Midnight Skies - A DabixReader Story

Rophatem

It was almost a little eerie how easy he was being with you. He himself had instigated the cuddling between you both once you'd both collected yourselves enough to move again, flopping down beside you and pulling you flush against him.
He'd even preemptively brushed your hair out of the way of his staples so you wouldn't get caught on the metal sutures that lined his body. You laid still upon him, not wanting to risk moving too quick or saying something that would scare him off, or cause the return of the cold and threatening persona he'd worn during the whole time you'd known him before today.
Honestly, it was nice to be held. You hadn't really been held like this since breaking things off with Junichiro, and whenever you'd held Dabi before, it had always been tainted by his reluctance and complaints, whether it was half-heartedly said and done or not.
Dabi was like an electric blanket thanks to his Quirk, and the rhythmic motion of his chest as he breathes threatens to send you straight to sleep after your session together earlier.
You close your eyes slowly, being lulled into a sense of complete relaxation against him.
You could almost pretend he wasn't one of Japan's most notorious villains when things were like this.

You don't even catch yourself drifting off against him until he shifts from underneath you, clearly trying to move you off of him without disturbing your sleep, except his attempt is unsuccessful as you wake the second he moves.
"Hm?" You ask sleepily.
"Need water. Go back to sleep." He says a little gruffly, using you finally waking up to his advantage, able to move you more efficiently now you were awake.
He was overheating again, you could hear him lamenting mentally about it. He felt sick, and he was slowly becoming covered in beads of sweat as he scoots himself towards the edge of the bed, reaching for his boxers.
"S'there anything I can do to help?" You ask, slowly leaning up onto your elbow and rubbing your eyes.
He shakes his head, haphazardly throwing your duvet over your body. He was planning on getting himself some water and hanging out of your window with a cigarette. He wanted to be left alone, you could tell from the way he was thinking. You weren't featured in his thoughts at all.
Not wanting to push his patience, you allow him to leave the room in silence.

You had the music still playing to keep you company while he had cool-off time, anyway, and you should probably get up and make food. Thanks to your lack of sleep from the night before, you'd slept till mid-afternoon. You needed to eat, and cooking was the perfect thing to do to make you feel less lazy having laid in bed for most of the day.
You throw the sports bra and sweatpants that Dabi had torn off your body earlier back on, stretching your aching body out and cricking your neck from side to side.
You need to think of a cold dish you can make, something easy on the stomach seeing as Dabi had clearly given himself heat stroke from your activities earlier.
You sit back down on the edge of your bed as you scroll through recipes on your phone, spotting a kimchi fried rice dish that seemed easy enough to cook. You were unsure on how Dabi would fare with the kimchi though, so with a slight grimace, you stand back up, walking down the hallway to your living room and popping your head around the door.

"Dabi?" You ask, looking at him as he sits on your windowsill in nothing but his boxers, his scars all on show, and you were less distracted now, able to see the full extent of the damage his Quirk had done to his body.
As he turns lazily to face you, you can't help but close your mouth and stare at him like you're star struck. He looked like a painting some indie kid would have hanging on their wall right now, one scarred arm hanging out of the window, a lit cigarette hanging from his fingers outside.
His scarring is extensive, even covering half of each foot, which you hadn't expected, and you can't help but find even his little stomach roll as he hunches himself into the tiny window-space extremely attractive too.
"Oi." He says, his icy stare narrowing a little. "What?"
The slight glare shakes you out of your daze and your eyes widen.
"Sorry, you're just..." You begin saying, only to stop yourself when you realise just how lame the rest of that sentence was going to be.
He's a little offended, you hear that before he put that mental block on you again.

You suppose offence at staring is only natural for him. He wasn't exactly a conventional beauty, and you could easily imagine that he'd had his fair share of ableist assholes being rude, never mind remembering the shallow women you'd seen his previous experiences with.
"You're just really pretty." You relent, preferring being lame over potentially upsetting him, especially seeing as his scars seemed to be a sore spot for him. It genuinely never bothered you, and you didn't want him to think at any point that it did.
His eyes widen immediately, and you don't miss the slight pink that dusts the clear spaces of his face even from the distance between you both.
He turns his face, bringing his arm back inside to take a breath from his cigarette. He doesn't look at you as he speaks again.
"What do ya want?" He asks, as he flicks cigarette ash out of the window.
"Random question, but you like kimchi?" You ask, the question leaving you a little rushed. You were a bit flustered from what you'd said too. You'd never called a guy pretty. Ever. And the fact such a childish compliment had left you, towards a feared and established criminal no less, left you wanting the ground to swallow you whole.

He snorts, agreeing mentally that it was a random question, but you're just happy to hear a positive sound from him, even if it is at your expense.
"I don't mind it." He says simply, taking another toke from his cigarette.
You give a little 'hm' before ducking back around the door and closing it behind you. It wasn't exactly a enthusiastic response, but it wasn't often you did get an enthusiastic response out of him outside of sex.
There was the matter of the heatstroke too. You were second guessing whether a little spice was a good idea if he already felt uncomfortably hot. You could see if you still had the chilli-free kimchi you'd brought for a dinner you'd made Sota once, but you were dubious about whether it'd be in date considering you couldn't even remember how long ago it was you'd even made that meal for him.
Luckily, after a quick check of your fridge, you found the kimchi for the weaker stomached, and are relieved to see it's in date still.
As you cook, you leave your phone on the side, playing music for you to sing along to quietly as you made lunch for the two of you.

Dabi doesn't join you, which is fine. The kitchen would warm up the second you started frying the rice anyway.
The sooner he got over the heatstroke, the sooner you'd have the less abrasive Dabi back again.
The meal doesn't take too long to cook at all, so you decide to wash everything you used up to allow the food to cool down a bit more, more for Dabi than yourself, but you weren't too fussy.
With that all done, you slide your phone back into your pocket, lifting the plates up and using your elbows to open the doors up on the way back to your living room.
When you enter the room, you're a little surprised to see Dabi bonding with a cat on his lap. A cat that was absolutely not your own.
"Uh..."
He looks over at you, his eyes seemingly set back into that stony, cold stare again.
"This cat have an owner?" He asks, petting the cats head uncharacteristically gently.
"I don't know?" You reply, approaching them both. "I don't think I've ever noticed it around before."

You pass him the plate, barely picking up on his mumbled 'thanks' as he takes it from you, keeping it out of reach from the cat who seems to have taken even more of an interest in the food that's appeared.
You reach out to pet the cat with your now free hand and it bumps its nose against your fingers gently. You can't help the small smile that forms on your face.
"You should keep it if it doesn't have an owner." Dabi says nonchalantly, watching you intently as you retract from the furry invader slowly.
"Cats don't work that way." You say with a small shake of your head and a slight snort. "They don't belong to anyone, they bounce around from person to person depending who's got food or not."
You gesture vaguely towards the cat that's attempting to climb up Dabi's body to get to his rice.
"Case in point."
Dabi ends up shifting from the windowsill to avoid the cat, who immediately jumps further into your living room, making itself right at home as it lands on the carpet and begins bathing itself.
"You're taking that with you when you leave." You say simply, sitting at the table.

Dabi sits opposite you, giving the cat a brief glimpse before smirking.
"But he looks right at home here. Just needs a little love is all."