The scent of burnt coffee still clung to the air, a familiar aroma that hung heavy in Dabi's apartment. Or, more accurately, Touya's apartment, as he still sometimes called it in my head. It was strange, being here, in this space that felt both foreign and intimately known. We'd just finished watching some stupid action movie, the kind we used to get a kick out of before everything fell apart. The relaxed atmosphere was a welcome change from the usual tension that vibrated between us, a static charge of unspoken things.
But beneath the surface, that familiar ache was returning. My own body was betraying me, the blood rushing to my cock, making it press hard against the fabric of the sweats I'd changed into earlier. Dabi, or Touya, his eyes sharp, caught the shift in my posture. He let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "Go deal with that," he said, his voice rough but not unkind, nodding his head towards an extra room.
I felt my cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and desire. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and all but fled. Inside the room, the small space seemed to amplify the heat thrumming in my veins. I ripped off my sweats, the cool air a momentary shock against my skin. I lay back on the bed, the fabric beneath me feeling too slick, too soft. And then I started to stroke myself, the slow, deliberate rhythm bringing me closer to the edge.
Just as I was lost in the rising tide of need, my phone buzzed on the bedside table. It was Bakugo, his name blazing across the screen like a challenge. "What the hell does he want now?" I muttered, annoyed. I answered, my voice still panting, the need in my body making me impatient.
"Oi, Icyhot!" Bakugo shouted, his usual abrasive tone grating on my nerves. But then, he stopped mid-sentence. I knew those sounds—the shaky breaths, the low grunts. I could feel my flush bloom hotter across my skin as I realized he had heard me. I wasn't ashamed by my need. It was just another thing I pushed down deep.
"Get on FaceTime," I demanded, my voice husky. The audacity of it surprised even me. I reveled in the shock, and the way his voice hitched, "What?! You serious?"
I smirked, "Do it, Bakugo". I got my answer when the call switched to video. He was a mess – flushed cheeks, eyes wide. But beneath the shock, I saw the raw need mirroring my own. He stripped, his own hands finding their way to his body, but he moved slow. The slow pain that came with teasing yourself.
I watched him, and matched his pace, moving the same slow way until I felt that familiar ache rise up in my chest. The way my own tension reached the surface, I knew I needed to take things up a notch. The air crackled with the power of my quirk and I let a wave of controlled heat wash over my skin, the temperature play adding another layer to the already intense sensation. The moans that escaped him, and me, felt so raw, so real. We pushed each other, the visual of his flushed face, his own hand circling him, only fueling my movements. We both reached our peaks at the same time, our cries merging in a messy symphony of release.
After the call, we both went quiet for a moment. Bakugo's face was still flushed, and his breathing was ragged. "We can never speak of this again," he said, his voice rough with a bizarre tenderness I found intoxicating, "But… maybe we could do it again sometime." I smirked. This was going to be fun. "Agreed."
I showered, the cool water doing little to soothe the heat that still simmered beneath my skin. I pulled on clean sweats and a shirt, and stepped back into the living room.
The scene that greeted me made me stop short. Dabi was on the couch, tangled with Hawks, hands lost in pants, and tongues battling. The sound of Hawks' moans filled the air. It was brazen, uninhibited, and… frankly, impressive. I had no idea what kind of hold those two had over each other. "Guess this is my time to go." I announced, a slight laugh in my tone as I walked back to my own room.
Later, Dabi knocked, his expression more neutral than I had gotten used to. "You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied, "How was Hawks?"
A smirk played on his lips, replacing his usual guarded expression. "Delicious," he admitted, a hint of mischief in his eyes, "He went out on patrol after."
The thought of Dabi and Hawks, a hero and a villain, together was baffling and I had to ask. The question hung heavy in the air between us.
He looked at me, amused, as if he could read my thoughts, which he probably could. "We've been together since we were teenagers," he explained.
My eyebrows shot up. Teenagers? How was that even possible? And yet it made perfect sense. The raw, intense connection I had just saw between the both of them. "Woah," was all I could muster.
"Yeah, well," Dabi shrugged, as if it were the most mundane thing in the world.
"I support it," I said honestly, "If it makes you happy, then I'm happy for you."
He smiled, a genuine smile that warmed something inside me. "Thanks, Shoto." he said and then added, "Ordering takeout. Sound good?"
"Sounds great."
Maybe this was going to be okay, I thought, as I sat on my bed, catching up on some late night school work. Maybe even good. Maybe this wasn't going to be a bad change after all.