dabi doesn't even have a character tag on this site yet. garbage ship incoming.
Kurogiri insisted he was a useful addition to the league. The man obviously had no idea of how irritating this brat really is. It might well outweigh his supposed usefulness, at least in Shigaraki's book. Just everything about him, from his stupid hair to the way the stitches around his mouth strain when he offers a lopsided smile in response to something Shigaraki said. Everything was so damn irritating.
Shigaraki is silently fuming, the anger having settled as a tremble in his limbs as he presses between Dabi's parted legs. The raven went down surprisingly easy, but Shigaraki figures it's just another way of taunting him. Dangling the illusion of control in front of his face. Waiting for him to snap. Shigaraki jumped the opportunity the instant it arose, but instead of satisfaction, he felt something like shame dig it's claws deep into his guts. Shigaraki hates being played, and Dabi does it so well.
"What's the matter, creep?" the raven hums from his spot on the wooden floor. "Don't know what to do next? Should have thought of that before you tackled me, asshole."
"Shut up," Shigaraki hisses. He has a pale hand wrapped around Dabi's throat, one finger still in the air, twitching. "I could kill you. I could kill you right now!"
"Scary," the young man mutters. The indifference in his voice is insult enough. Still, he makes no attempt to fight Shigaraki off, despite the many opportunities the smaller man gives him in his riled up state. He knows this disregard of the villain's authority does more damage than any quirk could. Dabi is like pliant loam under his hands. Surprisingly enough, Shigaraki finds this more irritating than the usual revolting resistance.
"You're too passive," he hisses, barely withheld anger straining his voice. Under him, Dabi chuckles, curiously watching him through the strands of messy black.
"What? Is this not pleasing you? I thought you liked being in control."
Shigaraki leans forward, putting the slightest bit of weight onto the slim throat beneath him. He does enjoy control. He needs control. If things don't go the way he wants them to it infuriates him, until eventually he feels like bursting with anger. That's why Kurogiri is around, so he doesn't end up a mass murderer just yet. For this exact reason he hates the smug man underneath him with every fiber of his being. In the short time that Dabi has graced the league of villains with his awful presence Shigaraki has been, more than once, close to committing homicide. The raven has made it a hobby to bring the smaller man to the verge of desperation. He knows the way those pale eyes light up when Dabi thinks he has finally pushed him hard enough for Shigaraki to do something reckless. There are days when Kurogiri has all hands full just to keep the two men separated.
But right now, the villain isn't around, and it's only Shigaraki and Dabi, who is still beaming up at Shigaraki from where he has him pressed into the hard ground.
"You think I'm stupid," Shigaraki spits from between chapped lips.
"I think many things of you, but 'stupid' wouldn't be the first thing to pop into my mind. How about 'childish'? 'Impulsive'? Oh, and of course 'fucking ugly'. Honestly, if I were you I'd be walking around with a hand on my face the whole time as well."
The hand in question is missing at this particular moment, so Dabi has a free line of sight to the pale man's face. With smug satisfaction he finds features twisted in agitation. In a sudden motion, Shigaraki leans down, only inches from his face now. His breath is coming in ragged bursts and his pupils are slightly dilated. It's only when Dabi feels something hard press into his thigh that he shifts, and looks down.
After a moment of silence, his eyes fly back up to meet Shigaraki's.
"You gotta be kidding," he mutters. "Are you seriously turned on right now?"
A grin starts to spread his lips apart, wrinkling the skin held together by crude stitches. Between his legs, Shigaraki almost vibrates with anger, and the hand around Dabi's throat tightens its grip the slightest bit. He keeps himself from swallowing against the hold.
"You're one messed up motherfucker, Tomura."
Shigaraki already opens his mouth for a clever response, when a palm presses into his groin. He stares at the hand, a mixture of pale and purple, starting to massage his growing erection through his pants. Involuntarily he bucks into the touch, which earns him a chuckle.
"So eager," Dabi mumbles. "Have you ever done it before? I bet an awkward creep like you never got the chance to fuck anyone. Or, maybe you haven't even touched yourself yet. Your 'teacher' did tell you where babies come from, right?"
"Shut the fuck up!" Shigaraki bellows. His composure is steadily crumbling away, and Dabi beams in delight. As much as he possibly can with the threatening hand still wrapped around his throat. To the smaller man's misery Dabi enjoys playing with fire, and so he grabs Shigaraki's cock through the thin fabric of his pants. The surprised whimper it earns him is pay enough for the possibility of being disintegrated right then and there. By now his own dick has taken an interest in the easily excited weirdo and the friction Shigaraki is creating between his legs is making it a hard task to stay unaffected.
Still, the grey-haired man isn't giving the impression of making a move anytime soon.
"Fucking virgin," Dabi growls. With quick fingers he unbuttons his worn pants, freeing his own cock. He does the same thing to Shigaraki, who gasps when warm fingers brush along his skin. A low chuckle leaves his lips as his fingers slip in the precum leaking from the tip. "I can't believe how fucking excited this gets you."
But Shigaraki is beyond the ability to respond by now. Harshly, he presses into the touch, trying to create some desperately needed friction. He really gives off the impression of someone who has never done this before. Dabi decides to give in for now, not feeling like denying the unstable man; especially now that the situation has taken such a beneficial turn.
He closes his hand around both their cocks and starts jerking them off.
There isn't any finesse to it. It's desperate rutting and rubbing against each other. Shigaraki whines and presses further into the taller man. Beneath him, Dabi is silent, except for the occasional low grunt leaving his mouth; his lips form a tight line. He forces himself to keep quiet. Shigaraki huffs, this being the first moment where he actually wishes for the stitched-up man to be vocal. He wants to hear the voice that can drive him up the wall in an instant. He wants to taste the desperation in it. A thumb drags over the tip of his cock and Shigaraki is ripped out of his possessive thoughts. With a dragged out moan he topples over, burying his face in the crook of Dabi's neck. He can feel the heat coming off the other's body, realizes the red tinting his pale cheeks.
One hand is still curled around the raven's throat, and Shigaraki feels him swallow against his palm. Next, a constant string of "fuck, fuck, fuck" reaches his ears. He turns but Dabi's eyes are closed, completely focused on jerking them both off. Reacting by instinct, Shigaraki fumbles out of his spot against the raven's neck, leaning in to press his mouth against that of Dabi, where the pale melts into purple. In the last moment the man's eyes snap open and he whips his head away.
"Forget it, creep," he hisses, but his voice is free of malice. Just as Shigaraki plays with the thought of punishing the man for his disrespectful attitude, Dabi grips them both tighter. They moan in unison, Shigaraki feeling his limbs begin to tremble. He doesn't intend to, but at this rate he might actually end up killing Dabi on accident, so he releases the shaky hold on his throat.
The raven instantly picks up on that. It's just another silent sign of defeat, a piece of dominance falling away. He devours the man's submission like a hungry wolf.
"What's the matter?" he quips. "Losing control of yourself? How pathetic, Tomura."
But the grey-haired man is beyond his ability to offer a comeback. He feels the humiliation of Dabi's words claw deep into his pride, mixing with the desperation for release. It's a mixture that is dangerously close to driving him insane and driving out the last bit of restraint he has. He whines, a pitched sound coming from his throat. Dabi manages a shaky laugh.
"So needy," he rasps between ragged breaths. "So fucking petty."
His hand slips up, squeezing the tips of their cocks, and Shigaraki breaks apart.
With a pitiful whimper he comes.
Dabi is right, he has never done something like this with anyone before. But he'd rather directly spiral down into hell than let the other know. Instead, he tries to breathe through the spasms shaking his slim frame. Hot seed drips from between Dabi's fingers and onto his belly. Desperately the smaller man ruts into the loose grip, trying to get the last bit of pleasurable friction out of it, until overstimulation forces him to stop. Shigaraki is shaking. His arms are trembling and he would love to just flop down on the other man right now, ignoring his personal grudge for the stitched-up villain.
"Hey, don't pass out on me," Dabi commands. He lifts a hand to pat against the pale man's cheek. It earns him a half-hearted grunt. Annoyance begins to tug at his guts. "Fucker. Should have known you wouldn't have half a pinch of stamina in you."
Measurably less excited now, the raven makes to finish himself off. Out of hazy eyes Shigaraki watches him. He takes in the sight of his unbeloved partner in crime, the way Dabi tilts his head back, eyes closed to fully focus on his task. He seems oddly vulnerable like this. There is a shift of power in the air, and Shigaraki doesn't miss his opportunity. Languidly, he begins to thrust against the young man. With an irritated huff, Dabi cracks his eyes open.
"Stop that."
"Make me, brat," Shigaraki grunts, and a jeering grin begins to spread his chapped lips. He bathes in the raw hate flaring up in those pale eyes.
"Creepy motherfucker," Dabi curses, slightly out of breath now.
With renewed vigor, because the last thing he wants is to offer this weird kid a show, his fingers fly over his own cock. The cum is starting to dry on the exposed part of his stomach and it's such an unpleasing sensation that it throws him momentarily off.
This isn't working, he realizes dully.
With a sudden move, too quick for Shigaraki to realize, he lunges at the man, throwing them both over. The air is forced out of his lungs and Shigaraki's vision is still spinning when he feels a heavy weight settle on his hips. Dabi is straddling him, grinding into him while keeping him down with both hands secured on bony shoulders. It's such an odd contrast to before, and yet the raven still maintains control over him. Shigaraki would be lying if he said this wasn't turning him on again.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asks, voice breaking into a husky laugh when Dabi shoots him a menacing glare.
"Shut up," he presses between gritted teeth. "Should have fucked your mouth instead, at least that would keep you from talking."
Shigaraki watches intently as the raven rolls his hips into him, again and again. He wonders just how many times Dabi has done this before, and irrational jealousy pinches his chest. Shigaraki is possessive. Be it justified or not. He lifts both hands to place them on the raven's thighs, feeling the muscles tense with the effort of supporting Dabi's weight. Shigaraki could touch him right now and it wouldn't actually harm the other man. Not if he's careful enough. But, really, this option is so much better. Watching the cocky brat basically dry-hump his way to release. A satisfying compensation for the young man's attitude.
"Fucking creep… just 'cause you don't know the first thing about screwing," Dabi mutters, leaning further down to increase the pressure against his dick. A bit of precum has leaked out, and is now sticking to both their stomachs.
Maybe he should be ashamed of how quickly he came, how few touches it took to break his restraint. But the endorphins are still swimming thickly through his veins, and so Shigaraki doesn't give the concern a second thought. He is too focused on the picture of the young man on top of him, using his own body to achieve release. Dabi keeps brushing against his cock, which begins to twitch in renewed interest. But it wouldn't come to a second round. The raven has begun to mutter incoherent words under his breath, his earlier composure slowly but surely cracking. The hands wander forth on their own, until they crawl up lean hips. Feeling his own sadistic nature peak up again, he grabs those hips and roughly forces Dabi against his form. It's enough to send the other man toppling over the edge. A string of profanities falls from a stitched mouth, as Dabi shakily grabs his own cock. With slow movements he squeezes the last bit of cum out of the tip, adding it to the one pooling in the hollow of Shigaraki's stomach. The grey-haired man glances at the mess.
"We will never talk about this," he states tersely.
On top of him, Dabi still tries to catch his breath. "Agree."