the first time keigo did this, touya simply brushed it off. brushed him off, too; pat his back and told him to get it the fuck together. it resulted in a scoff from touya and a pout from keigo; one he’d not admit to find adorable. it’s the impact he has, or so touya thought, gettin’ him to emote like that.
the second time is different, in a sense; only so because touya doesn’t brush him off immediately. doesn’t tell hi to let go when he can clearly feel his talons diggin’ through clothes. it comes a few seconds delayed, only after touya got to breathe him in. okay, yeah, i get it. you can let go now.
the next time he even said please, and it must’ve sounded painful; keigo didn’t let go, and what it took was touya cursing at him. telling keigo to stop acting like a fucking child around their fucking crush. he’d not known the impact that time.
at the fourth he simply accepts his fate. crushed like that. smothered. pressed down flat on the bed, actually unable and very much unwilling to move; instead grabbed the back of keigo’s head like his life depended on it. very much did, but touya won’t admit such.
today he sees it as less a nuisance but more a welcome gesture; considered the months of the past without that characteristic leap to be empty. devoid of something special.
keigo did listen. did stop
acting like he’s got a crush,
& began to act like he’s in love.
touya did, too.
must’ve seen being away from him as the worst feat, and hoped he’d not have to face this long without him around again.
now that touya knows of a shared past and childhood affections, he went far enough to open his arms; could hardly believe his eyes, the sight of crimson wings in all their glory. how long has it been since he lost them? how long since that day? count escapes him when it’s not a run towards him but glide; something touya thought he’d not see again; deemed them lost; but stands with arms wide open to catch him.
actually reaches, and doesn’t think to tell him to let go. get lost, stop acting like that. touya still curses under his breath. grasped at fabric with one hand, feathers with another and shakes like they did from the unbelievable excitement.
touya promises not to let go, and asks the same of keigo.
a real wonder he hasn’t been caught yet, moving around the building so freely. sure, concealed what gives him away as dabi, and with his luck of the last weeks touya hoped it wouldn’t run dry during a single evening now. the visit only prompted by keigo reaching out – this time.
it’s usually touya. desperate enough. or just plain lonely. damn hungry, sometimes; which seemed to him like making use of what keigo offered in the past, not making use of him. a disturbing thought at this stage, as awful it was to admit. not finding him home was worse, though, all things considered.
touya admits to defeat quickly enough.
did let a curse slip; both disappointment and good ol’ exasperation at being so fucking stupid to believe in anything good,
just how blind are you, touya?
fucking around with a hero?
that one, of ‘em all—
they do turn around after searching the apartment, just about ready to drop the keys in demonstration right next to the door; not ready to face reality when they do feel something shift behind them and are about ready to burst, turn around and attac—
„oh, fuck you.“ fingers latched onto him, his coat, slip below and find refugee in the belt-loops on the front of his jeans. „you little shit.“ more than the surprise of keigo being there it’s the horror of not realizing it, being caught off guard, being such easy prey. doesn’t seem like touya. shouldn’t be like touya; not with the huff of feigned annoyance escaping from him, or the grindin’ he does back against keigo, and thinks two can play this game.
it’s keigo who pulls, and touya who puts his hands above the other’s, leaning back enough for him to catch their whisper.
„i missed you.“ when that tension he held did fade there’s… finality to his words. kind of relief. certainly desperation.
they rarely get to spend time together; considering they’re both usually caught up with whatever, and quite busy as one comes, he’d see no surprise there. he would accept yugi bein’ tired after god-knows-what, assumes he didn’t get a lot of rest them past couple days.
to fall asleep durin’ video-games, now, that’s a damn first.
one assumed he’d be a lot more competitive despite exhaustion, so dabi all but thinks he needs it bad. can’t give to him the most comfortable spot to almost fall asleep on, though; the equivalent of a cat fallin’ asleep on his lap, with yugi against his shoulder, that gamepad in hand slipping with each slowly taken breath.
dabi doesn’t move. frozen, really, and it’s kinda annoying, kinda charming. most of all it ain’t what he hoped a course to take for this evening, but he’ll take it.
no more drafts!!
deleted a few, yea, but . im left with 14 asks now . after squid game with newt though <3
every word from her is embraced as nothin’ but the truth, and he’d take them as both encouragement and the promise that they were meant to pose. aware of when to stop; should she tense, the second dabi would feel it, tightening that’s beyond what he knows to be pleasure.
thirty seconds is all he takes to simply be, as deep inside of her as he could possibly get. leave her to adjust to him, to feel him proper and give them time to breathe; back to collectin’ parts which must’ve been lost along the way, those that can speak of patience and composure – both of which he doesn’t have all too many left, if he’s honest, and he’d not risk ruin it for her by chasing for himself.
given the build-up was for takehiko though never selfless in nature – clear in the fever dabi expressed wordlessly, solely with mouth and fingers on takehiko. motions continue after a long cease, one hand’s there to remain on her hip for as long as dabi could leave it to grasp, the other steady in her hold and where it’s meant to be, the tension within muscles more an indicator of emotion than a curse could be –
one which does slip, again, louder when dabi draws back to leave the tip inside alone, then swiftly back inside with one single move of hips. able to rise, look into her eyes and search perhaps for what can indicate discomfort. dabi found none of it and couldn’t bite at the smile on his lips. collected enough to show the confidence so usual for him, with honeyed words on his lips and sweat gathering on his brow.
„just look at you,“ dabi steals a wet kiss, longing, the duration of a single thrust, „you’re so beautiful.“ more kisses; between thrusts, then to match them; the hand from her hips wanders to settle on the back of her knee to the left of him, raise it higher and to spread, supported on him.
he’ll find no better stress-relief than this. no better way to lose himself, and sure as fuck no other way to be this incredibly close to tomura; like it should be, really, as it’s meant to be. not long until touya rises the next time after a momentary break; gather what he still has to give, granted it ain’t much with draining strength and ever weaker thighs the closer he gets;
conjures that rise and fall with loud moans alone, those that can tumble freely from dry lips and those which turns his throat sore in no time at all. have touya reduced to a mess from praise, being filled like that; not going high enough to lose him but threatening to, chasing what’s comin’ closer each passing second.
curses follow; reign superior and bring touya down to press lips to tomura’s neck; partially to hide, mostly to be closer to him; to have hips move more effectively and form fists in the sheets above tomura’s head. voice ends up choked, muffled by the other’s skin and at this point, in this position, far beyond control hittin’ that sweet spot over and over.
enough to make him tremble. enough to make touya beg. „cum. pleasepleaseplease—“
montero comes on in my dabi playlist and im losing my mind for a few minutes there
breaths drawn, she’s able to draw back and look upon him. “i did laugh; but that’s a bit more than a giggle.” she’d consider it such, anyway. “and makin’ you happy is somethin’ i always want to do, so i wouldn’t put it on a scale to level things out.”
she pauses, allows her hands to hook around the small of his back. “didn’t really know i was ticklish. just knew it felt funny when something’s brushed up against my ribs there, before… always kinda distinguished between the two.”
he really can’t win here, it seems; if they’re gonna distinguish between full on laughter and a giggle, yeah, sure, he’d accept that! wouldn’t you let him have that small victory, at least?
„it is on the scale, though,“ he’d state, and pulls away, from her grasp, without letting fingers leave her as dabi moves to stand at her side, first, „least i think so. though it’s pretty damn easy, considerin’ it’s you here.“
behind her he goes, with arms around her middle and his temple to the side of takehiko’s head. „do think i gotta search for more spots sometime later, feel it’s gotta be more private. i’m sure i’ll find some you hardly knew existed.“ voice’s kept low, just above a whisper. still teasin’ as digits do, brushing on top of fabric to her ribs.
„later. maybe… tonite?“
she mirrors the stronger grip he gives her with her own hand against him, amusement in her expression and lightness in her heart. something about his train of thought is endearing, the behavior alongside it and the words taken. it’s almost as though listening to him talk is enough to get her to relax just as he has.
“a good point, really. you’re onto something there.” she reaches over with a free hand, straightens the shirt that’s rumpled from his coat and the movement against her. “maybe the old lady we’re gonna see would have an answer for you.”
„bacon, too,“ shit just bursts, a huff accompanies words, „you don’t bake that. you don’t.“
he did not forget that train of thought; even though it’s destined to derail at one point, sooner than later and really, if takehiko hadn’t reminded him of where they’re going he would’ve… forgotten again. too caught up with whatever code he’s been tryin’ to crack (poorly) that it escaped his mind (which was workin’ just as poor) what kinda adventure they’re on.
„ah.. ahh, you’re right. she might! i hope she does!“
still dabi wasn’t entirely sure if takehiko was makin’ fun of him for contemplating cookies ‘n bacon, but hey… hey, he’s in no damn place to argue with himself if any word of her’s a gift or no.
it pretty fucking sure as hell is.
calmer, at some point, close enough to her to hear takehiko’s gentle taken breath through the mask, dabi finds it’s much easier to stay on track; and it don’t take long until that little bakery comes in sight; somewhere off the main-street and away from the bustlin’ of people that really gave no fuck about old traditions.
„alright, tell me to behave, can’t let her think bad o’ me.“
⠀⠀ ❝ once. ❞ static tone to answer, yet a shard of longing. perhaps without person her being would not even stand here, holding this conversation. having the comfort of another to stand behind you was a feeling she long forgot, yet remembered. ❝ there are things i wanted to thank them for. but that is no possible anymore. it is just me by myself now. not that i mind it. before meeting them i was by myself as well. ❞
⠀⠀ silence was upon them once more. through before growing heavy it was a sigh that interrupted.
⠀⠀ ❝ when looking for a distraction. the worst topic must be talking about a miserable past. ❞
dabi means not to pry; would’ve never gotten to stick a finger between folds of flesh that tried to knit themselves back together over a wound, fresh or old didn’t matter in any equation; though here they are, doin’ just that, and confident in an approach. dumb enough, quite possibly, to take that low hangin’ fruit.
„eh…“ it’s their turn to hesitate. to think; do what dabi ain’t great at more times than often; hates to admit, but what’s a healthy understandin’ of one’s shortcomings?
„people leave you, you ain’t going out of it the same. you’re givin’ ‘em pieces, they hand some to you,“ dabi gestures, left to right but damn exhausted of the thought, „leaves you guessin’ just what the fuck you’re supposed to do, s’ not like you can do shit with what you’ve learned about them. it sucks. the hurt don’t stop.“
it’s never only in the past.
At the others question, he wanted to move, to be able to get things for them so he wouldn’t trouble dabi, but even he knew with the state he was in right now, he couldn’t move, couldn’t pick things up and more. Trying to even his breathing, he gave a slight nod towards the door. “There is a large first aid trunk in the kitchen cupboard, it should have everything… everything you need in it..”
A shaky breath left his small form, hands trembling under the water. And as Dabi placed that kiss to his temple, jade eyes closed for a brief moment, leaning in closer to them and cherishing that they were there for him.
The knife in his side was painful, but he knew it would only be worse when they finally pulled it out, blood dripping down over the burnt skin surrounding the area.
Besides the burns that were heavily obvious, the male only had smaller scrapes and bruises scattered across his form, nothing at all to worry about in the long run. “I-I’m sorry….” The hero rasped out, able to breathe slightly easier now with the villain near. “I’m so sorry…. I couldn’t save them! She lied to me!” A small whimper slipping from his lips.
“She had hostages…… and they’re…! They’re all-” Biting at his lip, he couldn’t speak more, getting dizzy, knowing he had to calm down.
why another would give a fuck about hostages was beyond them; but they needed to realize they are talking with a hero. and apparently heroes did care; still a concept dabi doesn’t think nor try to grasp, so it’s shoved to the side.
the understanding, and ability to; perhaps visible in their frown that, no, he’d better not give a damn about dead people as long as he got out of it alive. battered and bruised and in a bad fucking shape, but still breathin’.
( no care for the rest of the world. )
dabi is just selfish.
it’s all there is.
once again they think they should’ve been around, standin’ on the other side and trying what they could to prevent some of the damage at least, no matter the strain it’d put to each their image – granted it would be immense – though at least they’d not have to deal with this, right here. with more blood than they could possibly imagine, burns that could match his own if time ain’t been kind. be that all, dabi couldn’t leave his side like tis to get equipment that’s required, for now needs yuki to calm down.
„it doesn’t matter,“ he says it like its obvious, a fact and no room for arguments, „you think of yourself now, first. you can’t change what happened, either way, and you’ve gotta fucking focus. i can’t help you if you don’t.“ he’ll get to talk about what happened in detail, if that helps him; when he’s safe, and doesn’t reek of blood anymore.
‘ for the last time, this is all we have. ‘ shigaraki digs into the stale leftover pizza like a wild animal. it tastes more like cardboard than pizza, but it’s food. the state of the league these days was bleak, with pennies to their name. it certainly wasn’t ideal, and shigaraki had his own plans for putting the league back on the map, but for now, it was leftovers and stale expired food. he knew morale was low, but with some time and work, things would be decent again. once they were on top of the world as they should be, none of this would matter. they’d be living like kings once he was through. he wouldn’t settle for less. still, he can’t blame his comrades for being frustrated. he was just as annoyed to be eating this disgusting crap.
‘ if you don’t like it, don’t eat. or go rob some places or something and buy some more food. and bring something back while you’re at it. ‘
curses to bein’ a picky either in a situation like theirs; one that’s been goin’ for months, and they don’t see an end to it yet. when one party keeps talking about sushi and another whines over protein-bars and how they taste like there’s anything in it but protein, it’s easy for the next to become easily agitated. and lash out at the slightest word.
this time it’s the fucked up stench of whatever shigaraki dared call pizza. dabi did nothin’ but watch; not an indicator there’s ever been any grease on that thing, and the crust was just… black; yeah, no, with the turn their stomach took, they’d much rather starve some more. leave digestive issues to their leader, really.
„yo, you’re gonna regret that, and i’m not here holdin’ your hair when you do,“ dabi leans back on the couch, legs propped on the back-rest of it, „shit, i could make better pizza from scratch. and not burn the crust.“ their head shifts to the side; again to watch with a frown; and hands dig into pockets to search for a lil golden card. they’ve meant to keep it when shit’s more dire, but hold it up between two fingers now.
„you know ‘bout this shit? got like… i dunno, a week’s worth of food in my hand. you still enjoyin’ that pizza?“
“well good,” weight shifts slightly to her toes, allows her to rise & lean into them, when fingers find the place they belong in her beltloops. hands of her own fall to his waist. it’s effortless to balance against dabi, her chest against his.
” ‘cause i’ll do anythin’ you say, any way you say it.” she smiles against his jaw, “however you want, i promise i’ll do my best… long as my teeth are free t’mark you as they please.”
it’s easy to reach either way; from behind or front barely mattered to him, really, dabi finds she would adjust as needed in the right moment. „you’ve got your teeth,“ he says, has an arm around her waist and the other between bodies with a hand to slip underneath the waistband of her jeans,
„i’ve got my fingers.“ they’ll barely touch. just enough, quite, to probe and tease. when in reach he gets to add lips to the side of her, as lingering as do fingers.
14 asks, 12 drafts still. eughghghh
I’M CRYING THAT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD I 🔪☺️😌🎃☠️🥵😩 YAAAAAAAS