Chapter Text
Mon-chan would’ve liked to take a stroll in the snow with him, probably. There was no use thinking about this right now, so many years later. Mon-chan was gone and everything was different now. Even father was no more.
Yet, there was something inherently sad about Christmas every year. Maybe the associated happiness, how it was supposed to be a happy season, but he had none of that; maybe it was the repulse he felt for the way people followed unquestioningly the tradition that was livid representation of capitalism; or maybe, it was the way he didn’t seem to be able to stay warm, no matter how many hoodies he throws on himself.
He didn’t know for sure. The only thing he knew was that he hated Christmas, and that he felt some sort of strange melancholy.
He was splayed out on his bed. He tried playing videogames to distract his mind, but he only found himself frustrated at his lack of concentration and his constant mistakes, leaving him like a loser. So he turned off the PC and now is on the bed, utterly bored and with this weird nostalgic feeling bothering him. Why should he be bothered like this? He didn’t know, but his neck was starting to itch and so, absently start to scratch at it, even when it was already sore and red.
He shouldn’t be thinking about Christmas, to begin with. He should put his time to better use refining his plan to overthrow the hero society. He shouldn’t be thinking about how nice it could be if someone wanted to take a stroll with him, slowly walking through the alleys, drinking hot chocolate and talking about mundane affairs. Mon-chan probably would’ve liked to take a stroll with him, but he was only a dog and he died many years ago. There was no use thinking about that.
Maybe he’s been watching too much shojo anime, which is shitty as fuck, not to mention cringe. But Toga all but forced him to watch a show with her and he, always an otaku and freak, spent the subsequent nights watching similar shows. There was something surprisingly enjoyable in watching cringy shows, he can’t help it. But it also reminded him that he was alone. He’s always been alone, and he’ll die like that too.
Not that it really matters, because, well, his goal is not to have people appreciating him, but to destroy everything that he hates, starting with All Might.
He sighs. Back when he was a little kid, did he receive any Christmas present? He doesn’t really remember much of his life before his master. And his master definitely didn’t give him a single Christmas present, ever. He said there’s no use getting attached to that petty celebration, which he agrees to. But…
Sometimes, he can’t help but wonder what is it like. What’s like to have someone you love spending the day with you, having a date with them, having dinner together and receiving a present that they know you’d like to get. What is it like to be all cheesy and cringe and gross with someone on the so called most romantic day of the year. Even when he’s aware of the absurdity of it all.
But it will never happen. There’re too many reasons.
Starting by his obvious ugliness. His face is all a mess, his hair is untamable and his posture is shit. Then, he knows he doesn’t have the best personality of them all. He’s whiny, he’s picky, he gets irritated easily, he’s spoiled to a fault and bossy as fuck; there’s no way someone could stand him. Third, he is a fucking villain. Who in their right mind would want to be with one of Japan’s most wanted man? Hilarious, people all fantasize with heroes, either with becoming one or being the lover of one. No one wants anything to do with villains, unless they are other villains, and even then, villains just fight among each other, they don’t just date. That’s a ridiculous thought.
Not that he thinks about being lover of another villain… not really. Like, he knows there’s no way it can happen. He’s well aware he’s disgusting. The other villain even said that to his face…
Ah, not that there’s actually a villain he wants to be with. No, that would be an overstatement. Just. There’s a villain that is… attractive –for the lack of a better word– somehow. And it’s merely curiosity what he feels. Yes, he’s only curious about him because Tomura doesn’t know a lot of people and, among the ones he does know, he is the only one to ever strike him as attractive –for the lack of a better word, really– and that has a… somehow interesting personality, even if shitty as fuck; so, when he’s thinking about how would it be to have someone to be cheesy and gross with on Christmas, it’s easy to picture his hypothetical partner as someone he already knows.
But he knows it’s not possible. Dabi hates him; he’s made that abundantly clear. And it would be stupid and pathetic of him to hope otherwise.
He’s a little startled when he feels the pillow in his hands suddenly banishing, he tilts his head up to see it turn into dust. He sighs, it’s been a long while since he last destroyed something without meaning it; he usually is in perfect control of his quirk, but it seems this topic affected him more than he thought. How utterly pathetic.
He sighs and gets up. There’s no use thinking about this anymore. He already knows he’s not worthy, he already knows no one would be able to feel attracted to him –let alone love him–, even if they really tried. But no, it is his destiny to be alone and die alone.
He heads to the bar. He’s not fond of drinking, but maybe tonight he’ll lose himself in cheap whisky. He’s alone in the LOV base, everyone found something fun to do on Christmas eve but him, apparently, even Kurogiri.
Or so he thought. But when he opened the door, he was there, sitting at the bar; a glass of something, maybe whisky, in front of him as he absently looks into nowhere and smokes a cigar. He’s so infuriating just by being there doing nothing. Even if he’s somewhat attractive –the lack of a better word, really, he means it–, he’s still annoying. He doesn’t seem to have noticed him though.
Now, what should he do? Go back to his room and pretend he didn’t see him? Ignore him and grab a drink for himself anyway? Or start a fight with him? they do fight a lot. After thinking about it for a second, he decides going for the second option, ignore him.
He crosses the room and grabs a glass and the whisky bottle Dabi left nearby. It’s only then that Dabi looks up and notices him. Instantly, his face changes from completely blank to a wide smirk.
“Hey creep. Don’t have any plans today other than staying here? Such a loser.”
“Like you’re one to talk. Drinking and smoking all alone, pathetic.” He rolls back his eyes, he’s knows too well that Dabi only wants to mess with him by now, besides, he’s not wrong.
“Ouch, merciless as ever, boss. Oh, here, let me pour you a drink.” He takes the whisky out of his hand before he can stop him.
Tomura glares at him. “I’m perfectly capable of pouring myself a drink.”
“So am I.”
The glare persists until he’s handed back his glass. “Why?”
“Why not? You’re the boss here, nothing strange in pouring you a little drink.”
“Don’t you really have anything better to do today?” Against his better judgment, he sits down on the stool next to Dabi. The other villain smirks.
“I do have plans for tonight if that’s what you’re asking.” He blows some smoke to the side, not to bother Tomura for once.
“What’s your plan, then?” He asks to distract himself from the fact that even someone like Dabi has –probably– a date tonight, but not him.
Dabi snorts. “You really wanna know, boss? Didn’t take you as the nosy type.” Tomura shrugs.
“Not that specially care, just asking.” Dabi’s smirk grows wider but he doesn’t say a thing for a while.
They stay silent, looking at each other. There’s a wretched Christmas tree on the far end of the bar that Kurogiri take the time to arrange, it’s old and kind of ugly and has only a few balls adorning it. But its lights reflect fun shadows and patterns on their faces. The atmosphere is weird. He’s still cold. He takes a swig from his glass, if only to distract himself, he doesn’t fully understand why did they get suddenly silent.
“I’ll let you know my plan.” Dabi says once he puts down the glass. Tomura looks at him curiously and slowly nods to invite him to go on. “There’s a beauty I know. They’re annoying as fuck, but they deserve a chance, me says. I got them a lil’ present, nothing fancy, just a scarf and gloves. I don’t know if they’ll like them. I stole them from the store, by the way. And placed my lovely little present by the tree.”
Tomura quickly glances at the tree to see if that’s true. It is. There’s a present poorly wrapped sitting there.
“So, I’m going to take them, or rather, him, on a date. We’re taking a sappy stroll around, taking care of not being seen of course, I don’t want the fucking police nor stupid heroes on my case tonight. We’ll talk about petty little things, but I’ll have this same whisky bottle with me all of the time, we’ll take sips of it to make the date more interesting, you know? To make conversation flow. Then, I’ll buy him something sweet, like a crepe or some shit like that. And I will bring him back here, give him the little present, then I’m going to take him to my room and fuck him as if there’s no tomorrow.”
“Gross.” Tomura says and looks away, blushing. He didn’t need to know that, but that’s what he gets for being nosy. Just, who is the man Dabi would go to so much trouble for? He feels instantly dejected while thinking about that.
“I think you’ll like it. Since you have the privilege to hear me on my love making, you’ll probably get aroused, perv.” He smirks wider than ever.
“Fuck you. I’ll go out, no way I’m hearing you getting gross.” He stands up and is ready to go, but Dabi takes his wrist before he can leave.
“Then, shall we go? To our date.” And he smirks again– no, he smiles, he actually smiles.
Tomura’s eyes widen as realization hits him. It could very well be Dabi meesing with him, again, but something tells him that’s not the case. He finds difficult to breathe for a moment. So he just nods. Dabi sighs as if he’s relieved and the hand taking his wrist, slides to intertwine their fingers.
“Let’s go.”