[let him look. let him see. he doesn't allow the hand on denji's face to stop his boyfriend's pretty eyes from running panic all over his upper body. jerking from one place to the next, incredulous, angry, pained, grieving, confuse. so many questions, so much to tell him so denji understands everything that happened. but not right now. his furrowed brows and scrambling gaze all but evidence those once-flushed ears of his won't hear a damn thing he says. he brushes a thumb across denji's cheek again, wondering what sorts of ideas and feelings are whirling about his mind. likely a bunch of jumped-to conclusions and emotionally-charged verdicts without knowing the entire story. a sigh escapes his lips. guess he'll be doing some mental knot de-tangling later on.]
I'm not dead. [he'll let him have the gentle chiding about being "okay" because he's obviously not. the wounds are still healing, his arm's obviously not functional, and katsuki looks tired compared to his usual state. but compared to others who made it through the war with amputations, horrific scars, and even lost or irreparably damaged quirks, he's... made it out alive. he can't say the same for some. hearing denji's voice, the love and affection inside, grips at his chest in a warm and painful way. how much he missed his voice, even if he didn't remember it in his mind. he thumbs over the shell of his ear, trying to calm denji down from everything raging around inside him.] Aa. The doctors and Aizawa-sensei stuck me on stupid light duty.
[he shrugs his shoulders to roll the shirt off his upper body, letting it fall down around his waist and arms, it's easy enough to strip off his one wrist free, but the other... he ignores it, letting denji see everything in full. shoulder, side, chest, arm, luckily one his cheek was wrecked enough to scar when it could've been all the way up his neck and jaw. yeah, he'll need to change his bandages tomorrow. but they'll hold for another day. denji's right in that katsuki got yanked back in the middle of trading the dressings, hence the bared skin in some places and the dried-bloody bandages in others. if it's any consolation, or even more damning, the scars katsuki got from his boyfriend's chainsaws in vegas are now... gone.
before he answers, he leans in, takes denji's chin in his good hand, lifts his head and eyes to meet his own, then touches his lips to his boyfriend's. kissing him long, warm, deep, hard, needing to show him his feelings are all still there, 100% intact and burning a bright as the explosions he embodies. he won't leave it too long though. even in abject sorrow and frustration, body reactions are body reactions. and he and denji have a lot of physical memories together. breaking the kiss, he lets him go and leans back, freeing the half-devil to inspect again.]
The doctors were able to keep its shape with surgery, but it's pretty fucked up. There's no guarantee it'll ever go back to normal even with physical therapy. [he thinks about telling denji how the doctor suggested amputation in order to continue being a hero, but... katsuki opts to save that for another time.] Heh. He doesn't know who the fuck he's talking to. I'll kick the physical therapy's ass and bring it back to full health!
and he is taking that knowledge extremely seriously
I'm not dead. [he'll let him have the gentle chiding about being "okay" because he's obviously not. the wounds are still healing, his arm's obviously not functional, and katsuki looks tired compared to his usual state. but compared to others who made it through the war with amputations, horrific scars, and even lost or irreparably damaged quirks, he's... made it out alive. he can't say the same for some. hearing denji's voice, the love and affection inside, grips at his chest in a warm and painful way. how much he missed his voice, even if he didn't remember it in his mind. he thumbs over the shell of his ear, trying to calm denji down from everything raging around inside him.] Aa. The doctors and Aizawa-sensei stuck me on stupid light duty.
[he shrugs his shoulders to roll the shirt off his upper body, letting it fall down around his waist and arms, it's easy enough to strip off his one wrist free, but the other... he ignores it, letting denji see everything in full. shoulder, side, chest, arm, luckily one his cheek was wrecked enough to scar when it could've been all the way up his neck and jaw. yeah, he'll need to change his bandages tomorrow. but they'll hold for another day. denji's right in that katsuki got yanked back in the middle of trading the dressings, hence the bared skin in some places and the dried-bloody bandages in others. if it's any consolation, or even more damning, the scars katsuki got from his boyfriend's chainsaws in vegas are now... gone.
before he answers, he leans in, takes denji's chin in his good hand, lifts his head and eyes to meet his own, then touches his lips to his boyfriend's. kissing him long, warm, deep, hard, needing to show him his feelings are all still there, 100% intact and burning a bright as the explosions he embodies. he won't leave it too long though. even in abject sorrow and frustration, body reactions are body reactions. and he and denji have a lot of physical memories together. breaking the kiss, he lets him go and leans back, freeing the half-devil to inspect again.]
The doctors were able to keep its shape with surgery, but it's pretty fucked up. There's no guarantee it'll ever go back to normal even with physical therapy. [he thinks about telling denji how the doctor suggested amputation in order to continue being a hero, but... katsuki opts to save that for another time.] Heh. He doesn't know who the fuck he's talking to. I'll kick the physical therapy's ass and bring it back to full health!