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It’s not often Keigo has a Sunday off. Or a day off altogether. Even when he’s not on hero duty, there’s always a talk-show, an interview, a meeting with a brand, some PR things to take care of. But today, by some kind of miracle, it’s Sunday and he doesn’t have anything to do except lazing around.
The morning sun is filtering through the closed curtains but Keigo doesn’t want to move just yet. Pigeon stretches against him, pressing her paws against his mouth with a yawn. Keigo scratches her under the chin and the purring machine starts.
The smell of fresh coffee floats from the kitchen to the bedroom and he hears the faint sounds of Dabi moving around. The noise is now familiar, comforting somehow. His apartment doesn’t feel cold and empty anymore. He still has those moments where his conscience nags him, reminding him that Dabi is still on the most wanted list, that this situation is not going to last, that at some point, there will be betrayal, heartbreak, maybe even death for one of them. Or both of them. There’s no happy ending in sight. Keigo knows it. And he knows that Dabi knows it too.
So why do they keep that masquerade going? Why do they let this domesticity happen? Pigeon chirps softly, as if she could feel his trouble, and bumps her head against his chin. Keigo pets her, shoving away the doubts to just enjoy the quietness of the moment. Even if they’re just fooling themselves with playing pretend, Keigo doesn’t want to let go of this. That sense of normality anchors him more than anything else. The simple comfort of having a home, a place he’s actually eager to go back to, somewhere where he’s expected, even if it’s just by a cat who talks to birds and a mass-murderer who can cook kick-ass karaahage, he’ll take it. Because that’s more than he ever had and probably more than he will ever do.
He curls around Pigeon for a while longer, letting her purrs and soft fur under his fingertips shuts down his mind and concerns. He fumbles on the nightstand to grab the remote that controls the curtains and presses the button to open them. Sun pours through the wide windows and finishes to dissipate his gloomy mood.
He finally finds the strength to leave the warm bed, Pigeon rushing between his legs.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
Keigo smiles at Dabi who’s standing in front of the windows, wearing only one of Keigo’s harem pants. The scarred skin seems less taught, the healthy one less sickly pale, all in all, Dabi looks healthier and it makes Keigo stupidly happy. “Morning.”
Dabi starts a playlist on the massive speakers and stretches his arms above his head. “Coffee in the pot.”
Keigo hums. He fills Pigeon’s bowl with food and water before going for a mug and the coffee pot. He turns around to ask Dabi if he wants one and freezes. He stares at the villain in some kind of weird position, legs spread wide, one of his forearms resting on the floor and his other arm pointing toward the high ceiling.
Dabi doesn’t pay attention to Keigo, focused on what is probably a yoga routine. The movements are slow and controlled. Keigo knew Dabi was flexible but not that flexible. The way he moves, effortless and graceful, is completely mesmerizing.
Too mesmerizing.
“Fuck.”
Keigo jumps back as hot coffee spills from his overfilled mug and onto the floor. Dabi stops his movements and looks at Keigo, eyebrow raised.
“You okay Birdie?”
Keigo blinks, mouth dry, and a growing problem in his shorts. He raises an awkward thumb. “Never been better.”
Dabi snorts and saunters towards him, visibly amused. He takes the coffee pot from Keigo’s hand and sets it on the counter. “Do it with me.”
“Do what?”
“The stretching. You’ll feel better.”
“I’m feeling just fine,” Keigo grumbles.
Dabi smirks, pressing his body against Keigo’s. “You look all tense. C’mon, I’ll help you.”
Keigo groans at the contact, his hands finding Dabi’s ass to pull him closer. “I know a good way to relieve those tensions.”
Dabi nips at his ear lobe and wriggles out of Keigo’s embrace. “Fifteen minutes of yoga and then maybe we’ll try your method.”
Dabi takes his hand and Keigo lets the villain drag him to the open space in front of the windows.
“I’m flexible enough, you know?” Keigo tries again.
“Beg to differ. You’re strong but you’re not flexible.” Dabi slots between the red wings, his lips brushing against Keigo’s neck. His arms slide under Keigo’s and gently bring them backward. “You bitch about having sore muscles every time I bend you in two.”
Keigo huffs and presses his ass against Dabi’s groin. “No proof of that. And is it still stretching or just one of your evil plans to make my life a living hell?”
“Just warming up.” The warm breath against his ear makes Keigo shiver. The muscles of his back and shoulders pull and stretch but not in an uncomfortable way. “Breathe, birdie.”
Keigo lets out a long exhale as Dabi releases his arms. Fingers trace the curve of Keigo’s ribs to rest on his waist. For the next fifteen minutes, Dabi guides him through a routine, the positions harder and harder until they reach the point where Dabi is sprawled on Keigo’s back, forcing him to bend until his forehead touches the ground. This is hell. Dabi is the evilest villain on earth, born to torture him in every way possible. The muscles of his thighs scream in pain, his abs are burning. He’s going to die.
“Dabiiiii.”
“Just a few more seconds. Breathe and stop whining.”
“I have hollow bones!”
“And I have a boner.”
Keigo splutters. “What?”
“What?”
“But-”
“Not relevant. Keep breathing.”
Keigo shuts his eyes and tries to breathe deeply, as he’s told, but it’s hard when you have a grown-ass man laying on your back, even if said grown-ass man is scrawny. Finally Dabi has mercy on him and moves away. He keeps his hands on Keigo’s shoulders.
“Slowly,” he instructs. “Follow your breath.”
Keigo rises up, alleviating the pressure on his thighs’ muscles. Pigeon is staring at him with her wide blue eyes, curious as to why her humans are doing those weird contortions.
With a groan, Keigo moves his legs in a more natural position, wings folding on his back. “Are we done?”
Dabi runs fingers into Keigo’s hair, tugging slightly on the strands. “Yes, we are.” He offers Keigo a hand to help him stand up.
“Can we jump to the fun part now?”
Dabi smirks. “I guess you earned it.”
“Hell yeah, I did.” Keigo takes Dabi’s hand and leads him back to the bedroom on wobbly legs. His wings spread slightly to help him keep his balance. “I’m warning you, you’re the one doing all the work.”
“Lazy bird.”
He turns around with a grin. “Very lazy.” He raises on the tip of his toes and presses a kiss on Dabi’s scarred lips. “Learned from the best.”
“Tyrant.”
“Jerk.”