The two of you were in the middle of a quiet evening at his apartment—he’d insisted you come over after a long mission, claiming you needed rest, but he was clearly the one more worn down.

You were curled up on the couch, one of his hoodies swallowing you whole, flipping through a movie selection neither of you was paying attention to.

“Just admit it,” you teased, “you wanted me to stay over.”

He scoffed from the kitchen. “Please. It’s not like I wanted to sleep with you or something—”

Silence.

Dead silence.

You slowly turned your head to look at him, one brow raised. His eyes widened a fraction as the words registered.

“…Shit,” he muttered, gloved hand flying up to cover his mouth.

You blinked. “What was that, birdbrain?”

“I—I meant—sleep like—nap! Blanket and snoring kind of sleep, not—ugh.” His fingers pressed harder against his mouth as if he could shove the words back in.

You couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. “Did Hawks just fluster himself?”

“I’m so off-duty right now,” he mumbled behind his hand, eyes narrowing like he was reconsidering every life decision that led to this moment.

You scooted closer and tugged his hand down gently. “You’re lucky I do want to sleep with you—both kinds.”

His face turned a shade redder than his feathers, and for once, Keigo Takami—pro hero Hawks—was speechless.