Chapter Text
IT'S LATE WHEN Tomura Shigaraki hears the knock at his door.
In all honesty, he should be fast asleep by now. But, here he is, sprawled out across his living room floor, open books and parchment paper scattered around him. There's dozens of hairs falling out of his loose ponytail, hanging in front of his face. He's pretty sure there's also a dark blob of ink smeared against his cheek. His eyes are beginning to close when he hears the knock at the door. He jumps, startled, nearly knocking over his gone-cold cup of tea.
With a yawn, he slowly rises to his feet. He stretches like a cat, back cracking painfully. The white-haired male trudges towards the door, peeking through the looking hole as to get a glimpse of who it is. When his eyes lock on a familiar raven-haired stranger, he wastes no time in hurrying to unlock the various locks attached to the door.
Dabi looks like a wreck. He's leaning heavily to one side, the scars underneath his eyes dripping with blood like macabre tears. His hair's in disarray, and his eyes are unfocused. Still, he gives a weak smile when his cerulean gaze is able to make its way to his face.
"Hey," is all Dabi offers. His voice is rough and scratchy, but it's quiet as if he's afraid of waking the whole complex up.
Tomura's features knit together in concern. He quickly opens the door, ushering the man in. A gentle kiss is placed on the black-haired male's sweaty forehead. Dabi hums contently in response.
It's a struggle to get Dabi to the couch. The man heavily leans on Tomura, and they hobble to the piece of furniture together. He gently lays the scarred man down, carefully of the fresh wounds he's sure are there. When Dabi's finally laid down in a comfortable position, Tomura lets out a sigh of relief. He waves his hand and the front door shuts, all the bolts automatically locking behind him.
"You can't seem to go one night without getting into trouble, can you?" Tomura mumurs, grabbing a wool blanket to drape over the man's body. Dabi quietly gives a thanks, fingers really gripping the blanket. Tomura sighs heavily, a sad smile on his face as he tucks a lock of Dabi's hair behind his ear.
"Trouble finds me," is Dabi's response to Tomura's question. He lets his eyes shut as Tomura's fingers wander to scratch at his scalp. " 'S not my fault, really… 'sides-" he opens his eyes to give him a coy look "-you know you couldn't go one night without me."
Laughing, Tomura smiles tenderly. "You're such a tease - even when you're bleeding out all over my couch."
"Sorry about that, by the way."
"Don't worry about it."
The white-haired male's knees pop as he gets to his feet. He grabs a wet washcloth from the bathroom and a first aid kid before returning. He rushes around the room, muttering to himself as he grabs various parts of different plants - a leaf from one plant, a chunk of root from another. He crushes a combination of these items with a mortar and pestle, turning them into a thick green paste.
He starts by wiping away the dried blood on the black-haired male. He precedes to apply the concoction on some of Dabi's wounds. The male sighs in relief, a cooling sensation overtaking him. His eyes droop as he stares at Tomura, but he manages an appreciative smile.
Tomura grabs Dabi's left wrist, letting out a disappointed huff at the site. An angry red is beginning to spread around the older purple scars. The staples are going to need to be replaced soon. It's the appearance of the new red burn marks that are worrying Tomura.
"I told you to stop playing with fire," Tomura says quietly, looking up to meet Dabi's eyes. The other looks away ashamed. Tomura brings his hand to cup Dabi's face, forcing him to look him in the eye.
"You're hurting yourself," Tomura states, thumb rubbing circles into the side of Dabi's face, mindful of the scars. He looks sad - Dabi feels shamefaced.
"I'm sorry," he whispers as Tomura applies the paste to his arm before wrapping it in gauze. He feels more blood beginning to pool from the scars underneath his eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"
His breath hitches in his throat as Tomura plants a kiss on his newly bandaged wrist. The white-haired male precedes to plant kisses all around Dabi's face. He lets out a dry sob as Tomura rests their foreheads together, trembling as he threads his burnt hands through snow-white hair.
"I'm not mad, Dabi," Tomura tells him honestly. "I'm just worried for you."
"I know-" Dabi pauses, swallowing the lump in his throat that continues to build the more he speaks. "I just-... if I don't do it, who else will?"
Tomura smiles sadly. He understands. He always does. He knows everything. With one glance, he can read Dabi like an open book everytime. It's infuriating and it's frustrating because no one's ever cared enough to understand before-
He must've started dry sobbing again because Tomura's planted another kiss to his forehead.
"I'm so close, sweetheart," Tomura tells him, trying to get him to believe it. "I'm so close, I promise. I've almost found a cure, I know it."
The books scattered around him are evidence of that. Tomura's lost plenty of nights of sleep to reading over ancient texts, examining old ruins, brewing potions, mixing salves, trying to find something that would just fucking work. He's doing it all for him.
It's a lost cause. Dabi knows it. He's tried for years. Tomura refuses to acknowledge that fact. He's spent too much time, put too much love into Dabi to just give up. So Dabi plays into his fantasy.
"I know," Dabi chooses his words carefully, tries to not let the pain in his voice, in his body, in his soul, deceive him, "but you're not gonna solve it all tonight. I'm tired, baby. Let's just go to bed, yeah? You can pick right back up tomorrow. Just let me have you tonight."
"Okay." Tomura nods quickly, furiously rubbing at the frustrated tears in his eyes. He can't understand how Dabi's just come to accept this, how he'll just live with all this pain in his life, how he's just accepted the facts he's going to-… he doesn't want to think about that tonight.
He helps Dabi to the bedroom. The older man still leans heavily on him for support, but they make it there eventually. He practically collapses into the piles of pillows and blankets.
(Tomura won't admit everything on the bed was picked out with him in mind. Nothing that would irritate Dabi's skin too much, nothing that would get caught in the staples, nothing too itchy.)
Dabi smiles sleepily at Tomura, threading their fingers together as Tomura pulls the covers up and around the both of them. Dabi presses himself close to Tomura's body, giving a long exhale. The pain's still there, but it's better when Tomura's around. Less of a burden to carry by himself.
"Get some sleep," he instructs Tomura, burrowing further into the softness of the items around him. "... I love you."
There's the faint whisper of an 'I love you, too' before lips are planted on his forehead and he falls asleep.
_____________
HIS EYES SNAP open automatically, skin already buzzing with the pull of work. Time to get up, time to get to work, time to follow the schedule, it's time, it's time, it's time, it's time-
The black-haired man exhales with a shaky breath, eyes blown wide. He awakes like this every morning. He starts his days with little sleep and an ache in his bones. Every day at the exact same time, no sleeping in. That's a luxury he hasn't been allowed. It's a wonder he hasn't keeled over yet.
He glances over at the other male asleep in the bed. Tomura's facing him, cheek pressed up against one of the many pillows in the bed. There's a puddle of drool underneath him. His dirt-caked fingers are still locked with Dabi's own burnt ones.
Tomura will be mad to see Dabi's disappearance when he wakes up. That'll be a given. Still, he knows what Dabi has to do. It's not something he can stop. 'Not yet, anyways,' says a hopeful part of himself. Tomura will be mad, but he'll get over it, peppering his faces with kisses at night, falling asleep, then starting the whole process all over again in the morning.
Even now, the apartment's already calling to him. He jerks as a particularly strong pain jabs at his chest. 'All right, all right. He's coming.' He exits the safety and warmth their shared bed supplies, warm feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. Time to start his day.
Dabi rummages through Tomura's closet, grabbing a sweater and a pair of jeans. They've lived together for a while now, their clothes having become mixed together. No one really knows whose clothes are who anymore, but it doesn't really matter. He pulls on a baggy sweater that he's pretty sure started as Tomura. It's a process to get dressed. His body aches with decades old pain that only gets worse by the year. When he's finally dressed, he casts one last look back at Tomura before exiting the room.
Looks like there's going to be no time for breakfast today. The apartment complex's calling put to him, and he lets himself be pulled throughout the building like a fish on a hook. He grabs his jacket and boots before exiting Tomura's apartment.
Time to face the day.
_____________
THE BUILDING'S AURA hums happily as Dabi begins work on weeding the gardens located at the back of the building. The new buildings that have sprouted up overtime around the apartment cast a dark shadow on the plot of land. Still, he manages to plant his garden year after year.
He's on his hand and knees, carefully picking apart the weeds from the flowers growing there. The building seems grateful for the weeding of the plants. The strong pull it's had on him seems to loosen, and it makes it a little easier to breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
Dabi's beginning to nod off with each passing second. He keeps jerking himself awake, but he's pretty sure he started drooling at some point. The lack of sleep is truly getting to him. It's not like he can do much about it, though. Duty calls.
The black-haired man doesn't even notice Tomura coming up behind him. He nearly jumps out of his skin with the other's hand lands on his shoulder. He whips around, sighing in relief to find it's only Tomura. He murmurs something unintelligible, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Tomura sits down next to him, cross-legged in the dirt. He sets down a picnic basket, preceding to lean against Dabi's back. He plants a kiss on the man's cheek before letting out a hum.
"Wha 're you doin' here?" Dabi questions sleepily, still not fully awake. It's far too early for Tomura to be up. He needs the sleep. He shouldn't be up at the ass-crack of dawn with Dabi.
Slyly, Tomura sneaks his arms around the other man's waist, gesturing to the picnic basket with a nod of his head. "You didn't eat breakfast this morning, did you? Thought you could use some."
As Dabi slips a few carefully wrapped sandwiches out of the basket, Tomura continues, "I also thought I'd help you with your work today. With another person, you could get it done twice as fast. Then you'd have time for a nap… Don't look at me like that, baby, you need it."
He gives a tired sigh. "I can't ask you to do this for me-"
"It wasn't an offer," Tomura insists, watching as Dabi's shaking hands fumble while trying to unwrap the sandwich. Tomura takes it from his hands, unwrapping it for him. "I'm doing it out of my own free will. Now, eat your sandwich and come join me when you're done."
The man picks up where Dabi left off weeding. Dabi watches him warily, trying to pick up what the building seems to think about this. To his surprise, the building doesn't seem to mind. It seems rather happy to have another set of hands working for it.
He finishes two sandwiches before his stomach begins to protest. Tomura seems satisfied with the amount. He gestures for Dabi to come join him. Together, they weed the garden, shoulders brushing against each other as they work side by side. The building seems to be at peace.
Dabi lets himself breathe.
Tomura hums softly as he works, and Dabi can't help but look at him in awe. The morning sunrise is casting a gentle light on the white-haired male. He looks ethereal, like an angel. 'Perhaps he is an angel,' Dabi muses to himself as he works. His guardian angel. After all, Tomura was always there in his time of need.
He'll never understand why Tomura's decided to stay. Most people don't stay in the building long let alone get to know Dabi. Tomura's strange. He likes that.
Lo and behold, the work gets finished rather quickly. Dabi can't recall ever finishing a task this early. The building seems pleased, and the pressure in his chest has yet to return. Tomura turns to him, dirt caked onto his cheeks, and smiles. "So, what's next on the chore list?"
_____________
WITH TOMURA'S HELP, the rest of his chores get done rather quickly. The building is satisfied, the strong pull it's had on him receding into a dull throbbing at the back of his head. He hasn't felt such a loose connection since he first came to this building. It's weird, and his hands shake with the urge to keep working, a never-ending buzz running through his skin.
The white-haired male notices the tremors throughout his body, gently guiding him to his living room couch. Tomura throws his favorite wool blanket over him, narrowing his eyes. "Sleep. You better not leave this couch. I know you have time to sleep today."
Dabi laughs in response, but he can feel his eyes getting heavy. His legs twitch on the couch, the constant urge to keep moving even without the apartment's pull. "I'll try, but we'll see… I'd sleep a lot better with you next to me, mophead."
Tomura throws a pillow at him. " Sleep ."
"Fine, fine."
He lets his eyes fall shut, burrowing further underneath the blanket. In the background, he hears Tomura put on a record player, sort jazz echoing throughout his apartment. Tomura begins to hum along and Dabi lets himself drift off with a smile on his face.
_____________
TOMURA CASTS A glimpse over at the black-haired male sleeping on the couch. He lets his shoulders relax when he's assured the man's fallen into a deep sleep. A deep sigh escapes his lips, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.
It's hard to see Dabi run himself ragged like this. It's bittersweet to see him actually get a nap in the middle of the afternoon. He hardly gets any sleep at night. Simply doesn't have the time for it. Tomura's glad that the male's asleep, but with him in such a state of vulnerability, he can truly see how much stress the man is carrying.
He rolls up his sleeves before getting to work. While Dabi's chores may be over for the time being, Tomura's most certainly are not . While it wouldn't be a necessity to do this task in anyone else's eyes, it is in Tomura's.
With a huff, he carefully places on of the oldest books in his collection onto the coffee table, careful as to not slam it so he didn't wake Dabi up. He opens the book, quickly skimming through the faded yellow pages. He finds another promising read, letting his eyes examine the ancient text.
This brew looks hopeful (of course, so had the last thousand). He presses his lips into a firm line, scurrying around his cluttered apartment to find the needed materials. Dabi remains passed out on the couch for the time being.
"Lavender?" Tomura murmurs, reading aloud from the text. He knows Dabi's got some growing in that garden of his. He snatches his keys off the table, exiting his apartment in search of the flower.
Of course, luck never seems to be on his nor Dabi's side. As he shuts the door, he comes face to face with a familiar male.
Tomura freezes, red eyes staring at his own. The man's still wearing his usual drab clothing, that damned scarf wrapped around his neck. A peculiar fashion statement, but Tomura knows better than to call it that. Next to the man is Tomura's neighbor, Hitoshi, who's busy fishing his own keys out of his pockets. He looks up at the both of them, eyes locking on the exchange. "... Uh, Sensei?"
An unfriendly smile reaches Tomura's lips. "Ah, Aizawa. It's been a while, hasn't it?"