Chapter Text
All that Keigo could really do right now was curse his own toxic infatuation with handsome assholes and their fucked up pasts.
Their type was the worst to get a hold of during times of great importance. Especially after the deed was done. Unless there was an option for a round two of sorts- it was like they threw their phones into the ocean after they sent their demeaning little midnight texts his way.
Keigo wasn’t really all that sure why he thought Dabi would be any different to the others. The only true contrast between him and all the additional assholes Keigo had had intercourse with was that Dabi wasn’t just an asshole... He was like, legit a villain and an asshole.
A double threat in Keigo’s eyes.
Probably not the best person to have a child with, in retrospect.
Keigo kept staring at the test in his hands with an odd kind of fascination. He was carefully avoiding the part he’d peed on (because ew gross,) but still, it felt like he’d scoped out every single other inch of this shitty plastic stick with great intrigue.
That little plus sign had definitely come as a shock to him... And definitely not a happy shock. This had never been in the plan. He took very fucking expensive pills to make sure it wasn’t in the plan.
...But, well, here he was.
He couldn’t necessarily blame just one person. He really wanted to just blame Dabi. Or his stupid doctor for obviously prescribing him the wrong shit... Or even himself for being attracted to douchebags that never carried condoms with them.
-But all he could really do was think about what had to come next.
He was currently on the way to having a kid. He was… ugh. He was pregnant.
Keigo couldn’t help but turn his nose up at the word. It felt so… maternal. So feminine.
He knew that there was no shame in that. He knew it well. But even so, he couldn’t stop the panicked beating in his heart every time he thought about the intricacies of it all. Everything he’d had to keep secret. Everything he’d had to hide. It was all futile... It had all meant nothing.
Now, Keigo knew very well that this didn’t mean the end for him. There was always another option when it came to situations of great peril. As a seasoned hero, he knew it quite well indeed...
It didn’t help that he wasn’t at all sure what he wanted, though.
Sure, his job was dangerous- but he made a more than decent living. Sure, the father of the kid was a dickhead- but it wasn’t like he’d be around anyway. Sure, he’d never really wanted kids, but maybe this was a sign that he needed to reassess that ideal…
Fuck.
There were just so many things to consider about this stupid little stick.
Keigo sighed, his eyes lifting up toward the kitchen draw that held the burner phone that Dabi had handed him on one of their (rather copious) late-night rendezvous.
“You’re a pretty good fuck, birdie. Call me whenever you want to have a good time.”
He really shouldn’t have kept the fucking phone.
He probably wouldn’t be in this situation if he hadn’t kept the fucking phone.
It was literally a fucking phone because the only thing that came after using it was fucking-
Okay. He was getting sidetracked.
Keigo lifted himself off the floor with a groan, his joints feeling heavy- but not nearly as heavy as his chest felt.
It was almost hilarious how one stupid little fuck up could make such an impact on him.
As he opened the draw and saw that same battered old phone in the same place it always was- he couldn’t help but feel his stomach turn.
...And he was pretty sure that it wasn’t just the morning sickness.
Perhaps it was better to just not tell Dabi. He didn’t owe him anything, after all. The guy was a villain. An objectively shitty person. Who knew how he would react...
But still…
Keigo thought about how Dabi never pushed him into doing something he was uncomfortable with. Never did anything that hadn’t been agreed upon. Never went too far and made Keigo's skin crawl like so many others had before him. He was someone truly fascinating- someone intriguing enough to keep Keigo coming around. He was undoubtedly wicked when they were together- but never in a way that Keigo disliked.
Shit. The guy was an enigma. Well and truly.
Keigo continued to stare at the phone with a concentrated scrunch of his nose. This really was one hell of a moral dilemma.
And to think his biggest concern last week was deciding which cereal he ought to have for breakfast...
...Maybe he should hold off telling Dabi. Just for now.
Drug store pregnancy tests were never ever 100% correct. This could very easily be a false positive. It would just be getting the guy involved for absolutely no real reason.
And how embarrassing would that be!?
Keigo needed to know for sure before he did anything.
Yeah, he could just be worried about nothing at all!
Just a silly little mishap and a faulty piece of cheap medical garbage! Haha...
“You are most definitely pregnant, Takamichi-san.”
Fuck.
Keigo had gone into a walk-in clinic the very next day. (In full disguise and an alias, of course,) only to find out that his vehement denial had been fruitless.
He was incredibly tired. He hadn’t slept a wink since he’d pissed on that stupid fucking stick. When the receptionist had asked for his name he’d choked out ‘Taka-’ before he realised he probably didn’t want a goddamn paper trail leading back to him for this.
“Given your symptoms, I'd put you at around seven or so weeks and... Takamichi-san? Are you feeling okay?” The doctor raised her eyebrows at Keigo, a quizzical expression on her face. It looked like she was about to wave her hand in front of his eyes to make sure he was still with her.
With all due reason too. Keigo snapped back to reality a few moments after she'd spoken.
Right. That was his name for now. Takamichi Kei. Very creative. Ugh. Keigo felt ill.
“U-uh yeah. Of course.” He smiled at her, his hero facade shining through instinctively.
She continues to look at him. So much so that it got to the point of being rude. “You look awfully familiar, Takamichi-san. Are you an actor?”
Keigo immediately paled. “Haha no. I get that a lot though. I’m just so handsome.”
The doctor blushed. “You really are.”
Keigo couldn’t help but feel a little incredulous. She’d literally just told him he was pregnant.
Guess he still had it. He was just that good.
Fuck yeah.
“Anyway. I’ll be heading off. Thanks for the uh… Everything.” He gestures to the hospital bed and the room surrounding it. He didn’t want to be here any longer than he had to be. He had to get home and do a whole lot of thinking.
Now that his worst fears had been confirmed- he’d double-booked himself an appointment with self-loathing and hatred back at his own residence.
“Oh! Please hold on just a moment.” The doctor stops him with a gloved hand.
Keigo freezes- he’s this close to just unfurling his wings and flying the fuck out of here… One more move. One more step...
Talk about fight or flight.
“We still haven’t discussed different options for you- but you seem to be in quite the rush,” She said, holding a handful of pamphlets out for him. "Why don't you take these home with you?"
Keigo immediately breathes a sigh of relief. Oh.
The doctor gives him a kind, knowing look. “I know it can be hard when you’re on your own, but don’t think you have no choices, okay?”
Curse this kind-hearted horny doctor! Keigo just wanted to get the fuck out of here but she was being all professionally responsible and junk!
He clears his throat, giving her his best 'handsome 'smile. “Thank you.” He takes the papers in his hands, “You have a wonderful day, doctor.”
He wished he could be a little more genuine for her. She seemed like a lovely person, truly.
Keigo just wasn’t himself today.
She doesn’t stop him a second time. He considers it a small victory amongst the massive loss he’d undoubtedly conceded to today.
....This meant he really had to call Dabi.
Shit.
Now that he was home again, away from prying eyes. Keigo just really felt like he wanted to cry.
He honestly couldn’t recall the last time he even had cried. Which was so distressing to him at that moment that it made him want to cry even more.
He’d been conditioned to not let all these ‘childish’ emotions get to him- to put up a heroic facade for the imaginary cameras all around him.
-But it obviously hadn’t fucking worked that well because right now all he wanted to do was lie face down on his floorboards and scream until he broke all of his downstair neighbour’s glass cups.
He hadn’t so much as glanced at the pamphlets the doctor had handed him on his way out. He found them too distressing. Too real. And as real as this now felt- he didn’t know if he wanted to give them the satisfaction just yet.
...Do you know what he did want to do, though?
Have someone else suffer with him.
It wasn’t fair that just one half of this bitch of a situation had to stress about this. Fuck Dabi and his stupid dick. He deserved to know just out of spite.
Keigo couldn’t help but let a growl escape his lips.
Yeah. He had to let him know anyway. It was killing him being alone like this. He shouldn’t have to be the only person agonising over this situation…
Dabi was the only one that he could tell. So he would tell him.
Keigo lay there for another minute in angered silence before he picked himself up off the floor once more.
Right. He’d told himself that he would call Dabi if this thing had actually been a thing and, well, it was a thing so now he had no pathetic excuses left. He had to bite the bullet and deal with it. Dabi deserved to know. He deserved to have to take some kind of responsibility for this. He deserved to at least have a little bit of a say in how they’d go about this whole… business.
Even if he wasn’t the most morally upstanding person, he still deserved a chance.
A chance for what, though- Keigo was once again unsure.
Reaching for the burner phone, (now placed regretfully on his kitchen counter,) he takes a deep breath before selecting the only contact on the little black device.
It lets out a dial tone throughout the apartment. It felt so much louder than it ever had…
Then, unpredictably, the line goes dead.
Keigo lets out an exhale that he didn’t even know had been there.
How long had he even been holding his breath for? He couldn’t quite recall...
Still looking down at the phone, Keigo just furrows his brows. He hadn’t anticipated this. Dabi almost always picked up on the first few rings. He’d never not answered a call from him...
Keigo looked at the clock on his wall. Sure, it was a little earlier than he would usually ring… He grimaced. But that shouldn’t really be a factor should it?
Did he really have to stay up until three in the morning to get a hold of this guy?
...He stays up until three in the morning to get a hold of him.
The phone, just like before- continues to sound for a few beats too long for Keigo to have any semblance of hope.
And, in the end, the line goes dead once more.
Keigo swallows uncomfortably. A strange puddle of relief and worry pooling in his stomach.
What was he supposed to do now?
This was essentially the only way of getting in contact with Dabi. The guy was a ghost. He only let himself be seen when he wanted to be. If he wanted to disappear for good, there’d be no way of tracking him down...
Keigo, for some strange reason, really hated that thought.
And yet, as he stifled yet another yawn from escaping his mouth- he realised that sleep was daring to take him (finally) and he should heed its call. He’d been up for over twenty-four hours. He deserved this respite.
Keigo didn’t have to worry about shit when he was unconscious, and that sounded far too tempting right now...
Keigo awoke with a start about three hours after he’d originally dragged himself to bed.
With the slowly rising sun in his eyes, he ruminates on one solid thought.
What if Dabi was dead?
This waking conclusion was one that greatly confused him because, well, who really cared -
He did.
But who would really be surprised-
Also him.
...But who would disagree that his death was just and fair after everything that he’d done...
He would. Keigo would. Hawks. Takami Keigo. Age twenty-three. Resident of Japan. Pro Hero. Current apparent carrier of a criminal’s bastard child.
Fuck.
Keigo really didn’t want the guy to be dead. He was just mad that he was the only one dealing with the situation they created together.
He feels his eyes lift over toward the burner phone on his nightstand.
How embarrassing. He’d taken it to bed with him.
Idly, he considers calling again. It’d be so easy to think that the first two times had been a fluke and that Dabi would simply pick up as nonchalant as ever…
Keigo already has the phone ringing before he can even process how desperate he seemed.
It’s futile anyhow. Just as before, the line remains as radio silent as ever.
So does the next time he tries. And the next. And the next-
After a dozen or so times of trying throughout the day, he just decides to give up. Dabi obviously wasn’t in any state to make an appearance.
Keigo could only hope he was at least still in this plane of existence though- so he could kill him for having to put up with his shit.