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

[He goes at this way different than any experience he's had before. For one thing, he's chatty. Usually when someone is giving him head they shut up. Not Denji. Aki nearly punches him for saying it looks normal (the hell did he think it would look like?!) but his fist loses all desire to smack him when he calls it cute instead. Cute?? He has never thought any dick looked cute, least of all his own. It's a blessing that he's the first one to do anything with Denji, he decides. He can tell him not to say this stuff to anyone every again.]

[He's glowering due to all his chatter, but when he sees Denji hesitate and look like he's trying to decide where to start from on a sandwich, Aki begins to reach down to guide him. It turns out he doesn't need to. When he kisses him in such a specific place Aki's spine goes rigid, a brief huff of an inhale. Like a gasp but forced silent. He settles his hand on the side of Denji's head for want of somewhere better to put it, but he doesn't yank him with it or move him by his hair.]

Think of it... Like a handjob, but with your mouth. [He can feel his heart in his throat.] Use your tongue like a finger... Kind of. [It's been years since he did this with a man. Explaining it to Denji is so strange - hefeels like he should already know this and doesn't want to underestimate him, but it's also Denji, who got upset at the idea of shaking a dude's hand and almost screamed when he found out Angel was a guy. That idiot is now kissing his balls and Aki is trying to guide him through it with quiet, on-edge words.]

[ It’s a good thing that Aki keeps his hand crowned on Denji’s head, otherwise he would have backed off and said something else to kill the mood. He likes talking, but he hasn't yet harnessed anything close to a skill for dirty banter. For now, sweaty palms placed on either side of his thighs for leverage, he peppers more kisses against his balls — considers staying put there, maybe sucking on one of his ball sacks in his mouth out of curiosity, but Aki’s hardened cock nuzzling his cheek prompts Denji to redirect his lips elsewhere. At the mention of using his tongue, he experimentally darts a lick up and down the underside of his shaft, then back up again, leaving behind a hot lather of spit. He tries to mind his teeth as warned, but the edges still snag against the veins running along his penis — he'd apologize if he were the sort to do that more than once a day, but he'd already reached his quota back at the station.

As he reaches the head of his cock, he opens his mouth wide, almost yawning, against the sticky tip. Lets it slip in, tease inside the wet hollow of his mouth. After a moment, he releases it, doesn't swallow down yet; he's not sure if he's ready to take that much of Aki in yet. He's still getting used to this, but when Denji thinks about the stuff that gets himself off, what to do becomes a little more intuitive at least. ]

[The way he moves is like he's exploring him. Aki swallows down any sound but he's wishing by now that he had fully stood instead of being on his knees. It's harder to hide the shifts of his hips when his center of gravity is different. With an unsure hand he smooths Denji's hair back like he thinks it will get in the way. His throat is dry yet his mouth feels like he's about to drool. When he finally goes to his shaft it's a feat worthy of the Nobel prize that he doesn't groan.]

Yeah - Like that. [When Denji pulls back after barely going down on him, he mutters that quiet encouragement. Even with the brush of his teeth he can redirect.] Put your lips over your teeth - When you go down.

[Never in his life did he imagine this scene before him. He wishes he'd told him to take his shirt off.]

[ He’s getting the hang of this, he thinks. As much as any newcomer to sucking dick can get the hang of anything their first time. Probably a premature self-assessment, but Aki’s quiet encouragement helps, a rare indulgence from the usual chiding he hears, like he’s doing something right for once instead of simply disappointing him. Feeling him barely keep from folding, feeling his hands brushing his hair back — it’s enough to make Denji's heart comet out of his chest, maybe even get him hard again, and he doesn't know why. He just knows that he wants to do well.

So Denji listens, more attentively than he does sitting at his desk in class. His fangs safely shuttered away beneath his lips, he bobs his head down, and initially, he doesn't get very far without accidentally going off-course, the tip stuffing up the inside of his cheek. Withdrawing slightly with a frustrated sigh, he relocates a hand to the base of Aki's dick to steady himself, and then pauses. Swiveling his tongue against the head one more time, Denji tries to copy the movement Aki used when he was jerking him, his fingertips playfully tracing the pathway of his veins, testing their fault lines — before swallowing down again, deeper, deeper, the head reaching the back of his teeth. His rhythm is off, his breath control non-existent, but he keeps going, trying to ruthlessly drink Aki back farther and farther each time, as if nothing else could slake his thirst. ]

[He learns so quickly and Aki remembers he was always like that. Stupid as a doorknob but clever. It's when he strokes him with the hand under his dick that Aki sucks in an audible sound, a gasp if it had to have a word to it, and his eyes flit shut. He has no time to recover from the contact as Denji is suddenly going down hard on him, over and over, harder than he should. He should be going slower in the beginning. He should tell him to ease into it. Not to overwhelm him all at once. Oh - ] Fuck - [He hisses that curse when he feels the brush of the back of Denji's teeth, so far in his mouth that he can barely focus on what he should be doing and instead thrusts deeper, his hips bucking into his wet, hot heat.]

Denji - Slower, you dumbass - [His hands go tight in his hair as he tries to hold him back, on the tip of his tongue as he tries to catch his breath. His hips shiver and twitch and precome openly dribbles from his cock.] Don't - Don't go that hard at once, alright? Not so fast. [He sounds out of breath as he speaks, voice tense and tight. He never thought Denji would be rushing to get him down his throat. But then again... He's always been the kind of person to swallow whatever goes into his mouth.]

[ The sharp pull of his hair has Denji leering up at him through hooded lashes, his lips glossy and wheezing and cobwebbed by strings of saliva and salted pre as Aki's dick rests on his tongue. He'd gagged earlier, gone teary-eyed, nearly coughing Aki up right there from the discoordination of Denji's own movements and the pulse of the hips hitting the rim of his mouth, but even that sting, that knee-jerk resistance to a presence pushing itself into the back of his mouth, needing to, had felt so good in the dark fever of the moment. Tasted better paired with the new knowledge that Aki could lose control of something besides his temper. ]

But, dude — [ He mouths the words against his tip, letting his tongue investigate the ridges underneath it, sinking back down only the barest amount, slower as requested, perhaps too slow. And then, so that he can still speak, he pulls off again with a soft pop. ] You're so slippery…

[ Ha ha.

Really, though, it's less that he's rushing and more that Aki makes it so easy, easier than he figured it'd be, to do something that always used to make his stomach squirm and wriggle. The thought of touching another guy a debasement in itself, but when he thinks of it as just two bodies hunting after a simple pleasure, he can't imagine anywhere else he'd rather have his hands squeezing, his mouth drooling all over. ]

[Whose fault is that?! he could snap. But Aki is speechless. He watches Denji with grit teeth and loose fingers, unable to clench them down to force him into a slower rhythm. He's never felt this warm before, his blood so hot, his dick so hard. He's so close to finishing. So close. He...]

[He could push him over. Put him on his back, shove in with just the lube of his mouth. Any injury Denji has is solved by blood, anyway. He doesn't have to be gentle with him. Aki could chase his own pleasure in this moment, fuck him until Denji is begging for it, until Aki can't possibly hold out. He could actually take his virginity, and make Denji thank him for the gift.]

[He blinks forcibly, erasing the image of Denji moaning below him from his mind. No, he scolds himself, no. He can't. Aki nods at him to continue instead, knowing he's close and knowing he wouldn't last even if he did fuck him. And how awful would that be, to finish in five seconds for someone's first time? God, Denji's first time.]

Use your tongue more - instead of your lips. [It won't make him go any slower, but it at least feels different than the idea of fucking Denji. It will at least wipe away that image from his mind. Aki knows his whole body is red, hips twitchy and moans humming at the edge of his lips, held inside by how tightly he keeps them clamped when Denji is touching him. It would be so good to let them out - but he can't. He's here for Denji. Not himself. Yeah, that's right - this is for Denji's sake. Not his own.]

You're doing good. [Denji's sake. He said it for Denji's sake. Even if he just snapped at him to slow down.]

[ Denji’s brow hitches up as he listens, obvious that he’s got an annoying question about to make itself heard the moment an opportunity arises — except it never does, because the moment you’re doing good reaches his ears, it punctures the thought into silence. Drowned out by an intoxicating sweetness flooding his cheeks, his chest. He doesn't even remember what he was about to ask anymore. Power may have been the one who subsisted more on compliments and adulation between the two of them, but hearing Aki toss a bone meant for him and no one else…

At the moment, he could tell Denji to roll over, show his belly, and he wouldn't even question it.

Focusing his attention solely on the swollen head of cock in front of him, Denji sweeps his tongue up against the slit, nudging into the divot to lap up more of hid precome. Keeps the pressure applied for a moment, before leisurely spreading the fluid around the tip in a slow back-and-forth swirl. Honestly, the idea of enveloping more of his shaft, getting lost in the brutality of Aki fucking into his mouth, is still appealing, especially if he manages to finally elicit a moan from him. But he stops himself, instead, tonguing into Aki's delicate folds, teeth nibbling lightly into the skin.

Denji's gaze flickers up as he does so, probably hoping to gauge his reaction, or hell, he wouldn't say no to praise for exercising some self-discipline. ]

[At this point, it wouldn't matter if Denji simply spit on him and dragged that over his cock. Aki is shaking openly, barely able to contain himself. Every little thing Denji does makes his breath catch, from the way he swirls his tongue to how he drags it through the slit. The hand in his hair goes tight and the other, still sticky with Denji's come, flinches and twitches beside him. He's not going to be able to make it, he thinks, and suddenly chokes out,] Put your mouth on it -

[And one of two things happen: either Denji does and Aki groans as he finishes in his mouth, or he doesn't and Aki groans and finishes on his face. Either way it takes only one more touch for him to come, teeth still grit as he's unable to cover up the final moan of pleasure while he spills on Denji and lets his eyes flutter shut with pleasure. He nearly folds in on himself and, at the very end of it, his jaw finally drops and he hisses out a quick but whispered,] Denji.

[ It’s funny, he’d sensed him coming in the sudden surge of his voice, the tilt of his hips, but it's the desperation in his command that’d taken him most by surprise. Pitching forward, Denji’s mouth wraps fully around Aki’s dick with a wince, his throat moving with each swallow of his semen. Almost just as desperate to swallow down the bitter froth. ]

Nnmmph — ah…

[ Once he feels nothing remaining, his sore jaw opens to release Aki with a noticeable click. Dazed, his tongue slides between his lips to pick up the residual smears of come. For the second time that day, Denji looks at him straight on and asks: ] Did I do good, Aki?

[Denji drinks him down like he's a sundae and Aki shivers so forcefully it's like he's going to have a second round. When he does let go of him, he sits back on his knees and tries to catch his breath, releasing Denji's hair as he stares across at him. Watches him swallow. He seriously swallowed. He's even more conscious of the mess on his hand now.]

[Did he do... Aki blinks at him slowly, still a little off kilter.] Yeah. [Said like he doesn't know what he's responding to. Like he's just responding to a kid showing him a stick figure drawing. After a moment, he blinks out of it, seeming to recognize more what Denji is actually asking - actually looking for.] You - That was really good.

[Embarrassing to admit. Even moreso because Denji doesn't seem that embarrassed. Aki glances down at his hand and seems to consider for a moment, then holds it out, palm up.]

You... Clean it up. [He stares at him, expression neutral but complex behind his eyes. Both wanting to see Denji do this and wanting to mock him for drinking him down so eagerly. He settles for a middle ground.] You made a mess.

[ Denji’s happiness is as easy to split open as it is to grind underfoot, like snuffing out a cigarette; Aki should know this about him already, though. So the swiftness with which his expression goes from a toothy grin, bright and preening, to a blank-eyed stare should come as no surprise. Particularly if he's going to be asking him to do something like that. The self-proclaimed perpetual motion machine goes momentarily motionless.

Eventually, his head cocks. ]

Clean it up? Eh, that’s kinda… [ Considering how enthusiastically he'd approached putting his first penis in his mouth a little while ago, you'd think this display of reluctance might merely be for show. But no, he's really trying to think this through! Denji's tasted his own come before. It's fine, but he wouldn't consider it the palate cleanser he really wants right now. He was hoping to pop in one of the candies he bought earlier or something, but…

He scrutinizes the hand that'd milked him: the palm lines and callouses, his spindly digits, and the sheen of fluid coating all of it, yet to dry. His cheeks go faintly scarlet, bashful. ]

You're such a weirdo, you know that?

[ Sidling up next to Aki, he grasps his wrist, bending it at an angle for easy access to his tongue. Starts by lapping at his palm in wide, ticklish strokes. Leftovers, he'll think of it that way. ]

Edited 2023-08-06 20:53 (UTC)

[He knows he's weird. Aki knows that, as a normal person, he shouldn't enjoy the feeling of Denji's tongue on his hand, the way he strokes it from palm to fingers, how it scoops up the mess he made and cleans it. He watches almost enraptured as his throat moves when he swallows. He's always thought of Denji as something like a garbage disposal, someone who will eat food that's gone bad because it's there and not because there's nothing else. He's the weird one. Aki being turned on by the contact of his tongue on his hand and the way he can see his apple bob in his throat when he swallows - no, that's normal.]

You're the one who made a mess.

[When it's clean, he pulls it back, finally stretching his legs out and exhaling a long, tired breath. No one has sucked him off like that in years. His stare stays on Denji, wondering why he agreed, why he did so well. Why he seemed so excited for Aki tl tell him he was good. Of course Denji likes praise, but... Did he enjoy himself?]

That was good. [He says it again, like he wants to fish that expression back out. The one where he looked like a dog slapping its tail against the floor.] It's... Now you get it. That's the deal. Okay? [His words are a little mixed up, brain still coming down from his orgasm. When is the last time he even came? He has no idea. His mind feels like putty - all he can think about is how Denji looked with his tongue out and Aki's cock on top of it, smearing precome along his lips.] Enough of this Chainsaw Man stuff.

[ It's a shame that Aki's hand drops from his face. He tracks its course, sulky, about what, he wouldn't be able to articulate to someone, not in a way that makes sense. Maybe he's just disappointed to have relinquished his last contact with him, after spending the better part of the hour getting to know Aki, getting to know anyone, more personally than he ever has. Maybe, in his mind, he just wasn't finished. Either way, Denji holds his tongue as he listens — only half-tuned in, because he's trying to dissect which flavor in his mouth belongs to his discharge and which to the oils of Aki’s skin, but it's hard to tell now, he'll have to figure it out next time —

The deal.

Denji breathes out, can feel the air deflate from his sails, the mention of their agreement akin to someone snapping their fingers in front of his face. The breaking of a trance.

That's right. Aki was showing him how sex wasn't a big deal, so he shouldn't bother with it… Or rather, he shouldn't bother trying to be Chainsaw Man to attain it. Whatever, something like that. He doesn't want to talk about this, and he makes his thoughts on the matter known by falling backward with a lamenting grumble, head landing on a seat cushion, a hand rubbing against his forehead. ]

Fine.

[ Given how often and quick he usually is to cast aspersions on Aki whenever he sets terms or expectations for anything, it dawns on him soon after his assent that he isn't putting up enough of a fight. To amend this, his follow-up comes shortly after: ]

Just answer one question. [ The hand on his forehead raises, and looks into it as if it might hold the answer he wants and not Aki. ] How… did you know that you had enough of sex? That it didn't matter to you, that you were — [ What's the word he’d used earlier? ] Satisfied?

[He needs to take a shower, Aki thinks in the midst of Denji's brief silence. That he accepted quickly doesn't hit him until he suddenly speaks up again, and he reflects that, really, that was too easy. He looks up and across at him, at his question, and tilts his head to the side as he stares at him. Trying to translate it. His head feels sloshy, like liquid. This isn't how you do pillow talk, he wants to scold him. It's not like he's any better at it.]

I never said I had enough. [Maybe he misunderstood. Maybe he's just stupid. Truly doesn't understand the purpose of sex. Why people have it.] Sex... It's like food, Denji. [He leans forward and finds his shirt on the floor, uses it to wipe his own hand off. It feels clammy and cold. A little wet, still, from Denji's tongue.] Most of the time, it's just whatever. It's good, and it's filling. But sometimes it's like a gourmet meal. Hotel-style food... So good, you wish you could have it every day. But you know you can't. [Not unless you're rich, he guesses. He balls up the shirt, folding the dirty parts inward.] And sometimes it tastes like a day-old riceball. Or... Biting into a nikuman and realizing it's gone cold. Or plain soba, with no sauce.

[Denji understands food, so this seems like the most apt metaphor. He's had various types - devil guts, convenience store chicken, expensive supermarket sushi platters. He should understand the difference between them.]

I thought I was the plain soba. My first time, I mean - no sauce. No nothing. Piss shit, boring. I figured she'd never ask me again. [No, maybe he just prayed for it, at that time. That she might finally leave him alone about it. No dice.] But the more I had it, the more... flavors, I guess, I experienced.

[He looks at him. Like Denji surely understands, how that relates to this very moment between them.]

If you're going to run around being stupid, all for sex... It's not worth it, just for a chance to have a warm nikuman. It might end up being cold, when you finally dig in.

[And then what? Would he despair? Be heartbroken? That's why he doesn't want Denji to stake his life around this stupid goal. He wants him to search for something more meaningful. Something more fulfilling. Something filling. Surely he can understand that.]

[ Rolled over, watching Aki compare his past self to soggy noodles, he thinks about all the times he would have been willing to argue that plain soba isn’t so bad. That cold nikuman still goes down as easily as it does warmed. It isn’t the fault of the pitcher who keeps aiming for the pole, but the jerkwad who constructed something so inconsistently attainable in the first place — stuff like that, everything he would tell himself to get by. But apparently, there’s something wrong enough with how he’s been living that it's forced Aki to go so far as to beat him over the head with twice as many figures of speech than a regular person should need to sort out a better trajectory for their life.

It's working, though, a chord striking within Denji in a way it hasn't before. ]

…I still like sex and food, [ he says, lightly, as if treading over an icy river bed. Today's been a long one, so he'll do his best to wring his thoughts out all at once before Aki has the chance to snap at him. And afterward, Aki can go clean up and Denji can change into new pants or something. ]

But I think I know what you mean by stuff tasting like day-old riceball. Like, y'know, it wasn't as cracked up to be as I thought. Like there were times I could look and see on the packaging — [ He shifts back upright now, suddenly animated, maybe it's his post-nut clarity at work, but he stretches a hand over to tap against Aki's shirt, using the balled up thing as a substitute prop for actual onigiri. ] — that its best-by date had passed, but I still ate it. [ The shirt comes back with Denji when he withdraws. Barely notices his own casual theft. ] 'cause that's all 100 yen could afford, and if I didn't, I'd just starve… You ever rather have something expired than nothing at all?

[ It's a pathetic way to see himself, to see desire and sex and affection, but to his credit, Denji speaks pretty gamely about the matter. He isn't fishing for consolation from Aki — rather, in his own way, he's trying to reassure him that he's been listening along. ]

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, if you seriously think there's something more out there, something way more and way better that even I can get…

[ He'll try, is what he's hinting at. ]

[Aki doesn't fight for his shirt back. That was another benefit of Kishibe's visit - getting a fresh change of clothes. He doesn't even notice it, truth be told. He listens as Denji blathers his way through his own understanding, the shadows of his food insecurity in everything he says, making Aki want to get up and cook him a full dinner like he'd initially planned. Frustrating, that it still gets to him. He looks up when he finally settles on what Aki is trying to get through to him, and Aki nods, encouraging. Like trying to praise a puppy who just half-accomplished a trick. Keeping him on the right course.]

There is.

[There has to be.]

[Aki's own dream was shallow and stupid like Denji's. Kill the worst devil known to man. Now look where he ended up. That devil, sleeping inside him, twisting his body into metal at the slightest offense. But Denji is different. Denji can find happiness.]

[He has to.]

[Aki pushes himself to his feet, grabbing his underwear as he goes and rubbing his head.] I'm going to wash off. Get some sleep. [He heads into the bathroom without another word. Sated but not. Content with Denji's understanding of things. Hopeful. So stupid, to be hopeful, but he is. Denji is alive and he just felt it, just experienced it. Touched him, really touched him, for the first time and proved it. More than a pinch and he's still sitting there. He thinks about that as water runs over his face, washes away blood he didn't realize was stuck to his skin. He thinks about the blood he saw on Denji and how quickly he reacted. How quickly Gun reacted. Why?]

[When he shuts off the water, he realizes he didn't even turn on the light. Just felt around like a zombie, searching for an answer to all this sudden change. He dries off and gets dressed, then heads out into the living room to sleep. He still can't look at himself in the mirror. Without consciously meaning to, he sets the extra bed out in front of the door, as if that will stop him from leaving too early, missing him, even if he's always up first. It works out - he's the one who sleeps in that morning, unmoving under the bedding.]

[ Aki disappears into the bathroom, leaving Denji to freely reflect on whether he’s said the right things, made the right decisions — or just made all the clearer how much he doesn't understand anything. He wonders if he should have prodded him more about that stuff with Miss Himeno, or what other sorts of people and flavors he’s tried, because who knows when he'll ever get the chance to again down the line. He wonders, too, if he should have admitted that he thought Aki was more like soba topped with sauce and oysters and grilled duck. Sides of tempura and sesame tofu. But no, that would have invited speculation about what Aki thinks of him in turn, if he minds the scent of wet dog, and...

Maybe they should have spoken about Gun. Aki's hybrid transformation.

Actually, this is too much thinking for one night.

Nayuta's unmoved from her usual spot when he shuffles inside. He doesn't think to check if she's actually snoring or faking. Odds are, she probably would have made herself known much earlier if she overheard something incriminating, so they're probably safe. He heads straight for his hamper to toss in Aki's dirty shirt with his own dirty laundry, but halts right before he does, turning it over to examine its neatly tucked sides. Then, his nose dives directly into the collar. It doesn't smell half-bad for blood, sweat, spit, and gunpowder.

The next morning, Denji gets up early.

Not because he wants to, but because Nayuta's a good kid who wakes up at the same hour each day and demands to be fed. He tells her that if she keeps herself and the dogs down, he'll fiddle around with their dinky toaster oven and heat up some of the leftovers from last night. Nayuta sticks two suckers in her mouth and agrees. The dogs sneeze and pant and grunt, but they're otherwise soundless.

It's while Nayuta's standing on her tippy-toes at the sink to get the food bowls prepped for the animals that Denji manages to visit his bedside. Meowy, planted squarely on Aki's chest, chirrups at his approach and he briefly squishes a hand to the top of her head. Aki looks more boyish when he's asleep, which is something Denji was aware of from when he'd catch him napping after work or his head would come knocking against his shoulder during a late night movie — the only time this wasn't really the case was after Darkness. He looked haggard, then. Thinned out and laminated. Right now, his complexion matches more with that of how a young adult should look, or even younger, like they both could be classmates. Aki could probably fit into his uniform if he tried it on.

Acting on impulse, he grazes a knuckle against the fringe of Aki's hair, his forehead, past the dip of his brow. He thinks about inserting a finger into his mouth. But he gives his nose a tweak instead. ]

Wakey, wakey, princess. Mornin'.

[At some point in the night Meowy wakes him up by wanting to sleep on him for the warmth. He was on his side at that point but, upon feeling her in the dip of his stomach, turned over so she could take a more queenly position. He doesn't care. It feels good to feel the rumble of her purr again. He only really got to experience it if he had time to sit down for a bit in between getting home and Denji and Power getting home, and that was a few and far between luxury. When Power got home, she would get off of him and meet her at the door like a dog. Weird cat, he'd said.]

[But those small movements still wake him easily, so Aki is already blinking awake when Denji touches his forehead, then his nose. He shifts, annoyed at the contact. Then the name.]

Yeah... [It's been awhile since he slept mostly through the night. Meowy was the only thing that woke him up. When he starts to shift she climbs off of him and he doesn't watch her go, instead pushing himself up and staring at Denji tiredly. How's he up so early, he thinks, in a strange twist of circumstances.]

[Then he hears the clatter of a food bowl and sees her at the counter. Right. The devil. Aki rubs his eyes and pushes the futon back, getting to his feet so he can pull it out of the way. He doesn't feel like explaining why he put it in front of the door. Even if he thought up a few stupid excuses last night. I was warm. The floor board kept squeaking when I shifted. Stupid stuff when Denji never asks those questions anyway.]

You... Sleep alright? [What a weird thing to say. It's not like they actually slept-slept together. Aki shakes his head, rolling the futon to store for the day.] You need to get a coffee machine, here. [As if he's planning to stay long enough to make that worth it.]

[ Denji doesn't follow after, pausing to overwater the houseplants, specifically the one Nayuta's been neglecting for weeks. He doesn't say anything about the placement of the futon. He tends to implicitly accept that Aki has his own reasons for doing stuff the way he does. So nothing needs to be said. ]

Let's look for one over the weekend.

[ He glances over his shoulder, taking inventory of what counter space they have left and ponders what to shelve. Between Nayuta being so young and Denji having the same taste buds as someone several years his junior, a mud water machine wouldn't get much application if Aki ditches town. Instant coffee would probably make more sense for their living situation, but it's been a long time since he's seen Aki brewing something. It may not be a pourover, but it'd still be one less thing he wouldn't have to compromise. They could get away with stuffing the rice cooker in the lower cabinet, anyway. ]

Uh… I slept? Could've been better. [ The answer comes accompanied by a shrug. He crumples the bottle of water he'd been using, leaves it on the table as he reaches over to turn the TV on. Blood loss and jerking off would have had him dead asleep on any other night, but he doesn't mention that. ] I'll just snooze during class today.

[ The news zaps on. Some interview by an alleged former doomsday cultist promoting his book. Boring. ]

Hey, Aki. What were you like in high school?

[Aki follows him into the kitchen area, taking stock of something similar to Denji: they really don't have that much room. With all the dog bowls, it's even more obvious to him. He doesn't think about what Denji says too closely, how it sounds like a parent appeasing a child. Let's look this weekend. Something so domestic it still sounds alien to his ears.]

[He begins fishing around for something to make breakfast with, landing on eggs for today. He really needs to wake up earlier if he wants to make Denji a bigger breakfast. Especially if he claims he's going to be sleeping in class, which earns a flat look from Aki.]

[The question comes as he's whisking the eggs. He looks up, facing the stove so it hides the somewhat chagrined twitch it gives his expression.] High school... [That feels like it was so long ago.] I don't know. I didn't make a lot of friends. I'm sure I wasn't a pleasure to be around. [Definitely teenage angst mixed with actual trauma. He doesn't remember making connections with pretty much anyone.] Where I lived, in Hokkaido, that area didn't allow devil hunting clubs. I remember that was a big deal. Lots of kids protesting. I didn't care that much, though, since I wasn't interested in small fry. [And what else were devil hunting clubs fighting? Surely nothing bigger than that.] I lived in an orphanage, but back then, it was right after the Gun Devil's attacks. Especially in that area, any time you built anything, a devil would destroy it within the year. The fear was that bad. Our school had public safety hunters patrolling at all hours, since it was a larger public school. You couldn't join until you were eighteen, though.

[Of course most of his memories at that time are about devils. As a student, he wasn't interested in preparing for anything else.]

I went to Tokyo the moment I was old enough and enrolled in Public Safety. So... [He pauses to roll the omelet he's been cooking, difficult without the correct pan but it comes out neat enough.] I was probably the kind of student who didn't care about his classes. I just wanted to graduate and get out of there.

[Setting it onto a plate, he puts it in front of Denji as he steps back to make a second for the devil.] Probably not the kind of person to model your school life after. No friends, no clubs. Just a stupid, lofty goal.

[Hint, hint. He hasn't asked Denji if he has any friends, but the one person he was hanging around brought him to a devil nest. Doesn't sound too friendly.]

[ Apart from Denji interrupting early into his account to excitedly cry — ]

I knew it! I knew you were a delinquent! I bet you were picking fights and smoking next to the urinals the second your pubes grew in!

[ — he manages to keep most of his commentary to himself, though it's plainly an uphill battle for him. Hardly any of this stuff came up during their Hokkaido trip, but hearing about it almost makes him want to suggest another one, like watching a film a second time to catch all the references and easter eggs he missed the first. Yet Denji doesn't, principally because he knows what it's like to want to shut a part of your life out, deadbolt the hinges and chain the door. Keep the peephole covered. Never mind that traveling together is definitively out of the question while under the purview of the government.

Denji aims the remote at the TV screen, trying to flip to a different news channel. Still no word on either of them being sighted at Kabukicho. ]

I'm not trying to be like you. I just — I mean, I dunno if I'd call it stupid is all. I hear lotsa people took the hiring exam to join Public Safety after the attack.

[ One time, Denji stopped by a picket line of protestors on his way to school. They were handing out free tissues and juice boxes. They went on about all sorts of crap, like the blatant propaganda push by the Chief Cabinet Secretary to enlist new blood. The Hokkaido region would have been the primary audience for the campaign, but even while living in the grouted cracks of his backwater hometown, Denji remembers listening to his creditors grouse about the drain of human capital. Aki was just another name to add to the roster. Probably the closest out of his inducted class to realizing his goal, too. Just not as close as Makima. ]

I've only really looked at the devil hunter club. [ For assistance finding Aki. ] But I haven't looked into anything else — might be too late to join one now.

[ This whole time, Nayuta's been preoccupied keeping the snapping jaws below her waist bay, but noticing breakfast being served, she hastens her pace, crookedly lining up the bowls against the tiles and then skidding into her own seat, knobby knees running into the legs of the table. She makes a face at the eggs; up until a few weeks ago, these were all she ate. Denji pointedly doesn't look her way, continuing to chew.

It feels like they’re converging on an actual routine now with a third person entering the mix, tapping into something pre-programmed in them. Helps that regardless of the line he and Aki crossed last night, things are still more or less the same. ]

But you really never did anything? No karaoke? No batting cages? You looked so popular back in Public Safety. Didn't think you'd be such a loser as a kid.

[ Says a loser who does none of that, either. At any rate, he's conflating popularity with being well-connected with coworkers, but to him, it doesn't look all that different. ]

[Aki shakes his head dismissively at the idea he was a delinquent. He probably spent more time ratting other kids out than doing anything that could be considered suspect. Denji already thinks of him as a tight-ass, though, so he keeps that to himself.]

Now that I'm older, I think devil-hunting clubs are stupid. [He finishes rolling the second omelet and places it in front of Nayuta, not really looking at her. He's only feeding her because he knows he has to. Denji would be mad if he didn't, or worse - give her his own food.] Kids don't know what they're doing. They're just throwing themselves out there, risking their lives with no training. They should leave it to the actual hunters.

[Of course Aki still trusts authority over common rule. Despite being owned by the government, that hasn't changed - in fact, maybe it's even strengthened.]

But I didn't loosen up until I entered Public Safety. Himeno-senpai forced me to. [That should give Denji a better picture of him. That this is "loosened up" compared to when he was Denji's age.] She made me go to mixers and nomihodai. We used to have get-togethers to train on off-hours a few times a month, with other divisions. It was mostly just to blow off steam, drink and smoke after beating eat other up. [He has the nerve to sound fond about this. At the time he thought it was stupid and a waste of effort. But now, he's thankful for those nights. Not being alone with his own thoughts while eating dinner. Not staring at his own reflection in the blank TV screen. Not feeling alone, for the first time in years.]

That's how I got connected. Got information. Stayed on top of things. [He sits down at the table, not bothering to make himself anything. His stomach always feels weird the morning after using Gun.] And why I don't have anything left up in Hokkaido, so to speak.

[If Denji had been paying more attention, he's not sure what he would have seen. He didn't have favorite places to hang out, local restaurants he haunted. Hell, he didn't even live in his hometown after the attack. They shipped him to the other side of Sapporo, where there was room.]

It's important to make connections, wherever you're stuck. I didn't learn that until I was older. You still have time.

[ With nothing meaningful to contribute to the school club discussion, Denji opts to take another bite of his rolled omelet and let it drop. Yeah, he's heard things about them being considered a talent pipeline of sorts, more so for students interested in an accelerated training program prior to entering Public Safety or the private sector… But it doesn't change that, with or without experience, students and professionals are gonna get killed regardless. And indiscriminately, at that.

No, he's more concerned with the fact that Aki's telling him, in so many words, to put more effort into making friends now that he's not allowed to focus on getting a girlfriend. He sniffs. ]

Yeah, yeah, sure. You say that but easier said than done! Everyone's already got pals.

[ He unrolls a strip of egg, chomping on it in the kind of sullen way only a teenager would be able to. It's interesting — Denji claimed a moment ago that he wasn't trying to be like him, but hearing Aki wistfully talk about his time at Public Safety makes him wish he was still badged and sanctioned. Like going through the same thing, sharing the same memory, might help him understand Aki better. Make him feel less far away sometimes, and Denji less like a kid whose whimsies are getting humored.

"Just join a Chainsaw Man fan club, Denji!" Nayuta scoffs, unevenly portioning out her omelet. "Even my school has one! I lead our meetings during playtime." ]

Ooh… [ He actually considers it, more than he would doing something normal like asking someone for help on his homework or joining in on a game of basketball during lunch. Fan clubs aren't exclusive to schools. If he could find one out in the community, he'd be able to meet a more diverse pool of people… But he looks at Aki, nervously. ]

…That's a no, right?

[The look Aki gives Nayuta is cold. Absolutely not, he wants to say, but considering the way Denji looks at him, he seems like he already gets that. He doesn't say anything to her, eventually turning his eyes back to Denji with a look that says, Don't even think about it.]

What about that girl yesterday, who you were with? [Who Aki doesn't trust. Actually, he wonders if she was in the Devil Hunting Club... Ugh. Why can't Denji take up a normal hobby like sports or choir or something?] Isn't there anyone you talk to there? How long have you been enrolled - a year, and you haven't talked to anyone more than once?

[Sounds doubtful. Aki at least had acquaintances, if he really thinks back on it. Sure, he doesn't remember any of their names, but that's not important. Denji is more sociable than he is, he just... gets manipulated easily and everyone seems to want to kill him.]

[Still.]

Try and talk to someone today. At least talk - that's how you start. Alright? [He really does feel like an older brother doing this, leaning forward on the table and looking at Denji tiredly.] And not in some stupid fanclub.

["It's not stupid!" Nayuta tells him, but Aki doesn't even look her way.]

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