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The Warmth of his Touch

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Fuck, he was tense. Things had been getting stressful with his hero work for a bit too long, and he couldn’t help but try to keep his shit together. The holidays were always the worst, it felt like he was always working and never stopping. And it didn’t matter if he was tired, because it was the holidays and they needed someone reliable.

Keigo hated that he was the reliable one. If only because he was afraid of consequences, or well. Afraid wasn’t the appropriate terminology. He didn’t fear the consequences of not doing his work as much as he should’ve. What he feared was the feeling that had been engrained into him from his youth that if he didn’t work hard he’d be found useless. Unworthy. Not good enough.

Fuck all he wanted was to be good enough.

So he worked, and he worked. Through the week of Christmas and through the week of his birthday, and New Years. Until finally he’d gotten time off. Dabi wasn’t happy with him. He knew as much, it was written all over his patchwork features when he finally walked through the door to the penthouse they shared after three weeks of near endless work, and sleeping at the office.

“You look like shit, Bird Brain.” He said, giving him an eye roll for the books, exaggerated and annoyed.

“For what it’s worth, I kinda feel like shit too.” Keigo answered, shaking his head as he headed towards the closet, the first thing on his agenda was a shower.


His shower was over too damn fast, but even the water didn’t seem to help his aching muscles. He felt like his wing nubs were burning, the muscles in his back so damn achy and tense that it was almost a miracle that he hadn’t fallen from the sky on his flight home. When he left the bathroom finally, grey sweatpants hung low on his hips and his chest was bare.

Added bonus, Dabi was already waiting for him in the bed. “Ya know, I’m not really big on the holidays, but you missed Christmas, New Years, and your birthday. So who the fuck am I burning for making that schedule?”

He found himself amused, because Dabi’s words didn’t exactly match the almost soft expression on his face or the way laid lazily against the pillows with his arms open as if inviting him in. And he was more than willing to accept that invitation aching muscles craving the heat he knew he’d find in the man ahead of him.

“No one.” Keigo answered, slipping into the bed, and into the open arms of the villain in front of him. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“You suck literally all of the fun out of everything, don’t you?” Dabi teased, another eye roll ensued.

Keigo laughed. “Yup, that’s my job.”

He knew Dabi though, if it came out, the bastards would be dead by morning. All of them, and the man in front of him would feel approximately zero remorse for it. And granted, he’d be free. He’d be a free bird able to make his own decisions, which was something he thirsted for. But--- his morals wouldn’t allow him to stoop so low.

“They’re gonna be the death of you---” Warm fingers trailed up and over his back, and he heard the intake of breath as fingers worked his skin. “Fuck--- You’re tense.”

Fingertips continued to trail heated lines up and over and all over available flesh. A small pile of his remaining feathers rested in the far corner of the room, and when Dabi’s fingers brushed past the irritated skin around the wing nubs, and just the briefest of those fleeting touches left him moaning softly. “Shit--- That feels good.”

A reaction that got continued heated warmth from calloused fire seared finger tips that just continued to work and work and work until he felt like he was putty on the bed and in his hands.

"You like that, Pretty Bird?"Dabi asked, his lips quirked up into a smirk. "You'd better be taking the day off tomorrow."

"I am supposed to see some time off tomorrow yes." Keigo breathed against mismatched skin.

"How many days?" He asked, his finger tips pressing down harder into tense muscles and driving that heat into his soul. Keigo thought he might break under it.

"Not enough." Keigo sighed in response, biting his lip to halt another moan from escaping his lips, instead he busies himself with placing soft kisses against grafted skin, and unblemished skin.

"Don't think that your kisses are distracting me, Icarus. You need to take a damn break… they're going to kill you."

It was moments like these, with heated fingers massaging tension from aching muscles and soft worried words uttered against the side of his head that he knew that despite all of his callous and careless and sometimes cruel behavior, Dabi really did actually give a damn what happened to him.

"You try telling them no, Sunshine." Keigo breathed, "Actually on second thought don't."

"And why the fuck not, Keigo?" He raised a brow at him, "Because I'm sure hell not afraid of them."

There was silence in the air as those fingers continued to trace soft lines over irritated skin and tense muscles. He was trying to think of all the reasons for him to avoid the bastards who managed his work load.

"I understand that you're just as dangerous as they are. And I'm not discounting the fact that you'd wreck their shit before they took you down." He sighed, tipping his head to rest in the crook of Dabi's neck, "But inevitably they'd take you down. Or you'd burn yourself up before you finished 'em off and I… Don't want to think about that either."

"Fucking hell." Dabi muttered, his trailing motions trailing off until they stopped. "I'm a villain, Birdbrain. It's my job to disobey the rules."

"I am literally begging you… just this once…" He raised his head up, golden eyes tainted with worry staring up into cerulean crystals filled with edges of malice and sheer determination. "Please don't. It's not worth it."

"Shut up." Dabi growled his tone deep and low, "You are always going to be worth it."