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It’s been a couple of hours since Dabi left the base and you are growing anxious by the minute. How could you not? The trip to gather supplies should have taken him an hour at most.
You entertain yourself with the improvised stew you’re cooking. Rather than hunger, it was the hope of a headpat from your partner and a compliment what drove you to start making dinner, since he usually was the one to use the fire. It smells pretty good despite the limitations you face and the poor ingredients. Still, the sky is getting darker, and you fear the worse in the bottom of your heart.
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As you see the diced potatoes float, you wonder what it is that you really fear in the event that Dabi doesn't come back.
Were you scared of being alone in a collapsing world? Doomed to roam around without someone else to rely on? The answer is no. You grew used to that way before meeting your latter partner.
So the unfortunate conclusion is that you’re just attached to him.
You and the once stranger tried everything to avoid this. You know that any feelings might compromise your survival rate, so you followed a set of rules: no names, no personal information, no sleeping next to each other and no physical contact.
The problem was that you had already broken two of them.
At first, you were determined to stay at least two feet away from Dabi at all times. You read somewhere that physical touched released some kind of hormones or whatever substance that increased the levels of trust and affection between two people. So it was easy: avoid touching him at all costs. It was easy… until it wasn’t that easy.
It was the dead of winter and you were trembling. Even though you were covered with several blankets and inside a building, you had never been that cold before. Dabi noticed this as he was awake, keeping an eye on the fire. He muttered a few words offering his help, you agreed, because Dabi seemed to practically radiate heat, and from then on, you slept together under the same blankets. Cuddling, to add insult to injury. And, little by little, that led to Dabi to break the other rule. He accustomed to leave small, fether-like touches on your shoulder, then poking your cheek and patting your head. And you liked it, way much more than you should.
The potatoes keep floating on the soup and Dabi hasn’t arrived yet. The sky is orange and dark blue at equal parts. You relive his touch and make up your mind. It’s something you’re going to regret, but you can’t help it.
As you take your bag and a rifle, you hear footsteps. Right after, his voice resonates in the silence of your shelter.
“Where the fuck are you going, Sunshine? It’s almost nighttime.”
Your eyes are wide open. Your hands clutch the rifle. You try to say something, anything really, but only stammering leaves your mouth.
“Well?” Dabi rises an eyebrow, ready to tease you. “Don’t tell me you were going to go out there to look for me?”
“You were gone for hours”, you justify yourself.
You can see in his face that he wants to tell you off. That you shouldn’t leave the base with all the equipment alone, that it could’ve been dangerous, that if he disappears you must keep going on. Better one person dead than two. But he says nothing about that. Dabi just sighs.
“C’mon. Let’s eat. You made dinner, right?”
After leaving on the side his heavy backpack and a couple of bags, right next to the rest of supplies, Dabi turns around and sits on the piled rugs next to the fire, over which the pot is hovering. You leave the weapon and your things where they were before, then take the bowls that are lying around and hand them to him.
“It smells so good. But why didn’t you wait for me?”, asks the man as he’s pouring you and himself a ration of stew.
“I… I thought you’d be tired, so I wanted to have it ready beforehand,” you admit. So much for not forming a bond with the man.
“If you keep doing it this well, you’ll end up in charge of cooking,” he says with a mouthful. “Are these the potatoes you grew?”
“Yes.”
You keep eating quietly until there’s nothing left. Usually, you chatter with Dabi about the latest expedition, or the state of the garden, or anything at all. However, right now, something feels off. You’re scared of the nature of your feelings for Dabi and you’re still upset about his prolongued absence. So you remain quiet. Which isn’t the smartest move, because Dabi is quite observant.
His bright blue eyes are fixed on your face.
“What’s wrong, Sunshine?” Dabi leaves the dining utensils aside and sits next to you. You prefer his warmth to that of the bonfire. He’s not shy, so he sits right next to you, his shoulder and leg bumping yours. “Usually, you don’t even greet me and proceed to rummage the bags. And usually you don’t stop talking, either, while doing so. Or while eating. So, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing”, you say, avoiding his eyes. He frowns.
“Are you mad because I took longer than what was planned? Look, I didn’t mean-”
“No”, you interrupt him. This time, you turn your face around as you shake your hands. You think of all the problems you have, the lack of food, the dangers of desperate people, anything but how close his face is. “I’m not mad, okay? Just… worried.” You don’t elaborate more.
You’re surprised when you see his smile grow. Of course he know what's going on. He can read you like a book.
“Worried?”, he chuckles. “Aw, don’t tell me you were worried that I was dead?”
“Well, what do you think? It’s way more convenient having you around than being alone”, you concede. It’s not entirely a lie.
“Sure…”
Dabi stands up. You’re going to do the same, but he sits you back with a pat on your shoulder. He fishes a couple of things from the interior of his backpack, and hides them behind his back. You are curious, moving your head around to peek, but he’s adamant on not showing anything.
“Don’t you want to know what took so long?”, the man asks.
You nod. Suddenly, two items are dropped on your lap.
One of them is a box of your favourite chocolates. To your delight, it’s not expired. The other is a gingerbread heart that reads ‘Merry Christmas’. It’s not expired either. You’re happy, for you haven’t tried anything like this in ages, yet you’re confused all the same.
“Dabi?”
“Yes?”
“Why?”
“Don’t you like it?”, your partner questions. He’s not disappointed, but calm.
“I do. But you risked your life and you don’t even like sweets.”
“Hm.” He takes the box in his hands and examines it. After a couple of seconds, he sets it aside. “Okay, to be fair, I don’t dislike them, but I prefer watching you enjoying them rather than enjoying them myself.”
“Oh”, that’s all you can say.
For a moment, you let yourself think that maybe you're not the only one affected by your situation with Dabi.
“Do you know what day is it?”
“Tuesday?”
“Didn’t you check the calendar?” He chuckles again. It might be your new favourite sound.
“Not today,” you admit.
“It’s February 14th.” Dabi smiles and scratches his neck. “The heart wasn’t supposed to say ‘Merry Christmas’, but when you raid a destroyed supermarket you can’t be too picky, you know?”
You hug the gingerbread to your heart and look into his eyes.
“Do you mean this? All of this?”
“What? What are you talking about?” Now it’s his turn to be confused.
“I was worried of not seeing you again”, you declare with a weak voice. “Not of being alone, but being witout you. I don’t really want to go back to a life without Dabi.”
His pupils go down to your lips, then back to your eyes.
“Can you be clearer? Because I don’t want to do anything that will get me a punch in the face.”
You breath deeply. Dabi’s actions were basically a declaration of love, right? You had nothing to lose.
“I want to break out partnership. I’m afraid I have feelings for you.”
When did he get closer? You’re practically on Dabi’s arms, one of them surrounding your back and caging you against him, the other playing with your hair. His smell, of gunpowder, sweat and detergent, saturates your nose.
“What feelings?”, he teases. “Hate? Love? Interest?”
“Dabi, shut up, you know perfectly-”
Then, the overdue kiss comes along. His lips press against yours. It’s rather chaste, probing your willingness.
“Do you really like my mug? Haven’t you seen the scars? Do I need to look for prescription glasses next time? That may take even longer. Days of search.”
“Dabi, you’re an idiot, but you’re hot,” you say, then you kiss him again.
You don’t waste your chance and hug him back, something you’ve wanted to do for a long time. This time, the kiss is fumbling, and more intense. You feel his scarred skin, and the way he smiles into your lips. Dabi bites your lips lightly.
“This might complicate everything,” he points out.
“I don’t care”, you answer. His big hand rests on your cheek.
“In that case, if you want to complicate things further…”, he adds with the smirk of a scoundrel, “I found condoms that are good to use.”
“Dabi!” you scold as you bury your face on his chest.
He’s going to be the end of you.