windfall | light a cigarette, i'll watch as it burns

light a cigarette, i'll watch as it burns

[ Knocking. The roar of ammunition fire in his ears. Blasts of heat and debris sticking to his face, dust crusting in his eyes. A delirious and delicious taste, sweet red like pomegranate, like Aki's skin scraping open in his mouth.

Denji doesn't talk much about what happened that day.

Not unusual, since he doesn't really talk much about any of what transpired prior to meeting Nayuta, either. Or about how sometimes he can still sense, not even hear, but sense a phone ringing in the distance, its pull like a spiral cord that's gone taut, that's trying to make its way back home and if he follows its trail, he might just find someone familiar on the other end of the receiver.

No, he doesn't tell anyone all that, because, see, the last time he did, Kishibe had just hummed and looked at him, the kind of look Denji would get from adults whenever they caught him picking through the dumpster for his next meal: pitying. Then, he'd shook out a flask from the inside of his coat and said, "Sometimes it's better for the line to go dead, kid."

Weird response, right? It'd made Denji go silent, think a bit. And after a while, he hadn't liked that so much, so he'd changed the subject to something inoffensive, like complaining about how much Nayuta's so much better at arcade games than he is, but Kishibe had cut him short at that point to go take a call.

Naturally, Denji had followed.

It's a little sad that a man in his silver years is the only person he can confide in, but Kishibe's not a bad guy — and that's coming from someone who generally hates men. Then again, the guy doesn't show his gaunt face around these parts unless he absolutely has to, which is probably by his own design, so it helps that he's never around long enough for Denji to get sick of seeing him. Up until that conversation, his absence wouldn't have been something Denji paid notice to. It'd usually take weeks and months and Nayuta asking where the funny, drunk geezer who always sneaks her hard candy is for him to see past the everyday chaos of being Tokyo's friendly neighborhood Chainsaw Man.

But as Denji creeped closer, overhearing some words but not registering most of them, a dangerous curiosity brought him to the edge of his hiding spot. What the hell has this dude been up to?

And then he'd froze.

"So the Gun Devil's position has been compromised. Initiate a tactical retreat."

Afterward, he hadn't done anything for a solid week besides go to school, kick some devil ass and stare vacantly at a pair of eggs frying in the pan for dinner each evening. Predictably, Nayuta had rapidly gotten sick of the menu. So before he could make his eighth pair of fried eggs, she'd scaled up his back and twisted his earlobes until he begged for forgiveness.

"Stuuupid! Dummy! Get a hold of yourself!" Nayuta raged on. "No more acting weird, or else I'm putting doggy kibble in your cereal again!"

She was right. He needed to get a hold of himself. Yeah, he was dumb, but that didn't mean he had eggshells for brains. He could still do stuff in his own way.

In the following weeks, Denji spent his time hounding members of the Devil Hunter Club for all and any relevant knowledge pertaining to devils. From rumors about recent devil sightings, to insights into things like the theoretical mechanics behind how long it took for certain types of devils to die in Hell and be reborn, to mathematical equations projecting the survivability rate of fiends based on the velocity and quantity of violence…

Of course, he only understood about three-percent of anything at any given time, but one detail of interest shared by some gloomy, pig-tailed girl stood out to him. According to her, a mysterious amount of devils had been slain in the Kabukicho district, none of which had been reported by either civilian hunters or Public Safety ones.

Anyone with half their wits would be able to easily determine that this wasn't a reasonable lead, but for Denji? He could feel something trilling out to him. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[What is this? Aki wants to ask. But instead he closes his eyes for a moment, thinking of an answer. It could even look like he's fallen asleep for how long he's quiet with them closed, unmoving and unbothered by Denji's touches. He's debating what to say.]

I think I was at my happiest right after the typhoon devil.

[Power returned home at that time, and they had a couple weeks of calm. Denji was morose for a bit, he remembers. But once that cleared, things were nice for a time. Their home life was okay. He went out to lunch with Angel a lot in that period - their relationship had grown a little more open. Between the typhoon devil and the time Denji was being hunted by assassins, things were alright. Normal.]

[Maybe it was the contrast, between what happened then and what happened next. Everything went downhill after that time period. But for those couple weeks, things were calm.]

But if you asked me at the time... I think I would have said I was miserable.

[He had just lost two months of his life. Two of his friends had died, and he couldn't do a thing about it at the time. He wrecked a company car. Angel told him that strange story about the "vrumm" he remembered hearing in hell. And with Power back home, the terrible twosome had been a pain to deal with all at once.]

I think some of happiness is hindsight. Being able to look back on things... Having moments to reminisce on that make you happy... That sort of thing.

[That big dinner they had right after Samurai Sword. Listening to Denji try and recap all the movies he had seen one day. That welcome party where he got so drunk Power had to carry him home. Trying to teach Meowy how to use a litter box.]

If you say you're happy just as you are, I'll believe you... But your life can always stand to improve. So you have more good things to look back on.

[ Aside from his moving mouth, Aki looks eerily motionless to him, somehow managing to sound older and more far away with each word he speaks, the exact integer of light, sound, and space he’s traveled since they put down Typhoon tallied into his very breath. Denji's fingers have stopped toying with his ear, now resting warm upon his neck, thumbing at his pulse — just another out of many other affectionate gestures he's shared with him tonight, but this one belies the fact that he's needily checking that Aki is still alive, still solid, still there. Not a ghost that'll disappear after saying his piece.

He’s never needed much to get by; he knows how to ration out his happiness and make the inconsequential things, like finding a shiny coin on the street or cracking two yolks out of a single egg, last far past their expiration date. Growing up on the countryside, in lieu of a mother’s presence, calling him back home to a warm dinner, gently chastising him for staying out too late, he could think about how nice it was not to be nagged. How without the assuring weight of his old man’s hand on his head, he could live without those same digits constricting around his windpipe.

But then moving to Tokyo had blown the bad things, the things he'd tried to think of as not so bad, completely out of the water — he'd never been happy like that in his life. Happy enough he could even ignore the misery of others, people like his coworkers who all died after the welcome party, people like Aki who had to keep dragging their feet onward the next day. A happiness so unquestionable, so extreme, everything else could fall by the wayside.

And then he'd lost — no, not lost, it was never his to lose. He'd returned all that. ]

Y'know… [ Denji lowers his hands from him, the downward movement taking his gaze along with it. It's funny, he'd felt pretty content just a moment ago. Now his voice is small. Uncharacteristically, slow and measured. ] You can be weird. And you talk way too much. But you're a pretty good thing, too, Aki. [ He doesn't look up, doesn't want to see Aki watching him tiredly or pinched with something unreadable, or worse, not regarding him at all. ] I don't want you to be something I just look back on someday.

[Aki keeps his stare up on the ceiling as Denji speaks. He surely has some sort of unreadable expression on his face, unhappy and confused yet pleased and understanding. He wonders if, for a time, he was someone Denji looked back on. For Aki, he was. But all he had were what-ifs and woulda-coulda-shoulda. Maybe that's why he feels such pressure to make sure Denji is on the right footing now.]

...I don't want to die with regrets again, either.

[He pushes himself to sit up, Denji's leg splayed over his the main thing holding him down. So he reaches to push it away.]

Come on. We need to wash off. [Their post-coital talking wasn't quite as mellow and pointless as the pillow talk he's used to. He'll let them both shoulder the blame for that even if it's mostly his own fault. Aki tugs at the arm that's over his chest in an attempt to pull Denji upright.]

[ Happy memories only become regrets when you don't hold on hard enough to them. That could be the reason Denji, reeled up like a fishing lure, hangs in an exaggerated droop, ready to fall back into the sheets if Aki lets go. ]

Gaaah, you can't be serious. Already…? [ He pauses, a hound scenting something. Shortly after, his nose dives close into Aki's bubble, giving him a good sniff. ] …Never mind, good point. You smell like toe gunk.

[ So he says, though it's clearly not that bad… Just sweat intermingling with with a hint of shampoo. He kinda enjoys how it permeates off him, but like hell he's gonna say that. Anyway, Denji definitely smells worse by virtue of being Denji, and he seems self-aware enough about it to begrudgingly get to his feet again, leading the way to the bathroom.

Adopting a perfunctory tone as he starts to turn the shower head on: ] You can take the tub. [ It's only large enough to fit one person. So. ] I'll just soap up on the side.

[ After going skinny dipping with a pretty girl, but mostly after taking care of Power and Nayuta, he hasn't felt shy about bathing with others in a while, so he just assumes that's what they're both going to do. Besides, this isn't really his first time with Aki, either. When Aki was discharged from the hospital, Denji used to help with little things in the beginning as he acclimated. Not really the same henning he'd reserve for Power, just mostly helping him lift up from the bathtub if he needed the extra upper body support. He always agreed back then, and always without complaint, staring at the stump of tightened skin where his left arm used to be. ]

I don't smell like toe gunk.

[Denji gets a palm smushing his face as Aki pushes him away for that. He probably smells like sweat and semen but not toe gunk. Denji is always so gross.]

[But once they're inside, apparently he's being sent to the tub. Aki shakes his head like Denji doesn't know what he's talking about. He reaches to turn on the faucet to it, letting it fill with warm water.]

You shouldn't skip out on that. It's good for your skin. [That's what his mother used to tell him, though maybe that mattered more in a place that was dry like Hokkaido as opposed to humid like Tokyo. Aki is similarly not too body shy around Denji in a tub environment, though it's less because of the struggles he had to button his pants for the first week or so after he lost his arm and more because he finds bath nudity completely separate from other nudity. He saw Angel naked all the time when they had to spray one another down after particularly gory devils. ...Though seeing a devil naked never really made Aki think of anything like body shame or the need to hide himself, anyway. (With Himeno, he kept his pants on.)]

Here - Just sit down. [And he points him to the shower stool, grabbing the head off the wall.]

Relax! I have baths all the time, man. Didn't know it was a good thing…

[ The rejection earns him an unsurprised snort. What a pain in the ass. He was trying to be nice letting him call dibs. But whatever, he surrenders to the direction, seating himself on the stool and sliding it back so that it's properly positioned in front of Aki. It's been a while since he's been on the other side of something like this. Might as well enjoy it. ]

Well, if you wanna get your bandages soaked, go for it.

[ Pointed out like it makes a difference; wet bandages or no, Aki's skin should be newly minted within the next day. ]

Not too cold, [ he warns, tilting his head back to stare up at him. ] Okay?

[Aki isn't too concerned about the bandages. He taped them, so they should hold up under some water. His main worry was infection, anyway. So Aki moves behind him, spraying the head against his hand as he waits for him to get situated.]

[When Denji leans his head back to look at him, Aki stares in response, no agreement or disagreement. He could tell him that, actually, it's better for your hair to wash it with cold water, or he could scold him for wasting warm water when the bath is going to be plenty warm. But he does neither, just waits for the water to grow warm against his hand before he pushes his head back in the right direction and begins spraying him down, from top to bottom. His hand slides through his hair, slicking it down and back and running his fingers through to pick out the knots. After he's fully sprayed down, he reaches out to set the shower head down and steps around Denji, looking at him straight on. He's flattened his hair neatly against his head, giving him a brief look at what he might look like if he combed his hair and gelled it in place.]

[Aki snorts.]

[Then picks up the shampoo and starts to give his head a gentle scrub with his un-damaged hand. Though whether it's meant to be gentle or just because it's one-handed, it's not really clear.]

You look like a private school kid, with your hair straightened... [Just imagine, Denji going to a nice, expensive school with a fancy uniform, in a suit and tie... There's no way. He never even wore his uniform jacket in Public Safety.]

[ …If only it could always be this easy to close his eyes, feel the sink of someone else's fingers wetting into his roots. Although it's not as if his scalp is being fully massaged, it's still nice, and so sufficient in its niceness that it pulls a weighty breath of relief out from his chest. The nozzle spray overtakes the sound, but Aki probably could have observed the movement from sight alone: the hike of Denji's broad shoulders, the slow descent.

Then he hears the slap of Aki's feet against the ceramic tiling. One eye opens. ]

Hm? Is that bad? [ Private school student…? That's a funny thought. Kishibe hadn't even bothered listing one of those as an option for him to enroll in. He raises a hand above his opened eye to shield it from any vagrant suds. ] Or do you like it?

[ … ]

Well, you look like… [ He trails off, watching him up the side of his arm, unable to think of a timely retort. Aki doesn't look like he belongs in a school at all, really, either as a student or a faculty member. It's easier to imagine him more as a regular salaryman, like the all the ones he sees on the train reading the paper or barely managing to stay awake until their next stop. But that's a pretty boring response. So he tells him instead: ] You look like the kinda teach that'd have fun punishing his students. Making 'em stand in the hallway and hold their arms in the air.

[He probably dislikes it. Definitely doesn't like it. But it's because it isn't Denji. He's never seen him with his hair combed out, straightened and slick with effort. So seeing him now with it is amusing. But Aki doesn't say any of that, instead considering the teacher comment.]

In my high school we used buckets. [It felt very cliche. Like something from a manga or drama. But he assumes Denji is speaking from experience, here.] How often do you have to do that? Maybe I'll suggest they switch. [He says it so neutrally it honestly sounds like he might send Denji to school with a letter about it. But no - he never found the practice to do much of anything but get a noisy kid out of the room for a bit.]

[Once he sprays the suds out of Denji's hair, he works his body clean next before spraying him off, too. His mouth opens as he starts to tell him to sit up so he can clean him out, but... then remembers he didn't actually come inside him. It just honestly felt like he did, with how into it he got.]

[So he puts the shower head back on the wall and motions at him to get to the tub.] Go soak. I'll clean off.

[ Denji's been thrashed from one end of the city to the next, boiled alive in the stomach acids of devils before — and yet somehow the idea of being forced to hold buckets of water at Aki's request is what has him shirking back and off the stool. Sometimes he'll get bored and stop paying attention, or sometimes there will be dudes annoying the hell out off him. But he never does anything that bad in class. Frequently, it's the adults who give him a hard time, drawing conclusions about his behavioral issues based on the fact that he doesn't have any parents, doesn't have any proper guidance, doesn't have goals to steer him anywhere but to some dead-end job… Yeah, no way would he last a single day in some place like a private school if he can barely slum it in public education.

But he doesn't want to make that Aki's problem. ]

No! Don't be a jerkface…

[ He shoots a quick glare at Aki, then moves to sit on the edge of the tub, wiggling his fingers in the water to test its temperature. Still warm it feels like. Briefly, he looks back at Aki again, considering offering to help him since he's still one-handed, and since Denji still feels like he owes him, but he's been dismissed every time he's tried so far tonight. He's… not really sure how to conduct himself around Aki now that they've had intercourse, if there's a right or a wrong way to act. ]

So like, uh, are we just gonna hit the sack after this?

[Aki looks over his shoulder at him at the question, his own expression questioning. Not insulting or judgmental - he looks truly curious, if not a bit fatigued.]

As opposed to what?

[Does he have anything else planned...? It's late, of course he's going to send Denji to bed when they're both cleaned up. He turns back around to continue scrubbing himself down.]

I told you - This kind of thing doesn't have to be a big deal.

[He reaches to pick up the shower head and begins to spray himself down, still keeping his gaze forward. It doesn't have to be a big deal, nor does it have to mean anything. Denji should learn that.]

And I was serious. You still have to go to class tomorrow.

[ Oh… Yeah, that's right. Not a big deal. Denji throws his legs into the tub, then flumps in all at once, water spilling out over the brim in rivulets. He isn't looking Aki's way anymore, training his. ]

No, I just meant — like, I wasn't sure if that was the usual order of stuff.

[ You have sex, you talk, you bathe… Most of the time, in the tapes he watches, the actors in there will go at it for hours on end, but maybe they actually took breaks in-between and he didn't realize it. Or maybe it was special effects, CGI or something — that stuff's gotten more popular in action movies, so maybe porn, too. Chin tilting downward, he blows bubbles into the surface level of the water.

After some thinking, he speaks up again. ]

Can I sleep with you at least? Usually, Nayuta's there when I go to bed so it's weird if there's no one else.

[ Like none of this is a big deal, it's not a big deal if Aki refuses, either, he tells himself. He could always drag Meowy in there against her will. ]

[The order to things... Aki isn't sure what else he wants. He doesn't respond as Denji settles himself in the tub, pushing his hair back and out of his face. Did he still want to talk? Was there something he didn't say that he wanted to? Did he actually want to go again? Did the feeling not last as long as he expected?]

[Then Denji mentions him sleeping with him, and it clicks.]

Are you a kid? [It comes out a little tired, kind of amused in the same way you are when a cat falls off the counter. He squeezes out his hair and begins to spray down the floor.] Yeah. It's fine. [He can pretend to believe him, that he slept beside Power for so long and now he's beside that kid. It's been years since Aki regularly slept beside anyone. The last time... was probably when they went to Hokkaido.]

[He stretches his arms before grabbing a towel, wrapping it around his waist. Despite scolding Denji to get in the tub, he isn't bothering with it, himself. He might fall asleep if he did.]

Come on. I'll tuck you in. [Just light teasing, said in a neutral tone.]

Ah, shove it!

[ The embarrassing part is that even in the face of his teasing, Denji can't refute him, can't contain the way his eyes brighten, renewed excitement fizzling into the syllables of his response. That's exactly what he wants: to be tucked in, to be close to someone just a little while longer.

Cheeks coloring from more than the steam getting to his head, he nicks a nearby towel of his own, letting it flop over his wet hair, and thereby hiding how pleased the expression on his face is, as he gingerly steps out. Denji's dripping all over the place, but he's careful as he moves to fit the tub cover into place. Aki's already making fun of him, he doesn't need to give him another reason to by falling on his ass. ]

You — go get changed. I'll replace the sheets.

[ As if to directly disprove the allegation that he's a kid, Denji straightens, chest puffing as he sets off for the bedroom, flicking the light off as he passes. Transparent posturing. A silly contrast compared to how timidly he'd requested to share the bed with Aki moments before. ]

[Look at him, being all high and mighty about changing the sheets. He'll have to teach him about the magic of putting down a towel before sex.]

[Aki spends a minute or two drying off, pulling on some pants and an undershirt. When he returns to the bedroom, he either helps Denji continue with the sheet changing, or backs off and waits for him to finish if he gets shooed. Once the bed is ready though, he lays down, turning onto his side and raising the covers for Denji to crawl under.]

[As his hand raises the sheets, however, a flash of deja vu hits him. A feeling that he's done this exact motion before, that his body has moved like this in the past. It takes him a moment to place it.]

...I used to have to do this with my younger brother.

[Funny, how that works out. He waits for Denji to crawl in before setting the sheets down over him.]

You're not quite as needy, though. [A low bar to pass, but still.]

[ Tidy wouldn't be the correct description for his bedroom right now, but it's at least cleared of their clothes. The dirty bedding's been exchanged for an older, scratchier-looking cover — didn't seem like Aki cared one way or another as he watched him change it, so Denji tried not to look sheepish about it. Once he's switched the light off, tossed on a fresher shirt and shorts, Denji climbs in, helping himself to the leftover room. Most of the time, he finds himself sleeping right on the outer fringes, if not completely off it, as Nayuta and dogs take up the majority of the futon; without them there, it's a little more spacious.

It's nice, in a way. It just being the two of them.

Though Denji doesn't do anything like wrap his arms around him or nuzzle his face into his chest from the onset, like he did earlier after they'd finished, he's embarrassingly pondering it just as Aki brings up the memory of his brother. ]

Uhhh, really? [ he says, in spite of himself, betraying his own self-doubt. He feels needy, out of sorts compared to how he usually functions around Aki, something he'd chalked off to having his first time with him. So, y'know, it’s a nice thing to hear as his head hits the pillow. That he isn’t behaving any more abnormal than usual.

That aside, it's not often that Denji hears about Aki's family. He's mentioned his name in passing, probably, and he remembers for sure seeing the lettering for it when they visited his family's grave. Not that he could try reading it, sounding it out in his head, before Power started stuffing rotten fruits into her mouth. If they ever get a chance to go again, he thinks that he'll make sure to memorize it.

Anyway, assuming this is Aki's way of giving him permission to ask, he turns over on his stomach, side of his face pressed into his folded arms on the pillow, so that he can still look at him. ]

What was it like? He just sneak in at night or something?

[Aki settles onto his back when Denji climbs in, settling a hand on his stomach. He didn't really intend to talk about it, but... Now he can't really not do so without making it weird.]

No. He was clingy. [Denji is less obvious with his clinginess to the point that Aki wouldn't describe him with the word. He's more used to rejection and deals with people being annoyed with him with more dignity. But he's also not, like, 10 years old, so that makes sense.]

...He was sick a lot. He had a bad constitution. Usually he slept with our parents on bad nights, but towards the end of a bout, he'd want to sleep next to me. [Specifically, that's what he remembered. When he would complain and whine that he wanted to sleep next to Aki because he was feeling better.] But his body was so warm, I'd feel like I was in a sauna.

[Sometimes he still thinks of those nights when he wakes up beside someone. The strange feeling of someone else's warmth in his bed. He never really got used to it.]

[With Denji facing him on his side, however, he raises his other arm up, silently offering his side. He doesn't know if that's what he wants, but Denji isn't his little brother. So it's not the same as waking up burning from the physicality of someone else's fever.]

[ Without any real feeling to it, a thought comes to him: The kid must've loved him, Denji thinks of Aki's brother who he can't remember the name of. But that feels like a shitty thing to say for some reason — and if not shitty, then an empty thing. Obvious. So he doesn't say a word about that. ]

Eh, that'd be kinda nice to have during the winter, right? Would keep your hands warm. [ Nayuta gets like that sometimes. Not so much clingy as she is expectant from all the times Denji has reached to her for a hug in the middle of the night. ] Stuffy when it's humid, though…

[ The ending notes of his response trail quietly off as Aki raises his arm, and Denji doesn't pause to debate whether he should or shouldn't accept the offer. He's there in half a blink, shamelessly, as if he'd been hoping for this cue the moment he slipped in. Knowing him, he probably has.

Snug up against Aki, his face disappears inside the crook of his arm, a content mmm sound rumbling from his chest, the way it does when someone takes a first bite out of something they could have seconds, thirds, fourths of. For a second, Denji's arm squeezes across his midsection. ]

If I get too warm, you can use one of the ice packs or something to cool off. [ Seeing as they were going unused, he returned them to the freezer earlier. But they can always retrieve them again. ] Just don't kick me outta bed! I'll get mad.

[Naturally he crawls in close right away, but all Aki does is make a slight huffing sound when Denji is against him in the blink of an eye. He lowers his arm once he's situated, settling it around him.]

Ice packs... [No, he'd probably kick Denji out of the bed before he did that. But then Denji seems to know exactly what he was thinking and refuses to give him the option. Funny how that works.]

It's fine. You're not that hot.

[He turns his head into him, cheek against hair, eyes closed as he feels his breath against his undershirt. Very funny how it works. How he used to think about getting to experience human contact like this again. Waking up holding someone in his arms. Their weight on his body. How he hoped he would die before he ever saw anyone who might ever recognize him. That he would fade away as a government secret. A victim of the Gun and nothing more. But now, here he is, Denji against his body, both of them tired and damp from sex and a bath. A normal life. At least, maybe, for them.]

[Denji doesn't get kicked out. He wakes up a few times and adjusts to look down at him, turning on his side, waiting to see that he's asleep. Then slotting against him, tugging him close, making sure he won't think he's kicked out. No, he couldn't kick him out. Couldn't let him slide out, either. He knows this feeling of clinginess, one he just complained about, but here he is, reveling in it in the middle of the night and relaxing into it like an old friend. He was never this sort of person, before he got close. The loneliness fiend never could have hurt him. Now he wonders when it might come back from hell and be his most dangerous foe.]

[The sun wakes him up and Aki finally lets go of him, turning back onto his back and staring tiredly at the ceiling. The devil will probably be back here... Aki pulls himself up and looks at Denji. Seeing if he needs to wake him up or if the cold spot left beside him will do the job. If the former, he gets a shake to his shoulder. Weak but constant.]

[ Much like the nights prior, Denji tries to hold out for as long as he can before sleep takes possession of him. As always, there's a nagging presence in the back of his mind that's still not all the way convinced that he doesn’t have one foot in reality, the other sluiced in a long, drawn out dream — that dream being the warm inhale and exhale stirring the topmost hairs on his head, so close and so real it makes him question his own senses. Kinda like holding a seashell to your ear, thinking what you're hearing is authentic to the ocean's warbles, but it's really just one silvery echo of it. A mirage, an illusion.

The truth of the matter is that he could live with that type of thing, an echo. Could he do the same if it ever went quiet, ever left him for good?

That's just another question he doesn't know the answer to. Doesn't want to.

As the hours pass, Denji’s grip on him does steadily slacken, maybe with the trust that Aki wouldn't forcibly disentangle himself or knock him sideways for getting too cozy. But he never lets go, not fully, as if subconsciously aware that doing so would be tantamount to letting the axis of his very small world go off-center. Come sunrise and birdsong, his arms are still around his waist, mouth permanently yawned open as his gnarled snores disrupt what would otherwise be a beatific morning.

…The shaking at his shoulder, though, draws out a half-conscious mumble, a wrinkling to his brow. He doesn't swat at it, not yet lucid enough to register irritation at having his slumber cut short. Inch by inch, his eyes creak open, but as soon as light filters through his lashes, it's like he realizes the immediacy of his mistake, and he squeezes them back closed. But it's too late. ]

Akiii… Why… [ Rolling over, Denji smothers his face into Aki's hip to block out and groans, the sound not that far off from somebody sobbing. He'd kick his feet if he weren't afraid of Aki scolding him for acting like a kid again.

Eventually, his whines subside long enough for him to pitifully mumble into the hem of his shirt: ] I wanna kiss.

[He's such a brat. Aki turns to look out the small window letting in sunlight. It's still early enough that the room doesn't feel like it's baking, but he still feels warm. Probably from last night, he realizes. Denji clung to him all night long. Not that he didn't essentially do the same.]

You're so annoying.

[A muttered, half-hearted complaint. Aki sighs and pushes at Denji to get off from around him, prying at his hands in order to force him onto his back. Once he has him there, he leans down onto an elbow over him and meets his lips briefly, a chaste kiss if nothing else, but then thinks better of it (realizes Denji will complain that it didn't count) and kisses him again, this one longer and with more connection, lingering before finally pulling back and staring down at him from a few inches above.]

Alright? [And he begins to pull up fully, ready to stretch his arms and begin the day.]

[ Denji cranes his neck out, grin widening into the tilt of his lips, enjoying the lightness. How easy it feels to ask for something and have it be reciprocated, no matter how begrudgingly. So this is normal, too? he considers saying, when Aki breaks away, but doesn't, instead snaking one of his hands out from where they'd been tucked away. In a flitting movement, his fingers trawl the side of Aki's face, like he might haul him back down — except, with a huff of laughter, Denji changes his mind at the very last second and pinches painlessly at his cheek, pulling, so that he makes an extra dumb expression.

Fine. He'll be satisfied with this. ]

…Yeah. Yeah, alright.

[ Whether Aki punishes him with a smack to his hand or to his face, Denji sustains the lively skip in his gait for the entirety of the morning, as evidenced by: insisting that they brush and floss at the same time, forgetting that because Aki isn't Nayuta's size, any jerky movements will basically lead to the two of them jabbing each others' sides; imposing his rendition on breakfast without letting Aki do a thing to assist before Nayuta arrives; and, in his excitement at trying to make stir-fry bok choy for the first time, nearly spilling boiling sauce all over their slippers (and the floor).

Nothing seems to bring him down, though, despite every little mishap that occurs. Being normal feels great! Having sex feels great, too, even if his ass hurts! Yeah!

Nayuta joins them about partway through the table being set, her usual convoy of canines right there with her as she pushes herself inside. A reusable bag of peaches and plums imparted to her by the granny hang from her arm. Denji glances over his shoulder, puts the last the plate down, and motions with a wave of his hand for her to hurry up, set her things down —

"Something smells," she says, mildly.

His mouth twitches. From Nayuta, an observation like that could mean anything. ]

Yeah, well, that's the food. Smells bad but it tastes way better than it reeks! Tell 'er, Aki.

[Denji is so... energetic today. He seems so positive. Not that he wasn't especially positive before, but it's like there's an extra skip in his step. He follows along with his yankings and beggings and brushes his teeth with him, setting Denji in front of himself the first time he elbows him so he won't do it again, then keeps a close eye on his work in the kitchen, nearly getting boiling sauce all over his arms with how he jolts them out to grab him before he can ruin the two of them at once. It's too much energy for the morning, he scolds him. Calm down a little. Take it slow.]

[And then all the dogs and the devil are back. For a moment, Aki honestly forgot she was here. Not fully, but she'd been so perfectly put out of his mind that her reappearance is like an aftertaste he wasn't expecting. Her note about the smell reminds him also why devils are so annoying - they can smell anything. From fear to semen. He'll hope she's just smelling his own disdain for her or maybe it really is the food. Nothing that will require him to have a conversation on what sex is at 7 in the morning.]

Some of the best food smells the worst.

[Like durian. Durian is pretty good, and it smells like skunk. He sits down and waits for Denji to plate the table. He seems so keen on doing things on his own today, only using Aki for backup with the devil, apparently. Although...]

He's already made me sick with his food once. [But it was likely more Power's doing.] So let him take the first bite.

[ While Aki and Denji's voices occupy the conversation, she passes them both by to plunk the bags of fruit on the counter space, not casting a glance toward the bedroom where most of the dirty laundry is shoved. Her backpack clipped and uniform buttoned, it doesn't look like Nayuta has any reason to go scoping out the room, so they're probably safe from, er, her drawing whatever off-color conclusions a kid her age might. She's just there to eat and drag Denji off, apparently. ]

Guh, don't tell her that, asshole — listen, it's just a vegetable! [ A just about even portioning of sesame-garnished greens slides out from the pan, sliding on each plate with a splat of cooking juices. ] I can't mess up a vegetable! Nayuta, tell 'em!

[ "One time," Nayuta begins to recount, sounding too thoughtful as she takes her place at the table. The kind of thoughtful that can only mean she's about to make a joke out of him. "He tried to learn how to pickle veggies for us! But he used the wrong kind of salt and left it out for too long, and it came out all bitter and yucky and we both had to stay home from school 'cause of tummy runs — " ]

— okay, stop, stop! I'll take the first bite, you critics!

[ Nudging away a full clove of garlic he'd forgotten to dice, Denji picks up one of the bok choy bulbs. Holds it up to his nose for a sniff and, yeah, it stinks a little like fish… But that's only because he added fish paste to it for an extra kick. Although it's not an orthodox addition to stir-fry, he's pretty sure it should taste fine. Better than fine, even, with all the other sauces and seasonings he added.

He sneaks a glance up at the two of them, and something about their mirrored expressions, how clearly waned of any high expectations they are, preempts a scoffs from Denji. He chomps down. ]

Ow. [ His jaw pops as he slowly chews around the stem of the vegetable. It doesn't actually hurt to bite into, but it's obvious the vegetable hasn't softened enough. Probably because he didn't blanch the bok choy before tossing it all into the pan. ]

…I mean, ooohhhh, it's so good! It tastes great! Just like food!

[Denji fucked up pickles? Aki stares at him with the most dour look imaginable, like he just bit down on a too-salty pickled vegetable, himself. He looks down at the meal he's created, then back at him to watch him try the first bite. And he says "ow." About a bok choy. A bok choy that he boiled and fried. He somehow managed to make even that too firm...?]

[He can't help it - he laughs. Aki laughs a quiet but constant sound, raising his hand to cover his mouth out of embarrassment for both himself and Denji. It's been so fucking long since anything like this has happened, he forgot it was a normal part of living with him. A normal part of existing beside Denji. Watching him do this stupid shit. Making a shitty breakfast and then acting like it's soooo good and begging for Aki to try. He picks up his chopsticks to try it, himself.]

...It's so salty. [What the hell did he use, extra sodium soy sauce and a whole container of salt? Aki coughs as he reaches to wash it down with water.] I'm getting both of you children's cookbooks - You can't live like this. [But even saying that, he just sounds so amused. He hasn't laughed this much in ages, and even then he's barely laughing, just smiling. Stupid Denji.]

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