Work Text:
“Is that blood?”
“Would you believe it’s strawberry jam?”
Keigo lets out a belabored sigh and steps away from the window to let Dabi in from the fire escape. He ambles in with the same lack of grace that only crawling through a window can provide. Frankly, Keigo thinks it’s a miracle that he hasn’t face planted coming up from there.
“Come on.” He herds Dabi to the ensuite bathroom and the villain hops up onto the counter after removing his shoes and shrugging out of his coat.
The damage is far less drastic than Keigo had anticipated for the way that Dabi’s face and arms are bleeding. There’s a number of places where the staples have been ripped out, raw skin and fragmented scar tissue left behind and blood seeping out from the places between, but the majority of Dabi’s blood is still inside of him, thankfully.
He wasn’t sporting a bullet wound, which was a step up from last time.
“I think you just like me patching you up.”
“You make such a good nurse, pigeon; all you need is the skirt and the pumps.” Dabi’s smile turns crooked before wincing at the way it pulls at the split staples on his face. Keigo raises a hand and slowly starts to pull what’s left of them out, setting them on the edge of the counter. Afterwards, he follows up with a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic, cooing as Dabi hisses at the pain.
“Don’t be such a baby.”
“You try getting that shit near your eye and I’ll hear you whining.”
“I never whine.” Keigo glances down as Dabi’s foot comes around the back of his leg, pulling him closer until he’s forced between Dabi’s parted thighs. From here he can smell the blood and distinct stale air that clings to Dabi’s clothes when he’s been at the League hideout.
“And I know that’s bullshit. I love when you whine.”
Keigo applies a little more pressure and smirks when Dabi hisses and reels back.
“You’re a fucking bitch,” he grits out without any real heat. Dabi reaches to the side and pulls open the drawer, picking up the box of medical grade staples that Keigo has been keeping on hand for awhile now. At one point, the ramifications of that would have bothered Dabi, but it’s hard to be bent out of shape when Keigo keeps t-shirts, pants, and strawberry pocky on hand in addition to the staples. Dabi has carved himself out a place in Keigo’s life with very little complaint from the man himself; now isn’t the time to start bitching because Keigo has started to make that hole a little more comfortable.
“Yet you still like me.” When Dabi pulls one out and turns towards the mirror to slide it back into place, Keigo covers his hand and then takes the staple from him. For a moment, Dabi debates telling him he can handle it, but then Keigo is putting a hand to his cheek with such a tenderness that something in the pit of his stomach all but melts. So Dabi sits still, chin lifted up as Keigo focuses on the task at hand. He takes his hand from Dabi’s cheek and slowly slides one end into the scar tissue, folding the tooth down before pressing the uninjured flesh down with his index finger, letting the skin naturally stretch so that Keigo can slide the other end in and fold it up so that Dabi’s face is secured. He pulls back once he’s finished and nods, waiting for confirmation that it’s done correctly. Dabi pressing his fingers on either side of the newly placed staple before moving his face this way and that.
“You’re getting good at that.”
“You’re giving me way too much practice.” Keigo picks up another staple and starts to work on the next replacement. “What even happened this time? Did you say something to Shigaraki?”
Dabi laughs and tries hard not to move the left side of his face too much.
“Like Shig’s got this kind of swing. Nah, some of the new recruits got too fucking full of themselves. Nothing I didn’t handle.” What were a couple of charred husks from troublemakers who couldn’t get in line? He sees the way that Keigo tenses a little and he knows that Keigo doesn’t necessarily approve of the things he does, but he never says it. Most of the time, they leave those kinds of differences at the door.
“Aw, c’mon, not like I had much of a choice. They started to get…” Dabi gestures to himself, “rowdy. So I handled it and now we don’t have to worry about them getting rowdy with the League.”
“Why do you always get the rowdy ones?” Keigo picks up another staple.
“Luck of the draw? My good looks? My impeccable charm?”
Keigo snorts and outright laughs when Dabi reaches a hand out to pinch his side.
“You saying I ain’t got those things?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, you’re just being a wiseass about it.” Dabi pinches his side again and Keigo coils away, throwing him a look.
“I’m gonna pull a staple out if you don’t knock it off.”
“Oh no, not a pulled staple.” Dabi reaches a hand up and pulls at his skin, making the separation more exaggerated until blood spills across his fingers. Keigo hisses and swats his hands away, abandoning the staple to grab another cotton pad and mop up the blood.
“Alright, alright, you made your point. Quit bleeding all over everything.”
Dabi flicks the sink on for a second, rinsing the blood off of his hand before wiping his cleaned fingers along the spare towel before putting both hands on Keigo’s hips.
“You seriously saying I ain’t got good looks or charm? How the fuck did I land you, then?”
“Maybe I was really drunk.”
“What was your excuse last night?”
“It was dark.” Keigo’s barely fighting off a grin.
“And the night before that?”
“My bed was cold and you were the warmest thing nearby.”
Dabi reaches a hand up and takes Keigo’s in his own, using it to pull him closer until they’re almost nose-to-nose.
“And what’s your excuse going to be tonight, pretty bird?”
He sees the way that Keigo’s feathers ruffle at the nickname.
“My savior complex?”
“Yeah? I’ve got a sneaking suspicion you just really like me.”
Keigo makes a motion of rolling his eyes.
“Now that’s got to be the blood loss talking.”
“Nope,” Dabi pops the ‘p’, “you’re gone on me. You like me so much.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Keigo smiles through Dabi leaning in to steal a kiss, struggling to close his lips enough to reciprocate it.
“You think I’m pretty and smart and sexy.”
“You’re delirious is what you are.” But Keigo wraps his arms around Dabi and lets him continue to kiss him. It eventually devolves into Dabi rubbing his hands up and down Keigo’s back as he tastes him, reacquainting himself with the slightly sweet, mostly warm taste. It reminds him that, for the number of times he goes out and deals with shit like the League and their recruits, there’s nothing like coming back here to Keigo’s embrace. For as long as this lasts, Dabi will cherish every single moment of it.
“I’ve got a confession,” Keigo whispers against Dabi’s mouth as they pull away. “I think I like you.”
“I fucking knew it.”
