bellow the fire into my deadened lungs
chapter 2 excerpt — important and embarrassing conversations read full story here
They all take care of Touya as he heals while trying to be discreet as possible. Keigo will go on patrol, Natsou will attend his classes but has a friend record each lecture he misses, and Shouto spends almost all of his free time back at Keigo’s apartment, now that his internship is over, what with Endeavor in a — 'satisfyingly' — medically-induced coma.
No one tells Fuyumi.
They all love her, especially Touya who misses his twin the same way he misses his tears. But they’re not sure if Fuyumi would tell Enji — who's bound to wake up eventually — where Touya is currently hiding, under the, ‘poorly led assumption that Enji is a changed man’ — Natsou’s words.
The first week of healing is absolutely grueling.
The second is worse.
The third, though, is when Natsou declares it’s finally okay to take the bandages off. Something about how far quirk medicine has come in the past decade.
When the bandages are off, Touya is completely shocked, “Natsou, what — how — there are barely any new scars. And — fuck, my seams!” Touya cackles wildly, twisting and turning his arms, “They’ve never looked this good!”
Natsou ruffles Touya’s hair, “Modern quirk medicine, man. You should probably take a bath, though. Warm water, different washcloths for each limb. Don’t put any dressing or creams when you’re done, wait at least two hours for all the heat to have left your burns. After that, it’s pretty much the same thing you’ve been doing. You’ve taken pretty good care of them these years — who knows, maybe you could be a doctor yourself,” He nudges, a cheeky smile on his face.
Touya huffs a laugh through his nose, “Another life, maybe.”
Natsou leaves for class with a sad smile, his heart full of melancholy at the way this life has treated his brother
Touya is looking at himself in the large bathroom mirror when Keigo comes stumbling in, “Dabs, are you awake yet? I’ve brought some — oh!” The hero stops short at his opened bathroom door, looking at Touya with wide and sparkling eyes, “Wow. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you like this.”
Touya snorts, “Patched up instead of wrapped up?”
“Whole,” Keigo answers, walking up to Touya to take a closer look at him, “I can’t believe you guys did this without me and Shou.”
Touya shifts, feeling stupidly shy, of all things, and he looks back at the mirror, at his own reflection, “‘S not some grand event, Birdbrain.”
He feels Keigo move, and the hero’s reflection joins his own, golden eyes meeting Touya’s reflected blue, “You’re so pretty.”
Touya’s heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest, and he averts his eyes away from their reflections and down to the sink, “Why're you saying that shit now? I told you, I know what you are.”
Keigo hasn’t kissed him these past three weeks. The only times he touches Touya is when it’s medical and he keeps his distance. They don’t sleep in the same bed. They haven’t talked about it. Keigo doesn’t need ‘Dabi’ anymore.
Touya doesn’t want to care. He doesn’t want the hero's distance to sting the way it does, wants to tell himself that he was using Keigo just as much as Keigo was using him, and that it all meant nothing.
Touya’s a good liar, but, ‘how the hell does someone lie to themselves?’
“Because I’m always thinkin’ it, Dabs.”
Touya whips around to face Keigo and puts two warning hands on the hero’s chest, “Stop it.”
“I — ” Keigo starts, his bottom lip jutted out and quivering for a second, before he presses his lips together and nods, “I’m sorry,” he steps back, “I — I’ve been trying. To give you space. I didn’t mean to cross a line.”
Touya turns his head away from Keigo and misses the way the hero’s eyes trace along the elegant column of Touya’s neck, misses the way black pupils dilate at the movement of his sharp Adam’s-apple, the way Keigo’s chest expands with a silently pining sigh.
The swirls of the marble tile in Kiego’s bathroom start to move the longer Touya stares. His head is such a mess. He’s tired and lost, and although his body has stopped hurting, his heart doesn't.
“I don’t like liars.”
“Dabi,” Keigo pleads, begging for Touya to look at him, “This isn’t the right time, but I need you to know. This, everything between us, it was all real for me. It still is,” Keigo’s short-taloned hand, the very physical testament of his words, lays on Touya’s cheek and urges him to turn, to look at Keigo and meet that pleading golden gaze, “You know when I’m lying. Look me in my eyes and believe me.”
Touya wants to. That’s the part that horrifies him, makes him so fucking scared, because when he looks into Keigo’s heartbreakingly open and honest eyes, he wants to believe him.
He closes his eyes and resigns, leans forward until his forehead meets Keigo’s own.
Keigo whispers against his mouth, “I’m a double agent,” He finally confesses, “But I am on your side.”
Touya nods.
Much later, after Shouto’s visit — “I honestly forgot what you looked like these past few weeks. I like this post-mummification-version of you better, Touya-nii.” — Touya and Keigo sit in the hero’s living room, tending to Touya’s new burns. Touya works on his right arm and Keigo kneels by his feet, wrapping his thigh — easy access due to the villain wearing only a tank top and boxers, borrowed from Keigo.
Keigo decides to bring up the conversation he’s postponed in waiting for Touya’s health to improve, “So. What were you thinking, going off to fight Endeavor alone?”
Touya’s fingers twitch. He was honestly hoping they’d never have this conversion, just forget about it and stay cocooned in this healing nest of a dream world for a little longer.
But the world still orbits, the clocks still tick, and real-life does not pause.
He finishes pinning the clean gauze in place and shrugs a shoulder, “Felt like the right time.”
Keigo scoffs, still focused on wrapping the gauze underneath his thigh, one hand gripping the back of his knee for leverage while the other loops the cloth under, “That’s such bullshit. What about the League? You have access to like, a hundred Nomus!”
And Touya’s a bit shocked, because —‘Is he mad I didn’t have a better plan to… kill… my father…?’
Keigo’s head whips up, and blazing eyes bore into Touya’s own, “What about me?”
Touya snaps.
“Yeah, what about you? The same you that stuffed a body in a duffle bag for a fuckin’ mission? You killed someone, you stupid… Hero,” Touya’s chest heaves, and they both noticed how when he said, ‘hero’, for once, it wasn’t spiteful but had real weight. Like the word held some honor and Keigo broke it.
Keigo sighs, pinning the gauze in place, and sits back on his rear, both knees coming up to rest his elbows on, “Yeah, but not on your orders.” The furrow of Touya’s thin brows makes Keigo explain further, “When I told the Commission about what the League wanted me to do, they… assigned me to do it. They could have found a way around it, but they didn’t. And they didn’t even do it themselves, they actually…”
Keigo’s voice starts to shake, and Touya leans forward, wanting to offer some kind of comfort but still feeling the protective resistance of his own mind take precedence.
“They brought a man in. Told me how to do it. And watched.”
Touya slides off the couch and adjusts himself until his own bent legs brush the insides of Keigo’s, long enough for his toes to reach the side of the hero’s hips. He rests his back against the seat border.
“There’s your reason then. It’s all fuckin’ tainted. Everything needs to be burnt to the fuckin’ ground, and it needs to start with him.”
“Dabi!” Keigo’s fists clench beside his temples and his eyes close tightly in frustration, “Gods, are you so naive to believe your single action would have changed anything!”
When his eyes open again, they’re incredulous and his golden irises look like they’re on fire, and Touya’s shocked at his outburst.
“You won’t be a martyr, Dabs, you’ll be the enemy, and the result will only end up in more heroes just like Endeavor, seeking for revenge on his behalf, completely ignorant to the man he really is. This... this is arrogance, stupidity — ”
A lick of fury runs through Touya and he grabs the collar of Keigo’s shirt and pulls, “Watch it, Birdy. I get it, alrigh', but don’t fuckin’ call me ‘stupid’.”
[ “You stupid, worthless boy!”
“Why do I even bother, those born weak are hopeless!”
“It’s not only your body, your mind is incapable, do you not see the bigger picture?”
“Stupid boy, push through! I am making you strong, can’t you see that!” ]
He lets go and tiredly leans back into the seat border, tilting his head all the way back until it rests on the seat cushion.
“I don’t care about the whole world, I care about four people. There’s no room for anyone else.”
‘Maybe five.’
Keigo scoffs, “Really? You read bedtime stories to Toga because you care about ‘four people’?” Touya’s heart tightens and he restrains his throat from swallowing too much, “You watch romcoms with Twice when he’s having a fit because you only care about ‘four people’? You sleep in Shigaraki’s bed during the winter because you care about ‘four people’? You — ”
Touya balks, his head shooting up, “ — Wait, wha — hold on — how do you know about that?” He demands.
Keigo’s eyes widen before his expression turns sheepish, “I…”
Touya’s eyes narrow, “Birdie…”
Keigo scratches the back of his neck, before booping his two index fingers together repeatedly, “I... So, Toga may have taken a few photos…”
Touya’s absolutely horrified, “You peeping-toms. When?”
Keigo’s eyes make a show of dramatically looking up and around, trying to seem like he doesn’t actually remember clearly, “Uh, heh, she said it happened in November, but she told me around the holidays?”
Touya groans, flopping his head back to the couch cushion.
[ Shigaraki hasn’t stopped staring at Dabi ever since he turned off the television. He’s just been standing in the doorway, itching his neck in obvious stress.
Dabi gives the guy the benefit of the doubt, “... What'd'you want, ya sandpaper reject?”
Shigaraki hesitates for a moment, shuffling his feet, “... My room is fuckin’ freezing. Can you heat up my sheets?”
Dabi sighs and thinks, ‘this again.’
He gets up, knees cracking and spine arching as he stretches a bit, ignoring the way Shigaraki’s eyes deviate to the strip of skin revealed by the lift of his shirt.
He makes his way to Shigaraki’s room, “You seriously need to buy a portable heater or somethin’. Think that psycho doctor can lend us a few bucks?”
“Doubt it.”
Dabi gets to the bed, flips covers, and heats up the area with his careful hands, “Alright, here ya go, Handyman, nice 'n toasty.”
He turns around and starts to walk out the bedroom door when a small tug around his waist constricts his movement. His brows draw together in confusion, and he looks down and follows the pattern of bunched clothing until he spots two blue-ish fingers trapping the hem of his shirt.
“I…” Shigaraki looks at where his fingers clutch at Dabi’s shirt before averting his eyes to the window, “There’s a blizzard outside, the bed is going to get cold quickly again. How... long will you be here?” He’s looking everywhere but at Dabi.
Dabi deadpans, “Look, I’m tired as hell, you better not wake me up and use that creepy doctor’s slime quirk on me just to heat your bed again. I’m not a housekeepe — ”
“ — you could just stay.”
Dabi gapes, “Uh…”
“I mean,” Shigaraki grumbles, seemingly irritated, but Dabi can see blood flow to his cheeks, “Your body radiates heat naturally when you sleep — ”
“ — how do you kno — ”
“ — so if you just sleep here, the bed will always stay warm.”
Dabi’s about to say ‘no’ because he’s noticed the strange ways his boss has been looking at him lately, red eyes lingering a bit too long on stapled skin, widening a bit too much at blue fire.
But he catches the heavy bags under those same red eyes, and he lets out a deep, resigned sigh, “Fine. Gods, this is the one time I’m actually glad you snatched the only queen mattress in this place,” — even though Dabi rarely ever spends the night at the League’s hideouts. Too much paranoia for infection.
He slides under the already folded back duvet and makes himself comfortable, turning on his side so he faces the window and closes his eyes to the wild blurs snow. He can hear as Shigaraki shuffles around to probably put on his partial-finger gloves and the way his boss sighs deeply at the warmth of the sheets when he settles in.
Before Dabi falls asleep, he hears a soft, “Thank you.”
When Dabi wakes up, it's to the sun’s bright reflection off the fallen white snow and Shigaraki’s arm curled around his waist, soft puffs of air gently ruffling the hair at the back of his head.
‘Oh my Gods.’
Dabi can’t even get mad, really, he set himself up for this one.
He heats up a pillow, wiggles out of his boss’s embrace, and shoves the pillow in his place, watching as Shigaraki mumbles a bit before snuggling into the pillow like a child.
‘He’s just a kid,’ Dabi can’t help think, for a moment.
He quietly walks out of Shigaraki’s room, closes the door with a quiet ‘click’, and, unfortunately, bumps right into Toga.
Toga’s eyes widen as Dabi silently wishes to incinerate himself, “Whaaa....” and then smiles deviously, “Dabi, have you and Shiggy — ”
“No, you psycho, for fuck's sake,” Dabi quickly shuts the girl down, “Boss has no damn circulation. He was fuckin’... cold. Fuck off.”
To his surprise, Toga actually backs off with a hum and a tilt of her head, “Hm. Well, I guess that’s good. You like your mysterious recruit, anyways, huh?”
Dabi mushes a hand in her face, “Shut up, you watch too many damn movies…” ]
“Tch, that little sneak acted so innocent,” Touya purses his lips before a lightbulb goes off in his head, and he whips his head to look back at Keigo, “So that’s why you got us personal heaters for Christmas.”
Keigo’s cheeks blush, “I, uh, also got Shiggy the fleece pajamas.”
“Gods, you mama bird.”
Keigo splutters at that, open palms frantically indicating towards Touya, “Says the literal mama bird.”
“Shut up,” Touya feels embarrassed, thinking of all the things Keigo pointed out that Touya has always chosen to selectively forget. Acknowledging himself as anything close to human makes him sick, makes his head spin up and tangle itself within the greyed ethics he’s managed to hang onto in this new body.
However, he’s not so sure he can compartmentalize pieces of himself like this anymore, not after Keigo, not after Natsou and Shouto and the way he’s lived this past month.
He changes the subject, seeing an opportunity to ask something he’s been avoiding for a while, “I’m wondering — did you do it out of concern or to keep him away from me?”
“A little bit of both, to be honest. Maybe, like. Forty-sixty.”
Touya’s a bit silent, after that. He thinks of what he really wants to say, what he needs Keigo to understand.
“Look,” He starts, “I don’t ever wanna be owned. Feel like — property. And you... I dunno if it's a bird thing or what but, you…” Touya looks Keigo in the eye, feeling so, so vulnerable, “You look like you wanna keep me. And that really freaks me out.”
Keigo sighs dejectedly, “Yeah, I noticed you were different with me after I pointed out Shigaraki’s… interest. Felt like you didn’t wanna be alone with me, and on Christmas… I wanted to kick myself after the mistletoe thing.”
“I didn’t mind that. Christmas was — good,” Touya flushes slightly, before mentally shaking himself back to the real point of this conversation and muttering, “Patching my hip back up wasn’t.”
“Fuck,” Keigo whispers, starting to shake his head in something that looks like shame, “I’m so fucking sorry. My raptor instincts got the best of me, but that’s no excuse.”
“Can you control it? Your… instincts?” Touya feels a bit like a dickhead for asking. He was there during the times Spinner and Keigo confessed to being stereotyped as things akin to beasts among non-heteromorphic people, but when Touya hears words like, ‘instinct,’ he needs to be cautious.
“Yes,” Keigo says desperately, “I’m new to all this but, you gotta know, I don’t wanna own you, Dabi. I’d never put you in a cage. I was just jealous, but I had no right. Still don’t, especially now.”
Touya takes the plunge, his heart racing a mile a minute, “Do you want it? The right?”
Keigo smiles, ever-so-kindly, and Touya feels a warm hand wrap around one of his ankles, his thumb stroking the bridge where healthy flesh still lives, “No one can have rights to you, love. I just want you, in any way you’ll let me.”
Touya’s heart soars.
He moves, crawling close to Keigo before fumbling into the hero’s lap, both men careful and slow around his fresh wrappings. Keigo’s hands fall to the dip of his back and the meat of his thigh, Touya’s cradling the hero’s strong jawline as if it were made of hand-blown glass, precious and one-of-a-kind.
“I want the same,” He avows on pink lips.
Pink lips that slide into a beautiful smile, “I’m yours, Dabs.”
“Touya,” He corrects, sliding a hand around to tangle his fingers in blond hair, “I want you to call me Touya, when we’re like this.”
Pink lips that round out, “Touya,” against his own.
His whole body shudders.
Pink lips that fervently surge up to claim his own.
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