"I'm surprised that you're asking me out now, dollface," Dabi had joked upon arriving at your office from his less-than-legal route. "Although, kind of makes me wonder what we'd be doing in your house in a date."
You stood in front of your corkboard, a pin that had a yarn connecting to the rest of the mess on it safely in the pinches of your thumb and index. You'd been doing a lot of thinking for the past few hours, and oh boy would you be lying if you said it didn't give you a headache. "Not a date sadly. . ." You had mumbled nonchalantly, moving to put it on the picture of Taro you had printed out for the sake of all this. It was hard, what with all the other pins you already had stabbed into the still image of his charmingly boyish smile. A smile you wanted to punch off.
Your phone buzzed in the confines of your pocket, perhaps another message from Momo in your current, ongoing back-and-forth. She had told you she would be out of the hospital by tomorrow, and that hopefully by then she'd be able to escape and go out for lunch as usual. But of course you both had doubts, seeing as how much work she had missed and you no doubted that her rodeo clown of a staff would force her right into her hectic schedule, fresh out of the hospital, bandages and all.
"So you invited me here just to watch you do your homework?" He commented, the slightest hint of disappointment in his voice as he leans back on your desk, eyes scanning over one of the printed photos you had gotten from Freddie in boredom. When and how? You had no idea. "Pretty much, yeah," You had said without thought once again, only slightly zoning back in when you felt cold hands grip on your waist shamelessly with no warning. "Ey—dude! Cold! Why are they cold?!"
What met you was laughter that reverberated through your own body, his chest pressed against you and chin proudly finding home on your shoulder. "Aw, and here I was getting excited."
"Inappropriate, good sir," You huffed, trying to pry them off of you before he gets stubborn and instead wraps his arms completely around, "You did this to yourself," He whispers a little too close to your ear, feeling that familiar rise of heat on your face. From embarrassment, being flustered, or anger? You couldn't say for sure, but you definitely felt something from the way his breath tickled the sides of your face and practically kissed your lobes with his mismatched pair of lips. "Dabi. . ."
Your warning—if you could even call it that—fell on deaf ears, getting dragged against your will towards your desk that still had countless papers and cut out documents sprawled across. "What? Princess, you call me over to your house at like nearing eleven, and you don't expect me to do anything about it?" You shot him a look, eyes squinted in anything but amusement as he easily spins you to face him. Now you were leaning on your desk, his arms by your sides and face daring to inch closer. "No."
"Not like that," He said it in such a tone that accused you of being the pervert, "Come on, I'm in a rush here," You placed your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away, but he ended up just using it as a challenge to try and move them up his neck. "I'm not." He grins lazily, moving forward to land his face just in the crook of your neck. "Dabi come on," You get ignored once again, your hands being moved to rest on the broad of his shoulders.
You sigh, finding solace in the fact that he at least stayed silent. It didn't change much from when he had entered your office, just you standing in silence as a million thoughts ran rampant in a stampede in your head. Only this time you had kisses getting peppered on your neck and jaw by a thirsty bird in a human body. "Say, you heard of the Todoroki's?" You decided that you might as well ask him about it, the image of the young boy with vibrant red hair and sharp blue eyes—an unmistakable comparison to the one's your 'partner' here held—stuck in your brain like a an annoying song.
A beat passes, his lips on pause, resting on your collar before moving up. "Yeah, word gets around. Why?" You hummed an 'I don't know', not exactly knowing how to tell him about your conspiracy theories of him secretly being a Todoroki. "I spoke to one of them yesterday," You contemplated your wording, unknowingly messing with his collar in the process, "He seems cool. Know him?"
"Him?" Dabi seems to linger on that word, one of his hands sliding just below your waistline and to your hip, "Hey hey, watch it, they're still cold," He either doesn't listen or just chooses to ignore you, back on his merry way to lining up all the way to the sides of your face. "Should I be worried of anything?" You snorted, remembering how Jirou had also accused you of that last night. "Aw, sounds like jealousy to me—ow!" He ended up landing a bite on your neck, his way of apology just another half-assed kiss. "Dude! I can't be spending my next mornings covering that!"
"Your problem. . ." He quietly chuckles, feeling bold enough to grab the bottom side of your hip and hoisting you up onto your desk with ease. The papers on them long forgotten and crushed as you so gracefully landed on them. "But no, I'm not sure which one you're talking about."
"Red, white hair, split in the middle. Dude's pretty hard to miss looking like a walking candy cane," You laugh at your own feeble attempt at a joke, earning only a chuckle, which inadvertently made you groan. "At least pretend that I'm funny!"
"Alright, ha, ha, ha," You pull a face as if he could see it, much disappointed in his fake effort as he continues kissing with not a single care in the world. "That's the Shoto guy, right?" He hums a moment later, breaking away to lean back and stare at your face with a look you couldn't name. "I've heard some stories, I guess. Why? He said something interesting?" You shrug, leaning back with your leg swinging thoughtlessly, bumping into his own every so often, "Yeah. Turns out his brother ran away when he was a kid. And he's apparently hoping that he'd 'accidentally' bump into him here in Manhattan," You shrug once again, before this time leaning forward and letting your arms rest around his neck, but this time willingly. "I don't know, just sounded pretty sad to me."
He looks dazed and zoned out as he lets you mess around with his hair, hands still entrapping you beneath him as his breath spreads on your face. You thought nothing of it, just rubbing circles into his scalp and brushing your fingers through his surprisingly soft hair. Goddamn, sign you up! What the hell was this man's shampoo? You never even thought that he knew the concept of it!
But another moment passes and he's still quiet, staring right through you and his eyes looking glazed over. "Dabi?"
That seemed to have been enough of a wake up call, his cheeks tugging into a somewhat tight smile to reassure you. "Nothing." He lands another kiss on your cheek, before once again starting all over to trail down your collar and neck. "What'd you think of their dad?"
"He's an asshole, I can say that much," A part of you tugged at you ceaselessly, telling you to talk smack of one famed Enji Todoroki, even if it was just to Dabi's face. But even then it didn't seem like much of an attempt at kissing up to him as it was you saying for yourself that he wasn't that good of a man, much less a father, so you didn't feel all too-bad about your unwavering opinion. "Even Shoto hates him. God, what kind of father treats his own kids like his fucking workers? Hell, if that's how he treats them, how worse does he treats his actual workers?!"
"I can see that you don't like him," He laughs, but you could feel the underlying tone of venom and agreement in that. "Who knows, maybe he's got something to do with that brother of his running away."
. . .
You pause, a sudden look of realization and sadness crossing your face, hands settling from where you pet and played with his hair. He. . .
"Anyway, what's this thing for?" That change of subject was an obvious and conscious choice, pulling away from the unplanned embrace to look at what he had meant. "Is this a drug?" You look and see that it was the vial, held in his free hand as the other traced circles on your lower back. "Oh. Yeah, it kind of is, I guess."
. . .
"Wow," He laughs after a silent beat, his amusement and surprise quite evident, "Never thought you'd be the type." Your eyes widened, shaking your head aggressively as he cackles a little too loudly for midnight. "Dear God no! I would never!"
"I'm just kidding, I'm kidding!" His laughter eventually dies down, but he still had on a wide smile and overall teasing look, "But seriously, what is it? If it's not for personal use, I don't think you'd just have it lying around in your pockets." You looked at him incredulously, just a few inches away but enough of a personal space for both of you, "Okay, since when did you pick my pockets?"
"While I was feeling you up, I don't know," He makes a point by shamelessly slipping a finger under your shirt for the sole reason of landing his ice-cold fingers, yelping quietly as you glared at his cheeky look. "Okay fine, yeah, whatever, that. It's. . ." You thought of a way to explain it, not having much in terms of words, seeing as it had all went flying out the window when you first started camping out in your office to drive yourself mad. Which was a good few hours ago. "So when I got kidnapped, the dude who had the tentacle things tried to inject this shit into me. Then you guys came, and your friend swiped the bottle, I guess." He raises a brow as if to ask which friend, to which your responded with a shrug. "I don't know, the blonde calls him Shiggy. I think he took it? I'm not sure."
He holds back a laugh from your nonchalant mention of the nickname, clearing his throat as he goes to also lean back on the desk, hand resting behind you in support of his weight, "Why were they trying to put it into you?"
"Hell if I know, I'm just glad they didn't, or it really would've fucked me up in the human department." He wanted to laugh at that joke, to pretend that he knew what you meant and move on, but the more he thought about it the more he realized that he didn't. "What do you mean?" Dabi tried his best to mask it with humor more than curiosity, "What I mean is that if they had succeeded, I wouldn't still be human right now." He still held a look that asked you to elaborate, sighing as you swung an arm around his shoulders to pinch his cheek, "Be fucking glad that I like you."
"Am glah-d," He had said with a tiny laugh, his words not quite sounding the way they should be with your grip. "What I mean is, the scientist I talked to the other day told me that this thing is capable of transforming a human into. . ." You once again struggled to think of a word, referring to Dabi's species as just 'creatures' sounding a little too insensitive especially when he was right there. "Like us?" He asks, to which you nodded, "Yes, you, your words not mine. Anyway yeah, and then she said that she might be able to know more about how it might be made if she got more info about it."
He snorts, shaking his head slightly when his hair got to his face from when you ruffled it shamelessly once again, "She'd know how it was made because she'd see it for herself on the theoretical 'more info'. You sure this scientist if yours isn't a hack trying to hassle you?" You scoffed, deciding that deserved a light smack, "Rude. I'm sure that Professor Layla Blue is a perfectly capable and legit chemist destined for the life of greatness." He laughs even louder, turning his head to the side to face you, "You are adorable, you know that?"
"Fuck you." You glared at him to stop whatever sex joke he had brewing up in that brain of his, "Anyway, what's all this for?" He gestures to the corkboard you had attended to earlier, messy lines of red yarn all over the place with a box spilling over with pins on the ground below it. "Oh, nothing. Just. . . something to help me gather my thoughts." He grimaces, "Makes me wonder what ungathered thoughts would look like." You smacked him again, continuing with your explanation. "No matter how much I keep on trying to think has happened, fact of the matter is that we still don't know what his motives are."
Before you could go on another tangent about how Taro was so rich he wouldn't—and shouldn't—be feeling the need to do shit like this in perhaps search of money, you were once again left in the mercy of the phoenix standing and trapping you on the table. "Gee babe, as much as I love hearing your voice, you're just gonna talk yourself dry." You glared at him with all manners of being offended on your face, but ultimately knew that his words held truth. "Okay yeah sure, that might be true, but we still need to know why he'd be doing this," You sigh, not even noticing how he slowly got you leaning back and more towards the table until your hands found support in being held upright around his neck, "Do we though?"
You frowned, only earning his own shrug as he lands his lips just below yours, "No offense, dollface, but I don't think us knowing what he wants'll change anything. He's still gonna be finding ways to kill your friend, and he's probably coming after you now if that vial's anything to go by." You stayed silent, still contemplating how to prove him wrong before being cut short with him finally stopping his fooling around by actually kissing you. "Don't you think you're just stressing yourself out over something that doesn't matter?"
His lips hardly left your own as he talked, mumbling words into your mouth that you would've deemed incoherent had it not been for your senses on high alert. "But Dabi. . ." You almost whined, gagging inwardly at that as you played whatever game you got yourself into, "It's better to know for argument's sake," another kiss, "I'd know why he's doing it, I get more proof," and then another, "I expose him for the bullshit that he is and he gets kicked off whatever platform he holds."
He stops just about half an inch from your mouth, lips touching but not enough to call it a kiss, "So you're planning on throwing him to the cops?" His voice was breathy by the time he asked, both hands still on the table to keep you where you sat, nodding in response. "No matter how much money he's gonna use to rig the trial, I'm gonna use fact and logic to fuck him up." He ends up laughing at your vulgar choice of words, closing the gap for a mere sweet reminder of what your lips tasted like before he'd forget and pulling away just as quickly, "Alright, say I believe this reasoning of yours—what and why do you think he's doing what it is he's trying to do?"
"There could've been a much easier way to say that," You laughed, landing your own kiss that lasted just a little bit longer than the last, "Well for starters, money's out of the picture here. Because even if he got cut off or kicked out from an allowance, I doubt that it'd make much of a difference from how much his company already makes." He shrugs in a 'fair enough' gesture, getting another taste before you could continue, "More to think of would be how Momo's involved in this entire thing."
He shrugs. "He hates her, I guess."
"Yes but why?? Unless he's clinically insane or anything of the sorts, I don't think he would be paying assassins or vigilante mercenary, whatever the hell you guys are, to go kill her just because of that. He's gotta have a motive, dammit!" You shook your fist like an old man, earning a passing sound of laughter before being shut up by another round. But this one was a lot more daring than any of tonight, his tongue easily slipping in to make himself feel just as home as it would do in his own mouth.
You two kept at for a while, your hand on his face as the other gripped on his hair for dear life. A muffled moan, sloppy sounds of making out, the ruffling of clothes as you two greedily got to doing what you wanted to the other—it echoed and bounced throughout the office, your face heating up from how sinful you felt just being in his hold. Curses, no! You were supposed to be going over evidence and forming hypotheses, not be thinking of doing anything more than what you were already doing!
"What's your thought on kids? Hate 'em, but you might wanna start thinking on who's gonna take over your shop," You glared at his tasteless joke of calling you old, just that enough for you to pull away and narrow your eyes at him. "Aw, come on, I'm kidding. Kids are a nightmare anyways." You were about to make a retort on that, but stop as your mind got to thinking.
Heir. . . business. . . kids. . .
Your eyes widen, quickly grabbing your phone as you hurriedly typed. You didn't have time to read what Momo had sent earlier, a frantic, 'Who takes over the Yaoyorozu company when your parents retire? And who's older, you or Taro?' deeming itself much more important.
Dabi was raising a brow, a little ticked off from getting a perfectly good make-out session be cut short because of you texting someone.
Are you older than Taro?
Who takes over the company when your parents give up on it??
Taro is my older brother
Although, I am the named heiress.
Why? Did something happen?
Oh my God
You looked at Dabi with your hand shaking and eyes still just as wide. "That's it. . ." He raises a brow once again, "What's it?"
"Taro. . ." You swallowed a forming lump in your throat, various thoughts and obvious signs blaring louder than ever from your memories, "Taro's trying to take over the company."
note ; SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO GO UP LAST NIGHT, BUT MY WIFI DIPPED AND IT WAS LIKE 2AM LMFAO—SEE YALL NEXT CHAPTER