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Shigaraki and Dabi stumbled upon each other in the bar, as if fate had drawn a red thread between them. The neon lights softly illuminated the dim space, carving out the sharp features of their faces.
“Hey, pretty boy,” Shigaraki smirked, his voice low and husky. Dabi leaned against the bar, his eyes raking over Shigaraki's frame, appreciating the dark leather that hugged him in all the right places.
“And what do you want, handsy?” Dabi replied, a hint of a smile pulling at his lip piercings.
“Handsy, huh?” Shigaraki chuckled, his mismatched eyes glinting with amusement. He slid closer, the scent of cheap cigarettes and something distinctly leather filling the air between them.
“Well, I can assure you, I have other… ‘talents’,” he practically purred, his gaze dropping to Dabi's lips, lingering there for a moment before flickering back up to meet his eyes.
Shigaraki's gaze was intense as he observed Dabi. It was almost as if he was cataloguing every single detail of the other man. He took in the way the faint light caught the silver of his earrings, the subtle way his brow furrowed as if lost in thought, and how the corner of his lips curled slightly as if holding back a cynical remark.
His eyes roved over Dabi's patchwork skin, tracing the lines and curves, the way they interlocked like a dark and complex work
Dabi was a paradox of contrasts. His hair, a stark mess of black and white, mirrored the dichotomy of his soul. His eyes, a sharp, piercing blue, seemed to see right through whatever mask he was wearing. The piercings that adorned his face gleamed in the low light, drawing attention to his strong jawline and the faint scar that ran across his cheek. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, he had a certain rugged attractiveness about him, and his appearance hinting at a past fraught with turmoil and pain.
And everything about him shigaraki liked.
Shigaraki took a step closer, invading Dabi's personal space. He reached out, his fingers grazing over the patchwork skin on Dabi's arm, tracing the scars gently.
“You're quite a sight, you know,” he murmured, his voice lowering to a husky whisper, “all sharp edges and harsh lines, yet with a vulnerability to you that you try so hard to hide.”
A flicker of surprise flashed in Dabi's eyes as Shigaraki's touch sent small goosebumps rippling across his skin, a stark contrast to his usual aloof demeanor. He let out a chuckle, the sound low and gravelly, a hint of defensiveness tinging his words.
“Careful, handsy,” he warned, his lips curling into a half smirk. “I bite.”
The night continued, drinks were shared, and an unexpected chemistry developed between them. As the bar around them slowly cleared out, they found themselves in a quiet corner, their bodies close, the air between them thick with tension. A silent understanding was reached and with a wicked grin, Shigaraki took Dabi's hand in his own, linking their fingers together.
“Looks like I've found something I like,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on Dabi's face.
“You're mine now, firecracker.”