Chasing You

Chase Sixteen: Taking Care of the Sick (Kinda)

"Did you mean what you said?" Tomura held the bowl of soup and blew on it to try and cool it down. He would have to feed Dabi but that was fine. 

"About what?" Dabi thought back about the many things he said but ultimately didn't want to remember any of that embarrassing shit. 

"Are you willing to join me?" Tomura held out the spoon for Dabi. 

"I'm practically a criminal already. I did a lot of shit to try and find you in the first place," Dabi sighed. He stared at the spoon and then looked at Tomura. There was no way in hell he was going to be fed like this. 

"If you don't fucking eat, I'll have to make you," Tomura's eyes seemed to glow all on their own. 

"This is too fucking strange," Dabi complained. 

"You have three seconds to act as an adult or I'm going to force this down your pathetic throat," Tomura snapped. 

"I really-"

"3" 

"Don't think-"

"2"

"That-" 

"1" Tomura took a spoonful of his own soup masterpiece and placed the bowl down on the nightstand. He leaned forward and grabbed Dabi's shirt, pulling him toward himself. Tomura kissed him, draining the soup from his mouth to Dabi's, and slid his tongue inside Dabi's mouth to force the liquid down into Dabi's throat. He meant what he said. And he would continue to do this if he had to. 

"What the fuck?" Dabi's face was slightly red, not that you could tell really. Tomura wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and crossed his arms. 

"Are you going to fucking eat?" He neglected to realize that he still didn't have gloves and his shirt started to whither away. "Oh fuck, shit, damnit," Tomura uncrossed his arms and glared at his own chest. "I liked this shirt," he sighed. The decay wouldn't stop until the shirt was completely gone. He shook his head and searched the apartment for something to use as gloves in the meantime. 

"Do you have a sewing kit?" Tomura asked. Dabi was distracted by his withering shirt he didn't hear the question. "Hello?" Tomura waved his hand in front of Dabi's face. "Do you have a sewing kit?" 

"Hm? What? Yeah, there is a small one in the top drawer over yonder," Dabi glanced in the direction he meant. Tomura wandered over and searched for it. He was going to turn one of Dabi's old shirts into gloves. He sat down on the floor and got to work. Still half-naked. 

"I thought you were going to feed me?" Dabi laughed. 

"I can't feed you if I can't hold the fucking spoon." 

"Fair enough." 

In practically no time at all Tomura managed to make gloves. They didn't look too bad either. He sat back down next to Dabi and grabbed the bowl. "Are you going to eat?" 

"Can't you put a shirt on first?" 

"No." 

"Right..." Dabi glanced away. 

"Open up, bitch," Tomura held out the spoon. Dabi sighed and reluctantly opened his mouth. 

"That wasn't so fucking hard, was it?" Tomura rolled his eyes. He held out another spoonful but the lighting, the way Dabi was practically blushing, and his reluctance to open his mouth all led Tomura's mind to nasty places. He wasn't feeding him a fucking banana and yet- 

"I'm going to hell," Tomura mumbled. 

"I'll burn you there if you want," Dabi laughed. 

Tomura held the bowl to Dabi's mouth instead. "Just drink it in one go, please."