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Date: 6/2/24 23:17 (UTC)( just for that one, he angles his free arm out, another little flick of the end of the cigarette to cast a sprinkle of ash on the floor. he's going to burn up the damn thing before he even gets his nicotine fix, but whatever, it's worth it just to piss off bakugou. dragging it back to his lips, he leaves it there for a moment, taking in a small inhale.
despite the fact that this isn't the first time they've fucked around, he still finds himself without any of those feelings that he's sure he's supposed to have. it would be better to take bakugou as a hostage again, maybe, but that would be pointless. it's not like their little intervention had done anything or changed anything, except maybe convinced shigaraki not to try something so stupid again; still, he's sure that their precious leader would rather that he put an end to bakugou's short life than hang around with him in the middle of the night in the fucking suburbs. doesn't matter to him, anyway. he doesn't feel the need to kill him, doesn't feel the need to drag him back to the league, either. not right now.
is he supposed to feel other things, then? some sense of possession, or affection, or anything like that? it's hard to say when those things burned right out of him, whether that had been done by endeavor's hand or his own, or by the fires of his funeral. but it feels strange, when bakugou's arm stretches across him, fingertips touching idly along his side. some people might find comfort in that; some people might find that achingly romantic.
he takes another drag of his cigarette, and moves his own arm. he would say it's for comfort, but the way that it stretches out along the pillows, above bakugou's head, also says something in its silent invitation. )
You'll regret it. Sleep in too late and I'll be gone before you realize it.
( another slow exhale, smoke that plumes up towards bakugou's ceiling. )
I guess this is something nice, in its own way. I get it.
no subject
Date: 6/8/24 03:42 (UTC)how stupid it is to lie here with little worry for his safety. this bastard could easily try to capture him again. but there'd be no point now. they know he's incorruptible and he knows how to fight them better. no, the worry he feels lies for his home. pissing dabi off here could result in a fight and flame. then again, perhaps the same applies to the villain. any moment could be his last, with a herd of heroes and cops descending from nowhere. but that would also be stupid... and his house would get demolished. all it would do is prove to dabi heroes are the same selfish, treacherous, lying, callous bastards he thinks they are. as much as he'd love to stop the villain from causing anymore trouble in his life, he can't betray the man's tiny extension of trust. dabi hasn't betrayed his.
just annoys the fuck out of him on purpose though. prick.
not enough to keep his arm away. reached across dabi's torso and left there to hold him. what else does he feel for the man? there are a number if he's honest with himself. unspoken, silent, locked up. yet as that street-worn arm arcs overhead to rest on the pillows, he takes the unspoken invitation and slides in close to him. the ac kicks on, the fan overhead turns the air as it begins to cool the room down, and he rests against dabi's side, head on the pillow near him. being able to rest like this with him is stupid... but it's pleasant in a twisted way. brushing his fingers along the man's ribs and side in absent thought, he scoffs at his comment.]
I'll wake up before you. [says it so sure too. villains tend to move in the dark. but 5:30 is a weird time for them to be up. more often returning from nefarious actions to settle into hiding again for the day. he's not sure he will wake up that early; no alarms are set since he wants dabi to sleep as long as he needs to.] Hmph. Yeah. Not everything's shit around you.
no subject
Date: 6/9/24 21:23 (UTC)( there's a thread of humor in his voice, but it's hard-won and tired, a little raw, a little exhausted. it's easy enough to keep up his attitude when it's the only thing sustaining him throughout the long days and nights, waiting for the end, waiting for his absolution, waiting for everything to line up just right, for endeavor to suffer so horribly that he's satisfied with his death. there's nothing else to life but that. going along with the league's plans, every once in awhile, is fine enough, and he's fine with the idea of chaos as a concept, fine with torching the world, fine with burning the whole of society down to nothing. but there's no feeling, no pleasure to be found in a good meal, a good drink, a good fuck. they're enjoyable in their own rights, but he'll never be a person that can find happiness like that again.
happiness doesn't exist. for a reject, for the trash that endeavor forgot to sweep into the dustpan. and the kid pressed up against his side, now, settled and warm, has all of those things.
for now.
who knows what the world will be like. he wants to think that it'll be destroyed, by the time he dies, that he'll explode out the last of it, that everything will lie in ruins and decay, and that toga himiko will smile, and that shigaraki tomura will have everything he wanted, all of that vindication, all of that pain at his fingertips. compress will still tell everyone his dramatic stories, and spinner will still try to find some justice in his actions, and the heroes will be dead. maybe bakugou will be dead. or maybe not.
does that make moments like this better, or worse? the dredges of his cigarette start to burn out, his drags too long, and eventually he snubs it out against the side of his stomach, rubbed into the torched skin there before he tosses the butt onto the bedside table. at least bakugou won't have to pick it up off the floor. his fingertips hesitate, before idling down against bakugou's bare shoulder, curled there, loose and light; his eyes lid, but he doesn't sleep. )
How long are you gonna do this, you think? ( it's idle: not the sort of tone that he takes when he's poking at him to start an argument. ) How much time do we have left to be like this? A month, two months, six months?
no subject
Date: 6/14/24 18:13 (UTC)[obviously different people think dabi has good points, else he wouldn't be where he is. but going into detail isn't something he's gonna do for the villain. it's late, they're tired, dabi's in his bed for the night, and he's not gonna risk it due to someone getting his attitude zinged. they're diametrically opposed despite the time they spend together. a man who doesn't care about the world burning around him versus a boy who would do so much to put out even smaller fires. if dabi had kept his vengeance only to endeavor, perhaps things wouldn't have gotten out of control. but instead, he made his problems, his family's problems, everyone's problem. what a stupid thing to do. that just invited way more potential interruptions and obstacles to his ambitions than he would've had otherwise. the worst part is, he still wants to save dabi, even if it's not his place to do so. perhaps he's too far gone, can never again experience happiness or satisfaction outside of his revenge. even now as he rests against the man's side with on arm over him, he knows this is little more than surface-level distraction at worst, and crap pretense at best.
dabi's disastrous dreams can go right back to the shitty ambitions of those other villains. he has no intention of letting the world come to ruin because a bunch of assholes don't want to take responsibility for their own poor choices. over time, he's had to accept the reality the heroes and their society made some fucking stupid choices as well. they're not perfect, villains have a point, hindsight is a cruel event. but crying over "if only" won't help anyone. destroying everything won't help anyone. they have to go forward and do better. some things uprooted, some things changed, so many things improved.
but destroyed and dead? ... no. you can't reach your hand out to someone who's gone. as much as he hates what villains have done, even what many heroes have done, as much as his human reaction wants some villains to die a horrible death for all their crimes... he won't give into that thinking. even if dabi refuses his hand, he'll reach out to him. albeit by knocking his fried brains out if they fight in the war and then cart his unconscious crispy ass to the hospital for treatment and whatever comes next.
maybe at some point in the future, dabi will be sleeping beside him again. less mad.
no comment about the villain putting his cigarette out against his scarred sight. that wasn't called for, idiot. but it's better than grinding it against the sheets or bedside table. tch. at the very least, since his room's been the home of a kid growing up who can make explosions in his hands, the scent of smoke isn't completely alien... he lets his eyes close as he rests against dabi's side, feeling the gentle settling against his shoulder. this is fine.]
Something's gonna break soon. [winter's over. spring is arriving. his time with dabi, the time they have to be like this, is coming to a close.] A month, maybe two.
[his rough voice carries a similar quiet tone. war's coming. the villains and the heroes. once it breaks out, nothing will ever be the same again. it'll happen before he graduates; he can feel that already.]
no subject
Date: 6/17/24 21:42 (UTC)( slow and quiet. he would say that's probably about accurate, that's probably about where his thoughts line up. it's not as though either of them are giving away secrets to the enemy; they both know what the other side is capable of, after all. even if he trusts bakugou to touch him and lay beneath him and tend to his wounds, he wouldn't trust him enough to tell him what shigaraki has been going through, or what the rest of them have been going through. just as he knows that bakugou wouldn't ever tell him what the hell is happening at UA or with any of the pro heroes. then again, if he wanted to know something badly enough, he could probably connive hawks into telling him.
with bakugou, things are oddly, weirdly--different. neither of them have ever taken this as a probing session, as some kind of way to scope out the enemy, to garner information the way that he fucking knows hawks is always just there to parrot things back to whoever the hell is listening. is it that they respect each other more? he's not sure he would admit to that, even if it were true. but he doesn't offer bakugou any leading questions, doesn't slam his arm down onto his throat and make demands. bakugou doesn't do anything like that, either.
it's strange, finding this safe middle ground. safe enough that he lets his eyes close, safe enough that bakugou can settle in against his side. his fingers drum, absently, against the shape of bakugou's shoulder, before sliding down further, dipping towards his waist, holding him there loosely. )
You wanna make a list? ( there's a little more amusement in his tone, this time, but it's still quiet, still relatively honest. ) Y'know. Like a bucket list of shit we oughta do before then.
( before they're on opposite sides, permanently. )
I'm guessing no one's gonna fuck you like I do, so you should get all your kinks out before you don't have anyone to tell them to.
no subject
Date: 6/21/24 00:15 (UTC)some screwed up part of him continues to want to save dabi, even if he knows that's not his battle to fight. so he lets him go each time and doesn't offer any real reason to make him run. getting to sleep beside him is stupidly nice for whatever reason. flickers of doubt and questions flit in his mind at odd times, wondering why the hell he bothers, what he hopes to accomplish, and he ignores them. listening to dabi's breaths, feeling his chest rise and fall under his arm is enough. it means he's alive. it means there's still a chance. thoughts he'll never say to the bastard.
his eyes fall shut as dabi drops his arm to his side. rather be dead in a coffin than admit to any cuddling, he's content with this. no tangling around him like a damn koala trying to trap him. only an arm to know he's there. fingers lightly wandering around the lower pair of ribs for no reason other than it's there.]
Tch. What the hell. Why not. [they don't have much time left and while dabi's never left him unsatisfied (unless he's being a dick and pauses) there are other things they could explore. he scoffs at the idea of someone fucking him like dabi, but it's not like they've had a lot of time to set up for weird or more explorative kinks.] Your ass at least once, dammit.
[what'd he expect him to say? handcuffs? ... maybe that's another one.]
no subject
Date: 6/30/24 21:51 (UTC)Yeah? You think you can handle that?
( it doesn't bother him, the idea that bakugou wants to be the one inside of him. it's never really mattered to him the way that he knows it matters to other people, never really been anything that caused crisis or worry, mostly because he's never really cared all that much about sex anyway, a pleasure that pales in comparison to the pleasure of seeing endeavor suffer. still, the idea is a little funny: they've fallen into some kind of rhythm, here, and every time, it's been bakugou in his lap, bakugou tensed around him to find release. never any kind of argument, never any kind of complaint from either of them: just the way that they collide together.
he's not rejecting the idea--but it wouldn't be right if he just nodded along in agreement. gotta jab the kid in the ribs a little.
there's another little laugh, considering, as he settles behind his lids, as though trying to think of his own list. anything that he wants to do, before he dies? honestly, he'd never even really thought of it, too focused on lining things up to get to the climax, the place he wanted to be. anything else he could have done with his life, anything else he wanted to do with his life, had been starkly absent from his plans. now that he's left with a few scant months to try to fill them, what could he possibly even ask for?
his fingers still, curved loosely around bakugou's waist. )
I want...A nice bed. Somewhere nicer than your house, or any of the other scummy places we've fucked. And takeout.
( why not have some play at normalcy? if nothing else, it would be hilarious. )
And I want it once, in the bath. Once, out in public, somewhere risky.
( another laugh: now he's just coming up with bullshit, but somehow, it's sort of fun. hard to say if he means it or if he just wants to rile bakugou up a little, like he does. it's not like the ideas aren't enjoyable in their own way. )
Once, with you dressed in something absolutely fucking awful. Like a maid outfit or something.
no subject
Date: 7/11/24 04:18 (UTC)Of course I can! You're not gonna burn it off!
[and he's damn sure he can make it feel good too. no matter the damage to dabi's skin, there are nerves inside that still work, should work. if they only have a short time left to indulge in some taboo and changes, at least once he'll show the bastard how it feels to be on the other end. though he hides that demand behind his pride, a stubborn crystal of feeling within it wants to hear and see dabi react to that kind of pleasure. not just being taken, but being wanted. to find out if he'll still cage him in with his arms and legs, or press up and cling to him as their bodies connect. dominate him? tch, that's part of it. there's more as well. even if he's the one that's usually riding dabi's lap or cussing and twitching beneath him. leaving marks...
if the man accepted without saying shit, he'd worry something was wrong with him. doesn't mean he's not gonna retort in his usual aggressive way. jackass. at least he's considering it. he better be.
what else does he want to do? for all his bravado and talk, the blonde's never given much thought to kinks or exploring sexually. especially with dabi. does he wanna risk more exposure to spice something up that's already a damn fire waiting to happen? he's been too busy otherwise to daydream about it. focusing on heroics, his academic studies, dealing with villains attacking and making a damn mess of everything.
and yet, he wants to do more with dabi. a man marching towards his death like that doesn't have much time left. the outbreak of war could very well be the last time he'll ever see him. red eyes narrow across dabi's chest as he rests beside him, arm draped over his stomach in a haphazard possessive, protective sort of hold.]
Tch, we're not going to a fucking love shack. [even if those place can be ridiculously opulent, it's not the kind of place he wants to take dabi.] I can get a hotel room or a resort apartment.
[the undercurrent of "normal" plays in the man's request. not some hidden crap in an alley, but a day or two where they can just do what a normal pair would do. nice bed, nice bath, takeout or cooking, maybe dabi can talk him into watching tv or some shit like that. properly ridiculous.]
We've already done it in the shower a lot! [the bath is a different beast altogether. and something the could easily make happen in the hotel or resort plans. an amused little scoff puffs across dabi's chest.] You wanna be pampered, don't you.
[ugh, public, somewhere risky. of course he'd come up with some kinda bullshit like that! the hero growls against the villain's chest and he flicks him off along his hip. yeah, he'll think about that one.]
Haa?! Now you're just spitting out crap!! [public was one thing, but now a damn maid outfit?! his face glows red hot despite the snarls.] I'm not wearing that! But I wanna do it in a vehicle once!
no subject
Date: 7/17/24 00:50 (UTC)( after all, why is cosplay any worse than being in the backseat of a taxi? everything is equally mortifying like that, though he doesn't much care himself; whatever they do, it won't ride on his shoulders for long if his plans follow through. it'll be bakugou that's forced to live with the memories--he won't have any memories, if he's dead. it's not really a thought that bothers him, as much as he knows it should: but then it's hard to explain to someone who fights so viciously for his own life, for his own dreams, who is powered by so much ego and a will to succeed, that he just doesn't have that kind of spark himself, anymore. what else could he hope for, at this point? the fire that endeavor had lit inside of him could never be replaced with anything but retribution, and it's not like he can go and become any kind of hero now.
there's a slow breath, measured, as he tallies up the ideas. it's not so bad for a list to start--hell, bakugou bringing up a nice hotel, or even a resort, some kind of weekend getaway, sounds like the kind of dangerous thing that would make someone actually feel excited, that would make something actually want for something in their life. he'd never really gotten the chance to do anything like that when he'd been younger: endeavor had been too busy to take them anywhere, despite all the money, and his mother would have never survived being trapped in such a confined space with him for so long. not to mention the rest of the kids.
he hates it, a little bit. the idea that bakugou can offer these things out like they're nothing. they'd probably mean nothing, right? if the war goes the way the heroes want it to, and it's the villains that end up wiped off the planet, then what? will bakugou think back on nights they spent, tucked into some plush apartment bed on the coast in the middle of nowhere, and feel sad? pleased? angry? justified?
his hand squeezes, slight, along bakugou's waist. )
Write it all down tomorrow. We'll do it all.
( in a slow, quiet mutter--he sounds more amused than disgusted with the idea. )
Might as well, anyway. Don't argue with me and shut your mouth. Sleep.
no subject
Date: 8/1/24 15:04 (UTC)[what?! does this guy seriously think he's vouching for fucking in a public taxi?! ugh, hell no! he was... gonna rent a car or something. besides, maid costumes are for girls. big difference. no matter what dabi's planning in that burned-up head of his, he's going to do his damnest during the upcoming war to make sure no one dies. does he think he'll be able to save all of them, hero and villain? no. he's not naive. but going in without a goal is foolish. besides, endeavor or todoroki will be handling dabi. this isn't his affair to meddle in, as much as he'd like to. with what tenuous trust he and the villain have between them, betraying that for the first and last time might ensure dabi never makes it to the war. it could save him... but there's no attempt to reach for the phone. he's never made plans to trap the man. does it make him a failure as a hero to stand by and watch dabi burn himself out, knowing he could have done something, anything, to prevent his tragic life from going further towards hell? ... yeah, it does. frustrating, knowing that he can't save a man so close to him. because dabi doesn't want to be saved. not by a hero. not from himself. stopping him like this would only drive him harder into his insane revenge. it has to be his family; they're the only ones who can put his fire on ice.
gazing across the man's chest, covered in his own shirt, he resigns himself to the reality he'll live with this guilt for he rest of his life. memories of dabi, a final run of kink and pleasure, escaping from the idea of hero and villain for a small moment of relief. he may not be able to save him, but if he can give this bastard at least a few moments of reprieve, it's something. who knows. the idea of another trip might distract dabi during the final war just long enough to stay his flames and provide endeavor or todoroki the chance to break though his madness. heh, what a shitty thought. and here he believed he'd grown up and left those idyllic fooleries behind.
if he could see into dabi's head right now, he'd punch him right in his damn skull. he means everything he's said to him since they started this! (except the childish death threats.) offering this retreat isn't nothing to him. he's got a lot to plan and do to make it happen without either of them getting screwed over by it. the war will come, heroes and villains will class, the winner takes all. some would call the heroes even more insane than the villains, as they'll do everything they can to save them, defeating them without wiping them off the planet, even though these bastards wouldn't give any of the heroes' lives a second thought. once the war's over, if the heroes win... he'll have to live with whatever occurred.
they all will. whether it brings joy, sorrow, relief, guilt, anger, calm, regret.
as dabi's hand chances a small grip at his waist, the blonde turns his head and rests it again the man's shoulder, leaving his arm draped across dabi's damaged body. his heart beat is still strong. his life is still there. he doesn't want to see him die. but... it's not his call.]
Don't order me around.
[it's fine. they can have this, their last fling. a final pretend on their trip to hell. a trip he has every intention of never completing. as his eyes close, he lets himself hope that dabi will likewise fail to succeed in his own mad dash. maybe in the future, they'll have more days and nights like this.]
Night.