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The familiar crack that spidered across the mirror told Dabi he was in his bathroom, the one in his crummy apartment, not the paranormal liberation base. If he was pressed for details he wouldn't be able to say how he got there, or why he had his medical stapler in his hand.
His eyes followed the old cracks as his mind swirled about trying to remember what he was doing, trying to think of why he needed to remember something like that.
The cottony feeling in his brain made him vaguely aware that something wasn't right, but it also made it hard to remember if that was important. The buzzing was distracting, from the old light struggling to properly use the electricity running to it? Or was it his ears ringing?
He wondered how many staples were left in the gun.
Opening it revealed that it was full. He let a dirty finger trail across the little pieces of metal. He didn’t normally restock the gun until he planned to use it. Had Keigo been digging in his things again?
His eyes focused on the dark sticky stuff under his fingernails and he put the gun down to try to pick it out. It was uncomfortable. Dabi drug a fingernail across the skin on one of his other fingers. He watched the red bits flake off, noticed how the pale skin became even paler before the blood flowed back, returning the color of his skin back to normal. He did it a few more times even though the sticky stuff had already been scratched away.
He looked up at the mirror and his eyes zeroed in on the spider web crack. He was in his bathroom. His hands reached out to touch the old cracks and the sharp pain in his shoulder halted him. He could see in the mirror that the larger scar that circled his shoulder was torn loose. He should get his staple gun and fix that.
Abandoning the crack, Dabi opened the drawer that kept his gun and extra staples in it. The gun wasn't in there which was strange. Did Keigo mess with his stuff again? Luckily, after a quick glance around he found it on the sink; maybe he’d forgotten to put it back last time. That was unusual for him, but it's happened. He dug out the extra staples and opened the gun to refill it. That was odd, it was already full-
The door suddenly slammed open, causing him to jump. He could tell Keigo was snapping at him about something. Something about forever and someone being dead. Had he killed someone? No, Keigo was saying he thought Dabi was dead. He didn't feel dead. He needed to clear out his ear. It felt like there was cotton in it, but the sharp pain in his shoulder stopped him.
Keigo’s nails were too sharp, Dabi knew; he’d told him to cut them several times. They drug across his legs, leaving bright pink trails behind, and they caught on the staples of the scar that wrapped around his thigh. It hurt, but not in a way he disliked. Fingers tangled into the soft blanket Keigo had insisted he keep on his bed because the one he had been using had apparently been made out of what Keigo called cheap fiberglass. Dabi was sure the tag had said polyester. When had he moved to the bed? Keigo's hands didn’t stop when his nail caught on one of Dabi’s staples and he could feel the skin pull. His other hand was rubbing at Dabi’s nipple and he pressed back harder against Keigo’s chest when the piercing there was twisted too roughly.
Keigo didn’t respond to his jolt of pain, he never seemed to have issues with tearing him further apart than he already was. Not that Dabi minded because he was always careful to put him back together before morning.
While hands were wandering, Dabi felt Keigo’s hot mouth working at his throat. It was more teeth than anything else. Momentarily, his attention jumped to the sharp pain where his skin ripped at the thigh staple being pulled too far but was brought back quickly when those sharp teeth bit harshly into his shoulder. Keigo was being rough.
There always seemed to be two different Keigos. There was the soft caring dove who liked fluffy blankets and watching stupid movies. The one who put him back together. Then there was this other side which was more predator. The hawk. Who tore into flesh and raw meat any chance it got; the ruthless killer that the public never got to see. This version had no qualms of tearing Dabi apart.
Dabi was certain if Keigo could have his way he would consume Dabi completely.
It felt like the hand on Dabi’s thigh moved to the next staple and tore it apart too. The whine in his chest was made against his will but kept his lips pressed tightly together to keep it in. Keigo’s teeth released his neck and the mixture of blood and spit roll down his collarbone as Keigo worked his way up to his ear.
The way he was seated on Keigo's lap let him spread Dabi’s knees with his own, opening Dabi up. His head lolled to the side as Keigo bit and sucked at his earlobe. It felt like sharp nails were digging into the seam on his leg, as if encouraging the blood to flow. Dabi didn’t mind bleeding, with how his skin was so fucked up it was just part of his life. It matched up nicely with Keigo’s animalistic draw to blood. Still, it stung as Keigo dug around in his thigh, toying with the sticky blood.
The smell of iron sharpened and Dabi started lifting his head off Keigo’s shoulder to investigate why, when bloody fingers were pushed past his lips and the tang filled his mouth as Keigo roughly rubbed two of his digits across Dabi’s tongue. Instinct told him to protest, but experience let him relax his jaw, his saliva pooled so Keigo would have a faster time coating them. Keigo purred in his ear. He wasn’t sure what was being said, but the tone told him he was doing what Keigo wanted.
The hand that had been exploring his torso was now rubbing aggressively at the skin behind his balls and the feeling was so intense Dabi’s body tried to get away, and his whines were making it up into his mouth. Keigo’s fingers were shoved further into the back of his throat, keeping him from forming any real words of protest.
“You sound so pretty,” Keigo cooed.
Dabi huffed around the fingers a few times, trying to adjust to Keigo’s ruthless assault on the sensitive skin. Keigo made no move to let up or remove his fingers from his mouth. His thumb had actually hooked on the staple holding his cheek together. The more he struggled the more his cheek pulled. He tried to not do it, tried to stay as still as he could but, eventually, it was ripped out as well.
Was his shoulder still torn up or had he stapled that before coming to the bed?
The taste of blood filled his mouth and Keigo started rubbing his fingers back and forth again.
“Swallow it,” Keigo ordered.
Dabi didn’t know what he was swallowing but he did what Keigo wanted. Swallowing around the fingers he tried to get an airtight seal, but the hole in his cheek made a sickening noise as he pulled air through sinew. He might have been embarrassed if Keigo hadn’t made such a lewd moan in response.
The fingers finally slid out of Dabi’s mouth and were wiped off carelessly across his cheek. The thin layer of fluid dried quickly and pulled at his healthy skin lightly, Keigo cooed again, sounding satisfied with something.
Words were murmured against his pulse and Dabi is pretty sure he hears the word pretty again.
He’d never admit to it but he liked it when Keigo called him that. Even though it should, it never felt like a lie coming from him.
The shadows that danced across the ceiling mesmerized Dabi. He was just rocking back and forth as if he was on a boat at sea, at least that’s what he imagines it would feel like. He's never been on a boat. It would probably make him sick, this kind of rocking made his gut turn too, but not the same way. Maybe it wasn’t like a boat.
Flashes of red and gold above him that occasionally blocked the shadows told him Keigo was still there, the touches blurred in Dabi’s brain but every now and then they were sharp, bringing the world back to focus.
During those times the iron smell of his own blood made him drunk, distantly he wondered how much was still left in his body. Then he wondered if Hawks would still want to eat him if he had been bled dry first. He always complained when the meat wasn’t bloody enough. Dabi hoped it would be enough.
“Touya.”
The harsh whisper brought him back to focus and those bright golden eyes were starring down at him. They were sharp in a way that pierced Dabi straight through. They looked hungry.
“....pretty thoughts to yourself… ….looks so pretty like this… ...talk to me, baby.” The words floated away before Dabi could absorb them.
Hawks head dipped out of sight and Dabi feels the flesh tear at his neck. He hissed and reflexively his nails pierced into the familiar softness he was gripping.
“Eat me all up,” Dabi wished aloud softly.
The giggle was deep and vibrated through his jugular that was at Hawks’s lips. “Eat you?” The mouth asked against his skin.
“Yeah,” Dabi said turning his face into the silk, giving Hawks full access to his throat, “Until there’s nothing left.”