[ Microorganisms, aquatic plant forms, nano fish hatchlings. An ecosystem needs a feeding ground to be able to maintain its existence, and Denji's weakness is that he's always lived in the the lowest hutch of the food chain. Always made himself vulnerable to larger predators, people looking to use his heart as a stepping stone, his guise as a scapegoat. His ribs, a ladder up. This place has an avaricious appetite and everything about his normal life, not just the guilt from his most recent wrongs, gnaws at his heels, his wafer-thin defenses.

But for a moment, nosing his face into the side of his neck, their mingled sweat flushing out the scent of unlit diesel and industrial fumes for Denji, the smell of Aki stronger than the city's — whether he realizes it or not, he can feel safe from his troubles. From himself, and from what he's already done. From what's to come.

Throat sore from all the noise he's been making tonight, a light cough runs out from him. It's not as sickly as he sounded earlier, but in case Aki gets all up into arms about it, Denji's face lifts to briefly press his lips to the underside of his chin. ]

A'right… I like learning from you. Whatcha think about creampies next?

[ It's a joke.

Half a joke.

…Maybe a quarter of a joke. ]

But if you've got somethin' else in line, that's fine. 'm not picky.

[ His hand stretches up, rubbing along at the center of Aki's brow, that, when isn't occupied by a tense crease, bears the barrelled burden of something worse. He doesn't want to think about Gun, or the piece of flesh Aki swallowed earlier without consulting him, but it's obvious what's on his mind as his thumb repeatedly smooths over the space. Again, his expression wavers, like he's going blue in the face from the effort of keeping his mouth shut when he isn't used to it. ]