Chapter Text
You lean forward on the glass railing in front of you. You only recently moved into your new Tokyo penthouse, and this spacious balcony gives you peace every time you overlook the buildings.
It’s late, and though you should be exhausted, your mind won’t turn off as you rewind through memories of the past and present. Everything has been overwhelming lately—or you guess it has been for the past decade.
You reread the file you received from Madam Prez over and over; your eyes scanning every page. Even with little details about the man you’re supposed to question, he seems sort of familiar to you.
That’s enough, you think—and throw the file on a lounge chair behind you.
You hold a cigarette butt between your fingertips and twist it against the metal part of the railing, putting it out. A small cloud of fumes is formed, but disappears soon after. What lingers in the night air is a stale, smoky wind, an odor reminiscent of… Dabi.
Like always, you’ve been too busy to meet up, and the last time you saw each other was the night of the masquerade. To be honest, your mind has been preoccupied with other things, so you haven’t thought about him much. But when everything’s said and done, he lingers in the back of your mind like glue.
His words echo in your head: Until you decide you wanna release some stress, right? You always come back.
You sigh, fingers hovering above the keyboard on your phone. His contact name reads: “Unknown ID.” You can’t have anyone snooping and finding his name in your contacts, after all.
Running a hand through your hair, you tap the ‘send’ button:
“Hey, can I come over?”
Almost instantly, he sends a text back:
“Window’s unlocked.”
A man of few words. You glance at the top left corner of the screen, the time showing up as 11:53PM.
——————
Soaring through the city with your ability to manipulate air, the atmosphere is cool and serene. It feels as if you’re the only person in the world. Flying always invokes some sense of tranquility in you—making your heart warm.
Finding Dabi’s apartment, you touch down on the flat roof with a soft thud as you hit the concrete. It’s an abandoned building in a not-so-great neighborhood, but the electricity works as well as the water and any basic necessities.
You slide your body over the side of the building, fingers gripping the edge of the roof before you throw yourself into Dabi’s room through the open window. Luckily, your good balance allows you to land on your feet.
The space is big, though empty. The walls are made of brick, and the ceiling looks a bit worn down. His bed sits in the middle of the room with two nightstands on each side, and there’s a random coat rack in the corner next to a few shelves of books. The one thing in here that shows some semblance of personality is his desk on the other side of the room—adorned with more books, a lamp, a computer, a few papers (plans for something?), and two posters above it.
“Hi,” you say after a few seconds of eye contact.
“Hey,” his voice is hoarse. He’s sat shirtless on the bed, hands together under his chin.
“So what if I keep coming back?” you question, referring to the other night.
He raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“Would it be better if I stayed away? If I did, wouldn’t you be the one coming back to me?” You step closer to him with every word.
He moves his head upwards to meet your gaze as there’s now only a few centimeters of space between you. “And what if I was?”
“I don’t know,” you whisper.
And before you know it, his fingers are digging into your hips—pulling you into a straddle on his lap. Your own hands are snaking around his shoulders, stopping at the back of his neck. Even though you’ve done this ritual countless times, he never fails to spark a brand new electricity in your veins.
As your lips find each other in a bruising kiss, Dabi can’t ignore the burning sensation in his chest—the suffocating one that only occurs when you’re near—and it makes his heart pump a little faster, and his jaw move like a man starved. He can’t help how much you have him wrapped around your finger, and he doesn’t know why.
Your fingertips move up into his hair as your tongues fight for dominance over each other. He sighs into your mouth: a noise of satisfaction. “It’s… been weeks…” he says between kisses while his fingers move to slide your skirt off as well as your top—tossing them aside.
You’re bare in front of him now, vulnerable as the intense atmosphere grows stronger. Every inch of your silk-like skin is a Holy Grail that he won’t stop exploring until he’s memorized every dip, curve, and wrinkle.
You break the kiss for a second as his eyes scan over every part of your body. Something he will never get tired of.
He gently places his fingers on your chin, locking his eyes on yours—a brief change from the hungry man just a second ago. He brings his face next to your ear.
”You’re so perfect.”
Shivers coat your entire spine.
His mouth meets the sensitive flesh of your neck now, and neither of you can think straight anymore. He sucks the soft spots hard enough to bruise, as if marking you like a vampire.
“Dabi…” You bite your lip.
”Mm?”
”Just… keep doing that…” you breathe out, and you swear you can feel his mouth smirking against your skin. Not only that, but the heat of his breath is killing you.
His hands roam, feeling the softness of your breasts, to your abdomen, up and down your toned thighs. Yours, however, hold onto his biceps before moving again into the black forest that is his untamed hair.
After a while of this, you change it up—pressing your palms against his contoured chest, pushing him onto the bed. His back sinks into the rustling covers, and you hurriedly unbuckle his belt, fumbling a little before throwing it to the floor; you do the same with his jeans. He lets out a low chuckle, and when you smile, the sharp edges of Dabi’s face soften just a little.
Cupping his chin with one hand, you bring your face to his, locking lips once again. When you pull away, you take his wrists and place them above his head.
”Can I?” you ask.
”You can do whatever you want...” His sultry eyes are full of something that screams he’s at your mercy.
——————
A thin layer of sweat coats both of your bodies now as your hips grind back and forth on top of him—moving faster by the second.
“You feel so good,” he pants.
From your view, he’s beautiful. The way his chest heaves under you, the sound of your breaths mingling—becoming one, every time he throws his head back from the mix of pleasure and pain, his eyes glowing from the moonlight in the shadows you’re in.
He groans, and the noise makes your fingernails claw into his wrists. You’re even faster now—sloppy but in the best way—and you can almost feel the edge of release.
Your thighs tighten around the sides of his hips, and his hands ball up into fists; knuckles turning white from the strength. The pressure in his core is overwhelming, begging to be relieved.
His voice is worn out, coming in pauses: “Please, you’re…” He hisses sharply. “…So good… [y/n]… I’m about to…”
”Me too… Dabi,” you moan.
In that moment, it feels as if the world has come crashing down on your shoulders when you finally let go at the same time. The sensation of a million exploding stars spreads across your bodies, and it’s a different high that drinks and drugs don’t give you.
With dropping eyelids, both of you let out uneven, shallow gasps. Your body feels heavy now as you collapse on top of Dabi, face nuzzled in his neck. He immediately brings his hands up to catch you and hold you like porcelain.
”That was amazing.”
Under your ear is his heartbeat: running about a hundred miles per hour—as if it’ll break through his rib cage.