A Splash in My Life

Dabi found himself smiling as he walked alongside the crimson-winged man down the gritty, slightly darkened streets of sunset Japan.
The hero was once again talking on about a random subject- probably the fourth topic he'd jumped to in the last two minutes.
He talked fast most of the time- at least he did when he knew Dabi was watching.
The villain had seen how much more evenly paced Hawks would talk when with others and had been quite amused.
He often found himself wondering if his old friend was just nervous around him or if perhaps he just believed Dabi could keep up with his fast pace.
Either way, he wouldn't change a thing.

The fast tongue and witty commentary of the hero was always the highlight of a long day spent with psychopaths.
Dabi found himself calling for meetings with Hawks more and more frequently.
He'd eventually given up excuses and just admitted he'd been bored and just wanted to see the other man. The blond hadn't complained or teased him though.
So, they'd simply begun slowly hanging out just for the sake of sane company over the last several months.

Though Dabi would never admit it, he loved the rush of color and sense of adventure the hero brought with him.
He'd always find himself looking at the world in a rather monotone way, not caring to see how brilliant a thing colors could be.
When he was young, red was a color that brought him fear and made his stomach churn- but now he found it brought him excitement and even more oddly, joy.

The very concept of happiness had long since been scrapped by the scarred man; he'd dubbed it a meaninglessness waste of time and effort.
After mastering the art of shutting off his emotions, Dabi had simply kept himself entirely blank- and that worked rather well for quite some time.
He'd spent the last five or so years nearly void of any emotion. It had been a blank canvas and he was satisfied with that.

But then Keigo came back into his life, bringing metaphorical paintbrushes and brilliant colors bursting into a beautiful new picture of fun and chaos with every new, unpredictable brush stroke.
Oh how wonderful life was when your heart fluttered for someone else.

It was almost comical to an outside perspective, seeing a hero and a villain side by side with rosey cheeks and wide smiles as they often were around each other- though Dabi would keep his smiles small or inward, they were most certainly there.

"So, what are your thoughts?"

Dabi spared a sideways glance at the blond, who was looking at him expectantly behind his yellow visor.
Fuck. I wasn't listening-
"Yes?"
"So you think I should choke on Satan's dick? Duly noted."
"Wait what?"
He stopped in his tracks, looking Hawks over for a moment.
What had he been talking about?
The other man laughed, running a hand through his thick blond locks. "You weren't listening, were you?"
"I was."
"Alright. Tell me one thing I said- not the Satan's dick thing."
The scarred man inwardly groaned.
Think, think, think.. what was he saying?

"You said I was the most outstanding and well-mannered villain- or even just man- you'd ever met." He gave a wry smirk, glancing from the hero's ruffled feathers back to his now furrowed brows.
"That's incorrect."
"Yeah, well-"
A sharp ringing cut Dabi off mid sentence.
Hawks put back on his smile, digging his phone out of the depths of his ocean-deep pocket. "Pro hero Hawks speaking, how can I help?"

The villain crossed his arms over his chest with a small huff. A black shadow fell into his vision but he made no effort to move it. His hair often fell onto his eyes and that was just how it was.
There was no way he would ever change that.
Sometimes, it was nice hiding in the bleak shelter it provided.
After a moment of watching the blond shifting back and forth on his tip toes, he turned, catching the last bit of the phone call.
"Will do- downtown, right? No, it's no trouble. I'm with a friend- he'll understand. Yes, I'll tell him."
Dabi's stomach dropped into his toes, much like it always did when riding with Spinner's hectic driving.
He was going to walk off, but a gloved hand rested on his shoulder, sending a wave of nauseating heat and flutters through his body.