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“You’re kidding.” That goddamned freak was standing in front of him, blocking his view of the outside world. Tomura let out a low growl from his place in the passenger seat. Someone shifted slightly and a beam of light hit him straight in the eye, causing Tomura to flinch gently and come to even more unhappily.
“It would be better for the both of you to take a break for a while. You’ve both been driving for much too long.”
“Yeah! You don’t wanna end up like Tomura-chan!” That was definitely Toga, probably jumping up and down as she spoke in that annoying high pitch of hers. Would these people let him sleep, for god’s sakes-
Tomura fully came to with a groan, looking about as undead as he sounded. Blinking a few times, the forms of Dabi, Toga and Mr. Compress were visible through the open drivers-side door. He shifted, pushing away the… part of him faintly remembered being cold last night, Dabi had poked at him, and then-
“Hey, Mophead!” Dabi’s voice was shattering his thoughts as what Tomura had just realized was Dabi’s coat was ripped from his hands. “Let go of my damn coat, your gloves are off-” Tomura sneered after a moment.
“Good fucking riddance, that thing is ugly as fuck-” Looking down at his hands, he flexed his fingers. “And only one of them is off, you goddamn blind idiot.”
“Picking on me for that? Really? I mean, I knew you were petty, but-”
“Both of you, stop.” Kurogiri’s voice materialized with the man himself. Tomura hugged his arms closer to himself as he pretended to not be cold. “It’s still early, but people are already awake and you two are drawing more attention to us than necessary.”
“He started it,” Tomura quietly grumbled. Kurogiri sighed as Dabi shook his head incredulously. Toga giggled, swinging her arms a bit as Mr. Compress tilted his head in a way that might’ve been amused.
“That doesn’t matter.” Kurogiri’s voice was strained. “What matters right now is our current arrangements. It is too conspicuous for you two to continue driving at the moment, and we need to split up in order to achieve our target more efficiently.” Mr. Compress straightened as he nodded.
“Yes- Spinner and Magne are already out and getting more vehicles for us, and we’ve arranged a meeting place to be at in… let’s say, three days?” The rest of the group nodded and Tomura raised an eyebrow.
“And what does this have to do with this crispy fucker’s driving and me?”
Kurogiri heaved another heavy sigh.
“Dabi has been driving for an extended period of time as you rested, and he himself hasn’t slept for longer than healthy. In order to keep moving forward at an aggressive pace and for the safety of all of us, it’s been decided to pull you two back. You both are unfit for driving at the moment-”
“And are much too recognizable!” Mr. Compress piped up, seemingly sensing what Tomura was about to snap. “We’ve put everyone in groupings for the vehicles. You, Kurogiri, and Dabi are in one-”
“-I don’t care, why the hell am I in one with him?!” Tomura flung a hand out. Dabi frowned.
“Exactly what I’ve been asking.” Tomura gave him a fearsome scowl. Dabi just raised a brow, turning back to Kurogiri and Mr. Compress. Mister’s mask showed no emotion, but the glowing portion of Kurogiri’s eyes were twitching ever so slightly. It was clear he was suppressing his frustration. Tomura was too tired to care.
“Because, Shigaraki Tomura, as volatile as you two are together, you can work well together. Your powers are compatible, and if last night was any indication, you two are willing to listen to one another. Everyone else has been put into their groups for the good of this mission, and as have you.”
“Bu-”
“As have you. ENOUGH.” Kurogiri’s tone had darkened, and the entire group leaned away from him. Tomura felt his eyes go wide as he recognized the tone as one he’d often heard from his childhood. The tone of voice that meant “you will listen to me and you will do it now.” Almost immediately, he nodded.
“Okay.” He squeaked. Kurogiri glared at him for a moment more before nodding.
“Very good.” He cleared his throat. Dabi twitched. “Shigaraki, Dabi, there is a truck waiting not too far away. You are to get in the back and be silent until we need to switch. We will be taking shifts to drive.” Both Tomura and Dabi quickly nodded, Shigaraki quickly scrambling out of the car and following Dabi as he pushed himself out of the group. The pair walked to the vehicle in silence, neither one daring to look at the other and Tomura rubbing at his eyes groggily. He did not want to be awake right now and- how the hell was Dabi standing up straight right now, for fuck’s sakes, he’d been awake for for-fucking-ever and it was entirely unfair that he could stay awake when Tomura couldn’t. Unconsciously, he’d begun to glare at the taller man. Dabi rolled his shoulders a little, continuing to walk for another few meters before turning back around to look at Tomura.
“What?” He asked, point blank. Tomura blinked himself out of his haze to scowl at the other villain.
“What, ‘what’?” He shot back
“You’ve been burning a hole in my back for the past five minutes.” Dabi turned back forwards, tone apathetic as he continued to walk. “I was just wondering how I’d managed to piss you off this time.”
“Shut your goddamn mouth with that self-pitying bullshit, I have not.” Tomura pouted slightly. Dabi glanced backwards again and smirked. “Oh, what.”
“Nothing.” He turned back forwards again as Tomura growled.
“No, what is it.”
“Someone’s missing their nap, eh?” Dabi dodged the question again, and then attempted to dodge Tomura as he lunged for him. Dabi wrestled with him for a moment as Tomura made an attempt to rip off his remaining fabric glove to finally get rid of this annoying pile of shit-
“Boys.” A tense voice interrupted them, and Tomura immediately flew backwards off of Dabi. The taller man rubbed the scratches on his arms from where Tomura had gotten to him as Kurogiri handed Tomura a different pair of gloves. “Put these on and get in the car. Dabi, you in the back and get some rest, and Tomura, you in the passenger’s seat. I’ll drive, then Tomura, then Dabi if possible. Now, let’s go.” He strode off towards the vehicle through the trees and Tomura followed soon afterwards, shuffling his feet like a scolded child as he pulled on the special, Quirk-suppression gloves Kurogiri had given him. Behind him, he could hear Dabi’s footsteps follow after a second, breath puffing out in a dulled kind of shock. Tomura prevented himself from making some biting remark, instead focusing on the theoretically ram-rod straight line of Kurogiri’s non-physical back as he carried himself forwards with a practised sort of grace. Somewhere within him, that same curiosity he’d held as a child came back up. He never had discovered just where Kurogiri had appeared from, with the half-formed thought in his mind being that Kurogiri had just appeared out of nowhere one day without explanation, incorporeal and already in a perfectly-pressed suit. That wasn’t the case, definitely, but it wasn’t like there was any other explanation offered up for the man’s existence. So, Tomura stayed ignorant and wondering, theorizing quietly even as he climbed into the passenger's side of the cab. He could hear the back door of the truck slam shut, and then Kurogiri materialized into form in the driver’s seat. The engine started up with a purr and with that, the group was off.
Tomura had to admit, after the first few hours he almost wished he was back with Dabi. Kurogiri had raised him since he was young and although Tomura respected the man (dare he say, maybe even treasured him if he was willing to admit it), Kurogiri wasn’t always the best conversational partner. The two knew one another front and back- well, nearly, considering how infuriatingly secretive Kurogiri was about most things in his life. So, Tomura was definitively, painfully bored. He could sleep, stare out the window, and cycle though music and radio stations until Kurogiri pointedly cleared his throat one too many times and he was forced to turn it off. After that, Tomura was unfortunately left to his thoughts. Scowling, he huddled further into his sweatshirt and set his gaze out the window once more, letting his mind wander. It wasn’t anything special at first- the newest video games coming out, the landscapes around him, theorizing about the physics of Kurogiri and then wondering how on Earth the man must’ve discovered his Quirk- okay, that was a little too disturbing to dive into. Tomura shuddered a little. Ugh.
His mind took a second before rerouting itself to the issue at hand- the mission. He hadn’t quite briefed everyone on the objective, which made it easier to keep the plan mostly intact if someone was captured. All that they knew generally was that this was a data-collecting mission at the moment. Tomura would tell them more later, but there was definitely quite something riding on this mission. He bit his lip subconsciously. Despite how much he wanted to present himself as some sort of serious, well-prepared, calm-and-collected villain, he was scared. The loss of his teacher had shaken him, and while he knew he’d improved a lot since his first assault on UA, he was still just Shigaraki Tomura, bonded stupidly close to his team and way too worried to justify. He worried for them now, something he never thought he’d do. But he had to beat Spinner’s highscore on that one game, so he had to stay alive so Tomura could gloat. And Compress, while confusing and annoying at times, was entertaining with his stories and magic tricks. Twice was genuinely funny sometimes, and Toga had become something like a little sister to the group. Magne got to stay too, he supposed, and Dabi-
Well, he had some conflicting feelings on Dabi.
Dabi was probably the most infuriating person he’d ever met. He was obnoxious and idiotic, and seemed to make a game out of seeing how far he could push Tomura before he eventually snapped. He was frustratingly mysterious and smug and cocky, and wouldn’t even give his name to the League. Tomura still held the belief within him that the dude was too sketchy for his own good.
But, then again…
As infuriating as he was- and dear fuck was he ever annoying- Dabi had proved his use to the group. He knew how to control underlings, he was a key player in several successful missions they’d carried out, and- well, as much as Tomura hated to admit it, he wasn’t always that bad. Though he acted aloof, Tomura saw Dabi’s effects on the League. Kurogiri would always come out of conversations with the guy seeming lighter, maybe even happier than he was before. Toga seemed to view him as almost an older brother, and Magne shared an odd sort of connection with him. He was happy to sit with Compress and listen to the stories the man would tell, and he and Spinner seemed decently close with one another. As much as Tomura hated him, he couldn’t deny that he made the League around him happy, and if the League was happy, Tomura could be happy.
He blinked himself back to attention as the truck rounded a corner and Kurogiri cleared his throat. “Shigaraki Tomura.” Tomura uncurled himself from the ball he’d folded into, nodding promptingly. “We are approaching a more crowded section. Soon I will not be able to drive anymore.” Glancing back out the window, Tomura saw that more houses had started to appear around them. He grunted, shifting himself around more.
“Fine. Pull over, let me drive for a while.” Unbuckling his seatbelt, Tomura turned to crack his back a few times, trying to ignore how his mind immediately jumped back to the events of the night before. The feeling of the coat being draped over him sent warmth running up his arms, almost comfortingly, and the memories of the music and the feeling of Dabi’s body running hot triggered a feeling in Tomura that he despised with a passion. What was worse, though, was how the feeling only served to get worse when another faint memory came to mind- Tomura must’ve been half asleep when it happened, but he could remember a low voice singing along to a random song playing on the radio. It must’ve belonged to Dabi. there was no way it couldn’t have. And now Tomura’s heart was pounding for some stupid reason and he was getting light-headed and-
“-Stop the car here, I can take over.” He forced out. Kurogiri’s glowing eyes looked at him curiously, but did as he was told, maybe know his charge- boss?- well enough to know to listen to him when he was in this sort of state. A small blessing, Tomura supposed, and he was silently thankful for it as the truck finally came to a stop and he was able to slip out and walk around. By the time he’d slipped into the driver’s seat, Kurogiri was gone- probably to the back with Dabi, curse his head-spinning ass (and not in that way, thank you very much). Tomura tugged on the edges of his gloves to adjust them more comfortably, then backed the truck out of where it was parked and continued on down the road. It was a fairly straight path, and Kurogiri had given him a vague idea of the path they’d been driving and the route they were following, so it wasn’t like that was a concern. So, Tomura drove past houses that got bigger and bigger and then turned into condos and apartment buildings. By the time they’d finally shrunk back down and were once more so far and few that they gave the impression of an apocalyptic wasteland, Tomura was done. He drove for another 45 minutes before growling and pulling the vehicle over, jumping out and walking around to pound on the back door of the truck.
“Hey, asshole, your turn to drive!” Another few punches at the door before it finally opened, a very unimpressed Dabi on the other side. Tomura gave him a pointed look, stepping to the side and flourishing his arm sarcastically. Dabi sneered at him, jumping out of the back and striding over to the driver’s side to get going, and Tomura had to resist mocking him behind his back. He was too tired for this bullshit as a whole, though, so he forced himself to get into the back and slam the door behind him. Kurogiri’s glowing yellow eyes watched him passively in the dark and Tomura grumbled unhappily again as he settled himself down into a corner he’d felt out in the dark. Curling himself into a ball and yanking the hood of his sweater up and over his face, he finally closed his eyes.
His sleep was dark and dreamless.
Tomura was woken up by the sound of the door to the back opening once again. He groaned, barely even registering the small sigh that came out of whoever was coming in. There was a shuffling noise, the sound of the door closing, and then the back began vibrating once again as the truck began moving. Grunting, Tomura forced himself up, feeling his way around in the dark.
“Who the fuck is there?” He growled, receiving a grumble in return.
“Get your panties out of that twist, it’s just me.” Dabi’s voice drawled back. Even though the other man couldn’t see it, Tomura rolled his eyes dramatically. “Move your goddamn leg, I wanna fucking sit here too.” Dabi kicked his foot and Tomura scowled as he dragged his legs back and hugged his knees to his chest. A series of random thumping noises followed, ones that made Tomura genuinely concerned for the structural stability of the back of this godforsaken truck. They just… continued, without faltering, and Tomura eventually had to ask.
“What are you doing, anyways?” There was one last suspicious noise and the back swayed a bit from the force of it. Something jabbed into Tomura’s side and he immediately hissed, moving to disintegrate it. The object was snatched away just as quickly as it came and Tomura’s gloved hand only hit his own ribs.
“I was just getting comfortable,” Dabi responded nonchalantly, and Tomura swore that he was going to murder that man when he had the chance.
But not now, he figured as he yawned. After a little more sleep, then he would turn Dabi into a pile of ash and throw him to the wind-
But now, he was tired. He was so, so tired and he didn’t want to fight right now, and he was cold and exhausted and tired. So Tomura snarled at him with as much force as he could muster and curled himself back up into a ball, squirming around slightly to get himself back into a more comfortable position. His elbow bumped into Dabi’s side and the men both shifted, huffing and grumbling. Tomura twisted his body around, knees bumping into the other man’s, and he hissed again before moving to lie down and turn his back to Dabi. He could hear the other man sigh, imagining the eye roll that was paired with it. There was silence for a second and Tomura had almost let himself relax.
Then, there was a shift of fabric and something tapped Tomura’s side. He groaned.
“For fuck’s sakes, can you just leave me alone?!”
“Not my fault that my jacket hit your side.” Dabi responded, almost boredly. Tomura snarled.
“Look buddy, I’m cold and tired, and I’m not ready to deal with your bullshit right now- or ever, for that matter! So fuck off and let me sleep!”
“Well, I need some room too, and you fucking know that. What do you want me to do, sit out on the roof?”
“Yes, hopefully you’ll get blown off and run over!” Tomura pouted at the wall of the truck, not caring how he might’ve looked. Dabi heaved a heavy sigh, shifting over more. Something hit Tomura’s shoulder and he screeched. “DABI-”
“-Would you just SHUT UP!!” Dabi shrieked right back, and Tomura actually flinched. Being tired also came with being vulnerable, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it… a fight would only end with Tomura losing spectacularly. Hopefully, Dabi didn’t noticed. “Look, I’m not happy to be trapped in a fucking locked box with you either, but y’know what? We’re here now. We’re fucking here now, and I’m tired too, so how about you fucking shut up for five fucking seconds and not waste our air in here?! It’s not fucking well-ventilated and you know that. And you also fucking know that there’s enough room for both of us in here, god fucking damnit.” Tomura was just nodding along at this point, shaking like a leaf. He couldn’t even dare to argue back at this point. Shamefully, he was too scared. Thank god Dabi couldn’t see his face, because Tomura was sure it was frozen in a mask of fear at the moment.
“Alright.” He responded, oddly quiet compared to what he normally was. Dabi grumbled, and Tomura could feel the jacket be tugged away from his general vicinity as Dabi presumably wrapped himself up in it. Tomura only squirmed upwards back to a sitting position and shoved himself further into a corner as he hugged his knees. He noticed he was hyperventilating slightly and forced himself to swallow, closing his eyes. It would be his turn to drive next, and he’d do better to get some sleep now in case he wouldn’t be able to later. So he yanked to hood of his sweater back over his face, hugged himself tighter, and drifted back off into sleep as the truck drove over the potholes.
His sleep was dark once more, but full of nightmares and faces that Tomura wished he could forget. Father, mother, sister, brother, his dog and his aunties and the snarling faces of-
Death. Death, death, death, all that he touched and ate and sang was fully laden with death, oatmeal and apples and horrendous words thrown at him alongside fists, abuse he was convinced he deserved, poison that he willingly drank, death and destruction and decay and hell-
He stayed in his wonderland of horrors, locked and unable to escape.
He cried.
“-IGARAKI!” Someone was yelling, and Tomura screamed as he covered his mouth with his hand and slammed himself into his corner. He was sobbing and choking on air, shaking like a leaf in a tornado with a million different begging words and pleas falling from his lips that all culminated in one simple sentence.
“Please don’t hurt me!” He choked out, and he swore there were three beats of silence before someone huffed and moved. Tomura flinched at the action, hearing someone hush him gently before something was dropped with a fwump. A blue flame sparked to life and Dabi’s half-hidden face was at last illuminated as he fumbled with the inner lock on the truck’s doors. Tomura watched, not fully processing what was going on and what persona he was supposed to be portraying, sitting there and still sniffling pathetically in his purest state: a scared child who didn’t know what he was doing. Still, he continued to watch as Dabi melted a couple pieces of the mechanisms and the door at last swung open. The taller man caught it before it swung all the way out, peeking out into the evening light cautiously to make sure that nobody was out there. Then, as carefully as he could, he began punching holes in the door, little pieces of metal either flying down the road or instantly liquifying from the flames. Tomura watched in silence, noticing how that stupid black trenchcoat the Dabi always wore was on the ground. Tomura’s fingers itched to grab it, something in him wishing for the warmth from before, and he unconsciously pulled on his gloves- the gloves like the ones that Sensei had given him when he was younger to not destroy his bedroom and cutlery- to make sure they were still on firmly. He sniffed and rocked back and forth as Dabi finally finished the job and closed the door once more, making sure it locked and inspecting his new handiwork. Tomura cleared his throat.
“What are th-those for?” His voice was soft and crackled a little, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to muster up any of his leader presence right now. Honestly, he didn’t want to. Dabi sat back, leaning against the wall with a sigh.
“Holes for light and air. Fresh oxygen will probably make it easier for you to calm down.” He nudged his coat at Tomura with his foot, watching as he retreated backwards somewhat. “Want it? It’s gonna get cold pretty fast for you with those holes in there.” Tomura blinked owlishly at him, confused.
“Y-you… want me to take it?...” Dabi shrugged.
“I mean, if you want it. It is pretty cold out tonight, honestly, and I don’t want you to turn into a clingy gremlin again.” Tomura huffed, finding himself only slightly insulted.
“But why?”
“I just told you, Creep, because-”
“-no. Why are you being s-so nice to me? You could’ve just t-told me to fuck off, but you didn’t. S-s-so, why?” The stutter didn’t really make him sound that threatening, but whatever. He hesitantly reached out with a gloved hand, hovering it over the coat. Dabi motioned at him to take it, and Tomura slowly picked it up, watching the other man to make sure that it wasn’t some sort of trap. He expected Dabi to sigh and groan, make some snappy comment or another insult, or even attack him- but there was nothing. Nothing but quiet patience as he examined his pack of cigarettes that had fallen out of the coat pocket. At last, Tomura hesitantly slipped his arms through the jacket sleeves, squirming around to maneuver the jacket into a more comfortable position on him. The sleeves, he noted, were oddly large on him, and the hems covered his hands completely. Oh well. Finally, he made eye contact with Dabi. The man shoved his cigarettes into his jeans pocket and jerked his chin at Tomura.
“You good? Warm?” Tomura nodded silently, pausing for about ten seconds straight.
“...thank you.” He at last whispered. Dabi raised a brow but shook his head as if to dismiss it. “R-really! And.. I won’t disin-disintegrate it, I promise.”
“How caring of you, Mophead. So unlike you.” Dabi drawled, and Tomura just had to roll his eyes at that.
“Yeah, well, s-sorry. And you st-still haven’t answered that que-question! Why aren’t you being a d-d-dick to me?” Dabi seemed to go to start making fun of the stutter but stopped, looking down to his lap and fidgeting with the fraying edge of his shirt. Tomura just watched him, dragging his nails along the insides of the coat’s sleeves, the warmth serving to calm and comfort him. The coat also served to bring up the same conflicting feelings from before, but Tomura was more focused on not crying again- he was still stupidly shaky, even now, even though that was no way for a leader to be seen and he knew that full well, and even though by now, he shouldn’t still be wiping slow tears from his face. Still, Tomura waited silently for Dabi’s answer.
“...you were screaming.” He at last said, and Tomura visibly flinched. “I don’t know what sort of… what sort of freaky shit you were dreaming about, but obviously it wasn’t great.” Tomura had started scratching his neck by now, nervous energy filling every inch of his body. Something shifted and Tomura felt Dabi grab his wrist, dragging it down before grabbing the other one to hold it in the same manner. The restraints were gentle but still firm, and Tomura knew that he probably could break out of them if he really tried. But he didn’t. He just trembled, lower lip shaking, as he looked at Dabi’s scarred face. The dim light in the truck made his eyes glow even more unnaturally than they already did, and Tomura wasn’t sure whether he was more fascinated or terrified by them. He just kept darting his eyes up and down, up and down, unsure where he should be looking. Dabi just shook his wrists gently.
“Shigaraki.”
“-Tomura.” He blurted without thinking. “T-Tomura.” Dabi spluttered for a moment, having to look away to compose himself from shock. There was a deep breath.
“Okay, Tomura then. You need to breathe. Don’t hyperventilate now, it’s not going to make anything better. Okay?” The two made eye contact again and Tomura blushed.
“Okay,” He managed, and Dabi nodded his head.
“Okay. C’mon, in and out.” He sucked in an exemplary breath and Tomura followed shakily, silently wondering after a few minutes as to why on Earth he was listening to this asshole. But he was doing it now, and he had to admit that he preferred not to hyperventilate. And also that he wasn’t spiteful enough to stop listening to Dabi at the moment. So, he just shut up and breathed in and out, until he was calm enough to satisfy Dabi. The man watched him carefully as he retreated back to his side of the truck, still breathing steadily as if Tomura would follow.
(As Tomura soon realized, he was still following along with the man.)
(Well, fuck.)
At last, Dabi’s back hit the wall of the truck and he sunk back. He exhaled slowly, crossing his legs and bringing one knee up to his chest as he watched Tomura.
“You’re okay.” He said quietly. “You are okay.” He paused, and Tomura realized belatedly that he was waiting for confirmation.
“Y-yes. I’m alright.” A heavy swallow. “Yeah, a-all good.” Dabi arched a brow at him skeptically and Tomura looked away quickly. There was silence.
“You comfy?” Dabi’s voice came back, and Tomura sighed heavily.
“Yes. Yes, I’m fine, I’m great, I’m warm, I’m c-c-calm, it’s fine. It’s fine, I’m fine, this is all gr-great. Why the fuck are you being so nice to me?” He almost managed to snap the last bit out. Nearly. Dabi frowned, taking his cigarettes out of his pocket before pausing and putting them back. At least he wasn’t going to smoke in here. Those holes, while allowing the cold air to come in, weren’t large enough to filter out the smoke well enough for Tomura’s likings. The man just sat back, chewing his bottom lip as he formed a response.
The silence was almost deafening.
Tomura grumbled, pulling the jacket tighter around him. The smell off of it was cigarette smoke and campfires, vague childhood memories that felt like they didn’t- or shouldn’t- exist because of how distant they seemed. There was something else in there, something that Tomura didn’t know what it was, and he furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out the mystery smell. He’d almost forgotten about Dabi until the man gave a heavy sigh. Tomura looked up to find the man rubbing this face hard- hard enough for Tomura to start to reach out to make sure the man didn’t rip his staples out, just as Dabi threw his head back and dropped his hands.
“My dad was- is a piece of shit.” He blurted out, and Tomura retracted his hand faster than lightning. He took a couple seconds to process what the taller man had said before his jaw dropped. Oh. He was serious, and serious in the personal way too.
What the actual fuck?
“Okay?...” He prompted. Dabi huffed.
“Look, don’t get sassy now. You were… I don’t know what the fuck was going through your creepy little mind, but you were screaming for your dad to stop.” Tomura felt his heart stop. It felt like the air had been stolen from his very lungs, only managing to choke out a tiny little noise.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. And, like… I dunno. I guess I understand how shitty family can be to you.” A dry laugh. “Especially fuckin’ asshole dads.” Dabi’s eyes were vacant, and one scarred hand was twitching. Whether it was from nerve damage or from his cigarette craving was another question, but Tomura… well. It was impossible to muster up any sort of assholish biting comment when that had been said beforehand. And Tomura honestly didn’t want to make a comment like that, not now at least. It didn’t feel right, quite honestly, and both men were far too vulnerable to start fighting without tears at the moment.
Tomura, somewhere within him, felt a connection between the two. And it disgusted him. He was feeling some sort of weird bond with a scarred, chain-smoking, burnt piece of bacon with raging daddy issues, for god’s sakes! He was wearing his coat and debating what it smelled like! He was losing his fucking mind, that’s what was going on!
...he was tired. He was only tired and that’s why he couldn’t shove up his mask of leadership right now and why he was being so soft and cheesy around this utter dick.
But he could afford to be soft for tonight, he supposed. It would stop a murder and any fights that would or could break out and that they were both too exhausted for. He could be soft.
“...I’m sorry.” He whispered. Dabi’s head jerked up a bit from sheer shock before he forced a calm aura.
“Not your-”
“-I don’t care that it’s not my problem, shitty dads are shitty and shitty dads fucking suck. And we both know that way too fucking well, from the sounds of it. And… I’m sorry that you had to deal with it. It sucks.” Tomura slouched a little, staring at his lap. He could hear Dabi shift.
“Yeah. I, uh. Thanks. Uh, never expected you to... react like that.” He scratched the back of his neck as Tomura smiled humorlessly.
“I may hate you and constantly start shit, but you’re somewhat of a human and sometimes- as much as I fucking despise when it happens- sometimes, I can understand you. I’m not that much of a heartless dick.” Dabi was quiet.
“...yeah. Yeah, I- fuck, I want a smoke. A smoke or a drink or a fucking never-ending nap.”
“Well, can’t get you the first two, but I’ll leave you alone long enough to sleep.” Tomura smirked. “As a certain asshole once told me, ‘there’s enough room for both of us in here’-” He stopped to clear his throat. “-’god fucking damnit.’ Did I do your voice justice?” Dabi snarled. “Hey, I’m driving next anyways.”
“Fuck you.”
“Bold statement to make when locked in a moving truck with someone.”
“And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”
“Get your fucking mind out of the gutter. Means I can destroy your stupid fucking coat and your throat in five seconds flat if I wanted to.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me, fucker.”
“There’s the Mophead I know.”
“Fucking fight me, pussy.” Dabi smiled softly with a scoff.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to sleep first. Take a raincheck.” Tomura rolled his eyes.
“Uh-huh, alright. Don’t set me on fire via your annoying fucking snoring or whatever.”
“Don’t kill me in my sleep and we’ll see.” The man began to shuffle himself into a more comfortable position. “Deal?”
“Maybe.” Tomura shot back, and Dabi sneered. “What about your precious coat, huh?”
“Oh my god, for the last fucking time! Keep the damn thing! It’ll stop you from bitching about the cold to me, and if I’m lucky, your skinny ass is gonna drown in it.” He laid down fully on the trucks floor, turning his back to Tomura as he finally gave up on staying awake. “Now let me fucking sleep.”
“So kind,” Tomura said mockingly, receiving a tired middle finger in response. He rolled his eyes, lying down on the floor beside the other man and covering himself completely with the coat. He could’ve shoved and pushed the person beside him if he wanted to.
But he didn’t.
He just laid there in silence, drifting back into significantly calmer sleep with an oversized trench coat helping him doze. Just when Tomura was about to go all the way into sleep, there was a quiet murmur.
“Goodnight, Tomura.”
He was unconscious.
Tomura had to drive with the sleeves on Dabi’s stupid coat rolled up, but it didn’t mean that he was going to take it off. Kurogiri had given him a strange look when he’d gone out to take his turn driving and Tomura had only responded with raised eyebrows and a question.
“Aren’t you tired? You just took a pretty big shift. Crispy bacon murder fuck isn’t dead, don’t worry.”
“...that is not my concern.” The man just responded, and Tomura sighed as he began to climb into the driver’s seat.
“Kurogiri. You’re exhausted, and I know it. You always overwork yourself, and you’ve been doing that since I met you. Please. We can talk about this later if you want to, but get some rest. I’m begging you.” His eyes were genuine as he looked at the incorporeal man, and Kurogiri eventually sighed and rubbed at his eyes.
“As much as I hate to admit it, Tomura, you’re right. But we will be having a conversation about this later.” Tomura scoffed with a smile.
“Whatever you say, ‘Giri. Get some rest.” Kurogiri’s eyes moved in a way that Tomura knew was a smile before disappearing into the back of the truck, leaving Tomura to drive.
The mysterious third smell still bothered him. It was sort of chemical and it reminded him of a place he didn’t know or couldn’t remember the name of, and it made his nose crinkle at first. He’d gotten used to it eventually, though, and at this point he’d actually started to like it. The entire coat just smelled like Dabi, smoke and bodywash and a chemical sort of scent, and maybe it was because of how he’d used it to calm Tomura down, but he found it… comforting.
There was a disgusting feeling in his lungs and gut. He despised it with all of his bitter soul.
But, even still- as Tomura only half-paid attention to the road ahead, the radio playing the same station he remembered it playing a few nights before-
He figured that Dabi wasn’t as bad as he thought sometimes.
Sometimes.