Date: 8/2/24 06:53 (UTC)
blastedass: by bokunoicons @ tumblr (💥 Gross. Stuck with dipshits again.)
From: [personal profile] blastedass
[it's not unsightly. not to someone like katsuki who knows the stain of sweat means hard work leaking through the police uniform denji's still wearing. despite the heat of the day, it hasn't stopped the half-devil from serving in the job he and katsuki work at together. not always side by side, today being a day he had to help out in a separate area, resulting in his shift ending earlier than denji's. maybe it's not so bad because katsuki's stalked in from missions and training exercises a sweaty mess, grumpy and raging at anyone who dared talk to his sweat-soaked mess of a self. he knows the feeling. but it's also why he's quick to get denji moving. he's not going to get any cooler standing here in the kitchen without movi-]

Oy! [a leg swings out in front of him, momentarily halted by the sudden jerk on his arm. fuck! he looks back over his shoulder, knowing exactly what's coming despite himself. dammit, denji's really gonna be stubborn about this, isn't he? the blonde's lips curve down in a scowl. luckily he doesn't lose his grip on the bag, no one falls, and his eyes draw towards that damp collar the half-devil's tugging open. doing it on purpose? no clue. is it effective? yes. and this bastard probably knows that at least. but... he stops all the same. letting denji have his arm and hand as he wants. red orbs narrow as his hand's lifted and soon warm lips brush against the back of it. a romantic, feudal, stupid, touching thing that has the faintest of pinks dusting the curve of katsuki's cheekbones. dammit, this guy's not making his refusal any easier, is he. but if denji's not going to grab and make out with him right in the middle of this kitchen (this time) then katsuki's returning the respect by letting this intimate kiss pass between them, fingers curling slightly so denji gets to feel the narrow bones on the back of the blonde's hand flutter a little beneath his lips.]

Tch. Romantic dork. [what an insult. yet he doesn't attempt to wipe his hand off or anything, simply falls in step beside denji and lets their shoulders bump together in the hallway. get used to it, he says.] I didn't blast your face off, right?

[he's doing just that, getting used to it. akin to denji slowly adapting to the idea of having someone waiting for him, someone who cares about him enough to see to his health, comfort, and wants. the half-devil is far more successful in sneaking small touches when he's alone with katsuki. from kissing the nape of his neck to draping over his shoulders in a hug to tossing a leg or two over the blonde's lap while he's reading in denji's bed. PDA will take more time. or just the devil hunter putting up with screechy face over here whenever it happens. katsuki doesn't really ever give denji that firm "no" when it comes to his need for physical closeness. just grouches at him as he tolerates it, then either continues on or gets some childish "revenge" for embarrassing him. denji's far freer to get in katsuki's personal space than anyone else.

he glances down at the bag with their food on it, lifting it slightly in hand as if in indication.]
Nah. Figured we'd eat in the tub.

[which is a major compromise to the neat-freak bomber's usual ire over people eating outside the kitchen or making a mess on the common room couches. eating in the bathroom usually = gross, but on rare occasions, like these, there's an undeniable charm to its forbidden pleasantry.] I've got drinks in there already.
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