[he can bet his chainsaw ass bakugou's been paying attention to denji taking care of himself since they got closer. brushing teeth, fixing hair, eating good meals, showering off, etc. doesn't mess with his damn sleep schedule because that's denji's issue. so long as the blonde doesn't interrupt bakugou's slumber. it's not like he makes it obvious, what with his grumpy way of yanking the other boy's jacket zipper up during cold days or shoving a bottle of water into his face when they're patrolling on hot days or yelling at him to get in the shower when he comes back a sweaty reeking mess. no one would think that's giving a shit about someone, right? whatever. denji might have the half-devil's ability to keep himself in physical prime, but he can still learn to take better care of himself. especially if he's going to be the dumbass that wants to make sure his friends are fine while ignoring his own body.
there's a quiet sense of satisfaction and comfort that comes from giving denji these simple pleasures in life. he'll never be able to relate to the reality of homelessness or orphaned loneliness. but seeing the smile on his boyfriend's face, the way he relaxes when he's soaking in a bath, resting on a bed, eating a homecooked meal, or wandering around a store to shop with his own money, never fails to remind the blonde of where the other boy came from. he can't erase denji's painful past, but damn if bakugou doesn't want to give him as amazing a present and future as he can.
even if that means teasing him by playing dirty.]
uh-huh.
[that's all he's gonna bother with. no point in distracting his boyfriend from his job any further. but that does mean he has to do what he said. ugh. it's hot. even in the dorms. leaving his bed with a grimace, he cracks his knuckles and gets on with his plan. by the time denji arrives back to the dorm, bakugou's just coming out of the kitchen with a plastic bag dangling from his hand. red eyes flick to the side, noticing his bedraggled beau squishing through the foyer arch with plenty of carry-on stuffed against his ribs. dinner in one, and something else in the other. even the white glow of overhead lighting makes denji's sweat-slicked skin glisten with a white streak following the curve of his cheekbones and bridge of his nose. not a really fair move, loosening his tie like that and flicking the damn buttons to expose his throat and collar.
yeah. they are public now. yeah. there are others in the common room. no. denji's not getting that last one out here in public. not on his fucking life.]
Don't walk in here shouting demands, Ripcord Pecs! The bath's not even in here! [whereupon he's swinging by to scoop both bags off the table and jerking his head to the side to tell denji to follow him.] This way, Sweat Stain.
[a welcome kiss will be given in the bathroom. which also includes said cold bath, a pitcher of ice and water, and a little frozen treat of ice cream salvaged from one of the stores earlier on. it's not todoroki's heavenly ice wall to glaciate the entire room, but it should be soothing enough.]
no subject
there's a quiet sense of satisfaction and comfort that comes from giving denji these simple pleasures in life. he'll never be able to relate to the reality of homelessness or orphaned loneliness. but seeing the smile on his boyfriend's face, the way he relaxes when he's soaking in a bath, resting on a bed, eating a homecooked meal, or wandering around a store to shop with his own money, never fails to remind the blonde of where the other boy came from. he can't erase denji's painful past, but damn if bakugou doesn't want to give him as amazing a present and future as he can.
even if that means teasing him by playing dirty.]
uh-huh.
[that's all he's gonna bother with. no point in distracting his boyfriend from his job any further. but that does mean he has to do what he said. ugh. it's hot. even in the dorms. leaving his bed with a grimace, he cracks his knuckles and gets on with his plan. by the time denji arrives back to the dorm, bakugou's just coming out of the kitchen with a plastic bag dangling from his hand. red eyes flick to the side, noticing his bedraggled beau squishing through the foyer arch with plenty of carry-on stuffed against his ribs. dinner in one, and something else in the other. even the white glow of overhead lighting makes denji's sweat-slicked skin glisten with a white streak following the curve of his cheekbones and bridge of his nose. not a really fair move, loosening his tie like that and flicking the damn buttons to expose his throat and collar.
yeah. they are public now. yeah. there are others in the common room. no. denji's not getting that last one out here in public. not on his fucking life.]
Don't walk in here shouting demands, Ripcord Pecs! The bath's not even in here! [whereupon he's swinging by to scoop both bags off the table and jerking his head to the side to tell denji to follow him.] This way, Sweat Stain.
[a welcome kiss will be given in the bathroom. which also includes said cold bath, a pitcher of ice and water, and a little frozen treat of ice cream salvaged from one of the stores earlier on. it's not todoroki's heavenly ice wall to glaciate the entire room, but it should be soothing enough.]