Shigaraki enters the bar and quietly takes a seat. Kurogiri offers him a polite greeting, to which the younger man nods in acknowledgement.
His eyes are then drawn to the plate of brownies on the bartop, and a curious glance at Kurogiri earns him a simple shrug.
“Toga made them,” the bartender clarifies, as Shigaraki examines the plate that the baked goods are resting on.
It’s a glittery pink, with a magical girl on it who appears to have been decapitated. There’s a handwritten note tucked underneath which reads “Eat me~!”, accompanied by a sketch of a leaf that Shigaraki doesn’t recognize. No doubt the plate - and note - are Toga’s doing, given her penchant for this sort of aesthetic.
Still, he didn’t think she’d be into baking.
There’s only a handful of brownies left, and Shigaraki proceeds to eat them all. Vaguely, he tries to recall when the last time he ate was, but finds that it eludes him.
Kurogiri frowns at the other’s nutritional choice, but says nothing.
When he’s finished he passes the plate over to Kurogiri, who makes quick work of cleaning it.
Clearly, nothing about the situation has set off alarm bells for either man.
“Can you give this back to Toga, please?” Kurogiri asks, handing over the plate as soon as he’s done drying it.
Shigaraki grumbles, but agrees. He was about to check in on the others, anyway.
“I assume this is yours,” Shigaraki announces, and Toga turns just in time to catch the plate as he tosses it in her direction.
There’s a moment of silence in which she and Dabi stare down at the empty plate, then back up at Shigaraki, then down at the plate again - repeatedly.
”How many brownies did you have?” Dabi finally asks, his face caught somewhere between horror and amusement.
“I don’t know, three maybe?” Shigaraki scratches his neck uncomfortably. He wonders what the problem is. “There weren’t that many left.”
Toga explodes into laughter, all but falling out of her chair with the force of it. It’s not unusual for the blonde to act this way, but Shigaraki can’t help thinking that he’s being laughed at.
Dabi just smirks and shakes his head. “You want me to tell him?”
“Tell me what?!” The League’s leader doesn’t particularly enjoy being left in the dark.
“Those were special brownies!” Toga explains, practically cackling.
The silver-haired man tilts his head in confusion. Special? “The hell does that mean? I didn’t see anything special about them!”
Dabi just chuckles and takes a drag from his cigarette. “Oh, Shigaraki, you sweet summer child.”
“But I drew a pot leaf on the note!” Toga pouts, protesting.
“Yeah, well, your drawing skills are shit,” Dabi chimes in, and she growls at him.
They’re gathered at the bar now, where they’ve been killing time for about ninety minutes.
At first Shigaraki protested that there was any cause for alarm, but a quick internet search had him uncharacteristically silent. Begrudgingly, he’s agreed to sit with the others and wait until the drugs kick in.
He hasn’t exactly decided what he’ll do when that happens, but surely getting high isn’t something he can’t handle, right?
Although it’s a little disconcerting that his vision’s started blinking on and off, like a lightswitch. He’s also laughing loudly at nothing in particular, but hey, sometimes things are just funny!
How long have they been at the bar now?
The young man just keeps laughing, until the beer in Dabi’s hand catches his eye. Or, more specifically, the hand he’s holding it with.
Does Shigaraki have those, too? He looks down at where his arms are resting on the bartop, and sure enough-
“I have hands,” Shigaraki announces, staring at his palms incredulously.
Even Kurogiri struggles not to laugh at that.
“You sure do, buddy!” Dabi affirms, taking a swig of his beer.
The League’s leader turns to look at him, pupils blown wide.
“You’re hot,” he says, and Dabi almost chokes on his beer.
“That’s, uh, probably a quirk-related comment,” Kurogiri attempts to mediate, an awkward expression on his face.
Dabi clears his throat, pointedly avoiding Shigaraki’s gaze. “I sure fuckin’ hope so.”
Shigaraki really likes the way the lights in the bar are flickering, melting into one another before separating again - only to repeat this behavior ad infinitum. It’s pretty, he thinks.
...Did he just call Dabi hot?
Of course not! That’d be ridiculous.
(It’s true, but he would never say it out loud.)
“We’ve been here a few days, I guess.” Shigaraki gazes at the wall behind the bar as if he’s looking out a window. “It’s good weather.”
Kurogiri shoots Dabi and Toga a look as if to say, You are not leaving me alone with him like this.
Dabi makes an unenthusiastic noise of acknowledgement, before finishing off his beer.
Toga, on the other hand, is having the time of her life. “Tell us more!” she encourages Shigaraki, leaning into his face with a devilish grin.
For once, the silver-haired man isn’t bothered by having his personal space invaded. A dreamy expression crosses his face, and it’s clear that his head is somewhere off in the clouds. (Perhaps the clouds that he’s been watching out the “window.”)
“Fangs,” is all he says, most likely referring to Toga’s toothy smile.
The blonde laughs mischievously, and even dares to gently Boop! Shigaraki on the nose.
“That’s how you lose fingers,” Kurogiri warns darkly. Toga just sticks her tongue out at him.
“You feelin’ okay there, dude?” Dabi asks of Shigaraki, after a moment passes. Quite frankly, he’s impressed with how calm and relaxed their leader’s behaving. Maybe we should get this guy stoned more often.
Shigaraki slowly turns to Dabi, and moves as though he’s going to lay a hand on him.
He has to move slowly, after all, as time has sped up a little bit and he has to compensate for that.
“Absolutely fuckin’ not!” Dabi declares, lurching out of the way. Kurogiri and Toga both tense in anticipation of an attack.
“It’s okay,” Shigaraki assures them. “I don’t have a quirk anymore.”
The three stare at him, baffled.
“Yeah…” he continues, as if replying to himself. “I mean, I do have one. It just… it isn’t here right now.” To demonstrate, he places his hands on the bartop, all ten fingers touching the surface.
And why would it? His quirk just decided to travel for a bit. That’s cool with him.
“I’m sure it’ll be back later.” He smiles, almost proud-looking at his conclusion.
Toga snorts audibly, covering her face to contain her laughter. “Oh my God, he’s fucked!”
Kurogiri sighs heavily, and resumes drying off the shot glasses he’s been cleaning. There’s really nothing he can do for Shigaraki, except to keep an eye on him until the drugs wear off.
Given the nature of his character - and how hard the weed is hitting him - it’s probably the former.
And since Shigaraki’s threat level is temporarily at zero, Kurogiri feels comfortable leaving him in Dabi’s care while he takes a phone call.
Toga was supposed to help, of course, but she’s wandered off elsewhere.
There’s probably a sale at Hot Topic, Dabi thinks, and snorts in amusement.
“The sky is beautiful,” Shigaraki declares, gazing up at the ceiling of Dabi’s room. “So full of satellites.” He watches as each object orbits around one another, holding together balance in the universe.
It’s a little hard to see straight since his vision’s gone all fishbowl-y, but in the long run, that’s only going to help him open his third eye. He tells Dabi this.
“Sounds great, man,” the dark-haired man replies absently, scrolling through his social media feed. Much to Dabi’s chagrin, he seems to be the sole person tasked with trip-sitting for the moment.
There isn’t anywhere to sit in his room besides the bed - which Dabi is currently occupying - but luckily, Shigaraki thinks the tile floor is fascinating.
It’s so smooth and cool to the touch. Maybe it snowed?
“I’m glad to have you as a friend,” he sighs happily, leaning back and stretching out his limbs as if making snow angels.
Dabi says nothing, not wanting to go there again. He knows damn well where that train of thought is headed.
“You’re like, super sexy, you know that?”
There. That’s where it’s headed.
”Stop,” Dabi warns. For some reason, Shigaraki keeps circling back to this. “Go watch your satellites.”
“But they’re purple now,” Shigaraki says with a frown. “I liked them better when they were green.”
Dabi rolls his eyes. “Okay, Abracadabra.” He wiggles the fingers of his left hand, gaze still fixated on his phone. “They’re green again.”
”Wow.” Shigaraki sits up to get a better look at Dabi, his voice awed and his eyes wide. “Was that magic?!”
“Sure, dude, whatever.”
“Can I kiss you?”
At this, Dabi does look up from his phone. His left eye is twitching with annoyance and suppressed rage. Or perhaps some other emotion. “No. You. Cannot.”
Shigaraki pouts, flopping back onto the floor.
It’s not uncommon for people to become repetitive when they’re high, but if his boss hits on him one more time, Dabi swears to God he’ll -
“Kiss me?” Shigaraki asks, as if re-framing the question will change the answer.
He really would like it if Dabi kissed him. He’s been thinking this for quite some time now. Why didn’t he voice it before?
Before Dabi has a chance to respond, the silver-haired man starts to climb onto his bed, and Dabi throws his hands up exasperatedly. ”Fuck!” he exclaims, slamming his phone down on his nightstand. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit!”
“I don’t think I pay you at all?” It’s somewhere between a statement and a question, as Shigaraki leans in closer.
Dabi’s about to vehemently agree with that, when Shigaraki fucking snuggles up to him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, Dabi thinks, gritting his teeth. This is not how this was supposed to go.
...Wait, did that mean that he had pictured Shigaraki in his room before? In his bed, even?
Dabi has to hastily remind himself that he’s not the one who ate three pot brownies, and there’s no reason for his thoughts to be as muddled as they are, thankyouverymuch.
A moment of silence passes.
“I’m going to kill you,” Dabi says, and there’s nothing in his voice to suggest he won’t.
You know, except for the fact that he doesn’t.
Shigaraki sighs, and winds an arm over the other man’s chest, nuzzling against his shirt. “S’nice,” he mumbles, enjoying the feel of the fabric. He thinks Dabi smells good, too. Kind of like a campfire.
I like s’mores.
Are we camping?
What year is it, anyway?
Shigaraki is sleeping soundly, curled up against Dabi like he’s a beloved teddy bear. The flame user has turned the lights off and thrown a blanket over them, with only the blue glow of his phone in front of his face. He removes one of his earbuds and shoots an unimpressed glance at Kurogiri.
“I’m going to kill all of you,” Dabi says flatly - but again, makes no move to do so. He simply puts his earbud back in and resumes looking at his phone.
Kurogiri just nods wordlessly and closes the door, locking it from the inside.
He knows that if Toga saw them like that, she’d have a fucking field day.
“It’s best not to dwell on it,” Kurogiri suggests, handing Shigaraki a sandwich and a bottle of water. He’d set them aside for when the younger man woke up.
Dabi’s seated at the far end of the bar, pointedly ignoring both of them.
And Toga may still be at Hot Topic, for all anyone knows.
Shigaraki frowns at his sandwich, scratching his neck discontentedly. “I’m kind of craving something sweet. You don’t have any brownies, do you?”
He can’t figure out why Dabi is suddenly on fire, or why Kurogiri is slamming his head against the wall.