Chapter Text
“-please, please, I’m begging, I have a family! A wife and children!” The man whimpered, struggling in his bindings before his head swiveled up, eyes wide and bloodshot, tears clinging to his lashes. “My eldest-! He, he has a volleyball match this weekend! He’s only twelve, please, don’t let my boy grow up without a father,” he trailed off into a string of ugly sobs, chest heaving with every breath as he cried hysterically.
“Your kids didn’t mean all that much two hours ago, now did they?” Dabi asked, voice low, yet somehow it drowned out the man’s cries as he calmed his hysterics for a moment to listen to his attacker. “You were all too willing to throw it all away for a quick fuck,” he said, fiddling with the man’s wedding ring in his right hand, twirling it around and around. The married man had worn it to the bar, yet he easily claimed his marriage was over and done with. Lies. “Did you lie to me?”
“No! Of course not, I-I wou, would never lie to you, Dabi, you-” he cut off with a hitched breath when Dabi sighed, straightening his spine and leaning back on the steel barrel of something he was sitting on. “Please, I, I can give you whatever you want. Anything. Money! I have- as much as you want, I can give it to you and we can part ways like nothing happened,” he rushed, wiggling in the wooden chair he was tied to. “You can empty out my bank account if you want! Just untie me and I can wire it to you, or you can take my card! Just please, I’ll do anything!”
Dabi hummed, swaying side to side with his legs stretched out, the heels of his boots resting on the dirty ground. “Anything?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, widening his eyes just a fraction to come across as innocent as possible.
The man nodded frantically - Dabi had already forgotten his name - and shifted slightly in his seat, as if he could sit up straighter in his eagerness to appease Dabi. “My wallet, it’s in my pocket. Go ahead, take it, I can give you the password to my account, take my cash, sell my wedding ring, whatever it is take it,” he said, voice raising again near the end, his breathing growing erratic, but he seemed to have calmed down somewhat now that he thought he was getting away.
It always amused Dabi. Every man was the same, they always tried throwing their money at him, like they could buy their freedom. As if money was something he wanted. He leaned back and swung forward onto his feet, an amused quirk to his lips as he slowly walked towards his victim, pausing in front of the man, who looked at him with wide eyes. Dabi sighed as he rolled his eyes back into his skull and swung a leg over the man’s bound legs to sit on his lap. The man jolted, tensed, and exhaled a quick, soft breath as he visibly tried his damndest not to squirm under Dabi’s weight.
“Hmn, is it…here?” Dabi murmured, hooking his gloved fingers into one of the man’s front pockets. “Or is it this one?” He asked, doing the same with the other pocket whilst staring deeply into the man’s eyes as he pushed his hands deep into his pockets and found his wallet with a little sound of triumph. “There it is.”
The man exhaled shakily and closed his eyes for a moment. “The- the code is-”
“These are your kids, huh?” Dabi cut him off as he examined the photo the man had in his wallet of his son and daughter. “Well, aren't they just the cutest?” He asked, his expression going blank as he slowly lowered the wallet to rest between them, staring at the man’s face. “Do you love your children?”
“What? Of course I do!” The man shouted, a look on his face like he was insulted by Dabi’s question.
Dabi sighed and wrapped his arms around his neck, the wallet dangling loosely between his fingers, still open on the photograph of the family. “Well isn’t that nice? Happy family and all that wonderful bullshit,” he said and straightened his legs out, resting more of his weight on the man. “Why would you throw it all away for a one night stand, hmn? If you’re so happy and love your kids so much?” He asked, eyes trailing over the man’s face. His age was made clear, wrinkles on his forehead, in the corners of his eyes, smile lines in his cheeks. Brown hair streaked with some gray. He was only in his mid forties, but he seemed to age fairly quickly. Stress, a hard life? He opened his mouth to reply, but Dabi shifted forward a bit, clicking his tongue a few times. “Better be honest now dear, wouldn’t want to piss me off,” he warned, voice lowering into a whisper.
“We’ve been married for twenty-three years,” the man started slowly, words a little shaky; his shoulders would tense and relax under Dabi’s arms as he tugged on his restraints behind his back. “We were young, we met in university, we had fun, and then she fell pregnant. We got engaged, because we felt it was the right thing to do for the sake of the baby. We married when she was seven months along, we were happy, but then…” he trailed off, eyes closing as he sobbed softly again and lowered his head. “Then we found out that something was wrong with the baby. Something rare and unfortunate, she would give birth to a stillborn. My wife cried and mourned for the remainder of her pregnancy, and when our daughter was born she was already gone. I had hoped it was all a lie, that by some miracle our baby girl would have survived and come into the world screaming. She didn’t. And suddenly, it was like we were both trapped in a loveless marriage we couldn’t escape from because divorce meant shame on both our families.”
He sat quietly in the man’s lap, listening to his story, expressionless with not a drop of sympathy felt. “You still had two brats with her, though, didn’t you?”
The man nodded. “Yes. We got help, couple’s and individual therapy. It worked for a while, and after five years of grief we started trying again, but,” the man swallowed and licked his lips, eyes trailing up to look at Dabi’s face. “I always thought something was missing. A big part of me hoped that every time we had sex it’d end the same. No child, no family; I prayed I was shooting blanks. I…wanted something else. My wife, she’s beautiful, but-”
“The problem is she has a pussy instead of a cock, right? It’s what you’re saying, hmn?” Dabi interrupted and watched as the man’s face flushed in embarrassment. “Are you trying to tell me you’ve been fucking around with men all these years? Behind your wife’s back? How scandalous, sir,” he said, ending his sentence with a short chuckle.
The man gave him a look, like he was dealing with a child. “Not quite. I’ve only been experimenting for about a year, and she’s well aware,” he explained, and huffed when Dabi raised both of his brows curiously. “It was her suggestion. We have a bit of an agreement, you see. If I find a…young, strapping and willing man, I’d take him home, and the three of us could have a little fun.”
Dabi was surprised, to say the least, yet incredibly amused. “A threesome, really?” He asked and tilted his head to the side. “I missed out, huh? Your wife is easy on the eyes, too bad I’m not too good at pretending,” he said, although the last part was quite the lie. He pulled the wallet up to his face to look at the obviously years old photo the man had of his wife on their wedding day.
“She likes to watch,” the man said simply with a little shrug, as good as he could given his predicament.
“Well now that definitely sounds more like my flavor,” Dabi said, taking out the man’s money - a good thirteen thousand yen - and shoved it into the back pocket of his pants. “So tell me, and I’d choose your words carefully, why exactly did you choose little old me tonight?” He asked as he flipped through the man’s wallet and threw it to the side like a frisbee when he didn’t find anything more of interest.
The man seemed like he was prepared for the question, and very eager to answer. “Because you’re beautiful,” he said, and Dabi couldn’t help but to give him an exasperated look. He wanted more.
“Really? Is that all?” He asked and faked a little pout.
“No! It’s- you caught my attention as soon as I sat down. Your skin, so smooth and pale, and your eyes? So striking. I wanted- I want to see your body. To feel your skin under your shirt, is it as soft as it looks?” The man said, his eyes somehow dark with something, like lust or desire, and it amused Dabi that despite his situation, the man was still thinking with his dick. “And your thighs. Fuck. So supple, like you dance for a living, and I want them wrapped around my head,” he trailed off, his eyes trained on Dabi’s thighs, partly hugging his waist with the way he sat. “You dressed so sinfully tonight, it’s like you were begging someone to notice you and spend the night focused only on you. Like you wanted someone to fuck you.”
Amusing. Dabi huffed a soft little laugh. “That was the point, you know,” he said and pulled his legs up, feet planted on the floor instead of stretched as far back as his long legs could reach. “I dress up, put on a little make up, make myself available and easy to approach. A pretty little toy for a desperate old man to notice and fuck around with for the night.”
The man’s lips parted in a sardonic smile. “I see. You do this often, huh,” he said as his eyes trailed down Dabi’s throat towards his chest, peeking out from the satin button up shirt he wore.
“At least once a week,” Dabi said, his tone light, and shuffled even closer to the man, until he sat right on his crotch. “You still want to have some fun? It might not be the same without the missus here to watch, but I bet we can still have a good time,” he trailed off, leaning his face as close to the man’s as he dared.
The man took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. “Will you untie me, first? I want to touch you,” he whispered, flexing his arm like he could magically pull his arms up from behind his back and put his hands on Dabi.
“Hmn, it depends. Will you be good for me?” Dabi asked and pressed a chaste kiss to the man’s lips before he could answer. “No running away.”
“Of course,” the man agreed easily.
Dabi smiled and watched as the man relaxed visibly. A fool, really, but he wasn’t about to tell him that. Instead, he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, pressed close until his beer belly pressed warmly against Dabi’s, and kissed him. Maybe he should have indulged in the sex first before luring the man here, but then…well, he didn’t think he was very sexually attracted to the old man. As handsome as he was, when it came to bed partners, Dabi wanted someone younger and prettier. The man was a good kisser, he could say that much, taking control despite the circumstances. It was hot. Dabi liked control, yes, but he also liked when someone took it, yet he was still so easily able to turn the tables again if he so desired. It made something stir in his gut, a pleasant, familiar warmth.
“Sit back and let me take care of this,” Dabi murmured against the man’s mouth, trailing his hand down his torso, over his soft belly towards his pants.
He had to shift just a bit to lay his palm flat against the man’s cock over his pants. The man’s breath hitched sharply as Dabi ground his palm against him, body twitching under Dabi, his legs tensing. Dabi licked his lips and leaned back, eyes focused on the man’s crotch as he undid his button and zipper, pulling his hard length out. He was surprisingly sizable, a handsome cock Dabi otherwise wouldn’t mind sitting on. Dabi pouted as he wrapped his fingers around him and gave an experimental stroke. He half regretted not taking the man back to some motel like he’d briefly thought of earlier in the night.
“Oh fuck,” the man moaned hoarsely, his voice somewhat off putting as he tilted his head back.
Dabi watched as his neck and face turned red, mouth fallen open unattractively, groaning in pleasure. Scratch that, the man wouldn’t last nearly as long as Dabi would have liked, as moments later - not even a full minute after he started to stroke his dick - he came with a few short grunts, breathing through his mouth like he had to climb up ten flights of stairs. Disgusted, Dabi dragged his tongue over the front of his teeth, squeezed the man’s length until his eyes shot open and he made a sound of pain.
“Well now that was just disappointing,” Dabi said as he let go of the man’s length and wiped his mess on the simple white button up he wore. He supposed the man tried looking all snazzy and attractive wearing a suit. “Men like you are the reason why women like to complain about us online,” he commented as he started to undo the man’s shirt buttons.
“I’ve had no one complain before,” the man said, clearly upset and insulted, much to Dabi’s amusement.
“Awh,” Dabi cooed and patted the man’s cheek roughly. “No need to get all butthurt about it. This is just going to be so much more fun for me,” he said and leaned back again out of the man’s space. His chest was quite hairy. Dabi stared as intensely as he could, deft fingers starting to work on his own shirt’s buttons. “Overstimulation is…well, maybe my most favorite kink.”
The man wasn’t listening, eyes fixated on the pale expanse of Dabi’s chest and stomach. Dabi was well aware he was considered attractive, his chest was well defined, stomach flat, navel and nipples pierced. He knew how to tease others with his appearance, how to garner attention when he wanted it, how to dress to accentuate his best features. It was why he always settled for tight pants when he was out, whether it was with the intent of finding his next victim or someone to fuck around with. He tucked his shirt out of the leather pants he chose for tonight and smirked, somewhat basking under the man’s intense gaze. Alas, he’s stretched this out a lot longer than he planned.
“Beautiful,” the man murmured as he stared at Dabi’s chest, and swallowed heavily.
“Like what you see?” Dabi asked, amused. “Remember you promised to be good for me,” he reminded as he stood up.
The man nodded and licked his lips, eyes trailing all over Dabi’s body, like he was putting on a show for him. “Anything you want.”
“Anything?” Dabi asked, briefly hooking a thumb into his pants’ waistline and pulling it down to reveal more of his pale skin. He chuckled at the way the man’s eyes quickly shot down to stare. “Tell me something. Answer honestly,” Dabi said as he walked slowly to a paper bag he had stashed in the warehouse before he left for the night. He pulled out a bottle of vodka and moved to stand behind the man, taking a swig of it before he leaned over the man’s shoulder, the bottle poised at the man’s lips. “Take a few sips for me.”
Hesitant, the man gulped down several mouthfuls once Dabi grew impatient and tugged on his hair. He sputtered and coughed and audibly gagged, much to Dabi’s amusement. Once he was satisfied, he took a few sips for himself, and then held the bottle over the man’s head, tipping it upside down and spilling the rest of the alcohol on his head. The man shouted, groaned and hissed as it stung his eyes.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” The man screamed angrily.
Dabi laughed, loud and maniacal. “Honestly? A lot,” he said as he put the bottle back in the paper back, taking a hunter’s knife and lighter out. He straddled the man’s lap again, and pressed the blade of the knife against the man’s cheek. “Tell me, how flammable do you think forty percent vodka is?” He asked, expression blank.
The man’s breathing picked up once again. “Wh-what? Please, please don’t do this,” he pleaded and sniffled once again, and barely a minute later his body shook with hysterical sobs again.
“Now, now, there’s no need to cry,” Dabi said in a false comforting tone, pulling the knife away from the man’s face. “You promised you’d be good, remember? Good boys don’t cry,” he murmured and hushed the man, patiently waiting until he quieted down. Dabi leaned back again and smiled, something pretty and dimpled. “I’ve been nice to you all night, don’t you think? I indulged in your desperate attempts to impress me with your money, I jerked you off, even let you have a little peek under my shirt. Honestly, I’ve been nicer to you than any of my other victims.” The look on the man’s face, the fear and shock, oh how amusing it was. It made Dabi laugh.
“Vi-victim? You mean-”
“Have you heard about The Immolate Killer?” Dabi asked, a wide grin on his lips as he watched the realization set in for the man. “Yours truly,” he whispered and poised the knife against the man’s chest, right over his beating heart.
“Wait, wait, wait-ah!” The man’s frantic begging cut off as Dabi started to carve the first line into his chest.
“That's it, keep screaming for me,” he said as he dug the blade in deep, the wounds stinging from the vodka, blood slowly making its way down his torso.
The man’s yells and pleas of pain continued as Dabi carved three more lines to add to the first. “Please, stop, enough, it hurts,” the man sobbed as Dabi leaned back to admire his handiwork.
Dabi pouted for a moment as he wagged his finger in the man’s face, tisking, and laughed as the man started to sob once again. “Stop? But we’ve only just gotten started.”
“Kyoto residents left in shock as The Immolate Killer strikes again. The latest victim, found on Tuesday afternoon by two teenage boys, has finally been identified as Sato Ryunosuke, a forty-three year old father of two. He was discovered in a warehouse, bound and brutally stabbed, his throat slit and his head burned. The Immolate Killer’s signature ‘E’ carved on his chest. Officers describe the scene as-”
“I’m telling you, you’re going to fail your classes if you don’t start studying now,” Yaoyorozu said as she handed over a few bills to Kaminari, who pouted as he took it and gave her her change back. “I can help you, you know that.”
“I know, I know, it’s just,” he said and sighed while he turned around to make her tea, an expensive brew he was sure the owner bought for her only. “I don’t even know if I want to keep going with this major anymore. I can’t keep up with the course work, no matter what I do, and honestly, it just doesn’t seem like worth the effort anymore.”
“Not worth the effort? But you’re so passionate about languages! What happened to your dream about becoming a teacher?” Yaoyorozu asked, her brows pulled together in concern.
Kaminari shrugged, but took a moment to change the TV channel; he didn't want to see the gruesome, yet blurred images. Who thought to leave the news channel on in a coffee shop of all places? “I don’t know, it’s just a lot for me right now,” he said as he passed her the tea in a pretty brown, recyclable takeaway cup. “I’ll think about it, but for now, dropping out seems like the best option for me.”
She sighed softly, but gently squeezed his hand before she took her cup and slid her mask back into place. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call, alright? You know I’m here for you if you need someone,” she said and gave that pretty eye smile of hers. “And you know Bakugou will help too, aggressively, but no less sincerely.”
“Thanks, Yaomomo,” Kaminari said with a soft snort. “I’ll see you in class later.”
“Alright, I’ll see you later.”
With one last wave, she turned on her heel and walked out of the coffee shop. Kaminari pursed his lips and groaned, spinning on his heel in a circle, muttering under his breath as he started to furiously wipe the counter. Honestly, he hated it when his friends cornered him at his workplace to talk about his future, well aware he couldn’t kick up nearly as much a fuss as he could in private. It was his future, he should be able to do with it as he wished! And if he wanted to drop out of university, then so be it. He huffed, before he looked up and locked eyes with perhaps one of the most attractive men he'd seen in a while. He was simply standing in front of Kaminari, watching him blankly, white hair falling across his forehead and nearly blocking his pretty blue eyes.
“Oh fu-I mean! Hello!” He startled, his voice slightly more high-pitched than he’d intended it to be.
“Hi,” the guy said, voice slightly raspy. A smoker, maybe?
It was quiet as they simply stared at each other, and Kaminari became aware of a slow grin crawling onto the man’s face, the piercings in his cheeks making his dimples all the more prominent. “Uhm. Wha-what can I get for you?” He stuttered, glancing quickly between the man’s gorgeous face and the register.
“Hmn,” he hummed, teeth tugging at the lip ring in the corner of his lower lip. Kaminari couldn’t help but to stare. He was so pale, wearing a beige cardigan, white shirt underneath, and light brown trousers. It somehow made him look so soft and ethereal. “An iced americano,” he said, breaking Kaminari out of his spiralling thoughts.
“Oh! Yes, uh, good choice, uhm wh, what size?” He asked and tapped furiously on the register to avoid looking at the man. His hands shook nervously.
“Medium.”
“Okay,” Kaminari said, then rattled off the price and finally looked up at the man to receive his payment. His hands were so soft, holy shit, he thought and handed the change back, grinning brightly, hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Can I get your name, please?” He asked, sharpie in hand to scribble the man’s name down.
“Touya,” he said, an amused look on his face as Kaminari softly muttered his name under his breath as he wrote.
“Alright, I’ll have your order ready in a minute!” Kaminari announced, offered another smile to the man and walked away.
The entire time he was overly aware of the man’s gaze on him. A simple glance in the shiny stainless steel edges of the coffee machine confirmed his suspicions. The man was standing diagonally behind him, hands resting on the edge of the counter, staring blankly at him. Nervous and slightly put off, Kaminari simply assumed the man had coincidentally zoned out while watching him. Once he was done, he turned back to the customer, who straightened subtly and smiled charmingly, the corners of his eyes crinkling, dimples on full display. Oh shit, he was so cute.
“There we go, one iced americano! Is that all for you?” Kaminari asked somewhat curiously. For some reason, the guy struck him as the blueberry muffin type.
He shook his head. “That’s all,” he said, and dropped a few notes in the blond’s tip jar. “Thank you, Kaminari.”
With a subtle wink, he turned on his heel and exited the coffee shop, leaving Kaminari absolutely flustered. He sighed softly and cupped his own cheeks, mildly horrified when he felt how warm his cheeks were and groaned again. Today was just full of too many stresses, and he had that damn class he had to go to in less than three hours that he was ridiculously behind on. The sound of the coffee shop’s door opening again - a pleasant little ding from the bell hanging above the double sided door - pulled him out of his thoughts. He sighed softly before putting on his best customer service smile and greeted the couple that came up to the counter with a faux happiness.