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The League’s hideout wasn’t always a mess. Actually, it was, but not always the same type of mess. It wasn’t always screaming, running around, broken tables and punched walls; it could also be empty rooms, dirty glasses and cold cigarettes with the light of the late afternoon filling the quarters with a soft golden glow. During the slowest days, it could be hard to keep track of everyone. Their life would get so intense at times; these long periods of release were necessary to the good functioning of the group. They just all needed to blow off the steam every once in a while and it didn’t matter how. So it wasn’t that surprising to find only two people in the old hideout on that late Sunday afternoon.
Dabi was lying on the second-hand black couch, playing a game on his phone. “Playing” was probably an overstatement, for he mostly just taped his screen almost randomly at this point, with half closed eyes and a blurred consciousness. Time was going both incredibly slow and incredibly fast. It was already 4 pm, but it was also only 4 pm. He didn’t remember how long it had been since Compress and Kurogiri had left the building, leaving him seemingly alone. Magne, Toga, Twice and Spinner had all left before lunchtime he was sure of that. The other two men had stayed around a little longer, shamelessly flirting at the bar right in front of Dabi, before leaving together. Could have been seconds or hours ago. That left only him, his boredom and … well, potentially someone else.
Dabi had no idea if Shigaraki Tomura was still in the building or not. He hadn’t seen him leave, but it could be hard to keep track with him. For a guy so chaotic, so starved for the public attention, he could be surprisingly low and quiet when he wanted to. Dabi had seen him walking out in crowded places with nothing but a hoodie over his head, and remain completely unnoticed as if he was just another ordinary young man living an ordinary life. Dabi couldn’t process that. He couldn’t process that Tomura wasn’t attracting everyone’s attention at every time, because nothing about this boy was ordinary.
Dabi slid his phone back in his pocket and rested his hands behind his nape. With a deep sight, he tried very hard to focus on that paint crack on the ceiling above him, trying to think about something else than his boss but it was too late and he already knew it. Thinking about Tomura was like slipping down a hill. If Dabi didn’t stop himself in time, there was no going back from the fall. He bit his lips.
It had been a little more than four months since Dabi had met him, and he still couldn’t quite figure him out. That bothered him. Dabi was usually pretty good reading people, at getting a hold of them right away. Strengths, weaknesses, fears, limits, desires … just what they were all about. It was a talent Dabi had used all his life to make his way through the underground world, and he could still use it on every other member in the league. But Tomura was a blur.
He is unique.
He suddenly felt like he needed a cigarette. After some fumbling in his pockets, praying that he hadn’t left his pack in his coat back in his room, he grabbed one, lit it with his finger and took a deep inhale. He watched the smoke rise above him, and without thinking, tried to grab it with his free hand. But it only slipped through his finger. He is like smoke … always moving, always changing, evolving … I can see him, but I can’t touch him … Since Dabi has first laid his eyes on him, this boy had been paradox after paradox, one contradiction after another. He was the loudest and quietest soul, insanely childish and insanely competent, immature and yet more experienced than all of them combined … Skinny and breakable, but powerful and destructive… Chaotic maniac and genius strategist. Repulsive and attractive.
Dabi knew that letting his mind wander down this road was a terrible idea, but he was already too far-gone. He had been too far-gone months ago when he saw Tomura’s face for the first time. Just like the boy himself, that face didn’t make sense. It should have been too chaotic to be beautiful … with his huge red eyes and thin chapped lips … his soft but cracked skin … and yet. It was just so unique in all of its wildness and delicacy, that Dabi couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially at night.
Since that day, Dabi had desperately been trying to get glimpses of that face again, which wasn’t that hard because after that first reveal Tomura was more comfortable walking around the hideout without that cold dead hand covering him. Before he had a chance to realise it, Dabi had found himself seeking his boss’s presence more and more, always hoping to see him moping in a corner when he walked into a room. It had become like a game for him, he would walk to Tomura, say the first snarky thing that crossed his mind and observe the result. It was different every time. Sometimes, Tomura would just smirk and snap back with something even more brutal that completely destroyed Dabi and got everyone in the room to go daaaaaamn! Or maybe he would suddenly get furious and jump at Dabi throat even though what he had said to him wasn’t worse than before. Other times, Tomura would just straight up ignore him, barely muttering an answer without even looking at him. This was Dabi’s least favourite type of reaction. His favourite type was when Tomura blushed and stuttered, screeching at him to go fuck himself. Dabi liked to see his hair go wild, his pupils dilate and his cheek turn pink. Maybe that was why he always teased him so much. Maybe he just wanted to see Tomura blush every day.
Dabi felt some weird shiver go through his body and a smile grow on his lips. He was thinking about the times he had managed to get close to Tomura. Purposely brushing his shoulder when he could … provocatively blocking his way when they met in the narrow corridor … wrestling with him on the floor when they both had too much to drink … grabbing his arm and pressing him against the cold wall of a dark alley as they both ran away from the police after a job … and sometimes … even resting his head against his shoulder when they just sat alone on that very same couch after a very long job. So many beautiful wonderful times, and yet, during none of these times Dabi felt like he had truly touched Tomura. Not the way he wanted to touch him at least. I really hope he is still here …
Almost as a direct response to his thoughts, Dabi suddenly heard one of upstairs’ doors creak as it opened. Dabi’s smile grew even wider than before when he heard a very distinctive footstep above his head, then down the stairs. He put out his cigarette and turned just in time to see Shigaraki Tomura walk into the room and stop in his track as soon as he saw Dabi lying on the couch. His blue hair was so messy that, if it wasn’t for the very dark circle under his eyes, one could have thought the boy had just woke up from a nap. His eyes were wide in surprise, and, with his usual black pants, he was wearing a dark blue sweater that was obviously too large for his skinny frame and was already falling of his shoulder a little. He looked so young like this. What a sight … Dabi’s breathing fastened. But from where he was, he could also see the scars, the two on his face, the ones covering his neck, and even some on his collarbone and shoulders. These scars were another mystery that Dabi was dying to investigate. No one here has an easy life … and I shouldn’t really be the one talking when it comes to scars … but still. How can someone so young already be so damaged? Mines all happened in one big … “incident.” But his … they’re all so different. Some are very old and some are very fresh … some are self-inflicted… some are from bullets … some from knives … some from burns … How did you get so many Tomura? And more importantly, will you let me touch them one day? Ooof fuck … not now Dabi …
Dabi swallowed and blinked a few time to get himself together. In front of him, Tomura still hadn’t moved and looked at him with the same surprise and confusion for a few minutes before his eyes slowly shift back to a weird mix of boredom and irritation.
“Oh, you’re still here …” he said with that soft monochord voice of his.
“So are you …” Dabi replied with a bold smile, “Funny how you and I often found ourselves alone together these days …”
Tomura scoffed and looked away, but Dabi didn’t miss the pink on his neck … as well as some freshly new scratches. Dabi frowned and felt a weird twisting pain in the pit of his stomach. Tomura was a video game junky, so usually wasn’t surprising or worrying for him to be locked in his room for hours, days even, without anyone hearing from him or seeing him. But sometimes, when everyone else joked about what an addict he was, Dabi could see Kurogiri stay very silent, with a worried look on his face. And then, while the rest of them kept laughing Dabi could also see him quietly going up to Tomura’s room and either immediately going back with a relieved expression on his face, or stay up there for more than an hour. When he stayed that long he either came back exhausted, pleased or even more anxious than before. And so Dabi had understood that Tomura wasn’t just playing video games alone in his room.
“Hey! I’m talking to you ashtray! What the fuck is this?”
Dabi snapped out of his thoughts and saw Tomura standing by the bar, next to three huge wooden boxes. Dabi frowned and sat up on the couch. Focusing really hard, he now remembered Kurogiri vaguely saying something to him about these before leaving, but he couldn’t remember what it was for the life of him.
“Uuuuuh … fan mail?” he tried, raising his eyebrows.
Tomura rolled his eyes and let out a deep sight. As he did, he let his head fall back for a bit, and Dabi loved the way the blue curles moved around his face, and the way his neck arched so gracefully. The boy leaned down to have a look at the inscription on the top of the first box and announced: “It’s from Giran. I commanded him some stuff last time I met him …”
“Ooooh, new toys for us?” Dabi asked with an overly excited voice, getting up to walk to Tomura. When the boy straightened his back the other man was suddenly next to him and a lot closer than necessary and it made him jump a little. He took a few steps back and almost tripped on his own feet, resting his back against the bar at the last second.
“Wow, hey! Easy there!” Dabi smiled, a hand already out ready to catch his boss.
“I’m FINE!” Tomura scoffed, “And no, not toys. Just some basic stuff like food, hygiene product and other stuff that we need to survive … maybe some guns as well.”
With one swift movement, Tomura fully grabbed the lock on each box and Dabi watched them quickly rust and fall to dust with a morbid yet eager fascination. While his boss checked the content, he decided to enjoy the other mans presence for a little bit.
“My, my … you got spoiled mopehead …”
Tomura tried to ignore him but Dabi saw him twitch, and that was enough for him to push his boss’s buttons a little more. He leaned down a bit to try to get a good look at the face behind the blue curls, hoping to see it blush already.
“Hey … How do you get Giran to give you so much stuff?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really,” Dabi shrugged, “I’m just curious. Do you pay him?”
“No,” Tomura sighed actually stopping what he was doing, to speak to Dabi like he was a fucking five years old, “He is the one paying us. Either with “toys” like you say, or with products like these, or with straight up money. Are you done?”
As an answer, Dabi took one step closer and maintained eye contact with the smaller man when he asked with a low voice. “Is he your sugar daddy?”
“FUCKING ..!”
Dabi dodged just in time the can of beans that Tomura was throwing at him.
“D-don’t say shits like that!” the boy quite literally whined.
Boy. Boss. It was funny how easily he shifted from one to the other in Dabi’s mind. But he was just fitting both words perfectly, sometimes at the same time. Dabi still didn’t understand how someone who deals with the yakuza world on daily basis could also react so emotionally to such a stupid joke. For a few seconds, he was tempted to experiment some more and push the button a little further. He wanted to say that he was only worried for him and that a pretty boy like him should be careful while dealing with nasty greedy old men. But something stopped him.
In front of him, Tomura was looking right back at him with wide tensed eyes, nervously chewing his already fucked lips. But what really got Dabi’s attention were his hands, anxiously fidgeting with the neckline of his sweater, dangerously close to his neck. His twitching fingers were careful not to destroy the textile but mostly careful not to creep all the way up to the skin, no matter how much they wanted too. Dabi suddenly felt unbelievably stupid. He doesn’t want to scratch it in front of me … fuck I can’t believe myself … fuck I saw the fresh scars, I saw that literally just had a breakdown and I still … how inconsiderate can one guy be?
He tried to soften his eyes to give a non-verbal apology to Tomura, but it was hard to tell how the other man received it. Somehow, even without that stupid hand on his face, Dabi still couldn’t read him. But at least, he let go of his neckline and focused back on the boxes after giving one last look to Dabi. The black-haired wondered if he should say something … like actually apologizing out loud. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I keep messing with you like that, but you’re such a mystery to me, I want to see every possible side of you, and it stops me from thinking straight. In every fucking sense of the word.
“Hey, I’m just curious,” Tomura suddenly asked him, snapping Dabi out of his thoughts, “How long have these boxes benn sitting right in front of your lazy ass without you thinking about, I don’t know, taking care of it?”
“Uuuuuuuh … I’m sorry?”
Tomura just rolled his eyes for what seemed to be the seventh time since he walked into the room, and with a grunt, he picked up the first box. Dabi’s eyes went wide, seeing that skinny young man pick up such a weight with very little effort … was doing things to him. He does have some broad shoulders I guess …
“I’m taking it to the pantry,” he announced already walking away, “not that you would care though …”
“H-hey! Let me help!” Dabi asked already walking to the second case, but he was stopped in his tracks by Tomura turning around so fast that he might have snapped his neck.
“I’M FINE!” he screeched, “I can do it on my own …”
“Hey, you wanted me to do it a second ago!”
“No, I wanted you to take the initiative to do it on your own when you had obviously nothing better to do. To help around you know? Now I prefer taking care of it myself …”
“Are you sure? I’m taller than you, you won’t even be able to reach the top shelf …”
“I said I’M FINE!” Tomura grunted, more and more pissed off, “I can take care of it on my own …”
“I mean sure, but are you okay carrying this stuff with only four fin-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP DABI I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!”
There was a lot of anger in that last sentence, but for some reason, it didn’t feel directed at Dabi. He still took a step back, and slowly walked back to the couch as Tomura made his way to the pantry in the back, getting out of Dabi’s sight. He reappeared a few times to get the other two boxes avoiding Dabi’s eyes each time. But the funning thing was that his body language seemed more embarrassed than mad. How does he even work? What’s happening inside his head? But Dabi sat back on the couch, getting back to his phone. A few minutes passed, maybe fifteen, and Dabi was considering whether to get up to get his cigarettes or not when it happened.
He heard a loud crashing noise, followed by a shriek, a bunch of metallic sounds and a thud. Then silence. Dabi’s entire body tensed and he almost dropped his phone.
“Mopehead? Are you alright?” he called, already getting up.
No answer. Dabi felt like all of his blood had gone cold.
“Shigaraki?”
After that second silence, he didn’t hesitate for a second and dashed to the pantry, almost tripping on his own feet in the process. The door was wide open, and Tomura was laying on the floor, surrounded by smashed boxes of cereals, broken jar of peanut butter and other condiments. Dabi was relieved to see his eyes wide open looking at the ceiling in complete shock, and his chest falling and rising rapidly. But his body began to shake again when he notices that a part of Tomura’s hair was now damped in blood, the red liquid slowly running down his pale forehead.
“Tomura!”
The unusual use of his first name had the young man blink a few times and look up to Dabi who kneeled next to him, already trying to delicately hold up his head, and above all trying to stay calm. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck … what do I do? He’s hurt what should I do? Please be okay … Why the fuck didn’t you let me help you??? Why didn’t I take care of these stupid boxes myself?? Why did I …
“Dabi what the fuck are you doing?”
Still lying on the ground, Tomura was looking at him with an irritated confusion, and absolutely no sign of pain or trauma on his face. Dabi looked right back, and they both went really quiet when they realised that the taller man was … well, practically cradling his boss his arms. Dabi didn’t even know how it happened, he just remembered trying to hold Tomura’s head up, panicking for a bit, and now he was embracing him, apparently? In his arms, the boy was completely stiffed and keeping his fist clenched. For a while, they stayed completely silent, just staring deep into each other’s eyes, almost as if they were trapped like this.
Eventually, they both let go of each other so brutally that Tomura’s head almost hit the ground a second time.
“Are you okay?” Dabi asked, still worried and starring at the red that kept running on the other’s face, “Look at me! How many fingers do I hold? Do you know your name? Where are you right now?”
“Will you cut that already?” Tomura groaned, slapping away the two fingers Dabi was holding in front of his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m fine … I just lost my balance on the stole … And don’t you dare give me that I told you you were too short comment.”
Dabi was looking at Tomura with incredulous eyes.
“I’m not gonna … I’m gonna make a comment like that right now! Look at you! You’re hurt!”
“That never stopped you before …”
Somehow, Dabi felt like Tomura wasn’t referencing to physical hurt right now. The blue haired-boy scoffed at his clueless expression and tried to get up holding himself up against the wall.
“Wow hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Dabi tried to hold him but stopped himself, “You got hit bad! And the head … and surely elsewhere … You’re fucking bleeding!”
“Get a hold of yourself Dabi I’m fine!” Tomura hissed, “I just hit my head … and fell … shit happens … now I’ve got to clean up this mess before Kurogiri comes back.”
“Are serious right now? You’re fine?” Dabi laughed, almost nervously, “You can barely stand up! Are you telling me you’re not feeling any pain right now?”
Tomura just shrugged and made a move to get out of the pantry, but Dabi was having none of it. He grabbed Tomura’s arms to pull him back in and pressed him against the wall to keep him still. Surprisingly, Tomura didn’t fight back like he usually would have and although Dabi didn’t really question why, his wide red eyes told him that he was simply too surprised to do anything right now. So Tomura did nothing but widen his eyes even more when Dabi gently lifted the blue curls off the boy’s face to have a look at the wound.
“Okay …” Dabi practically whispered, talking to himself more than to Tomura, “Okay, it’s not that deep … but … shit okay, we still need to bandage that shit … and maybe some ice? Fuck I don’t know … are you hurt anywhere else? Any bruises? Mopehead?”
He focused back on Tomura who didn’t seem to have heard any of the things Dabi just said. He was just … looking at him. And breathing hard. Dabi suddenly got worried that he was either hurting Tomura or just making him uncomfortable by standing so damn close to his face, and he took a step back. Tomura swallowed, and the movement of his throat was hypnotic. But Dabi didn’t have time to focus that right now.
“Okay, come with me …” He grabbed Tomura’s elbow and dragged him back to the leaving room. The boy still wasn’t really fighting, but at least he wined a little and it actually reassured Dabi to hear that familiar sound. He was mentally making an inventory of everything that was in this house that could help him and his boss, toilet paper, ice … bandage? Where the fuck are the bandages in this house? We get fucked up all the time, we must have some disinfectant somewhere … I should also check these damn boxes. His mind still busy, he casually dragged Tomura to the couch, sat him there, and ran to the bathroom without paying attention to whatever Tomura was yelling at him.
Tomura just looked at Dabi run to the bathroom with his ridiculously long legs and was a little offended to see him ignore his protest. And yet, Tomura sat still on the couch just like Dabi had ordered him, and he discovered that he had no attention of moving. He had never liked being told what to do, and Dabi should have been the last person he would listen to, but he didn’t move. He was just so confused by the whole situation that it almost made him curious about what would happen next. Why is he so freaked out about this? We’re fucking villains! We kill and we get hurt …That’s what we do … we get hurt … So what is happening here?
“Okay, I think I got this!”
Dabi walked out of the bathroom with his arms full of toilette papers, and probably every pharmaceutical looking bottle they owned. He dropped everything on the opposite side of the couch and came to sit right next to Tomura who was still looking at him like he was insane.
“Fuck we really do need a healer on the team …” Dabi muttered, “But okay first let me clean the bleeding.”
“Why are you doing this?” Tomura asked, almost worried.
“Because you don’t look like you’re going to do this yourself,” Dabi answered matter-of-factly ripping a lot more toilet paper than what seemed necessary, “Now hold still …”
Dabi moved a little closer to Tomura and raised his hand to get Tomura’s hair out of the way, but Tomura slightly leaned backward, looking at his hand almost suspiciously. For a second, Dabi was reminded of a stray cat he had found as a kid. He had tried to tame him, petting him and bringing him food every day, but every time he did, the kitten would just hiss at him. Back then Dabi hadn’t understood why and had given up quickly. But now, he understood that this kitten had been hurt so much, that he had become unfamiliar with basic care and affection. Dabi smiled to himself. He’ll be more patient this time.
“Shigaraki I need to clean this …”
“No, you don’t … Why do you suddenly care? You’re always trying to hurt me and make me angry … we fight each other so much … what is this?”
“Believe it or not, I never actually wanted to hurt you physically. Hell, not even … emotionally. I just get bored easily and you have fun reactions. But you’re still my boss. We’re in the same team you and I. So if you’re not going to it yourself, please let me do it.”
Tomura hesitated for another few seconds but eventually held still when Dabi raised his hand a second time. The long delicate fingers put some of the blue locks behind the boy’s ear and held the rest of them above his head. Dabi found it surprisingly difficult to hold Tomura’s hair like this without succumbing to the temptation of running both of his hand through it. He had been wanted to touch this mess for a while, and it was a lot softer than what he had imagined. To keep himself still, he focused on his leader’s face that was now completely revealed to him, without that blue curtain for him too hide behind. God that face … Nothing about it makes sense and yet it’s the most harmonious picture … the scars … the mole … But Dabi still tried not stair too intensely, because although Tomura was doing a good job at staying still, so much closeness and revealing was very uncomfortable for him. His eyes were looking down and he was biting his lips. Dabi caught himself staring at them for five full seconds.
“I can be fun you know …” Tomura suddenly said, eyes focused on his own clenched fists on his laps.
“Hmm? What’s that?” Dabi asked, putting some disinfectant on the paper to clean the dry blood. Tomura didn’t flinched when pressed the product against his wound, he just kept talking.
“I-I can be fun …” he repeated clearly embarrassed, “You were saying that you’re bored and that you think I’m funny when I’m mad … And like … I mean, you don’t have to make me mad if you just wanna talk …”
“What, you’re saying I should just … like say a joke and you would just laugh with me?”
“Well, yeah. If it’s a good joke. But you know what I mean … I’m not you’re personal freak show okay? I’m a fucking person …”
Tomura looked up as he said these last few words. His eyes were almost as red as the blood Dabi was cleaning off his face. The wound was looking a lot better now almost completely clean, it was time to bandage it.
“I don’t think you’re freak …” Dabi promised slowly a pressing the bandage against the corner of Tomura’s forehead, “I mean, we’re all freaks here I guess but … but I …”
The bandage was on. Tomura looked almost cute with it … and with his messy hair … and with his big attentive eyes waiting for Dabi to finish his sentence … Why are you doing this to me kitten?
“I actually think your pretty cool …” Dabi admitted. In front of him, Tomura frowned in confusion and began to scoff, so Dabi quickly kept going. “I’m serious! I … I mean you’re so … you. You’re unique. I’ve never met anyone one remotely like you before. You’re probably younger than me, and look at everything you’ve already accomplished. You’re … you’re Shigaraki Fucking Tomura! Leader of the league of villains … not even 25 and already breached through UA’s security twice … responsible for All Might’s demise … So yeah, I think I never considered you’d want to talk to me, because next to you I’m just a joke with a flashy quirk.”
“I don’t think you’re a joke Dabi.”
Dabi focused back on Tomura, and his heart almost skipped a beat. The boy was blushing, completely pink from his face all the way to his collarbone. They both bit their lips at the same time.
“I mean … I think you’re kind of a dick,” he admitted growing redder, “But you’re … you’re reliable. You’re good at what you do, and not just because of your quirk. You know how to lead people, you’re good under pressure … I think you’re cool. I … envy you sometimes you know? The way you just … connect with people. I can’t do that. I can't figure everyone out like you do.”
“Everyone but you.”
There was another silence. The wound was clean, but neither of them made any movement to get off the couch because neither of them wanted to. For the first time since they had first met, there seemed to be an opening for something different than violence or snarky bickering.
“When you fell,” Dabi eventually asked, “You didn’t seem in pain … I thought you were really stubborn but … did you really not felt that?” He showed the bandage on Tomura’s head.
“I didn't... No really … I always had a very high pain tolerance.”
Dabi was suddenly reminded of the that time in the bar, months ago now, where they had that little explosive brat tied up to a chair. He remembered Tomura ordering him and Twice to free that boy’s restraints. And he remembered Tomura not flinching one bit when he sent an explosion to his face.
“My sensei …” Tomura continued, “When I was young he was always really busy. He didn’t really have time to take care of me besides my training. He had already done so much for me … I didn’t want to bother him you know? I didn’t want to be a burden. So I learned to deal with myself. It hurts less and less each time …”
Dabi began to think about all the scars covering Tomura’s body. All these times he got hurt and didn’t to anything about it, and didn’t even flinch. It should have been impressive, intimidating even, but for some reason, it made Dabi really sad. I want to hold him …
“So … when something hit you … touches you … you just don’t feel it?”
“Not really, no. Or barely. Not anymore.”
Dabi always knew he had a very bad impulse control, but he had not realised how bad until now. Because the next second, almost without his own consent, he gently pressed his hand against Tomura’s left cheek. Not just the tip of his fingers, not just caressing the cheek … but holding Tomura’s face, rubbing his thumb against the cheekbone.
“But you feel that, don’t you?”
Dabi genuinely expected to get punch, or even turned into a pile of dust, or just for Tomura to irk away. But none of that happen. Instead, Tomura closed his eyes and gasped in surprise. No, not gasped … moaned.
Suddenly, Dabi felt thousands of shiver running through him from head to toes and he felt hotter than he had ever had in his entire life. In front of him, Tomura had turned completely crimson. His eyes flustered open and he just nodded eagerly to answer Dabi’s question.
“Y-yeah … I … I feel that …”
“And that?” Dabi got even closer, running the tip of his fingers against the prominent shapes of his Tomura’s collarbone. Another impulsive decision he could barely control, but it was too late, the vane was open now. Besides, the reward was even better than last time, as Tomura gasped some more and actually arched his chest forward into Dabi’s touch.
“Yes that too I … I can … hmm …”
Without even asking anything this time, Dabi got a hold of Tomura’s face with both of his hands, and than ran them up to push them through Tomura’s thick mess of curls. Tomura began to pant, and actually fell backward on the couch under the intensity of Dabi’s touch and the weakness of his own body. As his back hit the cushion, his previously half closed eyes went wide and he whimpered: “D-Dabi I …”
“Oh God I’m sorry!” The whimper had snapped Dabi out of his weird trance. He got his hand out of Tomura’s hair and rested them on the couch on each side of the boy’s head, but didn’t actually got off him. Underneath him, Tomura didn’t seem mad at all, which was good, but he still looked dazed and overwhelmed. “I’m so sorry Tomu- I mean Shigaraki I …” Dabi you idiot what were you thinking? He just revealed you that he has pretty much bean touch starved and possibly touch averse all his life and the first thing you do is get your hands on him? How am I gonna explain this? “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to … I mean I wanted to but I shouldn’t have … But I was … I was just listening to you saying these things, and I was thinking about your scars and I just … I was thinking about how hurt you got and I wanted to … I don’t know I wanted to make you feel good … I’m sorry I’ll stop touching you now …”
“No!” Tomura suddenly begged with a panicked voice, “Please! Don’t! D-Don’t stop … Don’t ever stop …”
Now they were both blushing. Both of their messy declaration stayed up in the air for a while, with only their heavy panting filling up the silence in the room. They just looked at each other, both searching in the other’s eyes the confirmation that they were allowed to feel so soft right now.
“I …” Tomura began with a weak voice, “ I like when you’re touching me. It feels good …”
It feels good. That sentence was like a click in Dabi’s mind, and as looked at Tomura so beautiful spread beneath him looking at him with nervous but hopeful eyes, his entire body relaxed. With a smile, he shifted on his elbow to be almost completely lying on Tomura, and closer to his face.
“Don’t ever stop, uh?” he playfully repeated, already slowly bringing back his hands to Tomura’s neck and shoulders, “Well, you’re the boss …”
As Dabi gently ran his hands over his frame, Tomura’s body relaxed more and more. He felt like he had thousands of butterfly trapped inside of him, and each touch from Dabi was one step closer to them breaking free. The feeling should have been completely alien to him, but it was actually wonderfully familiar, as if Dabi’s hands had always belonged with him. Tomura remembered every single times Dabi and him had touched. Purposely brushing his shoulder when he could … tying to move pasted him when he blocked him in the narrow corridor … wrestling with him on the floor when they both had too much to drink … Dabi grabbing his arm and pressing him against the cold wall of a dark alley as they both ran away from the police after a job … and sometimes … even Dabi resting his head against his shoulder when they just sat alone on that very same couch after a very long job.
Tomura had always cherished these moments, because they were so rare, like accidents most of the time. And for a while, he thought he should already be grateful that such moments even existed in the first place. Tomura had been attracted to Dabi since he first walked in the bar, but Dabi had immediately mocked him and insulted him. So Tomura had insulted him back. And this little game had kept going, and Tomura was hurting more and more each day, because that beautiful tall guy despised him, or so he thought. They had moments, minutes during which for one reason or another they were both too tired to fight and just talked, even laughed sometimes. But these moment hurt even more, because it showed Tomura that Dabi was more than just a pretty face. He was someone Tomura felt good with. When he wasn’t trying to ridicule him in front of the league.
But now? Now, none of this mattered. Because he was stupid and Dabi was stupid. Because they had just trapped themselves in false postures and defence mechanisms for months, but now they were free.
On top of him, Dabi was longer just touching him he was holding him. He covered him like a blanket, touching him so completely that it was almost deliciously painful to his oversentive body. Tomura tentatively ran his hands over Dabi’s back, and the gasp he received in return pushed him to actually grab him and hold him tight. They were completely intoxicated with the feeling of each other.
“You’re so warm …” Tomura whispered with an almost delirious voice.
“It’s because of you, you’re making me feel so hot …” Dabi answered cradling Tomura’s face with his hands, and the boy threw his arms around his neck in response.
“Hey Dabi …”
“Yes, kitten?” Dabi hadn’t meant to let that nickname slip like that, but it was appropriate because Tomura practically purred when he heard it.
“Can you please touch my neck again?” he asked, “But also keep your hands in my hair …”
“Kitten, I only have two hands …”
“Yes I know but … but I was thinking … maybe you could use your lips?”
Dabi let out a deep grunt that vibrate against Tomura’s body, and whispered: “You’re so fucking smart …” He dived in and pressed a hot kiss in the crook of Tomura’s neck, and another, and another, and another … making him whimper louder and louder.
“Anywhere else?” Dabi asked barely lifting his head.
Tomura pointed the other side of his neck and Dabi obliged. Then he pointed at his collarbone and Dabi bit this time. After that, he point at the mole on his chin and Dabi licked it. The game keep going like this for a while, Dabi kisses more or less gently, until the point where they were just two giggling mess. And finally, as Dabi lifted his head once more to wait for his next orders, Tomura’s eyes filled themselves with a mix of anticipation, hope and anxiety that Dabi knew all too well, and Tomura pressed a trembling finger against his own lips.
“Here, I think it would be nice.”
Dabi agreed. And it was.
It was soft and experimental at first; just two pairs of lips pressed one against the other. Tomura squirmed a little, but relaxed went Dabi smiled into the kiss. For a while, it was just the two of them suck sucking and biting at each other’s lips, until Tomura hesitantly opened his mouth against Dabi's waiting for him. It was the tentative gesture of someone’s who never kissed anyone before but saw it in the movies, and it was driving Dabi crazy. He licked the scar on Tomura’s lips and tasted the inside of Tomura’s mouth. He wasn’t sure which one of them moaned louder.
“I wanted you to kiss me …” Tomura confessed breathlessly between to kiss, “Every night since we met, when it was just the two of us at the bar late at night, when we met in the corridor, when we were hiding in from the police pressed against the wall … I wanted you to kiss me but you never did …”
“I know, I know baby and I’m so sorry …” Dabi assured barely pulling away from Tomura’s mouth, “I wanted to kiss you so bad, but I was so fucking stupid, I was afraid that you would reject me and mock me … so I tried to make you hate me. Forgive me … Let me make it up to you …”
Dabi felt so stupid. Stupid for ever thinking that Tomura was some kind of untouchable smoke, because he was the exact opposite. Tomura was real. Tomura was warm. Tomura blushed and moaned. Tomura was alive. And Dabi was touching Tomura. They kissed for hours, cuddling on that dirty old couch. Even when they stopped, they kept laughing and nuzzling at each other’s face. And when that was done, they just kept cuddling some more, burying their faces in each other’s neck.
“How’s your head?” Dabi asked pressing a kiss to his jaw.
“Better,” Tomura said, honest, “You’re a good nurse …”
“I sure am … and if you feel like …” He pressed another kiss, “If you’re ready … we can play doctor tonight …”
A rush of pleasure and anticipation ran through Tomura’s body.
“Hey Dabi?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you didn’t took care of these boxes …”
“I’m glad too.”
They fell asleep like that. And they looked so soft, messy and in love that Kurogiri wasn’t even mad about the mess they made in the pantry. But he didn’t stop the others from taking selfies with them while they were sleeping.