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At the quiet hours of the night, Dabi's head hurts so much that it doesn't even feels like it's dark already – like there's a bright light making the pain worst. But there isn't; it's just him and the dark. Just him and the breu of the night in the living room of the small apartment, his pain making everything more melancholic.
Like a promise that it would (it should) get worst, the familiar ring of his phone played from the kitchen, where it was charging since the afternoon. Dabi sighed, planing to ignore the call, but to wake up the blonde from his room and having to explain who was calling at this hour was way more tiring.
Getting up from his terrible couch, Dabi made his way into the kitchen. It wasn't a big apartment. Actually, it was small and dirty, but that's what he could afford at the moment. And probably ever. Sitting in his also terrible chair, and unpluging his phone from the charger, he picks up, a frown on his face from the pain and insomnia.
"Yo." Said, eloquently, one hand making his way into Dabi's face and going thru his hair. He would usually curse any soul calling at this time, but damn, he was tired.
"Dabi."
The low voice entered his ears, and almost immediatly, Dabi was fully awake. It's not that the pain was gone; but it definely was irrelevant now. Sitting straight, he took the phone off his ear just to check the screen and see if the unsaved number was the one he had memorized a long time ago. It was.
Dabi wasn't a coward. But he was feeling like one right now.
Putting the phone back in his ear, Dabi tried his best to sound awake and say something useful. "Hey."
"Hey." The answer was immediat, and he could hear no nervosism in the voice on the phone. Dabi knew it meant nothing tho; he was just good at hiding. Dabi hoped he was hiding and not just unbothered.
Silence was made when Dabi didn't answer. He didn't know what to do or what to say. His heart was beating so fast and he started to light little flames in his fingers. Was he dreaming? Was he high? He didn't trip with him for so long tho.
"So–" Dabi started, not interest in playing those little ego games of who was going to talk first.
"How are you doing?" Shiggy said, and Dabi smiled because how could he not?
What could he say? How was he doing? He was working in the same bad job, living in the same bad apartment and using the same bad drugs. There was a body in his bed, and whiskey in his floor. He loved... no, he liked somebody else, and he knew he did. Dabi wasn't capable of loving anyone; at least not anyone who wasn't in the phone with him at three AM, after four months of no contact at all. What could he say? What Shigaraki didn't know already with his friends in common? What he didnt wanna know? What would hurt him? Dabi didn't even knew if he should want to hurt him or not. He didn't knew shit. How was he doing? What was relevant?
Why did he care? Did he, at all?
"My head hurts." He said, and he wasn't even mad at himself for choosing to say that. I felt too natural to be mad.
"Oh." Was his answer, and he smiled because he could picture the little circle those lips must be forming right now. Jesus. "Did you overheat? Or is your..."
"Insomnia."
"Right. Did you stop the meds?" He asks, as if he had the right to know. He didn't.
He had.
"Yeah." Dabi answered. "It wasn't... They aren't really working."
"They should." He could hear the frown in his light eyebrowns. He could see it. "Did you take them right? In the time and shit? They are good meds. I would know."
He would. He was the one who got them for Dabi.
"I've stopped them."
"Why?" Why did he?
"Because i'm drinking." Said Dabi, and he could't hear the disappointment sigh. Maybe he just missed it. The idea of Shigaraki not caring enough to be disappointed was unberable. And the ideia of him caring too much too show was just too hard to deal with, so Dabi ignored the possibility. He just missed. "Don't wanna waste them."
"You're wasting yourself."
Now Dabi sighed. It was such a Shigaraki thing to say. The little prick, thinking he knows everything and have the answers to everything. Such a prepotent fuck.
But Dabi didn't wanna fight. He really didn't. "I'm sorry."
The silence was there again. It was so familiar and yet so weird. Where was the screams? The fights? The silence meaned nothing to him, to them. They were the way they were because they go to war for it. Peace means nothing to their hearts. Dabi felt so empty; he liked the idea of it being different but the unfamiliality was so scary. But was it really different if there is nothing between them, anyway?
"It's ok, Dabi."
His head was hurting again.
"I'm not mad." Shigaraki said, as if trying to reforce his point.
"Thank ya." Dabi said, because he didn't know what else to say. Because he could't say what he wanted to. "Shig?"
"Yeah?"
"Why are you calling me so late?" He asked, hoping for the worst. If he got embarassed he could hang up and never pick up Dabi calls again, very much unlike Dabi who picked them all. It was always up to Tomura, really. Every time it was up to him.
"Because I miss you." He answers, as if he could just say that.
"Yeah? You do?" Dabi answers back, and it's so dangerous. Not even because he's whispering in his kitchen, with his current boyfriend sleeping in the next room. In the bed he was less than a hour ago. Not because of that, but because it's so easy to fall into the same rotine. The stolen answers, the secrets shared softly like they didn't act like they hated eachother in front of other people. The midnight kisses when nicotine and alcohol mixed together. Making love and having sex; because they did both, and never at the same time. It was so dangerous because it was so good and adictive. It's been almost four years since their first night together and the feeling just grew more intense. The hatred, the screams, the cries, the punches and the cheating. So much in four years. They ache for eachother. It's been months, the longest time without Tomura where Dabi didn't talked to him since they met in that dirty bar. It was their bar, their history. Tomura was a part of him that filled him more than his whole childhood could. He was family; the only people Dabi cared about was the friends they made together. Was Tomura.
"I do. So much." Tomura answered, and Dabi's heart was beating so fast. He reminded himself that he should talk low; his boyfriend was in the next room. Sleeping. In a bed with Tomura scent. Jesus, why was Dabi so fucking dumb?
"I miss you too."
"I– Dabi." He called, and picturing the blush that must be in his neck and pale cheeks, Dabi closed his eyes, smiling and answering with a low voice.
"Yeah, baby?"
"I love you, Dabi."
Dabi felt like he was dying.
When the silence made room again, he could picture Shigaraki panicking from it. He didn't say it a lot. Neither one of them; but his boss said it even less. He needed to answer him, but it was so overwhelming. Dabi felt weak; so, so weak. Should he even feel anything at all? Should he say anything? He loved him. So much. He wish he could just say it but he couldn't. How could he possibly say it and not run to Tomura? Kiss him and fuck him and repeat it all damn night, praying his "I love you"'s and loving him till they break again. He couldn't. He can't. So he doesn't say it.
"It's so good hearing my name in your voice, Tomura." He says instead, and he meant it. It really was.
If Tomura noticed the avoided words - and he did it - he didn't commented.
"With the raspy and all?" His boss said it, low, and Dabi convinced himself he was smiling.
"Especially with the raspy, baby." Dabi breathed out, looking at his bedroom door and back to his fridge in front of him, his little flames in his fingers dancing. "It sound so fucking sweet."
Tomura scoffed on the phone and Dabi smirked, knowing the sound too well. "I'm not sweet."
"You are. Like an angel and shit."
He said, and he didn't think about it before saying, like he should with Tomura. Angel was a very specific petname – one he shouldn't be using. Hell, he shouldn't be using any petname. He shouldn't be even talking to him.
But Dabi was feeling so alive right now.
"Dabi..."
"Yeah?"
"Can I come over?" He asked, and Dabi felt his heart stop. It was real, he reminded himself, even though he never forgot. He knew what Shigaraki was really asking. And fuck, he felt like a cheating douche bag. And he was, but his heart and his brains had both different people who Dabi owned faithfulness. He felt like he did in the first time Tomura questioned him about his night, about his scent, about what he did. Guilty in a way he technically shouldn't; they weren't together. Dabi had a boyfriend. And it wasn't Tomura.
So why did it hurt so much to confirm to him what he knew Tomura already knew? He knew. He knew that this call was wrong.
"No, baby." Answered Dabi, and he wished he was holding Tomura in his arms. "I'm so, so sorry."
He wishes Shigadaki was crying deep inside. He wishes it hurts; because more than anything Dabi wishes he can fix the pain, kiss him and make it better. He wish he could be good for him. But he was trying to be good for somebody else. And clearly failing, by the way.
"Shig?" He said when the silence was unberable.
"Hey." Was the low answer. Oh. "I'm... ok. Sorry for calling. Have a good night."
"No! I mean– Don't hang up." He said it way too loud and the little flames slightly burning the tip of his fingers faded for a minute. Looking into the dark for a silhouette in his bedroom door, he lowered his voice again, passing his fingers through his hair. "I... Don't hang up."
"I don't want to start a fight." Tomura said, and Dabi couldn't read his voice.
"You won't."
"But–"
"Baby."
"Dabi." He said, in the "don't call me that" tone. It was lovely.
"I just... Don't hang up. Please."
"I need to sleep. I work tomorrow." Shigaraki said and Dabi was already panicking because what if he never picked up the phone again?
"But..."
"Can I... Can I call again? Tomorrow? When you... If you're not busy. Like now." Dabi knew what he meant. Asking if he could talk when his boyfriend aren't home. The epitome of shamelessly. It's terrible.
And yet.
"Yes." He answered fast. "Please, do."