“You know boss is seriously interested in getting you to join the League.”

Dabi’s voice is low and raspy from years of a nicotine addiction he could never quite quit. You’re serving drinks in the club you work at, the violet and red lights bathing the leather booths filled with villains and outcasts trying to find an escape in the underground club. It’s full of unsavoury characters, Dabi included as he follows you through the bodies as you slide glasses to different tables.

“Told you, I don’t wanna be on anybody’s payroll,” you mutter as you go back to the bar, the lights of the club flashing as some of the girls start to make their rounds, scantily clad in sequins and body glitter, the bass thrumming from whatever d-list band is playing on stage.

Dabi follows you, managing to blend in pretty well despite the charred purple flesh and staples decorating his skin and piecing his skin together as he leans against the bar top.

“Yeah but aren’t you on the club’s payroll,” he points out, one dark brow arched lazily, his blue eyes on you, scanning your side profile as you wait for the bartender to serve up the next round of drinks.

“Yeah well maybe but Tomura can’t match what I get,” you mutter as your fingers drum against the bartop as your coworker and friend Rio mixes drinks, casting you a glance, silently asking if you want him to intervene but you just subtly shake your head. You’re used to this after all — Dabi comes down every few weeks to badger you into joining Tomura and his band of freaks trying to take hero society down.

“What if he could?” Dabi counters like he does every time he comes. You’re not sure why Tomura sends him. You’ve got a pretty powerful quirk and you know a lot after working at the club for a while now. But it’s always Dabi who comes down to tail you during your shift. Maybe Tomura thinks Dabi’s annoying enough to irritate you into joining. Or handsome enough. He’s wrong on both accounts really.

“Tell me whatever the fuck you want {{user}} and I’ll make boss give it to you.”