Chapter Text
"And here I thought you couldn't get any more edgy," Tomura teases, his arms crossed over his chest as he leans against Dabi's overly expensive car, watching as he saunters down the steps of his apartment.
Spoiled rich asshole. He really can't complain too much. Not when he's equally just as spoiled because of Dabi's rich boy status. He may be an asshole who occasionally likes to show off but he also likes to throw gifts at Tomura whenever he gets the chance and will never turn down a request from.
Said rich asshole lets out a laugh as he plucks the cigarette from between his lips to blow out the smoke. He's in one of his usual band tees and dark, ripped jeans but the jacket is new. Authentic leather with silver buttons and zippers that are seemingly useless and only there for style. Tomura hates how well it compliments him. The silver buttons match the many silver piercings in his face as well as the black and silver rings he insists on wearing almost daily. Even when he they hang out and he’s has to take them off anyways.
"It's not edgy, it's rugged," he corrects, adjusting the collar of his black leather jacket. Tomura hates the fact that it looks as stylish as it does. Doesn't mean he has to openly admit that though.
"Not sure it can be rugged when you're built like that," he huffs, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes. He’s not even gonna mention how he’s pretty sure rugged and edgy are almost the same damn thing.
Dabi raises his eyebrows in playful offense, choking out a small laugh.
"You wound me, Tomura," he says, his hand resting over his chest in playful agony before he takes another drag off his cigarette, stepping closer and resting a hand on the car behind him, half trapping him between the cold metal and Dabi's warm body. He doesn't mind the close proximity though.
"Mhm," Tomura lazily agrees, snatching the cigarette from Dabi's fingers before he can put it back between his lips. It earns him a small, somewhat confused and surprised look before Tomura puts it between his own lips and takes a drag.
It's funny. Tomura used to think Dabi's smoking habit was kinda disgusting. The smell lingered everywhere and the ashes got everywhere and not to mention just how fucking expensive they are. Guess that isn't a problem for rich boy over here. But Tomura didn't care for it. And yet, he can't help but indulge in the habit himself whenever they're together.
Not his fault Dabi makes it look so good.
Dabi lets out a sound that resembles a scoff but even he can hear how fond it sounds. It's hard not to be just a little soft for the bratty asshole in front of him. He may be a pain in the ass most of the time but he's also the closest thing to a friend Dabi has.
Technically way more but neither of them are gonna say that. They're both too damaged for a proper relationship so whatever the hell they have going on is good enough. This thing doesn't exactly have a name though so Friend is just gonna have to do.
"Not sure you can really judge. I'm sure I'm way warmer than you're gonna be tonight," Dabi argues, leaning in even closer to lean his elbow against the dark car. Tomura isn't deterred in the slightest. He doesn't cower or shrink beneath his targeted gaze. He doesn't even try to look away. It's would've been impressive if Dabi didn't already know that's just how Tomura is. Anyone else likely would have grown flustered from the targeted look but this is Tomura they're talking about after all.
He may look cute and soft with his pastel hair and oversized hoods and pretty pink lips but he's definitely not. Not to most people at least. Even Dabi doesn't see that side very much. Not unless it's right after he's fucked his brains out and he can't be bothered to keep the tough mask up.
"Not everyone can afford fancy, warm jackets, Dabi," Tomura huffs. He's giving him that sort of pointed look but he hardly sounds upset. He rarely ever does around Dabi anymore.
Dabi won't admit this out loud but he enjoys those moments whenever he can. Those softened eyes and the lack of tension in his shoulders and between his eyebrows. The way his voice loses the almost growl like texture to it and is just left with that natural, soft rasp. The way he doesn't pull away from his gentle touches and retracts those claws of his so he can be carefully coaxed back down to Earth.
Those moments never really last long. Just a couple short minutes after their little meetups then when he finally comes back to himself, he goes right back to how he normally is. Dabi doesn't hate it. Of course he doesn't. If he did he likely wouldn't put up with his bad attitude and bratty comments. But he's really not that bad when you get used to him.
"What's with that look?" Tomura asks, blowing out another cloud of smoke just past Dabi's face before offering the cigarette back to him.
"Hm?" Dabi asks, taking the cigarette back and trying not to get distracted by the feeling of their fingers brushing together.
"You're looking at me weird," he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he locks his eyes on Dabi's. I don't like it he wants to add but deep down he knows that isn't true so he keeps quiet.
Dabi doesn't really know what it is he's talking about but what he does know is that Tomura is looking at him very directly and for once, it feels weird. He distracts himself from the almost embarrassed feeling he gets by taking a long drag off his cigarette, feeling the burn of the smoke in his lungs and holding it for a few moments before letting it out.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Dabi finally manages to speak, huffing out a small laugh as he drops his cigarette onto the concrete and crushes it beneath the toe of his boot.
"Mhm," Tomura hums doubtfully but he doesn't fight Dabi when his hand suddenly comes up to his jawline and tilts his head further up, allowing him to lean in and press their lips together.
They rarely ever go out together so it's not common for them to be kissing it public. They aren't exactly hiding whatever the hell they have going on between them but they don't really discuss it either. No one really knows and they usually keep their interactions within the confines of Dabi's apartment. Not out in the parking lot where literally anyone could walk out and see them. Even so, neither of them try to rush the kiss. Not like anyone else is out right now. It's almost 1 am and it's hardly a party kind of night. They can indulge for a minute or two.
Tomura's lips are cold against his own, likely from having to wait outside for Dabi for several minutes. It almost makes him feel guilty but it's hard when Tomura seems to press in a bit closer to soak up his warmth. It's his main excuse to cuddle up to Dabi. He'll never ask for that kind of affection just because. It's always just because 'he's cold.' Dabi won't bring it up anytime soon though. They both know, no need to discuss it.
A small, purr-like sound rumbles low in Tomura's throat as Dabi presses in closer, reaching a hand up to tuck a strand of hair back out of Tomura's face and behind his ear. He only intends to brush his hair away but instead, he lets his hand cradle the side of his face, his thumb gently caressing his cheek and tracing over the corner of his mouth.
Tomura uncrosses his arms so he can reach a hand up to grab at the front of Dabi's leather jacket, gripping the cool material tight and pulling him in closer. It startles Dabi but not enough to disturb their kiss. There's no way he's gonna end it when he can feel Tomura's tongue barely brushing over his bottom lip, specifically over the cold metal ring in the middle of his lip.
Dabi allows his lips to part enough for Tomura's eager tongue to explore, making him purr and grip him tighter. Pushy and direct as always.
Tomura's chest is almost pressed completely to his and he keeps tugging at the dark jacket as if he needs Dabi even closer. It would honestly be so easy to tease him about it since he rarely shows any desperation. Dabi always has to bully him about it but right now, he feels that same desperation burning inside him so he doesn't dare break the kiss just to be an asshole. He can save that for later.
Dabi drops his hand from his face to instead rest on his hip, gripping it right where the last bruises he left have begun to fade. He can feel the way Tomura's nails dig into the leather collar, an almost whimper crawling up his throat at the ache. It's so small and faint but it's still pathetic and make Dabi only want to be rougher.
His hand trails down his thigh, hooking underneath it just above his knee before lifting his leg up and wrapping it around his hip.
"Dabi-" Tomura gasps, a hand pressing against his chest and the other grabbing at the back of his jacket to support himself when Dabi manhandles him. "Someone’s gonna see," he huffs, tipping his head back to keep Dabi from kissing him again.
It's a cute attempt but it just makes it easier for Dabi to lean in to that pretty scarred up neck of his and press warm, messy kisses there.
“Good,” he softly grumbles back. It pulls another small sound from the lanky boy pressed against him. It's practically a whine and it makes Dabi drag his tongue against his neck, unable to hold back a cocky laugh at the sound.
Tomura's cold hand slips under his shirt, clawing at his shoulder blade and biting on his lip to keep from making any noise. He's extra sensitive in his neck and always has the best reactions when Dabi pays extra attention there. So of course he has to take advantage and suck bruises onto the side of his neck, pleased by just how easily the color blossoms on his fair skin.
He can feel some of the fresher scratches from that weird habit of his. You’d think that might make him lighten up but nah. Instead he lets his cold tongue piercing drag right over an open wound, relishing in the way Tomura gasps out a curse, his nails really sinking into his back then. It’s nice for a moment till Tomura really starts to fight him, likely embarrassed that Dabi got him to make such a noise in public no less.
"Dabi, I swear to god-" he curses, slapping his hand against his chest. He's so close to straight up slapping him across the face and Dabi must notice. As masochistic as Dabi is, he knows they won't get out of this damn parking lot if he doesn't stop now.
"Fine, fine, I'm stopping," he finally concedes, almost panting like a damn dog as he pulls back, his hand mindlessly groping at the side of his thigh.
Dabi allows his eyes to meet Tomura’s, pleased to see he’s panting just as much. For a moment they’re just slowly catching their breaths, each one coming out as a small cloud in the chilly night air.
The moment is quickly disturbed however by a car turning around the corner and unintentionally blinding them. They’re not even pulling into the parking lot but the light is enough to spook Tomura and make him slouch back against the car as if that’s enough to hide their rather compromising position. It makes Dabi laugh.
“Shut up! I don’t wanna hear it,” Tomura pouts, glaring at him but unable to hide the way his lips try to quirk up into a smile. Dabi’s laugh was always contagious.
“Hear what? I’m not saying anything,” Dabi quickly plays dumb, releasing his grip on Tomura and pulling back, his hand still resting against the top of the car but now he’s not crowding Tomura nearly as much.
“By the way, I take back what I said about the hoodie. It looks like it was for the best,” he vaguely teases, grabbing his hood and adjusting it to help hide the bruises on the side of his neck. Dabi really isn’t too fond of Tomura hiding them but he never verbalizes that. Being possessive of your fuck buddy isn’t exactly normal or recommended.
Even though the comment is vague, he can see the immediate understanding in Tomura’s eyes and he groans, pushing himself up and away from the car to walk around to the other side.
“You fucking suck,” he groans, tugging on the door handle of the passenger side door, looking to Dabi again with yet another glare when he realizes the door is locked.
Dabi puts his hands up defensively before unlocking the car and allowing them both in.
“I don’t know what you’re surprised, I always do it,” he hums, hopping in and staring the car.
“Whatever,” he huffs, unable to defend himself. He’s right. He does it literally everytime. It’s enough for Tomura to question it but only internally.
“Where are we going anyways?” He decides to ask now that they’re in the car.
“You’ll see,” he shrugs. “Just buckle up and enjoy the ride.”
Isn’t that just their usual dynamic? Tomura almost jokes but simply huffs and does as he’s told. It’s what he’s best at after all. At least for Dabi.