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Keigo doesn't really know how it happened or realize it indeed happened. It just did.
At first, he and Dabi were only seeing each other outside, in back alleys, abandoned warehouses and secluded rooftops.
Then winter arrived and they progressively moved their meetings to seedy bars and shitty ramen joints in the middle of the night.
Now that he thinks about it, it probably started then. Whatever it is.
He took Dabi back to his place one night, on a whim and probably too many drinks. Dabi couldn't stop bitching about how he didn't want to walk back to wherever he was staying at that moment; that it was too far, and it was cold, and he was tired, and "Come on Birdie, I'm sure you have a fancy comfortable bed that needs to be warmed up", accompanied by a heated body wrapped around Keigo and a pair of lips on his neck that short-circuited his last brain cell.
Since then, Dabi has started to swing by every now and then, his excuses becoming shittier and shittier every time he rang at Keigo's door, until he simply stopped pretending and just crashed at Keigo's.
At first, it was every two weeks. It becomes quickly once a week, then every three days and now…
"Hey, you're back early tonight. Did they kick you out of your office?"
Keigo hums, shedding all his extra layers of clothing and disappearing in the bedroom for a quick shower and comfy clothes. Dabi's sweatpants are his new favorites, hanging low on his hips and pooling around his ankles, but they're soft. Softer than Keigo's for some reason.
He bundles himself in a hoodie and pushes his wet hair away with a stupid All Might headband he received as a gift last week.
Dabi hasn't moved from the couch, legs propped up on the coffee table, absorbed by the Weather Channel. Keigo found out that Dabi has a strange fascination for meteorology and can spend hours watching that damn channel. Especially if he's drunk and/or high.
"It's gonna snow tonight," he announces. "Strong winds apparently. You're not going out again, right?"
Keigo slumps next to the other man, resting his bare feet on Dabi's lap. Warm fingers start immediately kneading into the sole of his left foot, eliciting a content groan from Keigo.
"Unless the city is burning, I'm not moving from this spot until tomorrow morning." He watches the TV screen for a moment and scrunches his nose. "Scratch that, even if the city is burning, I'm not moving from this spot."
Dabi snorts, and moves from Keigo's foot to his ankle and calf, finding the knots and strained muscles with ease and undoing them patiently.
Keigo sighs and drops an arm on his closed eyes.
Well, whatever this is, he can't find it in himself to complain. Least of all ask Dabi to leave.
Keigo is now actually happy to go home, knowing that he won't find a dark, empty place. Even when Dabi is not there when he comes home, it feels different.
He can't really put his finger on as to why. Maybe it's because he knows that Dabi is going to arrive at some point, or because Keigo can see glimpses of him everywhere he looks now. An empty pack of smokes on the kitchen counter. A forgotten t-shirt on the bed. Dabi's favorite soba in the pantry. Another toothbrush in the bathroom, next to the surgical stapler and antiseptic.
Deep down, he knows that it's the most stupid thing he's ever done. He shouldn't have let Dabi worm his way in his life like this. He should have kicked him out the first time he crashed at his place for no reason.
He should have.
But he didn't.
All for reasons he's too stubborn to address. It would mean acknowledging the elephant in the room. Acknowledging that his double-agent mission was a total failure. That he would never be able to betray the man sitting next to him.
How could he renounce the simple pleasure of falling into a warm bed after a shitty night; of being welcomed by scrawny arms and sleepy kisses?
How could he give up on waking up either with a warm body wrapped around his like a vine or to the smell of fresh coffee and the soft noises of someone in the kitchen (or the obnoxious pop songs in the bathroom)?
He peers at the scarred profile from under his arm. His throat tightens as his heart swells and beats a little bit faster.
Dabi diverts his eyes from the TV screen to look at Keigo. He squeezes the calf he was busy to massage until now.
"You're thinking too loud, birdbrain. You're gonna hurt yourself, or worse," he gasps, eyes wide, hand on his heart, "you could get wrinkles."
Keigo drops his arm and nudges Dabi's thigh with his foot with a huff. "Asshole. You got enough wrinkles for the both of us."
"Ha! It's because if I had the looks and the brain, you wouldn't stand a chance."
Keigo grins, his wallowing episode relegated to the back of his mind, just like that. Just because Dabi reads him well enough to know when he's getting stuck in his own head.
He stands up, smacking Dabi with a wing as he walks to the kitchen. "I have the looks, the brain, and the status. You didn't stand a chance."
He's about to open the fridge to grab a snack when two arms wrap around his waist and a chest slots between his wings.
"You sure you're the one winning here?"
Dabi nibbles at Keigo's neck, one hand slipping under his hoodie to trail across his stomach. Keigo shudders, leaning back against Dabi's torso and dropping his head back on his shoulder.
"Mmh. Probably not. My mom warned me to never feed the strays, though." He nuzzles Dabi's neck.
"Your mom is wise."
"Was." He turns in the arms and links his hands around Dabi's neck. "I'm glad I didn't listen to her this time."
Dabi looks at him, an indecipherable glint nestled deep in the blue eyes. His hands tighten around Keigo's hips, pulling him impossibly closer.
"I'm glad too," he ends up saying quietly, barely a whisper, before hiding his face in the crook of Keigo's neck.
They remain there, standing in the kitchen, Keigo's talons scratching gently Dabi's scalp.
The lady on the TV keeps blabbering about the incoming snow, speculating about an eventual storm.
The first snowflakes start falling silently in the winter night.
And they keep holding each other, soaking in each other's warmth, surrounded by a feeling they both know but won't speak.
No.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
But it is here. It exists. And it's precious.
And Keigo is determined protect it, no matter the cost.
As usual, Keigo falls asleep in the middle of the movie they spent half an hour picking.
As usual.
Dabi still can't wrap his head around the fact that Keigo and he have a "usual". He never expected the hero to let him waltz into his life so easily.
Not that he complains. Far from it. For the first time in...well, in ever, to be completely honest, he feels at home somewhere; like he belongs, like he's welcome, appreciated and cared for. Never would have he thought that his home would be the arms of the number two hero, of all people.
But here is. With his own set of keys, his own pair slippers he never uses, his jacket hung next to Keigo's and his own space in the hero's ridiculous dressing (not that he needs a lot of space anyway).
He still wonders why Keigo let him come that close. Dabi is not stupid as to why the number 2 hero tried to worm his way into the League. Hawks is a good liar and if it would have stayed like that, Dabi might have bought the act. But Keigo? He's an open book for Dabi.
Dabi doesn't like Hawks. He prefers by far the man hiding behind the mask. He would kill and burn everything down to break this mask that keeps Keigo trapped.
A light snore, almost a chirp, escapes Keigo's mouth and he nuzzles Dabi's arm, hugging it closer to his chest like a teddy bear.
Dabi smiles fondly, stroking the red feathers resting on his legs.
Yeah, Keigo is worth fighting for.
His phone buzzes in his pocket and he checks the notification. Shigaraki. He sighs. He drops his phone on the couch and shoves a pillow on it.
It will be a problem for Tomorrow Dabi. Tonight, he just wants to be with the sleeping beauty drooling on his arm.
He turns his head and looks at the snow lazily falling on Keigo's balcony, covering the table and chairs where they usually smoke their late night cigarettes. Not tonight obviously.
Dabi stops the movie and shifts gently. "Come on, Birdie, let's get you to bed."
Keigo buries his head in his shoulder with a groan but doesn't wake up.
Dabi rolls his eyes and huddles Keigo in his arms. The hero doesn't even stir, completely lax and pliant against him, face peaceful, devoided of any frown or false smile. That's how Dabi likes him the most.
The relaxed wings fall on each side of Dabi, brushing against the carpet as he walks toward the bedroom.
Dabi is always amazed by how light the hero is.
Hollow bones, he explained to Dabi. Good for flying, not so much for fighting.
Dabi settles him in their unmade bed, amongst the ridiculous mountain of pillows. He arranges the wings so they don't hurt tomorrow morning and pulls the fluffy comforter on the curled up body.
He turns around to leave the room when a hand grabs his wrist. "Don't go."
Keigo's voice is heavy with sleep and his eyes are not even open.
"Please."
Dabi chuckles. "Just going to turn off the lights in the living room. I'll be right back."
Keigo grumbles something and lets go. Dabi checks the door, making sure it's properly locked, pulls the curtains closed and switches off the lights. All of those gestures are now familiar and practiced, meaningless but yet so important.
He pauses for a moment in the dark living room, to simply enjoy the warm feeling of peace coursing through his veins. The numbers on the digital clock of the stupidly high tech microwave change. Midnight.
Dabi grins for himself and goes back to the bedroom. He climbs into the bed and is immediately assaulted by a clingy bird.
"How did you get so cold, so quickly?" He groans as a cold hand sneaks under his shirt.
"Mmmh. I'm just good like that."
Dabi huffs and lets Keigo do his famous human vine trick.
When he finally stops moving, Dabi presses a kiss on his forehead. "Hey."
"What?"
"Happy birthday."
He can hear Keigo's breath catch. The arm around Dabi's waist squeezes him tighter.
"Thank you."