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In the end, it was Shigaraki’s stupid energy drinks’ fault.
The hour was late, shops were a few hours from closing, which of course meant their annual-but-not-really snack run that happened every time the others(being Toga and Twice) decided it was time for a movie night, had to be done at the small convenience store. The bill would be split later, but for now, Dabi paid.
And of course, the cashier had asked him for ID for the stupid cans of energy drinks Shigaraki liked for some reason. Dabi wasn’t carded often, he assumed it was because he looked like he was of age, or people were too intimidated by the scars and staples to ask. The lady behind the register had smiled gratefully when he handed it over without a word, quickly looking it over with practised ease.
“All in order, thank you,” she says as she hands him back his card. “Oh, and happy birthday sir!”
Dabi barely keeps a grimace from his face, repeating in his head that the cashier was just trying to be nice and didn’t deserve his snapping or glaring. His therapist would be so damn proud of him. He muttered a thank you before taking the stuffed plastic bag and left the store.
Or he would have, if Toga wasn’t standing right in his path to the exit, staring intently at him like her reality’s just been shattered.
“It's your birthday?” she whispers once he’s close enough, like it’s a scandalous secret she’s been made privy to.
"No." Dabi keeps his gaze straight ahead and walks right past her.
Toga is not deterred in the slightest. “But the pretty cashier lady said happy birthday!”
“You misheard.”
“After looking at your ID!” Toga says loudly, completely ignoring him and throwing her arms up as the doors slide open for them and the cool evening air hits them in the face. January was always a cold month. “Dabiii!”
Dabi grits his teeth. “Drop it.”
Toga pouts, resorting to hanging off his arm like a brat. “Tell meeee!”
“Tell you what? Keep it to yourself. ”
Shit.
The rest had walked out while Dabi had been paying, and was waiting in a cluster outside. This left all of them within hearing range of Toga’s prodding. He’d been hoping if he ignored her, Toga would grow bored or frustrated and forget about it. A vain hope, really. With everyone gathering and Toga still invested, all hope of this being forgotten has promptly been shot to death.
“It’s none of your business.”
Dabi tries to start walking back, but Toga still hangs stubbornly onto his arm like a koala, digging her heels into the ground and keeping him from going anywhere. “It’s Dabi’s birthday!!”
Dabi nearly curses out loud this time when he sees how the group, literally all of them, snap to attention. Shigaraki looks up from where his gaze had been trained on his phone so fast it would have cracked the neck on anyone else. Ruby-red eyes catch Dabi’s in a piercing stare before Dabi averts his gaze to the side.
“Dabi.” He winces, just a little, at Tomura's voice. The tone isn’t accusatory, because Shigaraki is an actually good guy that way, if you could believe it, but it is prodding, demanding an answer in a way the man rarely does.
Toga tugs at him again, and this time he lets her pull him over to the group. He grits his teeth and sighs in defeat. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Dabi, dear, that is nonsense,” Magne cuts in, brow furrowed above her sunglasses.
“We’ve been asking for ages when the hell your birthday is and when we do find out it’s almost over,” Spinner huffs, looking more bothered than Dabi expected him to be. “Freaking typical.”
Dabi gives him a scowl but Toga quickly takes over. She tugs hard at his arm that she’s still gripping. “We can’t miss it! Now that we know we gotta celebrate!”
Dabi grimaces, “No, we don’t.”
“Yes!!” Toga shrieks in his ear, making him wince.
“Toga, calm down, of course we’ll celebrate,” Magne hurriedly assures her. Despite her words, she looks concerned. “But with so little time left in the day, we might not be able to do much…”
“Not much planning can be done,” Compress adds in, adjusting his top hat. Even when going to the corner store, the man is always dressed like he’s going to a high-class party with a magician theme. It’s thrown a bit out of wack when he usually wears a mask. Today his face is bare to the night air, the put-out expression open for all to see.
Dabi’s mouth thins to a flat, expressionless line. “It’s not like it won’t come again next year.”
Just spending time with his… friends is enough for Dabi. If he feels sentimental enough, he can easily fix a meal he likes that day or help Kurogiri with it without anyone questioning it. And if he crawls into Tomura’s bed the nights before and day of, falling asleep to the sound and light from him playing on his computer or on the TV, no one would question it. Sometimes Tomura would even shut down his game early and go to sleep with him.
He didn’t need anything else. It was fine. So now hopefully they could abandon this conversation and by next week it would be forgotten about-
“No.”
Dabi’s eyes snap to Shigaraki. His arms are crossed, and he’s got that expression on his face, the one that signals whatever is coming out of his mouth next is expected to be followed and executed well. Dabi feels for the first time in his life a feeling of dread crawl up his spine in the face of Shigaraki’s leader face.
Shigaraki turns to Toga. “How long until the bakery closes?”
Toga jumps, quickly fishing out her phone to check the time. “A little over an hour!”
Shigaraki tch’s, brow furrowing. “Toga, you head over there. You know what to get.” Toga perks up and nods quickly, her usual toothy smile coming forward with an excited flush to her cheeks. “Spinner, Twice, Compress, go to the grocery store for provisions.” A collective nod, Twice going so far as to salute. “Magne, you’re coming with me.” Shigaraki pulls out his phone and starts typing something. “If we go now, we might make it.”
Compress tips his hat at the same time Dabi asks, “Make what?” but he is ignored.
“Alright,” Shigaraki mutters as a dark portal forms next to him. Guess he’d messaged Kurogiri for quick transport. “We’re starting the quest. Everybody move out.”
He swivels on his heel and walks inside, Magne following a step behind. Didn’t even look back, the asshole. Toga darts off down the street, waving her arms like a frantic bat, toothy grin on full display and giggles echoing after her.
The plastic bag is snatched from his hands and Dabi blinks first at his empty hand and then at Twice, the bag thief, who’s holding it against his chest as if to keep Dabi from taking it back.
“The birthday boy doesn’t carry luggage,” he says with utmost seriousness.
Dabi’s expression sours like he’d taken a bite out of a lemon. “Don’t ever call me that again.”
“Now, now, no squabbling,” Compress says from behind him, gently but firmly pushing on Dabi’s shoulders. “Spinner, be a dear and call Kurogiri and inform him of the situation. And ask for a shopping list please.”
“Got it.” Spinner’s phone is quickly fished out of his pocket, drifting a few steps away from the small group to chat with the bartender.
“Why the fuck do we need groceries anyway?” Dabi grouches, but lets himself be pushed forward. He still drags his feet a little, just to be a brat. “And it’s not a ‘situation’.”
“Can’t have a good birthday without good food!” Twice jovially adds from where he’s walking beside them.
“Precisely!” Compress continues. “Just imagine the look on poor Kurogiri's face once he finds out he wasn’t able to make a meal for you on your special day.”
“Don’t call it a special day, what are you, an embarrassing parent to a toddler?” Dabi snaps in disgust. “And does Kurogiri even have a face?”
“Well-”
“Don’t answer that.”
“Kurogiri sent us a list of things to buy,” Spinner says as he rejoins their little squadron, tapping at something on his phone before pocketing it.
“Marvelous!” Compress exclaims before urging Dabi to walk faster, which he reluctantly does. “Let us hurry then!”
They spill into the grocery store like a gaggle of elementary schoolers, Compress and Spinner taking a basket on wheels each. Twice and Spinner rush ahead down the aisles, the carts tipping and tumbling behind them. Dabi meanwhile is shooed by Compress to the fruit and vegetable section.
Compress makes a grand sweeping gesture, smiling while giving Dabi a very pointed look.
Dabi stares back at him with an impasse expression, hands in his pockets and slightly leant back. They hold this stand-off for what must be at least a full minute, neither moving a muscle. Dabi would be impressed by how Compress keeps holding that pose without twitching, if he didn't know the man was very dedicated to his tomfoolery.
Eventually, Dabi sighs like he was being put up to the task of preventing world destruction. Compress perks up like a sunbeam. Dabi wants to smack him.
He stalks away, Compress trailing behind him, his cart making little plastic squeaky noises. They pass the piles of fruit with only a glance, until they reach the other types of produce.
There, Dabi opens a cooler door, and picks up the biggest cantaloupe he can find. He turns to Compress and presents it like a video game item. Compress does a satisfied clap as if he was doing an 'item received' animation.
Fuck, Shigaraki's gaming speech was rubbing off on him.
"Happy?" Dabi grouches once he's dropped the cantaloupe in the basket. Carefully. You don't waste a good melon.
"Are you?" Compress shoots back. Dabi glowers at the humoured look on his face.
"You're enjoying this way too fucking much," Dabi mutters, walking past him.
"Why, whatever do you mean? I am simply overjoyed over finally being able to celebrate the birth of my dear friend."
"Don't choke."
They arrive at the section of berries and packages of cut fruit. The selection was small at this time of year, though not nonexistent.
Dabi picks up a packet of blueberries and goes to drop it in the basket. Except Compress coughs pointedly, gloved hand over his mouth.
Dabi glares at him. "What."
"You like the North European ones better, correct?"
"Yeah, and they're fucking expensive."
"We can afford it." Compress plucks the package out of Dabi's hands, putting it back. Another look pointed his way has Dabi suppressing another sigh. He picks up a pack of blackberries, the kind he liked best, and looks Compress directly in the eye as he drops that too in the cart. The man nods, pleased.
With that, they finally move on. They find Spinner in an aisle of baking goods, frowning at his phone and then at the shelves. "What the hell is vanilla extract?"
"Here", Dabi says as he plucks the small bottle from a shelf next to him.
Spinner looks at him in bafflement for a few seconds, before he shakes his head and mutters, "No wonder Kurogiri prefers it when you go grocery shopping."
Dabi does a grin that's more teeth than a smile, and Spinner bares his teeth at him in return. Twice skids around the corner, multiple items in his arms that he dumps into the small cart, almost filling it in the process. "Found them!"
Dabi stares at the pile. He tosses the bottle of vanilla extract onto the pile. "What are we getting so much stuff for?"
Spinner gives him an unimpressed look. "The fuck do you think?"
"Yeah, not like it’s someone's birthday or something," Twice continues. "And I didn't even get the chance to buy you a birthday present!"
Dabi frowns. "No presents. And this is unnecessary."
"Tough luck."
Compress chuckles as they continue on. Dabi is once more steered one way, towards the freezers. More specifically, the ice cream section.
"I'm not gonna be able to eat all of this to begin with," he says, eyeing both Spinner and Twice’s baskets.
"It's all about the selection! The feeling of a banquet!" Compress adds with more flourish than necessary, making some uninvolved shopper digging in the frozen foods section jump.
"Just pick something, we gotta get back," Spinner says.
Dabi sighs through his teeth, making an odd whistling sound as he does. Obediently, he scans the rows of cold treats before picking out a carton of chocolate and orange-flavoured ice cream and letting it drop into the overflowing cart.
“Was that all?” Compress asks.
Spinner checks his phone one last time before nodding. “That’s all.”
With that, they descend on the cash register, Spinner loading the conveyor belt while Twice packs it all into two plastic bags at the end. Compress stands ready to pay, chatting nonchalantly with the cashier giving them bewildered looks. Dabi is left standing at the end, watching, feeling like a child waiting for when they can leave the store and go home.
There’s a vibration in his pocket, signalling an incoming message. Puzzled, he pulls out his phone.
Giran
Heard through the grapevine it was your birthday. I’ll make a visit tomorrow, so don’t try to
abscond. Bubaigawara already knows and will keep an eye out for any escape attempts.
Happy birthday, sootboy.
Dabi sighs. Of course Jin had told Giran. Who else would have? But why the broker would bother to visit for such a dumb reason, he has no clue. Maybe he had already planned to?
“Dabi! Time’s ticking! We’ve got loads of time, let’s take it easy.”
While he’d been distracted by his phone, the others had finished. Compress is urging him forward again and they exit the grocery store in a less hurried way than they entered, Spinner and Twice each holding a bag. How the hell did they buy so much? Why did they buy so much?
Dabi lets out another sigh. He had a feeling it’s going to be a long night.
In the first and basement floor of the building they live in was a bar that doubled as a live house and was listed as a restaurant that had bands and musicians playing. In the apartments above is where their group lived. The second floor held the kitchen, living room and a bathroom, the third and fourth floor had the bedrooms and bigger bathrooms. Dabi and Shigaraki were the only ones who lived on the fourth floor, which Dabi greatly appreciated when he needed some solitude. Even though they slept in the same bed a lot of the time, they did need their space sometimes. The other rooms were a small storage and another bathroom with a shower, the biggest one located on the third floor.
As soon as they get back, Dabi is pushed down to sit on the couch cushions in a very ‘sit here and don’t move’ kind of way. Soon a glass is pushed into his hand by dark misty portal, filled with a colourful drink and a straw sticking out. He takes it after a second of staring. A sip reveals it to be something fruity. Twice whirls by and starts up a zombie movie he seems to have picked at random just to have something playing.
At this point he’s more or less resigned to his fate, so he settles back on the couch and turns his attention to the movie, sipping his drink. He keeps half an eye on the commotion in the kitchen, watching his… friends run around like headless chickens. With a very intense focus.
The head of the chaos is very obviously Kurogiri, who has become what can best be described as a mass of black holes. The dark mist that always surrounds him flares out in a way that betrays his agitation, despite his face being obscured.
Facing down Kurogiri’s disappointed stare was the first time Dabi felt bad about not telling the others about his birthday. The misty man found it important, for reasons he didn’t fully understand, but he had the suspicion it had something to do with his and Tomura’s past together.
It doesn’t take long after they arrive for Toga to come bouncing in. “I’m baack!”
There’s a mitch-matched chorus of welcome backs. Dabi nods at her from the couch. He’s eyeing the bag clutched in her arms like a baby. The logo from Dabi’s favourite bakery stamped is on the front, even though it’s a good distance away. Did she run all the way to make it before it closed?
Dabi doesn’t have a chance to analyze that train of thought before Compress putters past. “Toga, once you’ve put that in the fridge, be a dear and help Twice put up some decorations won’t you?”
“Fucking what-”
“Okay!” Toga chirps, skipping off to the fridge while expertly dodging the chaos. The contents of the bag are concealed from view in the short time it takes her to take it out and the fridge door to close. Dabi curses.
“Why the hell are you putting up decorations,” Dabi says, less of a question and more of a nonplussed statement.
“It’s the spirit that makes it count!” Twice cheers, carrying a box of- fucking streamers why.
Dabi stares sourly at the colourful monstrosities. “It’s not New Year’s.”
“It’s better! It’s the day our best bud Dabi was born! What a wretched day!”
Dabi starts resolutely ignoring the flare of warmth that outburst causes, then remembers his therapist asking him to work on taking in positive and affectionate gestures and words without immediately waving them off, and reluctantly stops. Now he’s left sitting there in silence, fuming from unwanted affection and taking little sips of his drink, watching Toga hop up on a chair Twice procured from somewhere as he passes her streamers to hang up. They’re a bit squashed in places and remain wrinkled despite the two’s efforts of straightening them out.
It goes like that for a while. The noise in the kitchen dies down a little as things have processed from prep to waiting for things to finish cooking. Spinner joins them in the living room at some point to help with decorating. He holds a party hat in his hands and stares at him. Dabi narrows his eyes, lets the straw slip out of his mouth and breathes out a small burst of blue fire.
Spinner narrows his eyes, gaze flicking between Dabi and the party hat for a while, before shrugging in defeat and putting it away. Dabi sags back against the couch, content in his small victory, but intent on keeping his guard up. If anyone gets that monstrosity on his head during the night, he’s going to burn it. Dabi doubts they’ll give up once they catch whiff of it.
The smell of food fills the room and makes his mouth water. Bread baking in the oven reached his nose and did Kurogiri seriously make fresh bread??
It’s about then that Shigaraki and Magne finally get back. Their not-for-real-but-still-seriously-appointed leader arrives in a whirl of white hair and black fabric, taking in the decorations, the state of the kitchen, and finally Dabi himself, sat on the sofa with a now empty glass that still clinks with ice cubes. He nods once, looking satisfied. By what criteria, Dabi isn’t sure.
“Don’t you look cozy, honey,” Magne peeps up, leaning around Shigaraki’s shoulder and looking at him over her sunglasses.
“Entirely unwillingly,” Dabi snarks back. Under Magne’s toned arm, there’s a package wrapped up in fancy paper and tied with a bow, with no obvious discerning hint as to what it was or where it came from. Magne noticed him eyeing the package, giving him a wink before disappearing down the hall and out of sight.
Dabi turns to Shigaraki. “Where did you go that took so long?” Despite the two using Kurogiri’s portals, they’d taken the longest to get back.
Shigaraki sheds his jacket, hanging it up properly on a hanger in the closet by the door. “You’ll find out later.”
With that slightly ominous ending note, Shigaraki heads into the kitchen, probably to talk to Kurogiri.
‘Fine then,’ Dabi thinks sourly, leaning back against the cushions. Twice and Toga are putting up the last few decorations while Compress and Spinner are setting the big dining table, required if they want to fit everyone. Compress is fussing over the plating and the napkins matching the table cloth, while Spinner just looks perplexed, hands full of plates and cutlery. He’s saved by Magne’s return, who quickly makes sense of Compress’ rambling and they get to a solution that has Spinner dumping the silverware to the table before returning to the kitchen. He comes back carrying the blue plates that look like they have scales etched into the edges of the porcelain.
Dabi likes those the best. He also knows you can’t machine wash them, so they’re a pain when you use eight every time. They don’t get them out that often because of it.
Except today, apparently.
Turning away, he can see Tomura in the kitchen through the opening between the cabinets and kitchen island, talking quietly with Kurogiri while he stirs a pot. Even through the loose shirt he was wearing, you can just make out the way his back muscles move with his arm. The long sleeves are pushed up and out of the way, showing his toned forearms and pale skin broken up by scars Dabi knew like the back of his hand. Knew the story behind most of them, at least the ones Tomura remembered the origin of.
He turns away, back to the TV without really seeing what was playing, ears feeling warm along with his core and he was glad not for the first time his ears were so scarred no redness showed up on them.
Finally, Kurogiri steps out of the kitchen like a host for an award show, announcing that food was ready and would everyone please help carry out the dishes and get seated?
“Except for Dabi,” the man adds, right as Dabi is getting up. The black mist around his head swirling and revealing nothing. “Please take your seat.”
Dabi grumbles, but obediently heads to his usual seat at the table, ignoring Compress pulling his chair out and pushing it in behind him as he sits. All with more flourish than what is necessary, obviously.
The table is filled quickly, and Dabi can see everything placed down are dishes he loves. Just looking at all of it he knows there’ll be leftovers. There’s chatter going on as the others get seated and the noise of dishes and plates full of food being placed down on the table, and for a moment it’s all a bit much.
Tomura slides into the seat next to him, eyes piercing and heavy with hidden meanings most people would dismiss as blank staring. Dabi stares back, pretending not to notice the hand that has found its way to his, sturdy fingers wrapped around his thinner ones, pinky extended out to the side. Dabi gives it a squeeze in response, not looking away.
Tomura keeps staring, one beat, then two, and then he nods once, small smile playing on cracked lips before he turns away like nothing happened. Their hands are still linked under the table, a point of calm to focus and hold on to.
Finally, everyone is seated, food is being taken, Dabi is being unnecessarily prioritized in getting first dibs on literally everything, and someone had put on music in the background at a low volume. His plate is full of more food than what he’s eaten all day combined. The room is haphazardly decorated from a lack of time, the table is full of food and every chair is occupied with people smiling at him without pulling him into the direct spotlight.
Dabi pointedly swallows, to really show the sudden tightness in his throat how insignificant it was.
Then Twice gasps. “Do we sing now?!”
Dabi frowns so fast his face is in danger of pulling a muscle. “You utter even one note and I’m throwing myself out the window.”
He ignores the laughter that erupts and chews on a piece of cut-up melon.
‘I’m sorry, Touya. Next year will be better, okay?’ Next year, next year, repeated ad nauseam, until that too fizzled out. Forgotten about, as usual.
Shouto, the golden child of their fucked up family, was born exactly a week before him. So their parents thought it was a great idea to combine their birthday celebrations into one day. Convenient in theory. In practice, this meant most care went into celebrating Shouto, since he was the youngest and the child liked the best, though no one ever said that part out loud. Touya had been used to being a second thought by then, but it still stung seeing the effort and attention put on a baby who wouldn’t even remember it when he got older compared to him.
And combining their birthdays meant his family gradually just… forgot, or maybe didn’t bother, to say congratulations a week later on his actual day of birth. Touya had pointed it out at first, annoyed, hurt, feeling like an afterthought. He stopped that too eventually. In later years, Natsuo started making that small effort, which he would never say out loud that he appreciated, but he did. A lot.
When he had his ‘accident’ with his fire(more like breakdown) mere days before his thirteenth birthday, that time was sealed in stone as ‘Touya’s accident that left him hospitalised for three years’ and ‘Shouto’s birthday’. It wasn’t hard to guess which one his family wanted to focus on.
Dabi’s used to it by now, drudging up useless things like birthdays is just pointless. The day before and the day off just puts him in a sour mood from all the bad memories associated with the date. Fussing about it seems so pointless and childish.
Because the thing is, Dabi was content with this. The complete non-focus on this time of year had been pretty nice actually. It became less and less of a time he dreaded getting through and more and more of an ordinary date, like any other. After a while, he even started celebrating in small ways. Eating his favourites. Doing something he enjoyed. Being a complete hermit for the day, and not in a depressing way.
Then he became comfortable actually doing something with the others. Going out with Compress to “collect culture points” as the man called it, really just them going to some art exhibition or museums. Kurogiri even joined them sometimes. Letting Toga drag him out shopping where they spend half the time talking about how terrible the current trends are. Sticking himself to Tomura’s side like a leech for the day, who never said anything, and probably liked it and didn’t know how to say it.
And he could celebrate on his terms, even if no one else knew he was celebrating something. It got easier every year.
Until now, when all the walls he’d put up and shakily set traditions he had have been successfully and merrily blasted to pieces by the jackasses he calls friends for some reason.
But it was… nice. More than nice. Because even if they can be a bit much they know his limits and it wasn’t overblown(if anyone had actually started singing ‘Happy Birthday’ he’d have thrown his plate at them). It was just… a celebration. And he liked it. He actually liked it.
Now, he sits on the small balcony, on the two-seat couch they’d managed to cram out there. It left very little legroom and it blocked the edge of the sliding door, but it was a very cozy place to sit, whether under a blanket or on the days when his skin felt far too hot. It came in handy when he just wanted fresh air but didn’t feel like leaving the building.
Inside, he could hear the others talking over a movie. Toga and Twice’s chattering could be heard, Compress, Kurogiri and Magne’s low voices just barely carrying over the noise in unintelligible murmurs. He was full from dinner, then dessert, that revealed Toga had gotten a box of chocolate and green tea cakes and Kurogiri had actually baked a fresh loaf of layered sweet bread.
The balcony door slides open, and Dabi looks up to see Shigaraki leaning out, backlit by the light from the living room, making his hair look like it was glowing.
“Tired?”
Dabi smiles crookedly at him. “Just needed some quiet.” That could mean the exact same thing sometimes, but not tonight. Tonight he felt warm and alive in the best way.
Tomura nods. The short conversation dies off, and they just look at each other. Spinner once claimed about half of their relationship was silent staring. Dabi couldn’t even deny it, they did do a whole lot of staring. They just didn’t need to use words all the time to communicate what they wanted.
And Dabi liked looking at Tomura. Remembering and searing into his brain tissue that Tomura was his, he was something Dabi could have, that wouldn’t leave him with no explanation. And he knows Tomura thinks the same when he’s looking at him. That thick-rooted belief scared him sometimes.
Finally, Dabi scoots over, and Tomura takes the silent invitation, dropping down on the cushions with a small sigh. He gives Dabi a glance-over. “You like your gift?”
Dabi smirks, nestling into his new sweater. It was dark, with stringy and blue-glowing mushrooms decorating the sleeves and edges. The end of the sleeves had an elastic band and flared out in a single layer ruffle over his hands. “It’s alright.”
Tomura rolls his eyes. Halfheartedly, Dabi pleasantly notes. “Considering you haven’t taken it off, I’ll assume it was better than a ‘Liked’ gift.”
Dabi snorts. He fingers the soft fabric, looking at the high-quality pattern and how Magne had excitedly relayed how the mushrooms supposedly glowed in the dark, something Toga insisted they try out right away. Cue being pushed into the bathroom with the lights turned off, all to say ‘yep, they definitely glow’ and end up with half of them wanting to see it in action.
“...I love it.”
Tomura smiles, too wide and too breathtaking. “Good.”
Dabi smiles halfway, then notices the dumbass is starting to shiver when Dabi is half-wrapped in a blanket. Sighing, he holds up the edge of the blanket pooling around him, and Tomura silently scoots closer, pressing into his side and taking the edge of the blanket from him and pulling it snug over his shoulder. Dabi didn’t really need blankets, but he liked being wrapped up in their soft fabric so used them anyway when he wouldn’t risk sweating his staples loose.
“Say when you’re cold, dumbass.”
Tomura sighs, sounding pleased like he hadn’t realised he was shivering at all. He might not have, actually, he was weird like that. And cause for concern, but that’s neither here nor there. “You noticed for me, so it’s fine.”
“Oh, that’s part of my job now? Your external temperature checker?”
“No one should leave you in charge of keeping check of the temperature, with the way you face-plant into piles of snow during winter.”
“It’s nice. And I only do it on days when I feel too warm.”
Tomura snorts. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Dabi laughs quietly. Tomura is a line of solid warmth pressed up against him, and Dabi didn’t think he’d like sitting like this as much as he does. He’s not to the point of calling it cuddling out loud yet, though, even if that’s exactly what it is. But it’s comfortable and soft in a weird way. They were a bit touchy-feely before they ‘officially’ got together, though hell knows when they actually became a thing, neither of them are very nitpicky about that.
Dabi had kind of expected things to feel weird afterwards. That’s the way things normally go, isn’t it? Once it means something it becomes awkward and loaded. But Dabi never felt discomfort around Tomura, and one late night on a rooftop, Tomura said he had never felt uncomfortable around Dabi either. It might have made him a bit too happy, but sue him, moments of peace and joy had been a scarcity most of his life. Nevermind times when his affection was reciprocated.
The way they officially got together is pretty hilarious in hindsight though. On a night like any other, after a moment of consideration and a small internal crisis Dabi had blurted out ‘are we dating?’ when they were out on a walk. Tomura looked at him for a long moment and answered ‘if you want to’. End result was they returned with the announcement they were now a couple, to disbelieving shouts of ‘what the hell happened’, ‘weren’t you two already dating?’, and a smug Compress who bet they would make it official during an ordinary moment. Apparently there had been a bet running, because their friends were bastards.
Ah, shit, he’d gotten lost in thought. But Tomura hadn’t been talking, so he hadn’t missed anything.
Actually, nevermind cuddling with someone, Dabi hadn’t expected to appreciate sitting with someone in silence as much as he does. But sometimes he just wants to exist in silence, and sometimes Tomura has bad days where his eyes go dark and he draws into himself, and for both of them talking becomes a bit of a chore. Being wrapped up in each other made it better. Physical evidence they were here, and wanted. Tomura’s touch was nothing like that of Dabi’s parents and Dabi was so unlike the sick bastard who had picked up Tomura off the streets. No bad memories to risk getting lost in, and no long-winded explanations necessary.
“What are you thinking about?” Tomura asks, voice low. His head thumps gently against Dabi’s and stays there.
“Nothing special.” Dabi shifts so his head can rest on Tomura’s firm shoulder. Finding out the guy was actually pretty fit under the comfortably loose clothes he always wore was a bit of a shock. It’s the training regime he has to do for improving his health, he’d said once when asked. It made for a nice human-shaped pillow. “Just stuff.”
Tomura huffs, black strands rustling and tickling him. “Always ‘stuff’ with you.”
Dabi grins, nosing against the other's scarred neck. “Would you rather my head be empty?”
“No thoughts, head empty,” Tomura says, and maybe it’s the utter flat tone he says it or the late hour or the sugar in his system, but Dabi loses his composure and snorts hard in laughter. Tomura is grinning like a smug cartoon villain and Dabi hates that it makes him love the bastard even more.
He’s muffling the stupid giggles with his hand and smacks Tomura’s chest with the back of the other. “Oh fuck you, you dweeb.”
Tomura lets out a short, sharp laugh. He takes the hand that smacked his chest in his own, pressing a soft kiss to the back like a bastard. Tomura’s arm is still wrapped around Dabi’s shoulder, the other holding his hand, lips brushing against the skin of his hand as he smirks like the dirty cheater he is. Dabi glares sullenly at him, ignoring the heat flaring in his face.
Dabi knocks his head against Tomura’s, not as gently as the man had done earlier, and not meant to be either, their foreheads knocking together with a low dunk. “Stop that.”
“What?” Tomura says, either playing dumb or not seeing anything odd with what he’s doing. It’s always a 50/50 chance, but Dabi doesn’t know if his heart can handle Tomura deciding there’s nothing odd about kissing his hand from now on.
“You know what,” he says. “Stop coddling me so much.”
Instead of saying more, he leans forward to press a quick kiss to the line of scar tissue under Tomura’s right eye. Wide red eyes blink at him, like they always do when Dabi decides to kiss his facial scars.
Sniggering, Dabi slumps down against the couch again, sideways and head laid over the back. His hand is still held hostage, now resting in Tomura’s lap, and his arm has slipped down from his shoulders to rest around his waist. Tomura stares at him for a moment, eyes looking like the bottles of glitter Toga has stashed in her room, and he’s a bit too breathtaking to look at but Dabi doesn’t look away and doesn’t stop smiling.
Eventually, Tomura settles down next to him, bouncing a bit from how he just slumps down over the furniture. Their fingers tangle together and Dabi closes his eyes and wonders, not for the first time, how he’s allowed to have this. Is he allowed to be this happy?
They sit in comfortable silence, Dabi picking at the warmth that’s started to settle around his chest like a nest after today. Meanwhile, Tomura has turned contemplative next to him.
“Hey, Dabi?”
Dabi hums in reply, not opening his eyes. He could almost fall asleep like this.
“You know you’re worth this?”
He stills, eyes snapping open without meaning to, meeting Tomura’s indecipherable gaze. “What?”
Tomura is quiet. A terrible sign, really. Dabi can never seem to prepare himself when the man gets like this.
“This,” he continues, but he doesn’t gesture at anything. Instead, he squeezes Dabi’s hand, like he had done during dinner earlier, and a few more times after. The noise from inside rises in volume, Toga screeching with laughter and the voices of Spinner and Twice, followed by Magne’s lower, soothing tone. He can’t make out any words, but he can tell they’re there.
Tomura’s eyes haven’t left him. It’s hard to meet his gaze. “You can have it.”
Are his hands shaking? Maybe he should pull his hand free, in case they are, or else Tomura will notice. But is it so bad if he does notice? Some part of him screams yes, the part of him that didn’t allow vulnerability. It’s what’s kept him going until now.
Tomura brushes his fingers against Dabi’s cheek before cupping it with his palm, eyes piercing and unyielding and Dabi can’t look away. “You deserve all of this.”
He bites down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. He can’t do this. He can’t, he can’t, he’s not-
“Stop it,” Tomura’s voice is stern enough to snap him out of his spiralling thoughts. His hand slid to cup the back of his head and neck. “I don’t care what anyone has told you before, and I swear most days I wish I could go and destroy that fucking house you outlasted, but you deserve this, okay? You deserve to have your birthday celebrated, much less fucking acknowledged . You deserve to be happy, to smile and be comfortable and happy not just on your birthday, but every day of your life.” Tomura’s eyes are firm and sharp like cut jewels, but they don’t hurt to look at. “You deserve this, and so much more. And we’re going to give it to you. I am going to give it to you. Because you deserve everything. Not just the big moments, but the small, stupid, worthless ones. Because it’s not small or stupid or worthless if it’s you.”
It takes a moment. Dabi sits there, processing, maybe a bit stunned. His vision is filled with the black of Tomura’s shirt and a little white from his hair as he lays his head against his shoulder. Tomura wraps him up in a hug and soothes the sudden tremble in his body.
“You really don’t know how loved you are,” Tomura muses into his hair, voice low, fingers brushing across his cheekbones, running them through dyed strands of hair like he was worried he’d snag on a tangle. Dabi doesn’t respond, just wraps himself a little tighter around him, hands gripping onto his shirt. Despite sitting outside in the night air, the smell of the bread Kurogiri had baked still stubbornly clings to his clothes and the white strands of hair forming a curtain around Dabi’s head faintly smells of shampoo from this morning, all blended together with Tomura’s natural scent.
Tomura kisses his forehead. “I’m giving you a quest until next year today to come up with something you want to do. And I don’t mean meal requests or gift ideas, but an actual activity. If we can go to the ocean for a stay-over beach day for Toga’s birthday or illegally enter France because Magne had always wanted to go to Paris for her birthday, we can do whatever the hell you want on yours. If you hold back I’m going to be mad.”
Dabi laughs, though his voice sounds shaky as it leaves his throat. He might actually combust at this rate, light up like the world's most pathetic carpet bomb. “Got it, boss.”
Tomura hums, letting the quiet settle around them like a blanket fort. Dabi’s skin is tingling and too warm and part of him says it’s time to stop being clingy while every other part of him violently rejects the idea of moving.
So he burrows deeper, like he was a parasite trying to break skin and delve into flesh. Tomura only tightened his hold, not to where it’s painful but so Dabi can tell with no uncertainty that Tomura wants him here, close and pressed together like they’re trying to fuse into one being and just the fact he was allowed to-
It choked him up. But it also made him so happy he could burn down Japan and still have gas left over in the tank.
“I love you,” Tomura says in a low voice, whispered in his ear like it’s a world-shattering secret not meant for anyone else to hear, not even the night air.
The rush hearing those words bring him is familiar but no less exhilarating. He sighs, warm and giddy and a dumb, sappy smile threatening to slip onto his face that he hides in Tomura’s neck. “I love you too.” The words still feel so heavy to say, so charged with things experience tells him he isn’t supposed to have. But he has them, doesn’t he? Why can’t he be happy to have them? Why can’t he get to keep them?
Tomura hums, and with how close they are, Dabi can feel the pleased shiver running through his body. Delight curls in his chest like smoke, thick enough to choke on. Hi’s words caused that, because they came from him and he means them with every part of his being, and Tomura knows that.
Eventually, they pull apart, even if reluctantly. Tomura moves to lean back, but Dabi grips his shirt and surges forward to press their lips together in a kiss. Tomura stills in surprise for barely a second before he’s kissing back, cupping his cheek and running his thumb over the line separating his scarred and healthy skin.
A pleased sigh escapes him as he loses himself in the kiss, in Tomura, his blood bubbling in his veins and Tomura’s hands leaving cracks in his composure wherever they touch, like he’s using his quirk but in a reverse, absolutely delightful way. He brushes aside Tomura’s long, white hair to touch his neck, ragged and scarred from years of vicious and mindless scratching. The source of the scarring may be wildly different, they still sort of matched in that regard. Now the skin is warm under his touch. Tomura might not be the type who blushes down to his neck, but his skin can still heat up during moments like this. That Dabi is the one who caused that reaction never fails to make his gut twist in delight.
Tomura licks lazily into his mouth and Dabi lets out a soft moan, letting himself lean back a little as Tomura pushes closer. There was no urgency or desire to take it further, just leisurely enjoying the moment and the pleasure it brought.
After what might be minutes or hours of their lips moving against each other and chaste touches exploring places they’d wandered over many, many times, they finally separate. They don’t go far, barely a breath's space left between them as their foreheads press, panting lightly.
The moment is broken as an especially cold gust of wind blows past, making them shiver a little, Tomura more than Dabi. The blanket that was once wrapped around them has long since slipped down from their shoulders, and the late time only made the January night colder.
Tomura presses a last soft kiss to Dabi’s cheek before standing up. “We should go back inside.”
Dabi nods, starting to get up when a hand enter his field of vision. Looking up shows Tomura holding his hand out as if to help him stand up.
Dabi can’t help but smirk and tease him a little as he takes the hand. “What a gentleman.”
Tomura scowls, but says nothing as he helps Dabi up. It’s not like it was a rare thing for him to do, on days when Dabi’s balance was shot to space beyond or his body ached Tomura often silently offered assistance or support. He didn’t tend to do it during other times though, and Dabi found it funny his birthday was enough to warrant so much pampering from him.
As they’re about to head in, Dabi happens to look up. The sky is dark, light pollution making it near impossible to spot any stars.
“Hey, Tomura?”
Tomura looks back, white hair spilling over his shoulders and eyes glinting like garnets in the muted light. Their still connected hands hang together between them. “Yeah?”
Dabi looks away from the sky and smiles. He doesn’t know what Tomura sees when his eyes widen and they sparkle like he’s looking at something beautiful, but it makes him feel alight, from his scarred skin down to his bone marrow.
“Next year, I want to go see the stars.”
Tomura blinks once, twice, three times before he seems to register what Dabi said. Then he smiles, and it’s soft and loving and not what you think of when you look at Shigaraki Tomura but is what the people who love and is loved by him knows is a central part of his being.
“Then we’ll go to the best place possible to see them.”
Dabi’s smile grows into a grin. “Looking forward to it.”
And with some surprise, he finds himself wholeheartedly believing it.
Dabi follows Tomura back inside, to the warmth and noise and love he doesn’t quite know what to do with.
But he’s getting there.
It’s a nice feeling.