach, those muscles sure aren’t.)
“I’m not really a gym rat,” Touya hedges.
“You can count my reps,” Hawks says sweetly with a smirk, lightly patting Touya’s shoulder.
Touya rolls his eyes, smacking his hand away. “More importantly—we need a story for why we’re suddenly friends and appearing on each other’s livestreams. Maybe your fans would buy the sudden change, but our LoV fans won’t.”
“Don’t make fun of my fans,” Hawks warns as he points at him before licking his lips. “Let’s see—it’s common knowledge that our companies are partnered together. Could we say that we met at a work event and managed to work through our problems?”
“Boring,” Touya says succinctly. “No one’s going to buy that—maybe something like—we realized at the airport that we’re a Blast fan and Trapnest fan, continued arguing about that, then kept arguing through text and stuff the entire time after that, and then—we decided that it’d be more fun to argue in person and kind of got along from there.”
“You think people are going to buy that ?” Hawks asks incredulously, staring at him.
Touya shrugs. “Let’s run it by the people in that conference first and see what they think.”
--
Everyone stares at both of them for awhile after Touya finishes off his story, and Hawks quickly jumps in to add with a wink tossed at Touya, “He’s still an edgelord asshole, but his lyrics are very good, and he’s seen all of Wings of Love. ”
“Because it was terrible, and it was like trying to take your eyes off of a trainwreck,” Touya interjects.
(Natsu said he had a problem when he had watched it for the second time, but it was just so bad that he hadn’t been able to absorb everything wrong with it the first time around, that’s all.
Not that Hawks needs to know that.)
Hawks elbows him with a fixed smile as Takahiro opens his mouth, and Touya quickly adds, “—but he did his best to make the scenes work for him. And—um, he sings really well. Even if his music is terrible.”
(And he’s not even lying there because Hawks’ voice is wasted on the garbage songs he’s churned out.
Obviously, it’s still gained him a ton of fans, but what could he be away from Endeavor Record’s cage?
He could probably ascend all the way to the top since he already has everything else needed—the charm, the voice, the dance skills, and those looks—
Not that Hawks’ head needs to be any bigger than it already is.)
Takahiro’s mouth clicks shut as he just stares at him along with the entire League, but Kurogiri simply smiles and sips his tea. “I’m so happy you two came around,” he says, his eyes dancing. “I’m sure it’ll be a fun and bonding experience for both of you!”
“And it’s a narrative that we can work with,” Mr. Compress beams at both of them before reaching out a hand to pat Takahiro on the shoulder. “What do you say, Takahiro-kun? Is it a story that Hawks’ fans will buy?”
“It’s—it’s workable,” Takahiro nods, biting his lip.
Shigaraki snorts, crossing his arms. “Maybe for you guys, but what about us? We need our bassist and lyricist around to finish the album, not off canoodling with a bird idol.”
“Aw, you do care,” Touya says with a sneer. “I thought you just wanted to write more techno songs without lyrics with Spinner over there.”
“At least Spinner can come up with quality music, unlike your bird idol over there—”
“Boys,” Kurogiri says mildly, giving them both a quelling glance. “Dabi’s main focus will still be the League’s new album of course, but for this to work, you will also need to have Hawks with the band sometimes.”
“Should be fun,” Toga grins, revealing her pointy teeth at Hawks. “Enemies to lovers~ Best trope ever!”
“Except in real life!” Magne laughs, clapping Touya’s shoulder. “You nabbed a pretty one there, Dabi!”
“For fanservice ,” Touya insists, then looks back at Hawks and arches his brow. “Well, pretty bird—you’re going to be hanging with the League of Villains for a while, how do you like that?”
Hawks smiles back at him, baring his teeth. “Fantastic,” he chirps, leaning back, his arms supported behind him. “I always wanted to be a villain.”
“Eugh,” Shigaraki pulls a face and pulls his hoodie up as Spinner pats him on the back. “Our fans are going to puke.”
“Nope,” Toga says with relish, holding out her phone where she has somehow already posted a picture snapped of Touya and Hawks sitting across from each other. “Look at the comments! Our fans are excited too!”
“Great, everyone has terrible taste,” Shigaraki bemoans, slumping forward.
“It could be okay, Tenko—wider audience, right?” Spinner consoles, glancing at both Touya and Hawks. “And—who knows, maybe Dabi can finally write convincing love song lyrics after this.”
“Oh, burn. ” Twice and Toga say at the same time and happily high-five each other.
Hawks doesn’t bother saying anything, taking out his phone to glance at the post Toga made, and Touya can’t help but crane his head to take a look.
[!!! more food yesssssss]
[look at that passionate held gaze!]
[i think theyre just glaring at each other]
[but toga captioned it lovebirds!]
[With quotes, so maybe she means it sarcastically?]
[could they be collabing?????]
[WTF no way, thatd be a disaster collabing with an idol who slept his way to the top]
[Right???? Gross]
[GTFO hawks haters]
[u gtfo u just mad its true]
[stfu troll]
The comments just mainly devolve into Hawks antis and Hawks fans screaming at each other while LoV fans are either wondering about the new album or taking sides themselves.
“Having second thoughts?” Hawks asks, glancing over his shoulder at Touya.
“From some antis? This is nothing compared to Shie Hassakai—fuck Shie Hassaki,” Touya replies.
“Fuck Shie Hassaki,” the entire band immediately also says, with Toga even taking out a butterfly knife and twirling it around ominously for a bit.
“…Fuck Shie Hassaki then,” Hawks says, an odd smile playing on his lips.
Shigaraki looks at Hawks, glances over at Touya, rolls his eyes, and says with a sigh, “…Fine. I guess he can stay. For now.”
“Good, good,” Kurogiri beams at all of them. “We’ll start making the arrangements then, and in the meanwhile, all of you focus on your album and promotions, and we’ll let you know when the first livestream should be!”
(It’ll probably be fine—it’s just a couple of livestreams and some social media and acting a little touchy-feely for the cameras, right?
Twice and Compress will handle all the social media like they’ve been doing—with Toga pitching in sometimes too—and he’ll just have to put up with Hawks for a bit.
He’ll get that rat bastard of a director fired, they’ll get their album promoted, Hawks can burnish his reputation a bit, and then they can all go their separate ways.)