Aa. [he won't make denji promise what he's not comfortable vowing. heroes can make those vows in the face of pure impossibility if it means protecting the comfort of others. amidst a burning building, no way out, yet bracing between the flames and a family cowering behind, the hero promises it will be all right. why? because i am here. denji has a strength inside him that not even he can recognize completely. bakugou doesn't recognize it either, yet knows it's in there somewhere. a hero within no matter how much crap piles atop it. whether they're able to reunite or not, he refuses to believe their union here means nothing back home. even if ultimately nothing lasts but a faint whisper of encouragement in an unknown voice or the nostalgic sensation whenever a chainsaw roars. denji'll be there with him. and bakugou's not about to let him down, not after everything he's poured into their relationship. not when the half-devil looks up to him so much.
knuckles curl, fingers tighten, he takes denji's hand in his own and squeeze it. a soft grit of metal tremors through their ring fingers as the metal bands run together, a token promise to protect and care. bakugou leans into the kiss, head tilting and eyes closing. there's so much which could be said, yet nothing comes free, communicated between flesh and action instead. silence, stillness, until a gentle wet sounds denotes their lips parting and a faint ghost of tongue between their mouths hints at something more. for later. red eyes open and catch denji's tawny gaze. thankful, expressive, kind.
then brighter with a smile.]
You'd get bored if you didn't fight. [bakugou doubts his boyfriend would be long content with whiling his life here away behind some fast-food counter taking orders. he likes being chainsaw man and fighting too much. an ashen brow arches. oh really? the city's growing on him? hmph, somehow he's not surprised.] Keep talking like that and they'll start making more merchandise of you.
[and bakugou will buy it like the closet nerd he is. with a boyfriend.]
Haa?! You're the friendly guy, dammit! [are they really gonna compare presents? ugh. what a dork.]
[ will he get bored? — oh yeah. he enjoyed the thrill, the ecstasy behind all the blood spill, whether it's his own or his enemy, so bakugou is right about that. as for the merch, it would be nice to have them around, official ones and not the amature merch denji wasted his salary on, only for him to wear. ( sometimes, he'd force it on Kacchan, too. boyfriend rights). as they sat on the edge of the bed, shoulder to shoulder, denji's posture relaxed, his hands resting lightly in his lap. his eyes traced the other boy lazily, soaking in the quiet. the corners of his mouth held a soft, easy curve— more a trace of a smile than a full one, a reflection of the emotions he felt at the moment.
without hesitation, he leaned over, resting his head on bakugou's shoulder. the movement was fluid, natural, like it was something he’d done a thousand times before. his cheek pressed gently against the fabric of his top, and his eyelids fluttered closed; a deep sigh escaped him, not one of exhaustion but of quiet contentment, like exhaling the last remnants of a long day. ] You don't have to show me ... just tell me what you got. I wanna hear you talk about it.
[ -about their first holiday together. the gifts they received from the new friends they made throughout the year. this time last december, they had just made it to the city; they weren't even friends by then, they both slept in empty beds, so far apart and unsure of this new city. a lot has changed. it wasn't easy, they had some rough weeks, but they're still here. bakugou is still here with him. for now, he wants to keep his eyes shut and listen to his lover's voice, feel his body against his, and embrace the end of the year with the person he fell in love with.
also, yeah - denji is a little shit who wanted to know who's more popular. at least he's being 'cute' about it. ] It's nooooot a competition ...
[called it. bakugou's been privy to the occasional t-shirt bearing a strange "CSM" logo or some quick splash of denji's face upon it, a cheap mug designed to look like a chainsaw theme was attempted. they're not awful, but nothing as good as professional merchandise. that aside, it's no different for him, not wanting to wallow away in boredom without having a way to flex his strength and quirk. he wants to be a hero, not because he wants to never fight! he likes fighting, likes the thrill of a clash! becoming a police officer was the best way to retain his world's ambition here.
as denji seeps against him, bakugou's caught off guard momentarily, glancing to the side as his head tilts a bit. warm hair brushes his cheek, a warm cheek settles on his strong shoulder, denji's presence pushing to his body as the other boy leans onto him. not for support or need, but simply for comforting familiarity. fuck... why the hell is this guy so cute sometimes? it makes his chest flutter a little and bakugou tells that fluttering to shut the fuck up.
he grumbles in his mind before tilting his head, nuzzling into the half-devil's soft mop. pleasant. kinda fluffy too. one hand glides up behind them and bakugou cards his fingers through denji's hair up the back of his head. fingertips graze his scalp, curling and relaxing in gentle scratching motions as well as combing through for no other reason than to touch his boyfriend. this guy's like a big puppy sometimes. bakugou rolls his eyes where denji can't see it.]
Yeah, yeah. [and he will. about the things others got for him. from food to clothes to little trinkets to a goddamn punching bag. even about what denji gave him, yet talking like it was from some "stranger" because he wants to mess with his boyfriend. hey, he said tell me, right? a complete contrast to the "them" existing a year ago. something bakugou slowly realizes is the real reason denji wants to hear him talk. what a sap... so much has changed and he doesn't regret it. some things, but those are harder memories anyone wouldn't wish on someone they loved. as he talks and feels denji's warmth seeping into him, bakugou relaxes in the glowing morning sun, resting with his boyfriend on the bed.]
You made it a competition, Denji. [and he's never one to back down from it, hah.]
[ bakugou's fingers moved through his hair with ease, slow and rhythmic. fingertips grazed his scalp, combing through the strands, pausing occasionally to untangle a small knot or to curl a lock around their finger. the sensation was steady, hypnotic- full of silent promises. denji relaxed more, the tension that had clung to him all day dissolving with every pass of their hand. the soft, repetitive motion lulled him, a quiet assurance that the world outside could wait. his breathing slowed, each exhale longer than the last, his chest rising and falling in time with their touch. soon after, he opened his heavy lids — peering over the box bakugou had opened earlier, resting in a tidy pile on the dresser; even the way the hero preserved the wrapping gives a hint of how much he valued the gift. denji's hand grazed the other's knee as he shifted, his fingers tracing aimless patterns on the fabric of his pants, a habit more than a gesture.
it's been a good night - or, ah, morning. when did the sun come up? that pesky thing. his shoulders slumped a little more, the late night shift chaos fading into the gentle hum of shared space. he then yawned, and without words, denji turned slightly, nudging bakugou back toward the bed. an arm slipped behind his waist, guiding their movement with slow, measured care. the room quieted down to the soft rustle of sheets as they slumped together, limbs tangling naturally, finding a fit they always did. his head rested lightly against bakugou's chest now, rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breathing. as endearing as it is, it was also one way to restrain the other — by throwing his weight over him. he knew this early hour = bakugou's morning jog. an enemy of the half-devil. ]
I'll tell you about my gifts now ... [ more stunts to keep the hero trapped. he then proceeds by listing them down, and one thing is noted— a lot of the fellow outsiders tend to enjoy feeding this guy. the amount of sugary treats is insane, and the supply should last him a month. should! he did get other delights, a lot he can share with bakugou, date ideas and all. he didn't expect to get as many or for others to care enough. it's evident in his tone he was smiling the entire time, even when bakugou couldn't see it. he reached for the edge of the blanket, pulling it over them both as his eyes fell shut again. ]
Considering the amount of candies I got and counting them one by one, I totally won the popularity contest! [ that's not how it works, but denji is clearly messing around. ] Better luck next year.
[over and over, a quiet rhythm caressing through denji's hair. strands pull along the insides of his digits, on the small webs between his fingers, knots breaking with gentle encouragements, bangs carded backwards to bare his forehead before falling stubbornly into place over his brow once more. sensations capable of lulling the other boy to sleep as effectively as denji's able to send bakugou into slumber with a shoulder massage. he's tempted to melt this boy into his side until sleep comes. he returned not long ago from an all night shift after all. listening to his lungs easing breath into a soft pattern of in and out. nothing needs to come into this room for now, a respite without interruption for however long they want. it might be nicer to let denji find his rest and do a present review later. but someone's a stubborn brat and wants to stay awake long enough to have his challenge. fingers grip at his knee, playing marks and shapes into the material over his leg. and then there are times when denji is less puppy, more kitten. cat, given his lazy motions right now.]
Oy- [muscles cord and cable on his surprised grunt as he's all but clotheslined the softest way possible. wall becomes ceiling, rotating until his back connects to the sheets with a whump of bedding and long arm thrown across his belly. tch. denji might have come in from an all night job, but bakugou just woke up! he better not expect the blonde hero to go back to bed for a full "night" sleep beside him! yet denji settles beside him, slotting to his body in a familiar pattern that sees his warmth seeping into his ribs, obliques, hips, thigh, shoulder... warm boy. captured between two clingy arms, legs snared between two searching limbs. dammit. fine. a few minutes. once the half-devil's good and slumbering, bakugou will figure an extraction and go about his day.]
Without snoring. [taunt taunt. calling denji out on being both tired and a clingy menace to trap him in bed. good thing it's cold out there, making a warm bed and boyfriend far more tempting an indulgence than frozen jogs. ugh, so much sugar. denji's lucky he's a half-devil with regenerative health. cavities would be his stupid bane. slowly by slowly, his eyes fade, lids drifting downward with the lulling drone of his boyfriend's tired smiling voice. with no protest as blanket rises and falls over their bodies like the night settling over the city. fine... a few more hours. denji earned it.]
Che. That's cheating and you fucking know it. [said without heat or snarl. the half-devil's won both present popularity and a sleep in.] Next year, you're not gonna be on some shitty patrol either. [they'll be spending christmas night/morning together because their schedules are aligning tightly starting january. more "them" time.]
[ of course he didn't expect bakugou to spend the next 8 to 9 hours by his side, considering he had his share of sleep; he simply wanted them to enjoy their mornings with each other. there is something heartwarming about those hours that denji couldn't explain. the small space beneath the heavy quilt felt more like a sanctuary where those nasty thoughts could not shadow him. he lay on his side, muscles slack with exhaustion but taut with the ache of their physically demanding job. the winter months made it more troublesome— nothing but a blur of fluorescent lights and cold air slapping his face through the spaces between tasks. with that, denji deemed himself entitled to coax the hero into indulging him, a self-reward after working so hard. it was a luxury to shift a bit and squish his face against the curve of bakugou's neck, where it was extra warm and smelled extra nice, his breath brushing soft and shallow against his skin. ] Next year, we'll plan it better. I'll make it more special. I promise ...
[ the words sounds too damn forgien. when did he ever plan something so far into the future? he never even had the opportunity to have something that belonged to him that long, aside from his relationship with pochita. it felt like something out of a dream, nothing close to his reality. he curled closer, a sigh slipping from him without meaning to. his fingertips reached lightly to the curve of bakugou's hip, a touch that claimed rather than teased. he just hoped his hand wasn't freezing cold anymore as it slid up, brushing over the worn fabric of his boyfriend's shirt until his palm rested flat against his toned abdomen. the ardor beneath his fingers was soothing; it felt very human and real. he let his thumb graze absently over the skin with a touch so light it could have been accidental, though it wasn’t. ]
Thank you ... for staying.
[ he knew he tends to be clingy and needy, yet he couldn't help it. he lifts his head up and stares at a closeup of bakugou's profile, his sharp jawline, relaxed brows, and half-lidded eyes staring at the ceiling above. there's no desire for sleep behind them, he's a hostage — which should make denji feel guilty, but the little shit is smiling instead. he stayed there, staring some more, waiting until the hero blessed him by meeting his gaze, turning his head and expecting a 'what?' only for denji to lean in to kiss him. there is no rush to end this one; they're both nestled in their cozy cocoon. it remains soft but heavily intimate in its slow pace. ]
[nasty thoughts have no fucking place in their bed. with an arm around denji's stomach, or the other man's arm around his own, being together's bakugou's way of warding off the haunting images and thoughts seeking invasion in denji's mind. can he control his dreams or influence their images? no. but he likes to believe he can, as ridiculous as it is. sleeping beside denji in the cold mornings is far easier than waking up to his body sticky with sweat from a clinging warm body plastered to him under the covers. considering said warm body is almost half a foot taller than him. fucking giant. bakugou shivers from a chill nose nuzzling into the heat of his neck, instantly cranking his head to the side and pinching said nose in his neck's curve. a hiked shoulder helps clamp denji's face within the heat until bakugou's body warmth and the half-devil's breath chases chill from his pointed cherry. a grumbles something into his boyfriend's temple-]
Shut up. You made it special enough.
[next year's already taken care of the second bakugou levied their station with schedule changes. no, it was not a request; it was a notice. only two days a week are they working separate shifts, if needed. the rest of the time, bakugou's working alongside his boyfriend. they take their time off together for the majority of the week. simple as that. if they want more coverage, hire more outsiders or improve the police force's efficiency. as denji curls closer, bakugou settles against him, relaxing under the covers in the warm glowing beneath their blanket. ironically his fingers aren't as icy as his nose, so there's no blasting or grabbing to keep his digits off the hero's hips. wearing sweatpants helps. not so much as his hand settles on his abs instead. colder than his hips. he claps a hand over denji's, lacing fingers to keep said digits fisted in his own and off his skin until they're comfortably warmed up. hmph.]
Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep. [bakugou tilts his head and nuzzles a kiss into denji's hair, never minding shaggy sandy ruffling at his nose and mouth. over time, he's adjusted to his boyfriend's clingy nature, slowly permitting occasional elbows on the shoulder, later accepting a hug when he's busy, followed by draping, and ultimately accepting octopus clings during nighttime sleep. as their heads tug apart, he ducks his chin and turns his head to the side, red eyes lingering on his boyfriend's visage. tch, little shit doesn't feel a shred of guilt for trapping him.] Mhn-!
[kiss. brat. jaws, brows, eyes, everything relaxes into denji's mouth, sinking their touch and relaxing as he settles beside the other boy. this is fine. a welcome christmas morning.]
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blastedass) wrote2020-08-08 04:37 pm
no subject
knuckles curl, fingers tighten, he takes denji's hand in his own and squeeze it. a soft grit of metal tremors through their ring fingers as the metal bands run together, a token promise to protect and care. bakugou leans into the kiss, head tilting and eyes closing. there's so much which could be said, yet nothing comes free, communicated between flesh and action instead. silence, stillness, until a gentle wet sounds denotes their lips parting and a faint ghost of tongue between their mouths hints at something more. for later. red eyes open and catch denji's tawny gaze. thankful, expressive, kind.
then brighter with a smile.]
You'd get bored if you didn't fight. [bakugou doubts his boyfriend would be long content with whiling his life here away behind some fast-food counter taking orders. he likes being chainsaw man and fighting too much. an ashen brow arches. oh really? the city's growing on him? hmph, somehow he's not surprised.] Keep talking like that and they'll start making more merchandise of you.
[and bakugou will buy it like the closet nerd he is. with a boyfriend.]
Haa?! You're the friendly guy, dammit! [are they really gonna compare presents? ugh. what a dork.]
no subject
without hesitation, he leaned over, resting his head on bakugou's shoulder. the movement was fluid, natural, like it was something he’d done a thousand times before. his cheek pressed gently against the fabric of his top, and his eyelids fluttered closed; a deep sigh escaped him, not one of exhaustion but of quiet contentment, like exhaling the last remnants of a long day. ] You don't have to show me ... just tell me what you got. I wanna hear you talk about it.
[ -about their first holiday together. the gifts they received from the new friends they made throughout the year. this time last december, they had just made it to the city; they weren't even friends by then, they both slept in empty beds, so far apart and unsure of this new city. a lot has changed. it wasn't easy, they had some rough weeks, but they're still here. bakugou is still here with him. for now, he wants to keep his eyes shut and listen to his lover's voice, feel his body against his, and embrace the end of the year with the person he fell in love with.
also, yeah - denji is a little shit who wanted to know who's more popular. at least he's being 'cute' about it. ] It's nooooot a competition ...
no subject
as denji seeps against him, bakugou's caught off guard momentarily, glancing to the side as his head tilts a bit. warm hair brushes his cheek, a warm cheek settles on his strong shoulder, denji's presence pushing to his body as the other boy leans onto him. not for support or need, but simply for comforting familiarity. fuck... why the hell is this guy so cute sometimes? it makes his chest flutter a little and bakugou tells that fluttering to shut the fuck up.
he grumbles in his mind before tilting his head, nuzzling into the half-devil's soft mop. pleasant. kinda fluffy too. one hand glides up behind them and bakugou cards his fingers through denji's hair up the back of his head. fingertips graze his scalp, curling and relaxing in gentle scratching motions as well as combing through for no other reason than to touch his boyfriend. this guy's like a big puppy sometimes. bakugou rolls his eyes where denji can't see it.]
Yeah, yeah. [and he will. about the things others got for him. from food to clothes to little trinkets to a goddamn punching bag. even about what denji gave him, yet talking like it was from some "stranger" because he wants to mess with his boyfriend. hey, he said tell me, right? a complete contrast to the "them" existing a year ago. something bakugou slowly realizes is the real reason denji wants to hear him talk. what a sap... so much has changed and he doesn't regret it. some things, but those are harder memories anyone wouldn't wish on someone they loved. as he talks and feels denji's warmth seeping into him, bakugou relaxes in the glowing morning sun, resting with his boyfriend on the bed.]
You made it a competition, Denji. [and he's never one to back down from it, hah.]
no subject
it's been a good night - or, ah, morning. when did the sun come up? that pesky thing. his shoulders slumped a little more, the late night shift chaos fading into the gentle hum of shared space. he then yawned, and without words, denji turned slightly, nudging bakugou back toward the bed. an arm slipped behind his waist, guiding their movement with slow, measured care. the room quieted down to the soft rustle of sheets as they slumped together, limbs tangling naturally, finding a fit they always did. his head rested lightly against bakugou's chest now, rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breathing. as endearing as it is, it was also one way to restrain the other — by throwing his weight over him. he knew this early hour = bakugou's morning jog. an enemy of the half-devil. ]
I'll tell you about my gifts now ... [ more stunts to keep the hero trapped. he then proceeds by listing them down, and one thing is noted— a lot of the fellow outsiders tend to enjoy feeding this guy. the amount of sugary treats is insane, and the supply should last him a month. should! he did get other delights, a lot he can share with bakugou, date ideas and all. he didn't expect to get as many or for others to care enough. it's evident in his tone he was smiling the entire time, even when bakugou couldn't see it. he reached for the edge of the blanket, pulling it over them both as his eyes fell shut again. ]
Considering the amount of candies I got and counting them one by one, I totally won the popularity contest! [ that's not how it works, but denji is clearly messing around. ] Better luck next year.
no subject
Oy- [muscles cord and cable on his surprised grunt as he's all but clotheslined the softest way possible. wall becomes ceiling, rotating until his back connects to the sheets with a whump of bedding and long arm thrown across his belly. tch. denji might have come in from an all night job, but bakugou just woke up! he better not expect the blonde hero to go back to bed for a full "night" sleep beside him! yet denji settles beside him, slotting to his body in a familiar pattern that sees his warmth seeping into his ribs, obliques, hips, thigh, shoulder... warm boy. captured between two clingy arms, legs snared between two searching limbs. dammit. fine. a few minutes. once the half-devil's good and slumbering, bakugou will figure an extraction and go about his day.]
Without snoring. [taunt taunt. calling denji out on being both tired and a clingy menace to trap him in bed. good thing it's cold out there, making a warm bed and boyfriend far more tempting an indulgence than frozen jogs. ugh, so much sugar. denji's lucky he's a half-devil with regenerative health. cavities would be his stupid bane. slowly by slowly, his eyes fade, lids drifting downward with the lulling drone of his boyfriend's tired smiling voice. with no protest as blanket rises and falls over their bodies like the night settling over the city. fine... a few more hours. denji earned it.]
Che. That's cheating and you fucking know it. [said without heat or snarl. the half-devil's won both present popularity and a sleep in.] Next year, you're not gonna be on some shitty patrol either. [they'll be spending christmas night/morning together because their schedules are aligning tightly starting january. more "them" time.]
no subject
[ the words sounds too damn forgien. when did he ever plan something so far into the future? he never even had the opportunity to have something that belonged to him that long, aside from his relationship with pochita. it felt like something out of a dream, nothing close to his reality. he curled closer, a sigh slipping from him without meaning to. his fingertips reached lightly to the curve of bakugou's hip, a touch that claimed rather than teased. he just hoped his hand wasn't freezing cold anymore as it slid up, brushing over the worn fabric of his boyfriend's shirt until his palm rested flat against his toned abdomen. the ardor beneath his fingers was soothing; it felt very human and real. he let his thumb graze absently over the skin with a touch so light it could have been accidental, though it wasn’t. ]
Thank you ... for staying.
[ he knew he tends to be clingy and needy, yet he couldn't help it. he lifts his head up and stares at a closeup of bakugou's profile, his sharp jawline, relaxed brows, and half-lidded eyes staring at the ceiling above. there's no desire for sleep behind them, he's a hostage — which should make denji feel guilty, but the little shit is smiling instead. he stayed there, staring some more, waiting until the hero blessed him by meeting his gaze, turning his head and expecting a 'what?' only for denji to lean in to kiss him. there is no rush to end this one; they're both nestled in their cozy cocoon. it remains soft but heavily intimate in its slow pace. ]
no subject
Shut up. You made it special enough.
[next year's already taken care of the second bakugou levied their station with schedule changes. no, it was not a request; it was a notice. only two days a week are they working separate shifts, if needed. the rest of the time, bakugou's working alongside his boyfriend. they take their time off together for the majority of the week. simple as that. if they want more coverage, hire more outsiders or improve the police force's efficiency. as denji curls closer, bakugou settles against him, relaxing under the covers in the warm glowing beneath their blanket. ironically his fingers aren't as icy as his nose, so there's no blasting or grabbing to keep his digits off the hero's hips. wearing sweatpants helps. not so much as his hand settles on his abs instead. colder than his hips. he claps a hand over denji's, lacing fingers to keep said digits fisted in his own and off his skin until they're comfortably warmed up. hmph.]
Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep. [bakugou tilts his head and nuzzles a kiss into denji's hair, never minding shaggy sandy ruffling at his nose and mouth. over time, he's adjusted to his boyfriend's clingy nature, slowly permitting occasional elbows on the shoulder, later accepting a hug when he's busy, followed by draping, and ultimately accepting octopus clings during nighttime sleep. as their heads tug apart, he ducks his chin and turns his head to the side, red eyes lingering on his boyfriend's visage. tch, little shit doesn't feel a shred of guilt for trapping him.] Mhn-!
[kiss. brat. jaws, brows, eyes, everything relaxes into denji's mouth, sinking their touch and relaxing as he settles beside the other boy. this is fine. a welcome christmas morning.]