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Today finds me folded up on the armchair, wings draped over one arm of the chair, tucked into a little ball to play a "find the hidden objects" game on my phone. Shigaraki is in their usual cramped corner of the couch, reading an obscure manga I hadn't even heard of before he explained it to me in elaborate detail. This one's one of his favorites though, it's cover worn down by their fingers past recognition.
I squint at my screen. Damnit, where's the set of keys in this. As if in answer, I hear a familiar jingle and click of house keys, and the telltale creak of Dabi's door. His rings click together when he scratches Sweetie between his ears. Himiko named him. "We're outta monster, and Himiko wants gum, so I'm headin' out. You fuckers need anythin'?"
"Nah, I'm good," I say, stretching out. Shigaraki shakes their head.
"Right, okay. Biiirdy," he blows me a kiss which I catch and flip him off. Then, more quietly, he says, "Tomura," and presses a kiss to their head as he passes the couch, "I'll see you gayasses laaaaterrrr," and slams the door behind him.
Shigaraki snorts and I roll my eyes, then refocus on my game. Ah, there's the keys, on the coat rack for some reason. Out of the corner of my eye I see Shigaraki put one of their unconventional bookmarks in (this one seems to be an old perfume sample) and put aside the book. Their eyes lock on me and, ah, either he's going to come over and kiss at me until I stop playing, or this will be an interesting conversation.
"You never call me Tomura," He says it like a statement, but their head is tilted in question, "Even though you have known me for at least a year."
Oh. I lock my phone. "You haven't asked me to," I shuffle my wings, "and I didn't want to be rude."
He gives me a flat look, and deadpans, "We have fucked. We are in some kind of arrangement of dating each other. You have seen me cry."
Well when they put it like that... but still, "You haven't asked me to."
They lean forward, "I call you Keigo. You know why I would flinch when we eat at a restaurant. You know the categorization I use for the video games in my room, and how it’s different from the one for the ones under the TV."
I know it comes out a little too frantic when I repeat, "You haven't asked me to." He's silent at that. I start to pick at the nail polish Himiko had painted onto my talons late at night last week. When I look up again, Shigaraki is opening and closing his mouth with a look that they only get when they're going to ask for something that they think they shouldn't get. I've long resolved to say yes to anything he says when he gets like this. I wait.
Finally, he takes a deep breath, voice quiet when he says, "Come sit next to me, Keigo?"
A small shiver crawls up my spine, and I nod, leaving my phone on the chair as I move to sit facing them on the couch. We both have a hard time making eye contact sometimes, so I know he'll forgive me for staring at the dry skin under his eyes, the scarring at his neck. I need to reapply their skin cream soon.
"You can call me Tomura," they pause, clearly expecting an answer, but I stay quiet. "This... isn't about the name," another statement-question. Shame spreads at the back of my neck. I shake my head. They reach for my hand but stop just short, fingertips brushing my knuckles. I hear them take a small breath, and, "Keigo."
He expects me to explain, I know that, but all I can do is pull in a shaky breath. How do I explain that this is one of the last degrees of separation before I become a part of 'we'? That I am still not used to the fact that Kurogiri will explain this week's outing and that everyone is going, and that everyone includes me? Or how Shuichi will talk about wanting to go bowling and everyone expects that I will come, because he genuinely wants me there? I take another breath, "...can I really?"
"You can," but he doesn't get it. Does he? I look up at them and almost flinch at the amount of care on their face.
“I mean that- It’s just-” I scramble for words, “I mean it’s not just-”
“You can.” I give him a frustrated glare, but they just continue, “No matter what it is, I,” he fidgets, two fingertips rubbing at the back of my knuckles.
“What?” I ask, almost under my breath.
“I,” they close their eyes and sigh, “I trust you.”
I stare at him until he opens his eyes again, and then some more. We stay quiet like that for a while, and I try my best to ignore the happy chatter building up slowly at the back of my throat, but it shows a little when I finally say, “...you. Trust me ?”
They finally look away from me, ears red, and mutter, “Don’t make me say it again.”
I grab his face with both hands and he startles, but stays still in my hands. They trust me. Both of us know how much it takes to trust. Both of us know this is the closest we can say to ‘I love you’, at least for now. I feel his cheeks heat beneath my palms.
I chew at my bottom lip, and they stare at it. I stare at where his eyebrows are growing back in. I rub my thumb across their cheek and lean in until their eyes snap back up to mine. Breath in, breath out, “Tomura,” and I can’t help the way it’s laced with almost reverence.
They squeeze their eyes shut, like it hurts, the way they do when something makes them feel tender, so I lean in, until I feel his breath fanning over my face, and I kiss him.
That’s how Dabi finds us, still kissing each other slowly, with Tomura’s back now pressed back against the armrest. One of their hands has started sliding up the back of my shirt, and I have my hands on either side of them, holding myself up. I distantly hear the door unlock, and think, fuck, if Kurogiri finds us like this right now- but instead heavy boots step through, and the rustle of a plastic bag, and I know who it is. I kiss Tomura harder and he makes a small sound into my mouth, and just as I expected,
“Oh? What’s happened here?” I look up to see a characteristic grin splitting Dabi’s face.
I sit back on my heels and breathe out, “Tomura.”
Dabi’s eyes widen and flick between us, and I glance at Tomura to see them still dazed and flushed, lips parted. They look good like that. I look back at Dabi and reach for him, stretching up so I can pull him in from the back of his neck to kiss him languid and deep, and I can taste the cigarette he smoked before he came in. When we part, he snorts, and Sh- Tomura’s hand is sliding back up my side, glove rough against my skin.
“Did you find what you wanted?” They ask, moving so they can kiss at where my shirt has slipped a little off my shoulder.
Dabi’s eyes are stuck to where Tomura’s kissing, but he still says, “Yeah. I also got some of Birdy’s favorite candy. Don’t know why he likes that abomination of a combination but y’know.”
“You didn’t say that last time you ate half of my Reese’s stash.”
“Shut it, feathers.”
They leave the side of my neck with a parting nip, still a bit breathless when they interrupt my next quip with a, “If all you two are going to do is bicker, at least get out the snacks.” He then looks up at me through his bangs, “Unless you’re up for something else?”
I bite back a flinch, because they know me, I know I have nothing to fear with them, and reply “Not really…” and because old habits die hard, “so anyway, snacks?”
“Ah-” starts Tomura.
“Keigo.” Dabi spits out at the same time that Tomura continues “Was it too much earlier?”
“Dabi, shut the fuck up, and no, it wasn’t. Just a weird gender day. I wasn’t pushing myself, but now that we stopped I don’t feel up for more, really.”
Tomura kisses beside my ear before pulling his hand away from my waist and adjusting his half-gloves. Dabi settles down and lightly scuffs the side of my head, looking a bit embarrassed to show that he cared that much. Usually I’d needle him about it, but… It’s nice to be worried about.
“C’mon then,” He mutters, and tosses the plastic bag onto the kitchen’s bar counter. He starts rummaging through the cupboards looking for chips before pulling out doritos and plain pringles. I get to my feet, stretch out my wings, shake out both legs and their talons before offering my hands to help Tomura up. Their mouth is slanted in a way that barely looks like a grin, but I know it as all fond, fond, fond.
I pull them up and hold their hand as we move to the table, giving it a quick squeeze before digging into the plastic bag for the extra large bag of Reese's mini buttercups. Bingo! I tug it out with a triumphant grin, to see Tomura, looking with feigned disinterest and Dabi looking at me like he’s been waiting for my reaction since he saw the candy in the store. Or like he wants to dissect my smile. I snort in his face and huff as I tear open the bag and pop a few into my mouth.
“Anything interesting?” Tomura reaches to scratch at his face as he speaks and I knock his back gently with a wing. I know the lack of force that went behind that hit and yet they still level me with a chilly stare.
Dabi wasn’t paying attention, judging from the way he raises an eyebrow at Tomura’s flat expression, but he answers regardless, “Yeah, for some reason out by the shop they’d put up stuffed toys in open freezers.”
Both of us stutter, Tomura, in pure confusion. I start to laugh imagining half frozen teddy bears.
Dabi tells us about the fight he overheard between a lady and the cashier, and we eat through the snacks. Tomura reaches for Dabi’s hand halfway through and rubs their thumb across the seam of his palm while he talks, but it doesn’t stop Dabi from gesturing lazily with his free hand. The story reminds me of an argument I watched from the apartment in the neighboring building that I may have flown a feather over to hear in detail, so I began to elaborately gesture from my seat as I explain who was involved and why they were fighting. I’m part way through telling them the affair one of the women had when I feel Tomura’s hand on the soft feathers and hair at the back of my neck. I feel a grin spread on my face, and I don't fight it.
I’m not sure when we started talking about optimal candy shapes, but the sun is setting through the blinds. I reach for the bag of candy again but Dabi whacks my hand and seals it closed, I snort and send a few feathers into his hair as revenge. Tomura pulls his hand away from the back of my neck while Dabi picks out the feathers.
“Shigaraki Tomura, Dabi, Takami Keigo,” Kurogiri nods at each of us as he enters, “I need to use the kitchen, so unless any of you are generously offering help…” It’s eyes sharpen.
Dabi gulps, my feathers fluff up and Tomura stands and grabs my hand, “We were just about to leave to play Mario Kart.” they declare, and the two of us nod like bobble heads as we’re dragged off.
I hear Kurogiri’s soft laugh behind me, then Sako’s gently tapping my shoulder in greeting as we pass her in the hallway. She joins Kurogiri in the kitchen, and we leave their murmurs behind as Tomura shuts the door to his room behind us.
“Close call,” Dabi says, before flopping face first on Tomura’s bed.
“...It’s not so bad” Tomura replies, but sounds entirely unconvinced. They cross the room with a quirk to their mouth, only to sit on Dabi’s boney ass purely to get the loud yelp we both know so well.
I laugh, and join them on the bed, pressing my face into Tomuras chest until he leans back into the pillows. Dabi huffs and pouts as he turns to curl around us both, but his body is deliberately warm, and he rubs his face on my shoulder as he does it. He doesn’t fool anyone. We stay tangled together until the city lights glow through the window, and Dabi asks if we were still going to play Mario Kart.
We crowd around the shitty TV, and eventually Shuichi joins us, then Himiko too, then Jin squeezes into Tomura’s room, as we argue over what game to play. It takes half an hour of chatter before Shuichi and Tomura finally begin their debate on Starchasers or Mario Kart 6, which prefaces almost every single league gaming session. While Tomura’s hoarse voice raises to make his point, I press my face into Dabi’s warm neck, rubbing my nose against the texture of his scars. He hums as he rubs a thumb across my collar bone. Himiko giggles and tells Jin to look at Shuichi’s face, and Jin laughs loud enough to startle both gamers. Dabi traces shapes on my shoulder.
“All good, birdy?” he murmurs.
“Yeah,” I breathe against his skin, “Yeah. Just perfect.”