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

[ Denji’s not gone for long, leaving only to rinse the grime and darkened splotches of red from where they're most visible, as well as to peel some of the deadened skin curling at his back, the new flesh already seaming into place. He almost wishes Aki had tagged along to help him tear some of this shit off. That wouldn't have been weird, right? He's pretty sure he would have done it a year ago. He probably would have done it now, still, just looked all sad while doing it.

Then again, if he thinks about it, maybe the truth is Aki's always looked a little sad. There was just never a thing he could do about it, so it was better to not notice. Create a distraction big enough for both of them to forget. That's still something he lives by.

That's why, when Denji returns to Aki's side, it's to sneak up behind him and press a chilled can of iced coffee to the side of his cheek. He'd considered licking his finger and stuffing it inside Aki's ear, but found himself parched at the very last minute; Denji's other hand is squeezed around a can of tea. ]

Take this.

[ There’s a premature grimace on his face, one corner of his mouth twitching. He knows the next thing he's going to say is uncharacteristic of him, so… ]

And, uh, sorry.

[ He doesn’t specify for what. ]

[Aki is staring off into the distance when Denji approaches him from behind, thinking. His mind feels on edge, like at any moment everything will be ripped from him again. Maybe they'll actually try and pull Gun from him if he keeps this up. Maybe he'll actually die this time. Maybe they'll - ]

[The yelp he makes at the sensation of cold metal against his cheek is as undignified as anything. He whips around to see Denji there with a can of coffee and nearly smacks him up the head before stopping, staring at him. He looks...]

[...He apologized?]

[For what? he wants to ask, but doesn't. He reaches to take the coffee with a huff instead, still vaguely embarrassed by the sound he made. Stupid Denji.]

It's fine.

[He'll pretend it's for what he just did. Their train isn't due for a little longer, so Aki cracks the can open and takes a long drink. He can finish it before it arrives.]

...What does that devil like, that's easy? We can pick up something on the way.

[Never mind how late it is. Maybe she'll be in bed, but considering that she stayed up waiting for Denji the night before, he doubts it. Best to get her something that will put her in Aki's good graces, if that's even possible.]

And you need a bath. You smell like shit.

[Another long drink. It's his own way of caring, but he doesn't try too hard to make it obvious. Denji stayed out late two nights in a row. Who knows how often he does this? Aki hopes it's a rare thing, that he wouldn't do this sort of thing so often. That he would spend time trying to seek out that normal life. He knows it's not the case, but... Maybe, if Aki is there to pull him back, he'll find it. Maybe he can remind him life isn't all about sex and fame. Maybe he can remind him about the dream of going to Enoshima one day.]

[ Despite their volume, no one seems to pay them any mind. Just two friends, maybe even two brothers, fooling around.

He looks better this way, Denji thinks, his smugness all but see-through if not for his own drink tipping into his mouth. More alive when he’s flushed with annoyance and sipping from his stupid mud water. Not just the consummate professional that surfaces when he’s being a downer — well, he guesses Aki has every reason to be one, though.

That lopsided smile of his doesn't fade, even with the criticism; it's more or less the reaction he wanted from Aki. Something the same, something that isn't a grim reminder that they could part ways at anytime. ]

Whaddaya mean? I just cleaned myself up! See, good as new! [ Elbows akimbo, he rears his back to show him his handiwork, the tattered strips of his uniform fluttering. There are still specks of his blood here and there, like a spot behind his ear, but the tears in the fabric where his skin can be seen are unstained, reddened only from his scrubbing in the restroom. Of course, he still reeks from the perspiration. That hasn't changed with a two-minute splash at the sink. ] Lookin' as handsome as I always do.

[ All in all, he looks like a deranged idiot. His chin lifts with pride. ]

I mean, yeah, Nayuta will say something, but maybe if we get her nose plugs she can deal… She snores too much, anyway.

[Aki gives his work a once-over but still looks displeased. Not that he's much better - his sleeve has devil blood on it and his pants are muddied with something dark. They both look like pieces of work.]

Definitely need a bath.

[That's his non-negotiable tone. He sighs and downs the rest of the coffee.]

...You better not do this again tomorrow. I don't want to hunt you down again. Don't you know how - annoying it is, to wait for someone who doesn't show up?

[Scary. The word he cut himself off from saying was "scary."]

I saw some stuff on TV about you, too. That's the kind of life you want? [It's turned into a lecture, but Aki doesn't pull off the gas.] Doesn't seem like everyone's so thrilled with your "help." Seems like everyone just thinks you're some rogue devil.

[ If he were an actual dog, his ears would surely be flattened back against his head right now. In a plaintive voice, not precisely a whine but getting there: ] I was gonna show up.

[ He was just gonna get to go on a date, too. One that'd actually go well. Have his cake and eat it, the secret third option all heroes get. He doesn't care how skeptical Aki is that he is one. The year's been just as long for Denji as it is for him — and for the first time, he's given more thought to how he wants to live his life than ever before. ]

You don't get it. [ Denji watches the train glide in, tufts of his hair ruffling with the burst of air accompanying its arrival. His can, emptied now, smashes flat between his palms. ] This is everything I've ever wanted, the good and the bad. Not everyone loves Chainsaw Man, but the people who do — if they can love a rogue devil, they can love me, right?

[Sure, he was going to show up. By midnight, at the rate that was going. Aki gives him a withering look for the petty comment, but he's looking away by the time he says his piece about how great it is to be reveled and reviled.]

I don't know, Denji. [He tosses the can into a bin before getting on the train, looking back to make sure he's following.] I just think a quiet life is better than a loud one.

[A public train isn't the best place to have this talk, even if there are only a few other people in their car. Aki sits down and rolls up his dirty sleeve, as if it will hide the stain.]

...Promise me you'll come home right away tomorrow. [And before he can argue - ] No dates, no girls. Just come home. Alright?

[ Denji hides nothing: not the rags he’s dragging in with him, not his dissatisfaction with Aki’s answer, and certainly not the slight groan that escapes as he hears out the conditions stacked for him. Too honest in his mannerisms, even as he's in the act of surrendering.

From his seat, he stares sightlessly ahead at the train doors closing shut with a soft, mechanical hiss. The train begins to shiver against the tracks, sleeking past neighborhoods and industrial hubs. ]

Alright. I promise this time.

[ He does a silly thing, then; he holds a curled pinky finger out to Aki. He and Nayuta do this sometimes, usually when they actually mean something, like I promise to take the trash out or I promise I won't change the channel from the news anchor lady. In his eyes, it's more binding than an actual devil contract. ]

Something, something, I swallow a thousand needles, yeah?

[The dissatisfaction is obvious but Aki doesn't budge. He's expecting some kind of fight, dreading it, but instead he accepts it. It's hard to believe someone like Denji who seems to sometimes just say something to get someone off his back, so he's not wholly sure he believes him, though his brows raise when he holds out his pinky.]

[Of course he doesn't even know the rhyme. Aki gives him a sidelong look before raising his hand to hook his pinky with his.]

Pinky promise - hope to die - [He even slowly shakes his hand with each part of the saying, like a handshake.] - swallow a thousand needles - if you lie.

[Then lets go, dropping his arm to cross it instead.]

You're such a weird kid.

[Like he didn't just do a pinky promise with him on a subway while covered in blood.]

You're a weird grown-up. [ For going along with it.

There are some other, more inspired choice words he could say to that, most of which would simply reinforce that impression of "weird kid." But lulled into some semblance of pacified for the short while, Denji lets the conversation end at that. Leans back into his seat, doesn't seem to notice his shoulder bumping up against Aki's.

The ride is uneventful. Peaceful enough to make someone check their wristwatch and wonder why a devil hasn't come crashing through the compartment roof yet, and then to feel the full relief shoot through them afterward of another normal day gone and lived. Though he had that dose of caffeine earlier, the quiet paired with the comforting trundle of the car has his head rolling from side to side, his eyes fluttering shut, and then opening suddenly, every time he tries to shake himself awake. He vaguely registers other passengers shuffling in and out, stop by stop, but it isn't until he hears the automated voice announce their upcoming station that he looks over at Aki again. ]

…Ah. [ Denji's elbow nudges against him. ] You still wanna drop by somewhere to get Nayuta somethin'?

[The train car is comforting in that, for once, it feels like he's fading in. The sense of not standing out, no one looking toward him nervously. No one looking at him like he's a devil rather than a human. A tool rather than a person. He wonders if this is how Denji always feels. Then decides it's not. Denji would never notice this.]

[He glances at him when he asks that, nodding.] You need to eat something, too. You lost a lot of blood. [Even if he did grab something on his way out to Kabukicho, he should definitely eat something else. He gets to his feet as the train begins to slow.] Just stop in a convenience store and get something. Here. [And he digs into his pocket to find a few coins, offering them out. It's close to 500 yen - more than enough for Denji to get whatever he wants in addition to Nayuta.] Get me whatever.

[ Nice. 500 yen isn't enough to go nuts on, so that's probably why Aki's giving him free range. Still, it's chow.

Dumping the coins into his own pocket, Denji flashes an 'OK' gesture with his fingers. There's a little energy back in his step as they leave the station — there always is when he's got someone else's money to spend.

The visit to the corner store is so brief Denji doesn't bother making conversation on the way there. He's in-and-out a couple minutes tops before they're back on their way to the apartment. Tonight, he's so absentminded he nearly falls through the step he'd warned Aki of just one night prior, but otherwise, nothing else of note occurs. Nothing lies in wait, nothing greets them at the door. Once they step into the entryway of the apartment, the reason why answers itself: Nayuta's folded over the table, a line of drool wetting the pages of some Shark Kick volume she'd been flipping through. That's likely the reason the dogs aren't barking and clambering for their attention, either. They know better than to upset their master.

On the television, the late night news drones. Seemingly no coverage on Kabukicho. Denji frowns, slipping his shoes off and bending over to manually turn it off. ]

Gimme a sec, I'll get her out of the way.

[ Leaving the the bag of food on the table, Denji pulls Nayuta's boneless form up by her underarms and toddles her over to Tiramisu, who's standing at the ready for the usual routine. With a quick heft, he saddles her up on top of the dog and then both are off to the bedroom. It's as weird a sight as it sounds.

As he's returning, Denji pauses. Did they have that many seat cushions before?

…

He doesn't even bother looking the culprit's way, moving to dig into the contents of the bag, rifling past the food to pull something else out and frisbee it in Aki's direction. ]

Catch.

[ It's nothing close to equivalent to the groceries Aki bought earlier in the day, just a pack of plain hair ties… Also, even that's paid for using Aki's own money, so it isn't exactly a heartfelt exchange. But it's something. ]

Figured you weren't gonna buy 'em yourself anytime soon.

[He's a little surprised when nothing attacks them upon entering, but when Aki sees the devil fast asleep that changes to relief. He works on getting his shoes off and staying out of the way as Denji sets her up to go to bed - and nearly stops him from setting her on the dog because he thinks she'll just fall right off (or worse, hurt the dog), but he stops himself from saying anything when he realizes how practiced he is at it.]

[Definitely a weirder home life than they had before.]

[He's trying to think of where he left the cigarettes from earlier when Denji comes back out and tosses the hairties his way. Aki catches them and looks them over like it's an old toy, like it's something he hasn't seen sine he was a kid. He hadn't thought about it all day - how much better it felt to have his hair up. Now that it's fallen back down he feels a little relieved to have a pack of these on hand.]

Thanks. [Even if it was his money. He runs his thumb over them as he considers saying something else, an apology of his own for tonight, but...]

[...Eventually he lowers his hand and moves to sit down on one of the new cushions. It's fine. They can just drop it.] You should go get cleaned up. Then come and eat before you go to bed. [And he opens the bag for himself, curious to see what Denji got. He didn't realize it until now, but he is hungry. Using Gun like that is way more draining than simple bullets shot from his hands.]

[ Nothing too fancy resides in the bag, just onigiri and steamed buns interspersed with a few side dishes. If Aki searches beneath that, he'll find a couple pieces of candy, too. Chupachups. Denji never really did kick his taste for them after that first welcome party.

Waving a dismissive hand, as if to say yeah, yeah, he offers no more than a — ]

Warm anything up if ya need to.

[ — before heading inside the bathroom.

Back when they lived together, Denji was a wasteful bather, taking long soaks and keeping the water running the majority of the time. Now, he's a little more frugal. At least in the sense that once the tub is overflowing, he'll actually bother to turn the faucet off…

Honestly, if he could, he'd probably sit and prune in there for an hour or more, pondering dumb thoughts like what he might look like if he grew out his hair to Aki's length or something, but he does still have class tomorrow. Furthermore, he's starving — so after about twenty-ish minutes, he barrels back into the living area followed by warm and fragrant air, looking a little more rejuvenated. Water drips from the ends of his hair, staining the new clothes he'd traded his lost cause of a school uniform out for, but he seems perfectly unbothered.

Because, of course, he is when there are leftovers in sight. Everything else can wait until then. ]

[An onigiri is perfect for how he's feeling, something simple that doesn't bother his stomach. Aki takes the brief time of silence to enjoy it, savoring each bite like it's from a gourmet shop and not a convenience store that he's probably eaten from hundreds of times. He pulls his shirt off at some point and studies the stain on the sleeve and a few splatters on the back of it. The shirt itself is dark-colored but the marks still stand out. He'll still need to talk to his handlers about getting more clothes if he's going to stay here.]

[He hasn't really talked to Denji about that yet, though. Aki sets the shirt in his lap and scrubs at the stain with a bit of detergent he found under the sink. The stain has mostly set, but having something to do while he waits for Denji is useful, and he doesn't want to risk watching more TV and seeing something else upsetting tonight.]

[When he does come out, Aki frowns at the sight of his hair dripping.] You'll get a cold if you go to sleep with wet hair. You should... [And then he cuts himself off, falling quiet for a moment. After a moment he shakes his head, setting the shirt down with a sigh.]

I spoke with Master Kishibe. [This is what he had planned to talk with him about hours ago, when he got home from school. Not after the two of them ended up devil hunting in Kabukicho.] He has a lot of government contacts, so he's been helping me as a go-between. He said he would suggest my staying in a civilian home for the time being until word of sightings peters out. [It's a pretty roundabout way of describing it, without actually saying Kishibe said I can stay here, because it feels too much like inviting himself.] But it's not my home, so it's not up to me to choose that sort of thing.

[He has a feeling Denji will jump at that, go with his gut to tell him he can stay, but Aki speaks up before he can get a word in.]

You should think about your long-term happiness, Denji. Not the short-term. You're a student now. You should be planning for your future. And not just about getting to have sex - That kind of thing... You're going to end up disappointed.

[ Aki talks too much. This isn’t the first time the thought has come to mind in his tenure of knowing him, but it feels especially relevant now as Denji dispassionately holds his tongue. Not out of respect, of course, that wouldn't be like him. At the moment, he’s preoccupied, grazing from one of the pork buns he'd plucked from the sundry of items left on the table. It's pretty good. He'll have to save one for Nayuta.

It's as he's lapping up the last few bites from his fingers that Denji finally speaks up. ]

Why do you always have to complicate stuff?

[ The complaint first. Next, a sprinkle of delusional condescension: ]

Just 'cause you've had a ton a bad sex doesn't mean I will.

[ Even if his every experience up to now pretty much discredits that claim in an instant. ]

Obviously, I’m thinking about the future. [ Though his noncommittal inflection doesn't betray his supposed seriousness on the topic, he's not lying. School's gonna fly by. He'll graduate and finally be able to find a part-time gig around the city without the restrictions of being a student. Drips of water land in his lashes, but Denji doesn't do much about it, only pausing to uselessly push his bangs back from his forehead as he continues. ] I've been saving up money… Gotta put Nayuta through college and all that, so I have to. She’ll grow up good, get a little taller, make some friends. [ Essentially, live the normal life everyone keeps gnattering him about. ] I'm not gonna mess her up or anything.

[It's like Denji picked every word that Aki absolutely doesn't want to hear from him. He stares at him with a tight, almost constipated look on his face. Is he purposefully missing the point? Or is Denji really this stupid?]

What about you?

[Of all Aki's concerns, the future education of the Control Devil might be at the very bottom of the list. Right next to whatever the hell the comic she was reading is about.]

You can't spend your whole life taking care of a devil. A devil like that - What would she get out of an education, going to university? You should do those things for yourself, not some devil. What are you going to do with your life? [That's what he wants him to focus on. No, needs him to - that was what he wanted for him.] It can't be running around pretending to be some superhero just to get laid - You know sex isn't as good as you're making it out to be. It's normal, Denji. It's a normal, typical thing. You can get it without this Chainsaw Man stuff.

[ He's purposefully missing the point. And doing a horrible job at it, seeing as he steadily shrinks under the pressure of Aki's questioning. Denji avoids looking at him directly, his gaze fixed on the ground, on the loose threads of the shirt he'd set aside.

To know your own future is a hard ask. To be able to structurally plan for it, make something sound and spacious enough to fit all the things he's learning to want is an even harder ask. He doesn't know how Aki did it, if he ever got there, maybe the rifts in their sensibilities are just that unbridgeable. For one, Denji would never let a devil dance in his eye socket for a seconds-long glimpse into something that scares him. That's just how different the two of them are.

But it's not as Aki's asking him to do the impossible, it just feels like it. ]

…But how? If it's so normal, why the hell is it so hard? What do I have to do?

[He said all of that and all Denji cares about is the sex part. Aki reaches up to rub his temple with his fingers. He forgot how it was talking to him. Like a brick wall sometimes. Equally the dumbest kid he's ever met and extremely skilled at making said wall totally impenetrable. Aki isn't good with subtext, seeing the deeper turmoils inside someone. From the outside, all he can see in Denji is an insecure high schooler. Worried more about girls than his future.]

Denji... [He lowers his hands to stare at him over his fingers. Why sex? Why is it always sex? What does he think is going to happen when he gets laid? Does he think everything will suddenly make sense? That the touch of another will unlock a new understanding of the world - unlock a never-ending supply of happiness? He's so stupid. So fucking stupid.]

...Come here. [He sets his hands down on his knees and pats one.] Have you ever heard that saying about how the pitcher who aims for the pole will never hit it? [And the one casually tossing the ball without a target will hit it every time.]

What? [ The look he gives him is questioning, bewildered. Are they even having the same conversation anymore? They were talking about school, then getting laid, and now sports? Denji's a bad student, but maybe Aki's a shitty teacher, too. Just draw a diagram next time.

Shortly after his initial response, he gives the sorriest shrug ever, a minimal effort lift and fall of his shoulders. Sure, the aphorism rings a faint bell. If anything, he's probably heard something like it in P.E. ] What's that gotta do with anything?

[ Regardless of his doubts, Denji still abandons his seat cushion. His knees squish against the scratchy carpet as he sidles closer, yet not too close, like a stray keeping his distance until he sees something tantalizing to lunge for. He's sitting seiza and trying not to fidget at the same time, reminiscent of how he and Power sometimes would line themselves up whenever they got into trouble. This time, Denji's all alone now, though. ]

[Denji is, in a way, always in trouble in Aki's mind. He's a nuisance and too easily convinced to do stupid things and then double down on said stupid thing after done. He has questionable morals. So seeing him knelt before him doesn't even strike Aki as nostalgic. It's as common as seeing him with blood running down his forehead.]

If you spend all your time and effort trying to accomplish something, you'll keep missing it over and over. [To answer his question on how that relates to what's going on right now.] You miss too many things if you're looking through a pinhole. You need to have a broader perspective.

[That's not really the greater point, though. Without any explanation, he reaches forward to grab at Denji, aiming to force him even closer.] I'll show you. So come here. [And he aims to start yanking down Denji's pants.]

[ Denji's reaction is what anyone who knows him might expect — that is, extremely delayed. Stupefied. Every thought of his dissolving somewhere in the liminal space between feeling the vice-grip of Aki's hands tugging him in one direction, and his clothes in another.

When a certain amount of intelligence returns to him, he manages to croak out: ] Uh.

[ Oh? Hah? What? ]

H-Hwhuuuuuh?! [ The sound is tremulous and high-pitched, quite like the squealing devil shot to smithereens shortly before he'd found Aki yesterday.

It isn't until the waistband of his pants is slung halfway around his knees that a full-bodied jolt lances through him, kickstarting an incoherent sputter of disbelieving wait, wait, waits pouring from his mouth. Just who he's telling to slow down — Aki or his accelerating mind — is a mystery. His hands lash out but there's no plan, no idea how to reverse the tide of confusion that's already sweeping him under; he tries pressing away at first, ignoring the gooseflesh of Aki's skin prickling his palms, but when that solves nothing, Denji makes to force his fingers under his in an effort to pry open his hold. His shirt rides up in the wrestle of movement, half-exposing the strained plane of his abdomen. He doesn't notice. ]

H-Hey, this isn't funny, asshole!! Are you drunk?!

[ This is Aki. He's a judgmental know-it-all who can't keep his mouth shut when he's got a criticism to share, but the conflict here is that Denji trusts him, still trusts him even now, it's just — he just — ]

[Maybe it's good that Aki already pulled his shirt off before this, as Denji can't grab at him there. Not that he planned for that. He hadn't planned this at all - Hadn't thought about it at all. Back then? Sure, he thought of doing this. Of showing him once and for all what sex was like and how it was nothing to be so excited about. He'd thought Himeno may have done something about it, actually, but she wasn't bragging about it after so he knew that wasn't the case. And Denji was still constantly talking up how excited he was to have sex. And Aki was still imagining pinning him over the table and shutting him up for good.]

Don't hit me - [He pushes Denji over, trying to grab his wrists to keep him from swiping at him any more.] You dumbass, I'm not drunk. [His attempts to push away has Aki leaning over him in an attempt to get Denji on the floor, almost like when he would flip him over in one of their many fights. Usually Aki fought more with Power when it came to physical altercations, but he did the same with Denji more than just the one time he beat him up in the alley on his first day. That first day taught him a lot. Mainly, keep him from being able to punch or kick at his nuts. That's why he stays with his knees firmly at his side, straddling him with his torso instead.]

Look. [He exhales with a huff, trying to get his dignity back. Rolling around with Denji always makes him feel stupid.] If I can show you it's not a big deal, then you have to try and think about your future in a new way. Understood? [He says it like Denji gets anything out of it, even if objectively this is for Aki's sake. He's the one who wants Denji to reconsider things, to look for happiness that doesn't come with a side dish of peril. Why is he so against that?]

[ His chest heaves laboriously, no longer in a position to thrash around without hurting himself. Jerk. Shithead. And he was being so damn nice to the bastard tonight, too. He's considering giving another shot at kicking the back of Aki's head since his preferred target is out of reach, but the explanation, if it can be called that, gives him pause. It's hard to take at face value, but for someone like Denji, it's precise enough to open a vein of curiosity that seeps into his creased expression, trickle by trickle.

For a moment, he stares up at Aki. Searching for some sort of crack to this joke, sunlight splitting through a hole in the wall, but no, all Denji sees are those same dark strands he'd tied back this morning, gently framing the shadowed slope of his cheekbones. He kinda looks like a…

His gaze falls down to Aki's bare chest. Flat, defined. No, never mind. ]

Yeah, I understand! That you've totally fucking lost it. This is stupid.

[ But for all his griping, Denji's resistance flags. His insides flip and turn, an awkward cocktail of nerves. He remembers how he felt after fondling Power's chest; the cushions were fake, her reactions a mimic of pleasure, but there had still been something full and yielding underneath. Pillowy, how he'd always dreamed a real breast to feel like — yet never imagined the utter underwhelm, the crushing disappointment, when it was finally well within his grasp.

Is that going to happen again? And with no Makima around this time to console him? ]

What do you even plan on showing me…? [ Clearly, he has an idea by now, he's not that dumb. Doesn't make the strangeness of Aki wedging him to the ground with his full weight against his stomach feel any less unreal, though. Then, meekly, with a cringe: ] Is it gonna hurt?

[He's not trying to smack him anymore - that's good. Aki's hold on his wrist loosens a bit.]

[From Aki's perspective, Denji only wants sex for the pleasure of it. The carnal desire, rather than understanding the greater meaning behind why that desire happens. If he can show him the simple act of sex is nothing to be so excited about and instead show him that the connection is what matters, then surely he'll start reconsidering what it is he wants.]

Basic sex. [And then before he starts to panic or ask too many questions...] I'll jerk you off. No one has ever touched you there before - right? [It strikes him that he doesn't actually know that. And why does that annoy him, to think that he wouldn't be his first? No, it's not that he won't be his first. More that his point would be muddled if he's not.] If you can see what it's like when someone else touches you, then you'll understand why I think you're a dumbass for risking your life for it.

[In a way he's telling him not to get his hopes up. That he should expect this to be nothing special. He's insulting himself, really. But Denji needs to understand that the connection is what matters - that's what Aki wishes he would focus on. Not the simple idea of getting his dick wet.]

[ The more he listens to Aki, the stupider and almost more cross-eyed he looks trying to process. ]

…No…?

[ Admittedly, third base has been on his to-do list for a while. He figured the next time he experimented with this stuff, he'd actually be going in order and not jumping around again, but… But more importantly! ]

Um, you sure my junk will even get up? I'm not into dudes.

[ Technically, Denji does get that connection is an important aspect of sex. Makima told him so. Said the better you know someone, the better it feels, and he's pretty sure she was telling some variation of the truth at that time. Does that theory still apply under these circumstances?

He thinks he knows Aki decently enough. Well, up until he pulls crap like this, looking down on him like some type of clinician assessing a skin infection. ]

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