lost and found // dabibaku

three

"You thirsty?"

The dryness of his mouth didn't stop him from sneering in disgust, "no."

No matter what, he wouldn't take anything from them, he refused to.

But it seemed as if the stupid patched up idiot could see right through him. It was almost pathetic how quickly he had learned to notice all of Katsuki's tells.

The man let out a snort, gaze shimmering with amusement as he smirked at him.

Something shameful inside Katsuki preened at the expression.

"Don't fuckin' lie to me, kid, we both know that ain't true." He stood from the barstool then, easily swinging his long legs over the bar and hopping over to the other side. "You ain't gonna have the strength to get the fuck out of this shithole if you die of thirst."

Fucking stupid purple fuck with his dumb grin and stupidly blue eyes. Ugh, who the fuck does he think he is?

"Doesn't matter what I feel like, I can beat you fuckers no matter what."

The arrogance in his words nearly wavered.

He wasn't scared, he wasn't.

But he knew what they were capable of. He knew their quirks were strong and dangerous and fuck. Patchwork was right.

"I'm sure you can, hotshot," with those words, Dabi crouched down low, searching for something beneath the counter until he rose from the ground.

The water bottle he held in his hand shouldn't have looked so damn inviting but fuck, Katsuki smacked his dry lips and kept his gaze on it. So good, it looked so fucking good and he was so damn thirsty. But the trepidation within him did not disappear. What if they put something inside of it? What if he woke up strapped to a desk, turning into one of those fucked up Noumus? Fuck.

He had no other choice, though. Even while sitting down he knew that if he were to attempt to move by himself he would crumple to the ground.

Still. The fact that a villain was helping him didn't sit well with him. Not at all.

At least it was Dabi instead of any of the other crazy fuckers.

Speaking of.

Katsuki glanced up at him, watching as the man turned to the side and pulled something out from a container, a long and slim object which he gripped in one hand while jumping over the bar once again.

As he got closer Katsuki's hazy mind finally realized what it was.

A fucking straw.

Right.

He couldn't use his fucking hands.

Within seconds the plastic straw was pressing against his chapped lips.

Fucking hell.

He wished he could move his head away, tell him to fuck off and leave him alone, that he doesn't need his help or his pity.

But as he glanced up, his unfocused gaze meeting the concerned one of the villain before him, he couldn't.

So he parted his lips and drank.

"That's it, go slowly, firecracker, you'll be sick if you drink too fast."

The words were quiet, soft and almost warm with the way they were spoken. It didn't matter, though, nothing but the drink in front of him mattered. Suddenly it was gone and Katsuki couldn't help the whimper that escaped him, the way his head leaned forward to chase the water.