Work Text:
“Hi Dabi”
“Hi doll”
You had met 6 months ago, outside of a dilapidated nightclub. Fluorescent lights masked the blood stained shirt that clung to his exhausted body, smoke steaming from the staples that lined his face. He looked gaunt. He looked tired. He looked done.
You had stared at him unable to tell if he was actually in need of help or just another dodgy character waiting to prey on the kindness of someone innocent for their own personal gain.
You were no stranger to manipulation, living in this rough area for over a year now. So the fact you stood fiddling with your fingers as you debated whether to speak to him or not wasn’t all too surprising. You chose the latter, leaning down on the back of your knees, watching his chest rise and fall as you placed your hand on his thigh.
“Sir are you okay?”
You took his lack of response as a no, telling him you were going to help him up, piece him back together and take him somewhere safe. When his eyes finally met yours, a look of gratitude and skepticism filled them. He could tell you meant him no harm, it was himself he didn’t trust. He always wondered if you recognised him that day and chose to ignore his identity. He would often worry that you'd put yourself in a similar situation again, but the villain on the receiving end would not be so courteous. He'd never let that happen. He wouldn't let any harm come to you, not under his watchful eyes.
He hadn’t felt the tender touch of a helping hand in years. He craved it. He craved you. And so a kind gesture from you turned into an obsession for Dabi.
Now he sat on the fire escape outside your window each week. He made up excuses just to see you, stating that he was in the area or that he needed fixing, even for the most minor of injuries. In reality he only wanted to see you and feel the comfort of your touch no matter what length of time you had together before he was pulled back into his world of villainy, flicking back to his facade of cold and uncaring emotions.
“Long day?” You asked, placing the ceramic mug in his warm hands.
His eyes scanned your form. You’d lost weight. Next time, he’d bring you take out he thought. Maybe Chinese? You liked Chinese. It was only when your warm hand was placed upon his, was he then pulled from his roaming thoughts.
“Yeah something like that” He sighed, bringing the warm beverage to his mouth as his fingers intertwined with yours. A breath of solace left him as his head fell back, looking up at the starry sky above him. What he wouldn't give for this moment to stop forever. A place for only you, him and the endless mugs of tea you seemed to bring him with each visit.
He felt you shift, placing a large blanket across your laps. He would never show it, but he found great amusement in moments like these. You knew he was the living embodiment of flames, yet insisted on keeping him warm from the cool night air. With you he felt secure. He felt safe.
Your legs dangled back and forward through the air, watching the quiet movement of people in the streets below. Dabi was quiet today, his usual playful attitude nowhere in sight. Thus you kept quiet too, waiting for him to speak. Pressuring him was the last thing you'd ever want to do. Despite his aloof charm, inside he was a little boy who craved to be loved and appreciated. You knew this much. If he wished to speak he would, if he didn't you'd wait until he could. You felt Dabi’s grip on your hand tighten, drawing your attention back to him. He was staring at you.
An unreadable expression painting his face as he slowly brought your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon your reddened knuckles. His eyes scanned yours, searching for any form of rejection only to be greeted back with one of wanton. Dabi wasn’t an affectionate man. He struggled to express himself in any form other than rage. You had done nothing physical together other than hold hands. He alone was satisfied with the simplicity of your hands upon his skin, if only to clean his wounds. You were something pure. Who was he to taint you with his soiled hands.
“I missed you” he spoke softly as your hand left his, lifting to cup his face.
You watched quietly as he leaned into your touch, placing a soft kiss on the inside of your palm. His cerulean eyes burned holes into yours, trying to express how he felt as though he couldn’t through his own words. You understood, he knew this much. A soft smile graced your lips.
“Welcome home Dabi”