Rough Hands - A T.ShigarakixReader Story

Talk.

You wake up slowly, your eyes slowly fluttering open. You'd had the strangest dream last night that Tomura had attempted to comfort you, his hands running over your leg to try and ease the pain. In your dream, he'd been able to touch you with all five fingers without flinching away from you once, without the searing pain that would run through your body underneath the skin whenever he did accidentally, or intentionally lay his whole touch on you.
Quiet sounds of a game being played beside you tells you he's awake, and you wonder why he hung around. Usually whenever he woke, he left. 

"Tomura?" You ask, turning over. Your leg was still aching ever so slightly but it was nothing compared to the pain you'd been in the night before.
He grunts a answer at you, not pausing his game or even turning to look at you. 
"Can we talk now?" You ask. You hadn't forgotten what you'd wanted to say to him, and for once, you weren't going to let him get away with it. Without Sensei around to keep him in order, and with Kurogiri struggling himself to keep him under control when needed, it left the task to you. 

He remains silent, continuing to play his game. The fact he hadn't said no or snapped at you meant he wasn't opposed to the idea, though. Just reluctant to actually agree to it. 
"I know you don't like Dabi, but you can't attack him like that, Tomura. He's strong. They all are. And we need them. Whether you like it or not. They've been good to us, so you need to be good to them." You say quietly, trying to talk to him in a less explosive way than last time. "You need to say sorry." 
"I'm not sorry." He responds carelessly.

You frown at the back of his head. 
God dammit. Why did you have to argue with him that time where he apologised and didn't mean it? 
As much as Dabi said he didn't care about what Tomura had done, you did. You really liked the others, the time you'd all spent together had only made your heart grow more and more fonder of them all. You knew as a leader, there was meant to be a little fear, but not fear for their lives over jokey comments that were more common than not.
"Fine." You mutter. 

You'd be a hypocrite to tell him to apologise anyway. It went against the very few morals both of you had been raised with.
You let him carry on playing his game in silence, the volume of it getting a little louder now you were awake. Your eyes run down his back. His spine was a lot less visible than it used to be, and although his ribs were still showing, they were a lot less prominent than they used to be. 
He looked healthier.
You wonder if you looked healthier to other people too. 
You scoot closer to him, heat beginning to pool in your stomach as you looked him over.

He pauses for a second, his head turning ever so slightly to peer at you behind his hair.
You keep your eyes away from his own as you tuck your body behind his own, laying your arm over his side. 
"What are you doing, Y/N?" He asks gruffly.
"I'm cold." You lie, not wanting to admit you were feeling a little turned on. Especially when you hadn't gotten to the crux of his problem yesterday. You didn't want to benefit him when he hadn't recognised he'd done something wrong. "What was wrong with you yesterday?"
He falls silent again, as expected.

You run your hand from where it was on his stomach up to his chest slowly, taking in the one irregular breath that leaves him.
"Stop touching me." He grumbles. "You're distracting me." 
You hum, pressing your face into his back and running your hand back down again. "I'll stop when you tell me what your problem was yesterday. I don't think you really want me to stop though, do you Tomura-chan?" 
You expect him to get mad at the cooing of 'Tomura-chan', but he doesn't. He just remains quiet, tapping away at his phone. 
You run your fingers up to his chest again, pressing your body harder to his.

Theres a grumble from him before he puts the phone down.
"Everything's going wrong. It's like this is a really hard level that I can't win." Tomura hisses. "I can't destroy the police or heroes when they come because that won't solve anything. The others haven't brought in any new recruits. Dabi keeps annoying me."
It was the most you'd heard him speak in what felt like years. Especially about his own feelings. You can't help but hang on to every word he said as he clawed at his neck, trying to think of ways to make it better for him. To soothe him somehow.
If Tomura even could be soothed.

You press your lips against his back, squeezing the arm wrapped around him tight in a quick hug. Something you'd never really done since you were kids. 
"You're doing a good job, Tomura." You say softly.
His entire body freezes underneath your touch, and it doesn't go amiss. Despite the intimacy you'd begun to share recently, it was rare for you both to touch each other in such a soft way. 
"You just need to be nicer to the others." You add, squeezing him again. "Things'll work out. They always do. We work well together after all don't we?"

He remains still, silent, and you wish you could see his face.
"Remember when we tried to put salt in Senseis drink?" You ask softly, opening your eyes against his back, your eyelashes dragging over his skin. 
"He was mad." Tomura says, finally. His voice was as quiet as yours.
"But we did it." You remind him. "And it was nearly impossible." 
He falls silent again, leaving you to hold him like he never usually allowed you to, you practically wrapped around him like some kind of koala.
"I want to kill Kenji." He spits, finally. "Then I'll feel better." 

"Kenji?" You parrot. "Why?"
"I didn't like how he spoke to you." Tomura responds bluntly. "And his Quirk pissed me off."
That was it? That's all he wanted to kill Kenji over? To the point he was sending Dabi to dodgy clubs to deal with the seedy man Kimura?
You hum quietly, mulling over what that actually meant for you, your hand running up and down his stomach and chest again as he silently fumes.
You dip your fingers under the waistband of his sweats ever so slightly, not expecting the feeling of his stomach arching in like he'd taken a sudden breath.

"Thank you for talking." You whisper, kissing his back again, sliding your entire hand into his sweatpants and running a finger up his already hard length. "You should do it more often."
"Stop teasing." He growls, but makes no effort to move away from you or get you to stop touching him.