Chapter Text
You stand behind the counter of your work place, taking in the cluttered space that spans before you.
With the day's customers and your co-workers gone, the quaint hardware store where you just barely make enough to scrape by is finally silent and empty. Your hand reaches for your phone in your apron to check the time. Almost ten o' clock.
From outside, there's a clap of lightning and a rumble of thunder that nearly shakes the building. Droplets of rain steadily begin to fall, littering the window behind you and creating a patter on the glass that fills the vacant space with its soft sound. For a moment, you relish in the privacy that you had right now, knowing that what awaited you at home wouldn’t deliver the same stillness.
You'd been living—existing—with Dabi for almost a year now, eight whole months to be exact.
Unfortunately, as it was, none of your friends lived close enough, and he was the only eligible candidate within your area that didn't seem to be a scammer or someone asking for money. His background check was clean and he had a good rental history, really what more could you have asked for in a roommate? So maybe he wasn't what you envisioned, but beggars can't be choosers and with the time crunch you’d been under at the time, it felt like the most logical decision.
It worked for a while; he had his life, and you had yours.
You would argue that initially, things were good. He may have left his dishes in the sink or his laundry in the dryer, but those were surface level typical annoyances that are routine of any household. You could deal with those things.
But then leftovers specifically marked for yourself would go missing, simple chores you'd left for him to handle were ignored, random people were showing up unannounced at random hours. He preferred to stay up all night doing god knows what while you tried to sleep, and then bitched at you for “making noise” at a completely reasonable time of day. Oh, and there’s only one bathroom, so good luck if you ever have to use it when his drunk fucking friends come over.
Little things that over time, began to feel less and less accidental. Eventually, it had gotten so bad that if he were home, you’d find every excuse not to be there at all. The solution should've been simple, but you gave up trying to have a rational conversation about your issues a long time ago. He never retained anything you said. On top of that, you really didn't share much in common with him so sometimes just being around each other was...weird. It seems like the only window of peace you ever got these days was at work, which is something you never would've believed to be true before being roommates with Dabi. Moving out was tempting, but living alone just wasn’t practical with your income, so you had no other choice but to put up with his shit and try to stay out of each other's way.
Suddenly another crack of lightning rips through the dense sky outside, drawing your eye and illuminating the parking lot before darkness falls once again. You take that as a sign you’ve been wrapped up in the terrible musings of your reality long enough.
Dejectedly, you untie your apron from around your waist, tucking it under the counter. You gather your things, shoving them under your arm just as another roll of thunder erupts outside. Speeding your motions along, you walk hurriedly to the front of the store, preparing to lock the doors and make your dreaded commute home in the torrential downpour.
You reach your complex some twenty minutes later, the rain still as relentless as it was when you’d left work.
After parking your car and turning off the engine, you waste no time sprinting to your building and trekking up the few flights of stairs that ascend into a moderately sized concrete landing. Instantly the smell of marijuana permeates the air and you have a sneaking suspicion that it’s coming from your unit.
As you approach your door, the pungent earthy aroma only grows stronger, and now you know that it’s definitely coming from your apartment. An irritating throb pulses behind your eye. All you asked was that he not do it inside the building, but of course—who gives a shit what you want? As if you weren't living here too and paying half the rent.
In your hurried state, you drop your keys trying not to drop something else, cursing audibly before bending down to pick them up. The strap of your bag slides down your shoulder but you snatch your lost keys from the ground before it can fall completely, standing up straight with a heavy sigh. But before you can jam the key into the cylinder lock, something makes you pause. Laughter- a woman's voice- and it's coming from inside the apartment.
At that, you roll your eyes and mock the exaggerated lilt in her tone. Despite his unassuming appearance, you’d come to discover that Dabi held a certain charm with the ladies. One that you failed to understand on numerous occasions. Even those in your circle seemed to fall victim to his toxic wiles, lingering just a little longer than necessary in his sight whenever they came to visit. It wasn't his fault, presumably, but sometimes you think he entertained their silly little questions and overstated greetings just to get a reaction out of you. Now, you relish in knowing that you’re undoubtedly going to ruin the mood of whatever little rendezvous is happening on the other side. Serves him right for flirting with your friends. But there’s something else you can hear now that makes you hesitate with intention.
A sort of whining sound almost. Crying? In confusion, you stand there, the knit in your brows revealing your evident struggle to decipher what the hell is actually going on until you hear it: “Dabi...oh, my god..." and you recoil in utter disbelief when it finally hits you, lips parting in the form of a gasp before all you're seeing is red.
You can't imagine where you found the cordiality in that moment to knock, but you do, and hard. Suddenly your heart feels like a thousand pound weight pumping in your chest. There's a shuffling from within, because you'd obviously startled them just as much as they'd startled you, but you enter seconds later, too floored to care what you may have been walking into.
The girl is void of your sight, but then she emerges from around the kitchen corner seconds later, half-dressed and clutching her belongings. She waves in the direction of your roommate, rushing past you and out of the front door with a hurried apology, but you don’t even bother look her way.
Now it’s only you, the haze of smoke filling the room, and the man standing just beyond it, shirtless and scowling back at you as if you're the one in the wrong. At that, you ditch any instance of composure, pacing forward after you slam the door shut.
"This," you start, throwing your bag and keys down on a vacant space of the couch, "this is not happening."
"Nothin' even happened, dipshit." Dabi brushes you off, just as unaccountable as ever, but you're not hearing it.
"This is a shared space and I don't want to be reminded of every girl you fuck when I'm trying to relax.”
“Her?” he scoffs immediately, “Nah, I told her she could give me head.”
His inked fingers snatch his shirt from the floor, straightening up while he slips the garment casually over his head.
"Really? On the fucking couch?” you incite, stepping in front of him. He's taller than you so at this proximity you have to lift your head to make eye contact. Dabi stares down at you, taking in your stance and the way you're glaring up at him in your damp clothes. If you'd been any more enraged, he thinks you may have just exploded, and such a juvenile thought inspires the start of a smirk on his lips.
"This is funny to you?” the words fly from your lips indignantly, “I can’t ev-“
“You should probably change. I heard if girls sit around in wet underwear too long-“
"Shut up,” you interject before he can finish another disingenuous remark, a clear indication that he wasn't taking any of this seriously. "Would it fucking kill you to show me some respect for once?"
"Would it kill you to pull the stick out of your ass?" he sneers back but you're already shouldering around him and making your way to the bathroom, needing to escape this interaction.