After that whole. . . ordeal back at Layla's office, you were once again left home alone after breezing through another day of work. You no doubted that your employees were starting to get worried, having locked yourself up in your office the entire day and your reassurances being half-assed.

     If you were in their position, you'd be concerned too.

     You sighed, running a hand down your face as you stood in front of your bathroom mirror. Moaning about life like this wasn't exactly a good outlet for stress, but it helped enough for you to let your thoughts exhaust themselves out.

     The only reason you tried to avoid people that day was because of the chemist's comment, saying something about the dormant drug inside needing an outside source to activate. So if you avoided anything that might've been outside, you'd have a better chance of staying safe, right? I mean, you didn't exactly know what was going to trigger it, so the rational part of your brain told you to avoid any, and everything that made you uneasy.

     Which wasn't exactly ideal in a work environment that you more or else run, but the day had gone by already and there was no point dwelling on that.

     Minutes ago that evening you walked into the bathroom with all the intentions of a good bath, thinking that it might be good, temporary solution to let your mind relax. But right now you were caught up just staring at the mirror with a dazed look, the scars that littered the upper part of your body staring back at you in full clarity. The slash from the waffle house alley, the ones from the warehouse—it all glistened in their various stages of healing, some a lot more red than the others as you feared even just looking down. Afraid that you were going to see even more of the damage.

     You huffed, kicking away the bandages that fell to the floor before walking over to the sizeable tub. You were already having a bad enough day, and you weren't going to let a small inconvenience like this make it worse.

     Some of the cuts that opened stung a little when you dipped yourself into the water, hissing quietly to yourself before settling in a painfully slow pace. Jirou was once again off at a rehearsal—explaining that they had a show coming up and after one mess of a practice, they had to redo it and she felt that she needed extra time today—not doubting that she'll be home late once again.

     The empty apartment was lonely, but calming at least. You were starting to sense that this is how Sir Hamilton felt each day.

     "How do you do it?" You ask the cat, meowing in boredom as he sat on the bathroom floor. You didn't even notice that he followed you inside, just left there grooming himself as his own form of self-care. "You don't seem to have any stress," He purrs, "Lucky you, sir Hamilton." You sighed deeply, moving back as the once pristine water gets disturbed, "Lucky you."

     Dabi had been sitting quietly outside by the balcony for the better part of a few minutes, who had witnessed you talking to yourself before disappearing into the bathroom looking severely depressed.

     He didn't exactly know how to cut in naturally—how to casually drop by saying 'Hey yeah I've been here since earlier' and strike up a conversation with you that was totally unrelated. It was ironic, he knew that, because he always seem to appear out of nowhere to talk about random things with ease. But this? This was, ironically, a situation he didn't know how to handle. It bugged him, and the cigarette in his hand didn't seem quite as enjoyable as it could have been.

     He takes another inhale, watching with a calculated and experienced look as the smoke easily disperses into the cold night air. He could've sworn that snow would fall today, the dark clouds rolling overhead making him sigh quietly. The phoenix didn't know why he felt sad today, that emotion hardly ever something he acknowledged that he felt sometime. It was almost either the rare occasions of happiness, anger, or just pure lust. It was a weird and wild range of emotions, yes, he knew that, and he never considered sadness to be a part of that.

     But it seems that his little epiphany solved his problem of wanting to kill some time and break the ice with you, jolting in surprise upon feeling a weight sit beside him on the couch out in the balcony.

     "Oh? Thought you were taking a bath," He chuckled, suddenly very aware of how close you were and how much he suddenly wanted to get rid of the small stick of cancer held loosely in-between his fingers. "I finished, then smelled your awful choice of a past time." You gestured to the cigarette with a vague frown, your body hugged by a large sweater and draped with a fluffy blanket. It was cute, he admitted. 

     Literally. Out loud. This man has no shame.

     "Stop that," He tells you, earning a raised brow as you leaned back on the cushioned seats, "Hmm?" Dabi plays off the way his arm suddenly appeared behind you with a yawn, tilting his head towards you as he drops the stick and stomps out the light easily enough, "Being adorable."

     . . .

     "Shut up." He only laughs as his face gets—playfully—pushed away by your hands that were still unnaturally freezing.

     He visibly frowns, suddenly sitting up, "Your hands are still cold." You scoff, "You're one to talk."

     "No I'm serious," You watch with a raised brow once again, letting him take your hand as he holds it with furrowed brows, "Your body temp's all fucked up," He mumbles, more to himself than you as another reaches over to lay it on your forehead. "What the—Dabi, seriously, I'm fine." Huffing, he sits up a lot more properly, turning his whole body towards you as he holds both of your hands close, an. . . you wouldn't exactly say a failed attempt, but an attempt. "Your whole body's been cold since last night, this isn't fine."

     It didn't take much of a genius to figure out he had been talking about what had happened with the drug, letting out a breath as you released his hold and leaned on the couch, now sideways and also facing him. "Dabi, it's fine. I already talked to that scientist girl I told you about." You physically cringed when you saw a fleck of hope flashing in his blue eyes, quickly thinking of a way to let him down slowly without completely crushing his dreams, "It's not good news." 

     . . .

     Not like that, you gumby. 

     "What?" You watched. . . basically everything drain from his face as you could've sworn you heard his heart drop to his ass, his mouth in a tight frown as you punched yourself inwardly, "No because I mean. . . like. . ." You look up, seeing his eyes staring intently at you as though whatever you said next could make or break your relationship. Groaning, you tried to shoo away his face with as much humor as you could, looking off to gaze at the New York skyline as an excuse to look away, "Fuck off, don't do that face, you're making me nervous. I'm fine, she said I was fine. It wasn't good news, but it wasn't. . ." You shrugged, in deep contemplation, "But it wasn't. . . horrible, news, either. it was just. . . news. I'll be fine, as long as I try and avoid. . . basically everything at this point. I'm actually referencing all the sci-fi movies I might have watched over the years, and—rationally—concluded that, as long as I don't feel any intense emotions, it shouldn't be too bad."

     What awaited you was a stunned silence, Dabi getting lost somewhere halfway as you sigh upon realizing you wouldn't be getting any answers in other ways. "She said that the drug is laying dormant until something comes along and activates it. We aren't sure what it is but to be safe, I'm gonna try and avoid any form of strong emotions." You finally decide to actually look back at him. He was slowly nodding to himself, looking down on the cushions of what little space remained between the two of you as though it were the most interesting thing he's ever seen in his life, "Okay so. . . no intense emotions?" You nodded, a little annoyed thinking that he wasn't actually listening to you but deciding not to voice that any further, "Yes. No strong emotions. It's not official, and it's probably not the case, but it's wishful thinking and it's good enough for my anxiety." 

     Ah, this dance. You knew this dance. You've done it away too many times.

     His foxlike laughter, his quick movements, and before you knew it, you were back seated on his lap like a never ending déjà vu. 

     "Does that mean I can't do this?" He teases, grabbing the blanket you held onto tightly and sliding it up your shoulders for you, "You always get flustered when I do this, y'know." That earned him a rightful slap on the arm, still grinning in victory as he lets out a groan while leaning back. "Don't make this weird," You rolled your eyes, pulling more of the soft cloth around you as cold air nipped your exposed skin. However little it might've been, it bit you. "And yes, asshole, if you knew that it'd make me feel that way and with the risks of the unknown why'd you still do it?"

     "Because I want to." He answers with a shrug as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, tracing circles on your sweatpants with his thumb. "Plus, I like having you close. It's cold, you know." You rolled your eyes again, subconsciously moving yourself closer as though you were suddenly the heating system of this relationship. "My, I thought my body temp's been fucked up since yesterday."

     "You're getting warmer," He whispers suddenly a little too lowly, yelping quietly as he pulls you forward; his face nearing yours, "Especially when I do this, hmm?" His hot breath fanned across your face, your throat struggling to swallow a small lump as you laughed awkwardly. "I know this is supposed to turn me on or whatever, but your cigarette breath genuinely stinks."

     . . .

     A pause, and then a look of surprise, before absolutely dying with laughter.

     "Oh my God," He honestly looked like a hyena when he tilted his head back like that, "Wow, way to ruin the mood, babe."

     "I'm just saying, you should brush your teeth before you try and flirt-talk with me, that's all!" He still continues laughing, his guffaws carrying out into the night and definitely pissing off some neighbors in the process. "Flirt talk? Is that what we call it now?"

     "You talk to me with flirtatious undertones—it's flirt-talk!" You ended up pouting as you slumped, which was a mistake because you ended up falling straight forward and settling your face on the crook of his neck, but it was too late now, he was already holding you there while he ran fingers through your hair.

     The silence that followed after had an obvious stark contrast to the previously loud actions just moments ago, a small smile regretfully settling on your face. No way you were going to tell Dabi that he helped relieve your anxiety over the whole 'pink drug thingamabob'. Generally because you knew that would inflate his ego beyond relief, but that also meant you had to be real with your feelings which you deemed, by all means of the word, unnecessary. 

     "So," He whispers, his lips murmuring straight into your roots as one finger twirls a strand, "Anything else I need to know about the chemist's visit today?" You hummed back, adjusting yourself to let you move your head up and be able actually talk in a way that didn't smother you fully against him. "That the doctors that scanned me before I visited her were incompetent, and that I'm going to have to completely trust Layla with reverse engineering a cure? Those sound important enough." He snickers, poking your sides to prove a point, "Be more specific, angel face."

     "Angel face?" You laughed, almost scoffing, as you leaned back to stare at him with an amused look, "That's a new one." He grins lazily, sneakily landing a peck on your lips and moving away just as quickly before you could protest against it, "Just thought I should change it up a bit." You scoffed again, "Why? Like no, seriously, why? Got bored of sweet-cheeks and dollface and. . ." You shrugged, a laugh bubbling behind your lips. "Princess, or something I don't know. Not good enough anymore, sir pet-names?"

     "Don't change the subject," He rolls his eyes, squeezing your thigh as though it were his way of punishment, "C'mon, what did this chemist say that was so bad you don't want to tell me about it?"

     "Nothing it's. . ." You sigh, "It wasn't much of what she said more is it of what she insinuated. She can't work much on the drug without some extra notes or docs about it, my guess being that she's missing a few key elements of how it was created and preventing her from fully understand—I'm getting off-track, you know what I mean!" He slowly nods again, his tongue hovering over his bottom lip as his way of thinking, "So you want to find where these documents are?"

     Now it was your turn to nod, earning an amused chuckle. "Why? No offense babe, but the only reasonable and realistic way you'd ever get that is if you broke into a lab or some. . ." He trails off as he sees the slowly growing look of thought on your face, shaking his head as if to stop that from growing like a tumor, "Y/N, princess, sweet-cheeks, the most beautiful woman in all of New York, you better not be taking what I'm saying literally."

     "But it could work!"

     "But you could die," He counters with a sigh, mumbling something along the lines of finally understanding what Kurogiri felt on a daily basis, regretting that he ever suggested that but also—mostly—wondering what happened to the sensible woman he'd made out with on various similar nights like this one, "Hell, I'm reckless too but that is just pure stupidity."

     "But Dabi this is desperate," You pleaded, already knowing that you were going to do it anyway, even without his approval that, quite frankly, you didn't even know why you were seeking. "For all we know i could by dying right now! We know nothing of this thing and what it does and how it does it so we need those documents!" He, of course, unsurprisingly still looks unconvinced. For a man who burnt down an entire building in the span of a night, you weren't exactly sure if you were even still facing the same phoenix. "Come on, isn't there a way I could convince you or something?"

     He shakes his head no, grumbling as you once again slump forward to sulk in the comforts of his shoulder, "You're mean. Like what, you have other, better ideas? Because by all means I'm open-minded, good sir!" You sarcastically call out in a mocking tone, earning a scoff in return. "Never said I did. But I'm sure that whatever it is, it's definitely gonna be better than breaking into a highly secured building with armed guards." The way he emphasized his last sentence made you cringe; not at him but at yourself, realizing how bad it sounded being put like that but not enough for you to change your stance on it. Maybe you were just tired, and your brain was running out of Rational-Thinking Juice in the cold, dead hours of the night, but the idea of sneaking inside whatever laboratory this thing might be getting made in and getting the files yourself sounded like a good enough idea for you to already be taking mental notes of asking Freddie for help.

     Dabi might say no, but it would have to be a cold day in hell for the young, spontaneous, and reckless Freddie to ignore your offer.

     "Why don't we sleep on this first, and see if your brain still thinks the same way tomorrow?" He offers as a way to satisfy the both of you, once again adjusting the blanket over both of your forms before it could slip off. "We can both get rest, and maybe tomorrow you can give me back my Y/N that actually thinked like a rational person." You scoffed, looking up and glaring at his chin as though that would somehow do something, "Thought. Also poor you, I tricked you into thinking I was ever actually a rational person, so sorry." Dabi rolls his eyes, looking down to meet your gaze and sliding a finger beneath your chin to face him fully, "Aw man, if we're gonna make out again, I feel like now would be the right time to complain about your cigarette breath."

     His laughter resounds throughout your entire body pretty much, echoing off in vibrations as he playfully, dramatically sighs. "Ouch, and here I thought you actually loved me."

     "I probably will, but still, your breath still stinks." He groans, trying not to internalize that comment as he stands up with you still in his hold. "Whatever, it's cold, we're going inside." Before you could make another smart ass comment about. . . basically whatever, his mismatched lips got to work on your neck, quietly releasing a breath as he slips back inside your apartment. "Seriously?"

     "You never said I couldn't do this," He hums into your skin, a small but daring bite getting replaced immediately with a lasting kiss. "Come on, man, don't." He chuckles, landing on the couch as you ended up bouncing when he did. Which was quite frankly awkward, what with all the sexual tension that was already there. "'Man' me all you want, I still know what your tongue tastes like."

     "Dabi!"

     More muffled laughter, soon followed by your desperate attempts at keeping quiet. He was. . . a lot more bold today, biting harshly before following it with a rough kiss. You couldn't exactly complain, but you couldn't deny the way your heart raced at. . . whatever direction this was going to take.

     In the end you let it happen, your view of the kitchen getting distracted each time his teeth made contact with your collar or when the noises he ended up making got a little too loud. It was all fine and well really, gladly watching the clock displayed as it went to strike about half an hour until one. It was all fine until you failed to catch and predict the sounds of the front door clicking open, a panicked shriek resounding as your roommate quickly tries to step back outside.

     "Jirou!" You exclaimed, quickly trying to shove Dabi out of view. And it would've worked had you not been straddling his hips, but even if you did, the damage had been done and Jirou stood there in stunned trauma.

note ; ha SIKE you thought