The city hummed softly in the distance as Aldon followed Dabi through the shadowed paths leading to Musutafu’s zoo. The night air was crisp, the faint glow of the moon casting silver streaks along the pavement.

  Aldon wasn’t sure how he had let himself get talked into this. Sneaking into a zoo? Really? It wasn’t the most illegal thing Dabi had dragged him into, but it was certainly up there. He wasn’t a rule-breaker, not really, but somehow, whenever Dabi got that mischievous glint in his eyes, Aldon found himself following along. Maybe that was the problem.

  Still, tonight felt... different.

  Maybe it was because of st night, when Dabi had shown up at his front door, unraveling piece by piece right in Aldon’s arms. Maybe it was the way he had admitted that he wanted Aldon close—that, despite everything, he wasn’t ready to let go.

  And maybe… maybe he wanted to return the favor. Not in words—he wasn’t good at that shit—but in action. Taking Aldon somewhere he’d actually enjoy, distracting him, giving him something to remember besides all the heavy, suffocating parts of st night.

  Aldon had been half-expecting Dabi to disappear again, to slip away into the shadows before dawn, leaving nothing but the faint scent of burnt ozone and a sarcastic note about how sentimental Aldon was. But Dabi had stayed. And now, instead of running, instead of closing himself off again, he had dragged Aldon into another one of his reckless pns.

  It was a thank you in its own way—Dabi’s way.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Aldon whispered, tugging his jacket tighter around himself.

  Dabi shot him a smirk over his shoulder, blue fmes briefly flickering in his palm before he extinguished them. “Rex, firefly. A friend of mine took care of the cameras and arms. We’ve got the whole pce to ourselves.”

  Aldon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You even have contacts for this kind of thing. Unbelievable.” He adjusted his jacket with a sigh, shooting Dabi a pointed look. “This is the second time you’ve dragged me into illegal activities, Touya. You do realize you’re corrupting me, right?”

  Dabi, who was effortlessly picking the lock of an employee entrance, barely looked up. “Please, firefly,” he drawled, pushing the door open with a smirk. “You were never that innocent to begin with.”

  Aldon scoffed. “Compared to you? I’m a damn saint.”

  Dabi snorted, slipping inside first and motioning for Aldon to follow. “C’mon, firefly, live a little. Besides, I figured you’d like this. You’re a vegetarian; you must love animals.”

  Aldon narrowed his eyes. “And why is that?”

  Dabi gnced at him over his shoulder again, a zy smirk tugging at his lips. “You don’t eat them, so I figured you prefer looking at ‘em.”

  Aldon blinked before letting out an amused huff. “So that’s your logic? That’s not how that works.”

  Dabi smirked. “I dunno, seems like a solid theory to me.” He tilted his head, gaze flicking toward Aldon’s face for a second before looking ahead again. “Thought you’d appreciate it. Y’know, since you spent all of st night pying therapist with me.”

  Aldon’s expression softened slightly, the teasing lilt in Dabi’s voice doing little to mask the meaning beneath it.

  Dabi wasn’t good at expressing gratitude. He wasn’t the kind of person to say thank you outright—not for something like this, something that mattered. Instead, he did things like this—dragging Aldon into an adrenaline-fueled, ridiculous adventure under the cover of night.

  The moment they passed through the employee entrance—left conveniently unlocked by Dabi’s so-called friend—Aldon found himself pausing. The zoo was completely silent, save for the rustling of trees and the distant calls of nocturnal animals. It was surreal, being here without the usual crowds, without the chatter of visitors or the buzz of the daytime staff.

  Dabi stretched, exhaling as he turned to Aldon with an easy grin. “So, what do you wanna see first? The lions? The creepy-crawly section?”

  Aldon rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re acting like we’re on a date or something.”

  Dabi leaned in, his grin widening. “Who said this wasn’t a date?”

  Aldon flushed, shoving him lightly. “Shut up and take me somewhere.”

  Dabi snickered but obliged, leading the way through the dimly lit pathways. The overhead lights were off, but small decorative mps cast soft glows near the enclosures, creating an almost dreamlike atmosphere.

  Dabi led Aldon toward a dimly lit building with a sign that read Reptile Exhibit first. He pushed open the unlocked door and slipped inside, motioning for Aldon to follow.

  The reptile house was warmer than the outside air, the humidity controlled to mimic the natural environments of its inhabitants. The scent of damp moss and faintly musty air filled the space. The soft hum of heat mps buzzed overhead, casting golden glows over enclosures lined with lush foliage, twisted branches, and still pools of water.

  Dabi strolled casually down the row of enclosures, his gaze flicking over the creatures inside. “Damn, some of these look like they could eat a whole person.”

  Aldon chuckled. “That’s probably why they’re locked up.”

  They wandered deeper into the exhibit, moving past smaller enclosures filled with colorful geckos, slithering vines of tiny tree snakes, and a massive terrarium housing a crocodile that barely stirred beneath the surface of a still, murky pond.

  Aldon’s steps slowed when they approached a particurly rge enclosure, housing a huge albino Burmese python draped zily over a thick branch. Its pale yellow scales shimmered under the heat mp, and its slow, methodical movements were almost hypnotic as it adjusted its coils.

  Dabi nudged him with an elbow. “You’re not gonna freak out, are you?” He sounded way too entertained by the idea.

  Aldon scoffed. “I had a pet snake as a kid.”

  Dabi blinked, momentarily thrown. “Oh yeah. You mean the green one, right?”

  Aldon smirked. “Yep. Apple.”

  Dabi gave him a look, then burst out ughing. “Apple”

  Aldon crossed his arms. “It was a great name and I was seven, okay? I thought it was cute.”

  Dabi snickered, shaking his head as his gaze drifted to another tank where a rge monitor lizard y perched on a branch under the dim light. He let out a snort of amusement as he leaned against the gss enclosure. “Hey, it looks like Spinner”

  Aldon’s face immediately deadpanned. “Touya, no. ”

  Dabi ughed. “What? I’m just saying—”

  “No, you don’t compare people to reptiles,” Aldon scolded. “That’s so wrong.” Aldon pointed a firm finger at him. “Comparing a mutant to an actual snake is rude. Spinner’s a person. That’s different. Just because someone has lizard-like features doesn’t mean you compare them to zoo animals .”

  Dabi smirked, leaning closer. “I mean… technically —”

  Aldon groaned and smacked his arm.

  Dabi ughed harder, enjoying how easy it was to rile him up.

  Aldon’s expression immediately turned into a scolding gre. “Touya.”

  Dabi held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I’m sorry”

  Aldon only huffed, unbothered, nudging him forward out of the building. “Yeah, yeah. Come on.”

  Dabi, still grinning, followed him out into the cool night air once again.

  The otter exhibit was dimly lit, the soft glow of underwater mps casting rippling patterns across the water’s surface. The air was crisp but pleasant, the sounds of distant nocturnal creatures barely registering over the occasional spshes of the otters pying in their enclosure.

  Aldon leaned against the railing, his elbows resting on the cool metal as he watched the creatures below. A few of them were still awake despite the te hour, their sleek bodies gliding effortlessly through the water, little paws reaching out to pyfully bat at one another. A small pile of them had already settled on the rocks, curled up in a tight-knit bundle, their tiny chests rising and falling in sync.

  “They’re so cute,” Aldon whispered, eyes bright with quiet excitement as he watched them.

  Dabi, leaning zily beside him, scoffed. “Didn’t take you for an otter guy.”

  Aldon turned to him, lips twitching with mischief. “You know,” he began, his voice carrying that teasing edge Dabi had come to recognize, “they hold hands when they sleep so they don’t drift apart.”

  Dabi arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. “And?”

  Aldon smiled, a soft yet knowing look on his face. “Isn’t that adorable?”

  Dabi stared at him, his expression unreadable for a moment before he let out a short, dry ugh. “That’s the sappiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Aldon elbowed him lightly, undeterred. “Bet you secretly think it’s sweet.”

  Dabi rolled his eyes, shifting his weight against the railing. “Sure, firefly,” he drawled. “But I’m not exactly the ‘holding hands’ type.”

  Aldon hummed, tilting his head as he studied Dabi’s profile. The sharp edges of his face softened in the low light, his usual smirk barely visible but still lingering like an old habit. There was something in his tone, something unspoken beneath his casual indifference.

  Without another word, Aldon reached out and, with the same unwavering ease he handled fire, slipped his fingers into Dabi’s, threading them together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  Dabi went still. His fingers twitched slightly, instinct telling him to pull away—but he didn’t. Not this time. The warmth of Aldon’s skin against his was… unfamiliar. Not unwelcome, just strange. His mind whispered that he should smirk, make a joke, turn it into nothing. But instead, he just… let it happen.

  Aldon squeezed lightly, his voice gentle, amused. “Guess I’ll have to teach you.”

  Dabi exhaled sharply, his smirk flickering in and out of existence, before he muttered, “Cheesy.” But he still didn’t let go.

  They stood like that for a while, their hands loosely intertwined, watching as the otters floated on their backs, some of them indeed holding onto each other in their sleep.

  The night stretched on, cool and calm, but neither of them made a move to pull away. The silence between them was easy, comforting—undisturbed by the weight of the past or the uncertainty of the future.

  Once Aldon let go of Dabi’s hand, he gave him a smile and continued on with their adventure.

  The soft hum of the zoo’s nighttime ambiance surrounded them as Aldon and Dabi continued to wander past rows of darkened enclosures. Crickets chirped in the distance, and the occasional rustle of leaves from the gentle breeze was the only sound breaking the stillness.

  Aldon’s steps faltered when they reached a particurly rge exhibit. He stopped in his tracks, eyes drawn to the magnificent sight before him.

  A Bengal tiger, massive and regal, y sprawled across a rge rock inside its enclosure. The golden glow of the exhibit’s soft night lights bathed its fur in warm hues, making its bck stripes appear almost like cracks in fire-lit embers. It stretched zily, letting out a slow, rumbling yawn before rolling onto its back, paws dangling in the air, tail flicking absently against the rock.

  Aldon’s lips parted slightly, his expression softening with quiet admiration. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

  Dabi, who had been a step behind him, raised an eyebrow before grinning sharply. “Bet you wouldn’t go inside.”

  Aldon gave him a deadpan look. “I am not stupid.”

  Dabi chuckled, amused. “Good. I was hoping you had some self-preservation.”

  Still, Aldon took a step closer to the gss, hands pressing lightly against the cool surface as he observed the creature. The tiger, as if sensing his gaze, twitched an ear and lifted its head, its deep, golden eyes locking onto him.

  For a moment, the world felt quiet—as if the air had stilled between them. Aldon could see the raw strength in the tiger’s body, the way its muscles rippled beneath its fur, the effortless control in the way it moved. And yet, there was something almost… peaceful about it. This powerful beast, feared and revered, was completely at ease.

  The tiger let out a deep, slow exhale, then huffed—a low, rumbling chuff—before resting its head back down.

  Dabi, who had been watching Aldon more than the tiger, took the opportunity to slide up behind him. Without warning, he rested his chin lightly on Aldon’s shoulder, peering into the enclosure with a zy smirk.

  Aldon immediately stiffened. “Personal space?” he muttered.

  Dabi smirked against his skin, completely unfazed. “Nah, I’m comfortable.”

  Aldon sighed, exasperated but not shoving him off. “You have no sense of boundaries.”

  Dabi chuckled lowly, but he didn’t move. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, still watching the tiger. “Huh. I think it likes you.”

  Aldon’s brows lifted slightly before a small, knowing smile tugged at his lips. “They do that when they’re comfortable. It’s a friendly sound.”

  Dabi was quiet for a moment, his usual pyful air giving way to something more thoughtful. He eyed the tiger, its rexed posture, the quiet confidence it exuded.

  Then, with a smirk, he mused, “You know… kinda reminds me of you.”

  Aldon blinked, turning his head slightly to look at him. “What?”

  Dabi’s smirk deepened, a flicker of mischief in his sharp blue eyes. “Majestic, but dangerous.”

  Aldon rolled his eyes, shoving Dabi lightly away from his shoulder. “You are so full of it.”

  Dabi just chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned back slightly. “I mean, tell me I’m wrong,” he teased.

  Aldon shook his head but didn’t argue. Instead, he took one st gnce at the tiger, watching as it let out another slow exhale, completely unbothered by the world outside its enclosure.

  With a faint smile, he muttered, “Let’s keep moving.”

  Dabi matched his pace, the warm glow of the exhibit fading behind them as they wandered deeper into the quiet night.

  As they walked into a nearby building cold air inside immediately hit them, a stark contrast to the warmth of the night outside. Aldon shivered slightly, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets as he followed Dabi into the dimly lit building.

  Dabi, of course, strode in like he owned the pce, eyes flicking around with keen interest. The entire room was lined with thick gss panels, separating them from the artificially chilled habitat where a group of bck-and-white birds waddled, slid, and flopped about in their own little world.

  “The hell are you up to now?” Aldon asked suspiciously, watching as Dabi veered off toward one of the rger viewing areas.

  Dabi gestured grandly toward the gss, grinning smugly. “Behold, penguins.”

  Aldon blinked, then let out a small, amused huff as he stepped closer. The penguins were surprisingly active, waddling around with comical determination, their tiny flippers fpping as they shuffled across the ice. Some dove gracefully into the water, their sleek bodies cutting through like miniature torpedoes, while others simply… flopped onto their bellies and slid clumsily down the ice.

  Dabi leaned in, his breath fogging the gss slightly as he watched one particurly round penguin shuffle forward on its tiny feet. It hesitated, gnced at the ledge in front of it, and then dropped onto its stomach with an almost cartoonish thud, sliding forward before plopping straight into the water with a spsh.

  Dabi snorted loudly, covering his mouth with his sleeve. “Damn. They’re like little torpedoes.”

  Aldon smirked, shaking his head. “You’d think someone as fire-obsessed as you wouldn’t be so fascinated with ice birds.”

  Dabi shrugged, unbothered. “What can I say? I admire their chaos.”

  As if to prove his point, a few feet away, one particurly feisty penguin was having a standoff with another at the edge of the ice ptform. The first fpped its wings wildly, seeming to squawk something in protest, before violently smacking the other across the face. The second penguin—clearly not expecting this betrayal—stumbled backward dramatically and fell straight into the water.

  Dabi burst out ughing, gripping his stomach as he leaned against the railing. “See? Absolute menace.”

  Aldon couldn’t help but chuckle too. The absurdity of the situation—the te-night zoo break-in, Dabi cackling at violent penguins, the weird sense of peace that came from just being here—made him shake his head fondly.

  But then he noticed something. Dabi’s sharp blue eyes had shifted slightly, his smirk taking on a more devious edge as he tilted his head toward something just to their right.

  Aldon followed his gaze—and immediately felt his stomach drop.

  A small maintenance hatch.

  Aldon’s eyes widened in arm. “Oh no,” he said quickly. “We are not breaking into the penguin habitat.”

  Dabi grinned, taking a slow step toward the hatch. “Not all rules are meant to be followed, firefly.”

  Aldon lunged forward, grabbing Dabi’s wrist before he could reach for the lock. “And I’m putting my foot down on this one.”

  Dabi arched a brow, amusement flickering in his expression before he leaned just slightly closer, just enough for Aldon to register the shift.

  Aldon felt his face heat up instantly, recognizing that Dabi was pushing his limits—again.

  “And what if I don’t listen?” Dabi murmured, voice low and teasing, his breath warm despite the chill of the exhibit.

  Aldon’s mind bnked for a second. “Then I—” He struggled for an answer. “Then I’ll—”

  Dabi tilted his head, looking entirely too pleased. A slow, zy smirk curled his lips. “That’s what I thought.”

  Aldon groaned, shoving him back with a huff. “Just—let’s go before I lose all my morals.”

  Dabi chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he followed Aldon out of the exhibit. “You’re no fun, firefly.”

  Aldon shot him a pointed gre. “I’m plenty fun. Just not ‘break-into-a-penguin-habitat’ fun.”

  Dabi snickered, casting one st gnce over his shoulder at the feisty little birds, watching as yet another one got smacked into the water by its companion.

  “…I’ll be back for you one day, little menaces,” he muttered under his breath before striding after Aldon.

  They slipped back into the open air, making their way toward the more spacious enclosures. The zoo at night was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the usual bustling crowds. It was strangely peaceful. Eventually, they found themselves near the zebra enclosure. Dabi stopped, staring at the tall metal stable doors before gncing at Aldon with a sly grin.

  Aldon immediately tensed. “Touya. No.”

  Dabi pulled out a small picklock set from his jacket pocket and wiggled it between his fingers. “Touya, yes.”

  Aldon groaned, rubbing his face. “You’re going to get us arrested.”

  “Nah nobody will know we were here.” Dabi crouched by the lock and worked swiftly. Within seconds, there was a soft click, and the stable door creaked open slightly. Dabi turned back to Aldon with a smug grin. “Come on, firefly. Ever pet a zebra before?”

  Aldon’s eyes widened. “You cannot be serious.”

  Dabi was already kneeling in front of the stable’s lock.

  Aldon looked around in exasperation. “Touya. Touya . ”

  “Yeah, yeah, but rex, firefly. No one’s gonna know.” Dabi said, slipping inside first. He whistled lowly as they stepped into the dimly lit stable.

  The air inside the stable was warmer than expected, carrying the earthy scent of hay and the faint musk of the animals resting inside. The zebras stood in quiet clusters, some dozing, others zily flicking their tails or twitching their ears at the new intruders in their space. The occasional huff of breath filled the silence, the sound oddly soothing.

  Aldon took a cautious step forward, eyes darting around as if expecting a security guard to materialize out of nowhere. “This is the dumbest thing we’ve done yet,” he muttered.

  Dabi scoffed, stepping in completely unbothered. “Speak for yourself. This is my best work so far.” He whistled under his breath, hands tucked in his pockets as he eyed the animals. “Didn’t expect ‘em to be so big, though.”

  Aldon cast him a look. “Did you…think they were small?”

  Dabi shrugged. “I dunno, man. Stripes make ‘em look less threatening.”

  Aldon gave him a ft stare. “Right. Because stripes determine danger.”

  One of the zebras, apparently offended, flicked its tail sharply, stomping a hoof against the ground. The sudden movement made Aldon pause, instinctively holding out a cautionary hand toward Dabi.

  Dabi just grinned, shifting his weight onto one leg. “Rex, firefly. You scared?”

  Aldon shot him a look. “No. But if one of these guys kicks you through a wall, I’m not carrying your ass out of here.”

  Dabi snickered, but instead of retorting, he gestured toward one of the closer zebras, a gentle-looking one that stood a few feet away, watching them with curious dark eyes. “Well? Go on.”

  Aldon hesitated. Then, with a slow breath, he extended a hand, fingers hovering just above the zebra’s striped neck. He expected the animal to shy away, maybe even move, but it remained perfectly still, ears flicking slightly as if considering him. Finally, with a soft exhale, Aldon’s fingers brushed against the zebra’s coat.

  Warm. Bristly.

  He let his hand trail lower, brushing down the animal’s side. “Holy crap,” he breathed, a quiet smile pulling at his lips.

  Dabi, leaning zily against the stable wall, watched him closely, his smirk softening at the genuine wonder in Aldon’s voice. That look. He’d seen it before.

  That same light in his eyes, that quiet awe, like when he used to talk about being a hero as a kid. Like when they used to sit on Sekoto Peak, watching the fireflies blink in and out of the dark, dreaming of things that never happened.

  “Told ya,” Dabi murmured, watching the way Aldon’s fingers moved carefully, tracing patterns over the zebra’s fur.

  Aldon didn’t respond right away, too caught up in the moment. His fingers drifted lightly across the zebra’s shoulder, feeling the contrast between bck and white, before finally turning his head, a soft grin on his lips.

  “They’re beautiful,” he murmured.

  Dabi just nodded, his expression unreadable.

  Silence settled between them, comfortable, strangely weightless.

  Aldon pulled his hand back, watching as the zebra flicked its tail zily, seemingly unbothered by their presence. He turned to Dabi, raising an eyebrow at the way he was just staring at him.

  “What?” Aldon asked.

  Dabi blinked, snapping out of whatever thought had crossed his mind. “Nothing.” He pushed off the stable wall, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Just thinkin’ you might be in the wrong profession.”

  Aldon let out a short ugh. “Oh? You mean I should quit being a hero and become a zookeeper?”

  Dabi smirked. “I’m just saying, you’re better at this than punching people.”

  Aldon rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. “I think I’ll stick to my day job.” Then, after a beat, he added, “…But this was a good idea.”

  Dabi lifted a brow. “Oh? What was that?”

  Aldon sighed dramatically. “I said this was a good idea. Don’t let it go to your head.”

  Dabi’s smirk widened. “Too te.”

  Aldon exhaled, rubbing his temple dramatically. “Y’know, Touya… I think I actually was innocent before I met you.”

  Dabi snorted, crossing his arms. “Bullshit.”

  Aldon threw up his hands. “No, really. I used to follow rules, live an honest life. Then you come along, and now I’m going to the cinemas without a ticket and breaking into zoos in the middle of the night.” He narrowed his eyes pyfully. “This is entirely your fault.”

  Dabi just smirked, clearly pleased.

  For a while, they just lingered in the stable, neither rushing to leave. The air was calm, quiet, filled only with the occasional shuffle of hooves against hay and the low sounds of animals shifting in their sleep.

  For once, it felt like nothing else existed—no heroes, no vilins, no past they couldn’t change. Just them, the animals, and the adventure under the moonlit sky.

  The aquarium was eerily quiet at night as they walked in, the dim lighting casting a soft, almost ethereal glow across the exhibits. Water shimmered in wavering blues and purples, light refracting through the massive tanks that lined the walls. Schools of fish drifted zily behind the thick gss, their movements slow and hypnotic.

  Aldon stood near one of the rger dispys, hands resting against the cool railing as he watched a ray glide effortlessly through the water, its wings moving in slow, rhythmic motions. His expression was soft, thoughtful, as if he could stand there forever, losing himself in the gentle world behind the gss.

  Dabi leaned against a nearby pilr, arms crossed, eyes flitting zily between the fish and Aldon. He didn’t really care much for the fish—not that he’d admit—but the quiet atmosphere? The stillness of it all? It wasn’t bad.

  Then, something caught his eye.

  The shifting light from the aquarium flickered across Aldon’s face, casting soft reflections over his skin. The faint blues and greens from the water moved in waves, giving his scars a subtle contrast—like they weren’t imperfections, but something woven into the light itself.

  Dabi swallowed, his smirk fading into something else entirely.

  Why did he look like that?

  Aldon, standing there with his stupid, rexed expression—completely unaware of how the colors made him glow in the dim light. Like he belonged there. Like he was part of the scenery, something too soft for Dabi’s world.

  Something he shouldn’t touch.

  Dabi’s gaze trailed lower, following the way Aldon’s arms rested lightly against the railing, how his fingers tapped idly against the metal. The soft rise and fall of his breathing, steady and at peace. Even the way his white hair caught the glow of the surrounding tanks—it was… it was infuriating.

  And yet, something about it made Dabi pause.

  There was a strange tightness in his chest, something restless pressing against his ribs. He’d seen Aldon in plenty of different states—worried, annoyed, happy—but this? This was different. Too different. It wasn’t just that Aldon looked calm—it was that he looked whole. Like nothing in the world could touch him. And Dabi hated it. Or maybe… he didn’t.

  Without thinking, the word left his lips.

  “Beautiful.”

  Aldon visibly flinched, head snapping toward Dabi in confusion.

  Dabi was looking right at him.

  Aldon felt heat rush to his face, his entire body stiffening as his brain scrambled to process what had just happened. Did—Did Touya just—Was he talking about—?

  Dabi, meanwhile, froze.

  Oh. Oh, shit. He definitely said that out loud.

  Aldon’s cheeks flushed a deep red, his mouth opening slightly as if to speak, but no words came out. The color spread down his neck, burning at the tips of his ears. Dabi never complimented him. At least—not like that.

  Dabi’s own mind screeched to a halt as he realized his mistake. His eyes darted toward the nearest tank, scrambling for damage control.

  “—That fish,” he said, jerking his chin toward the first thing he saw.

  Aldon blinked. Still flustered. “…What?”

  Dabi, realizing he had absolutely said that out loud, recovered in the only way he knew how—pure, unshakable bullshit. He nodded toward the tank, his expression shifting into something that almost looked deliberate.

  “Yeah. That fish. Real pretty,” he said smoothly, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. “Great colors. Very… shiny. Kinda majestic, honestly.”

  Aldon turned slowly to follow his gaze—only to find a completely vacant-looking pufferfish staring dumbly back at them through the gss. It wasn’t majestic. It was barely alive.

  Aldon squinted. “…The pufferfish.”

  “Yep.” Dabi nodded, unbothered. “Majestic as hell.”

  Aldon narrowed his eyes, his earlier embarrassment temporarily repced by skepticism. “Majestic.”

  Dabi held firm, nodding once, his lips twitching to suppress a smirk. “Absolutely.”

  Aldon bit his lip, trying to hold back a ugh. The way Dabi was avoiding eye contact? The way his shoulders were just a little too tense? He was so full of shit.

  But… Aldon wasn’t going to push it. Not now. Not when his own heart was still racing.

  “…Alright,” Aldon finally said, fighting back a grin. “Majestic.”

  Dabi clicked his tongue, turning back to the fish like that had been the pn all along. “Damn right.”

  They stood there for a beat, silent, before Aldon let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.

  Dabi didn’t look at him, but he felt the warmth linger between them.

  Aldon exhaled, pressing his fingers against the railing again. He could still feel the heat on his face, but now there was something else. Something warm. Something unspoken.

  Dabi, meanwhile, kept his eyes trained firmly on the gss. But as the reflection of Aldon lingered in his peripheral vision—softly illuminated by the shifting blues and greens—he found himself fighting the urge to steal another gnce.

  They slipped back into the open air, the cool night breeze brushing against them as they made their way toward the zoo’s exit. The world outside was still and quiet, shadows stretching long across the pathways. The adrenaline of their adventure lingered, but it had softened into something warmer—something more vulnerable.

  Dabi walked alongside Aldon, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. His gaze stayed fixed ahead, though his thoughts wandered.

  As they stepped onto the quieter streets leading back toward Aldon’s apartment, Dabi broke the silence. "I’ll walk you back."

  Aldon gnced at him, brow lifting slightly. "You don’t have to."

  Dabi shrugged. "It’s te. Don’t want you getting mugged or something."

  Aldon snorted but didn’t argue, the smile on his lips saying enough.

  The walk wasn’t long, but it was quiet. Easy. Familiar in a way that unsettled Dabi more than he’d admit.

  When they reached Aldon’s apartment, the streetlight cast soft glows across the doorway. Dabi hesitated for a moment, then stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets.

  "Hey," he said bluntly. "Can I crash here? It’s te. Don’t feel like making the trip back."

  Aldon blinked but smiled softly, a hint of nostalgia in his expression. "Yeah. Of course. Come in."

  The warmth of the apartment wrapped around them as they stepped inside, a stark contrast to the cool night air. It was quiet, still, and familiar in a way that made Dabi’s chest ache.

  Aldon rummaged through a drawer, pulling out some clothes and holding them out. "Do you want to take the couch"

  Dabi took them with a simple nod. "Yeah. Sure."

  The words were automatic, simple, but the air between them felt heavier. Something unsaid lingering in the quiet.

  Once Aldon went upstairs, Dabi changed quickly.. The couch was cold when he y down, the fabric stiff beneath him. The only light came from the street outside, silver and soft, casting thin shadows across the ceiling.

  He y still, staring up, his body tense beneath the bnket. The quiet wasn’t peaceful. It pressed against him, heavy and sharp. Too loud. Too far from where he wanted to be.

  Time passed, slow and unforgiving. But sleep didn’t come.

  Eventually, he sat up, the bnket falling away. His feet hovered above the floor for a moment, as if debating the decision that weighed heavy on his chest. Then, silent and slow, he stood. His steps were light, almost cautious, as he moved through the darkened apartment and up the stairs.

  His hand hovered at Aldon’s door, fingers brushing over the wood. One breath. Then another. He pushed it open, the faint creak of the hinge cutting through the silence, but Aldon didn’t stir. Dabi stood there for a moment, watching him. Watching the peaceful, steady rise and fall of his chest.

  He stepped closer. Slow. Cautious. He wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t sure of anything, except that standing here felt heavier than staying downstairs.

  He eased onto the bed, careful not to shift it too much, careful not to wake Aldon. The sheets were soft, the warmth of Aldon’s presence seeping into the space between them. Dabi y still, watching, waiting. Listening to the quiet hush of night.

  Aldon stirred, a soft sigh escaping him as he shifted closer, his breath brushing warm against Dabi’s skin. His hand twitched slightly, fingers brushing against Dabi’s chest before settling. It wasn’t conscious, just instinct—seeking warmth, seeking comfort. Dabi froze but didn’t pull away. Instead, after a breath, he let his arm lift, wrapping gently around Aldon’s waist, holding him close.

  The touch was light. Careful. Barely there. But enough.

  He tilted his head down, nose brushing Aldon’s hair. The scent—clean, warm, unmistakably Aldon—pulled at something deep inside him. Familiar. Grounding. Dangerous in a way that comfort always was. His scent clung to Dabi like an old memory, one that made his chest feel full and empty all at once.

  Dabi’s eyes closed briefly, letting himself feel it. Letting himself stay in that moment. Then he lifted his head again, exhaling softly.

  That’s when he noticed it.

  Aldon’s hand. Resting gently against his chest. Warm. Unknowing. Trusting.

  And Dabi’s chest ached in a way that felt almost unbearable.

  His gaze lingered on the hand, unmoving, steady. And his mind circled, unwilling to let go of a memory that haunted him more than he wanted to admit.

  They hold hands when they sleep so they don’t drift apart.

  He remembered the way Aldon had said it. The way his fingers had ced with Dabi’s in the quiet of the otter exhibit. How easy it had been for him, how natural. And Dabi had let it happen, just like he was letting this happen now.

  But it wasn’t just instinct, was it? It wasn’t just sleep or habit. It was something more. Something terrifying.

  Because Dabi didn’t want to drift apart either.

  His throat tightened. His heart pounded in his chest. Slow. Heavy.

  His hand hovered, fingers twitching above Aldon’s. He swallowed hard, pulse thrumming painfully in his throat. His breath caught as his fingers brushed against Aldon’s skin—light, fleeting. Almost enough to pull away. But instead, he pressed on, sliding his hand beneath Aldon’s, fingertips trembling as they intertwined.

  He didn’t hold tight. He didn’t dare.

  But the contact was enough. Enough to tether him. Enough to let him believe, just for tonight, that it was okay. That it meant something. That it mattered.

  Dabi lingered, his thumb brushing gently over Aldon’s knuckles. A touch so light it could have been a dream.

  He closed his eyes, his forehead brushing against Aldon’s hair. The faint scent of shampoo, mixed with the warmth of sleep, settled into his senses—familiar and steady, like a memory he didn’t know he missed. He lingered, letting that warmth sink beneath his skin, grounding him. The quiet hope. The closeness he was almost too afraid to want.