[weird thoughts are gonna spawn no matter what. bakugou's never been one to want someone else controlling his life. even advice and support from others, parents and teachers included, tend to chafe at him. bristling against the idea someone else is telling him he's wrong in his own damn life, or someone wants to take part of the effort and reason behind his accomplishments and victories. but for all his pride and aggression, he's slowly come to learn what it means to be part of a team, what it means when people are willing to come after him to help him, what it means to see a hand offered. will he take it all the time? hell no! but when he does, it won't be with teeth grit and tears burning as if he's walking through hell to do so. denji's going to help him, this time, the next time, and every time beyond that. not because he needs to or has to, but because he wants to. and the hero knows he's going to accept it for the both of them. to help denji in return. not as an ordering command, but as supporting encouragement asking him to think or consider before making a choice.]
Right. [he doesn't trust that for a moment. denji's mouth and stomach are impervious. hunger branded in his soul not to waste something edible. fitting his devil powers include eating. though part of him wants to know everything about denji, he's aware much of his past is sordid, dark, and likely clashes hard with what bakugou feels about being a hero. best some things are left unsaid. just as there are things in the hero's past he'd rather leave personal between him and the person involved. no one ever knows 'everything' about someone else. even the people they love. only enough room for one full life in one head. pieces of others are best they can have. pieces of denji in his life. not as the dirt in an alley or the gore of some monster, but as a warm growing hero refusing to fall despite the tragedies and struggles his life throws at him. that's what bakugou focuses on in his boyfriend. who he is, what he wants, who he could be. but at the heart of it all, is denji. not chainsaw man. not a weapon or a pet. denji. the boy he took hold of his hand and held on tight. maybe he is out of his league. doesn't stop him from making his choice and hauling his ass up to stand beside him. no one gets to decide denji's worth to bakugou except bakugou. not even denji. tried with kabru twice, both soon ignored/dropped, so ixnayed any future attempts
guess there's something to be said about meeting up with your boyfriend after what is weeks in his world but only hours in this one. bakugou rests his free hand in denji's hair, arches his back as that arm loops around his spine, and lets the other boy ease him down onto the bed once more. his injured arm slowly slides to rest flat on the sheets beside him, hopefully out of the way of potential hand or knee placements. his good one will have to make up for its missing partner, running huffle scuff through denji's hair in more heated movements as kisses turn to nigh making out while his boyfriend ease atop him. has to lift his head somewhat for those pillows to wedge under there. a hand on his side, catching a blanket to curtain them in the bed, heedless of it being well into morning by now. denji's been up without sleep for hours, hasn't he. kisses break, forehead to forehead, eyes to eyes. and back again, tilting his head to deepen those touches. tongue on his lips, inciting his mouth to open and his own slick muscle curling out and running across the surface of his boyfriend's. he knows exactly what words exist in those movements. dammit, he wants to hug him, pull him into a tight embrace, press bodily to him and soak in all those tactile physical closeness devils like so much. but he's stuck with a hovering body and a hand on his thigh. dammit... denji's gonna be responsible now?]
A few hours ago. I was in the middle of changing the bandages.
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Right. [he doesn't trust that for a moment. denji's mouth and stomach are impervious. hunger branded in his soul not to waste something edible. fitting his devil powers include eating. though part of him wants to know everything about denji, he's aware much of his past is sordid, dark, and likely clashes hard with what bakugou feels about being a hero. best some things are left unsaid. just as there are things in the hero's past he'd rather leave personal between him and the person involved. no one ever knows 'everything' about someone else. even the people they love. only enough room for one full life in one head. pieces of others are best they can have. pieces of denji in his life. not as the dirt in an alley or the gore of some monster, but as a warm growing hero refusing to fall despite the tragedies and struggles his life throws at him. that's what bakugou focuses on in his boyfriend. who he is, what he wants, who he could be. but at the heart of it all, is denji. not chainsaw man. not a weapon or a pet. denji. the boy he took hold of his hand and held on tight. maybe he is out of his league. doesn't stop him from making his choice and hauling his ass up to stand beside him. no one gets to decide denji's worth to bakugou except bakugou. not even denji.
tried with kabru twice, both soon ignored/dropped, so ixnayed any future attemptsguess there's something to be said about meeting up with your boyfriend after what is weeks in his world but only hours in this one. bakugou rests his free hand in denji's hair, arches his back as that arm loops around his spine, and lets the other boy ease him down onto the bed once more. his injured arm slowly slides to rest flat on the sheets beside him, hopefully out of the way of potential hand or knee placements. his good one will have to make up for its missing partner, running huffle scuff through denji's hair in more heated movements as kisses turn to nigh making out while his boyfriend ease atop him. has to lift his head somewhat for those pillows to wedge under there. a hand on his side, catching a blanket to curtain them in the bed, heedless of it being well into morning by now. denji's been up without sleep for hours, hasn't he. kisses break, forehead to forehead, eyes to eyes. and back again, tilting his head to deepen those touches. tongue on his lips, inciting his mouth to open and his own slick muscle curling out and running across the surface of his boyfriend's. he knows exactly what words exist in those movements. dammit, he wants to hug him, pull him into a tight embrace, press bodily to him and soak in all those tactile physical closeness devils like so much. but he's stuck with a hovering body and a hand on his thigh. dammit... denji's gonna be responsible now?]
A few hours ago. I was in the middle of changing the bandages.