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#flash forward fifteen minutes and you are both tumped over in the shower LAUGHING
willowser · 1 year
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the tag “he’s not having sex!!” is killing me im trying so hard to keep it together in this coffee shop rn trying not to cackle
also yeah dabi probably considered the time that you helped him take a fully clothed shower (because he wasnt comfortable at the moment even if he was by himself to be naked) to be third base. maybe even a home run idk
LMAOOO okay okay, not to get on a serious note, but your shower bit 🥺 i genuinely think dabi would be so, so fun for friends to lovers. because a totally platonic relationship with him must be hilarious; this man is a smart ass, okay? he will always have you cracking up. and i think if he views you as just some acquaintance of his, he's more prone to like. just chatting with you or shooting the shit or drinking or walking around at all hours of the night when neither of you can sleep. it's not until things start to get a little...softer, i think, that he pulls back—but that's what makes it so good !
because it could come out of nowhere, for either of you. one minute you're sharing a bottle in a brown paper bag under the bright city lights, talking shit about pro heroes, and the next—
"fuck, i'm freezing." you laugh as you say it, but your teeth won't stop chattering and your legs are starting to feel like they're made of lead. you have to come to a stop, leaning against some abandoned shop in this lesser part of town.
"should'a dressed right," dabi murmurs, having the audacity to tell you such a thing even though he's in pants with holes in the knees, without a jacket. already he sounds like he's sobering up, but you suppose he can't help it; his metabolism probably eats through everything.
"can't all be so h-hot-blooded."
tired, his mouth stretches in a lazy smirk, and he rolls his eyes like you're being dramatic—despite the fact that it's snowing. "ain't that bad."
you beg to differ. "feel my hands!"
he watches you carefully as you offer them, like he's putting too much thought into it, suddenly. it's not often that you two really touch, not if he can help it, because there's never been a need. not before now.
the facade of his nonchalance is readjusted, though there's a tension lining his mouth that you've never seen on him, not with you. he tucks the bag underneath his armpit so that he can use both his hands, and then he folds your fingers down into fists and covers them with his own.
entirely, the long and rough expanse of his palms dwarfing you. it's hot, immediately, and the sensation has you shuddering in relief, letting out a grateful little sound as your body sways closer to his on instinct. neither of you say anything, and you're too tipsy too notice the grit of his jaw or the bob of his adam's apple.
been a long time since he touched someone, just 'cause. with the intention of helping instead of harming.
you don't care, only let out another teeth chattering whine before pressing your cheek into the back of his hand. yours is icy, but his own heat at the sight of you nuzzling into him like a fucking kitten.
it's weird, but only lasts for a moment before you're pulling away and turning to wobble down the sidewalk, back in the direction of the hideout. you almost slip once and the screech you let out is enough to make you both laugh, for now—but neither of you will be able to sleep tonight without thinking about it, his skin against yours.
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