[This all started because of a single kernel of popcorn. Or maybe it was before that - From that night when that human was crying and he reached out to Angel to solve the issue. What if he had said no? If he'd told Denji to deal with this himself, that crying is a human function similar to laughter, to your heart racing. He remembers when Makima brought him here that he had wondered if every day would blend into each other. Killing his own kind, chewing on their remains to satiate some sort of empty feeling inside of him. Using their corpses to feel a sensation that was otherwise forbidden.]
[Then he jumped out that window. Had pants wrapped around his neck. Helped disguise a human as another to buy alcohol - Played card games, told stories. All of those experiences are firsts when he's only used to repetition. Nightmares, killing, eating. Walking, working, sighing. The few firsts he has had are things like touching the hand of someone for so brief a moment that he doesn't even remember what his skin felt like. Just what the lifespan felt like when it spread through his core.]
[When Denji releases his halo, it should mean that he can think a little clearer, but in truth his brain is too far gone for that. He pulls him into the side of the sink and Angel gratefully grabs the edge of it, now fully pushing himself back against Denji, recognizing that the friction is making him act more - touchy. Violent, even. Running his mouth and tongue along different parts, and that, too, feels different from skin on skin. He shivers when it curls around his ear and his grip on his nape makes his hair stand on end and listening to Denji get off, it's actually good. It actually feels really good. It doesn't matter that it's someone he doesn't like - he was right. Humans will pay for sex with strangers, just like how this is a trade. Right? They're both getting something out of -]
Ah!
[Angel's head jolts back, shock and pain in his voice when Denji hits him. He blinks rapidly and for the first time sees himself in the mirror, how Denji stands behind him, the way his body shakes and jerks with each forward push of his hips. The next hit comes and he's not at all prepared for it.]
Ow, oww...
[He hangs his head down into the basin, fingers slipping against cold porcelain as his legs buckle and shiver. His own movements, temporarily paused thanks to the shock of each smack, shakily regain their flow as Angel raises his head again to try and look at him in the mirror, tries to make eye contact even though he isn't looking at him at all. Is just watching him, hovering over him like a vulture watching a rat writhe in its death throes.]
Take - Take off your pants... Hurry up.
[He has the nerve to sound annoyed about this, despite everything that's happened, despite how much more mussed his hair is than usual, how his red face nearly matches the color of his eyes, how his bottom lip is equally blood red from the tension of his teeth. Like he's annoyed Denji got to the bureau late today and they're only just now able to get down to business.]
[He doesn't entirely understand what he's asking for - Just that Denji is getting too into this, too violent, too rough. And this might egg that on more.]
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[Then he jumped out that window. Had pants wrapped around his neck. Helped disguise a human as another to buy alcohol - Played card games, told stories. All of those experiences are firsts when he's only used to repetition. Nightmares, killing, eating. Walking, working, sighing. The few firsts he has had are things like touching the hand of someone for so brief a moment that he doesn't even remember what his skin felt like. Just what the lifespan felt like when it spread through his core.]
[When Denji releases his halo, it should mean that he can think a little clearer, but in truth his brain is too far gone for that. He pulls him into the side of the sink and Angel gratefully grabs the edge of it, now fully pushing himself back against Denji, recognizing that the friction is making him act more - touchy. Violent, even. Running his mouth and tongue along different parts, and that, too, feels different from skin on skin. He shivers when it curls around his ear and his grip on his nape makes his hair stand on end and listening to Denji get off, it's actually good. It actually feels really good. It doesn't matter that it's someone he doesn't like - he was right. Humans will pay for sex with strangers, just like how this is a trade. Right? They're both getting something out of -]
Ah!
[Angel's head jolts back, shock and pain in his voice when Denji hits him. He blinks rapidly and for the first time sees himself in the mirror, how Denji stands behind him, the way his body shakes and jerks with each forward push of his hips. The next hit comes and he's not at all prepared for it.]
Ow, oww...
[He hangs his head down into the basin, fingers slipping against cold porcelain as his legs buckle and shiver. His own movements, temporarily paused thanks to the shock of each smack, shakily regain their flow as Angel raises his head again to try and look at him in the mirror, tries to make eye contact even though he isn't looking at him at all. Is just watching him, hovering over him like a vulture watching a rat writhe in its death throes.]
Take - Take off your pants... Hurry up.
[He has the nerve to sound annoyed about this, despite everything that's happened, despite how much more mussed his hair is than usual, how his red face nearly matches the color of his eyes, how his bottom lip is equally blood red from the tension of his teeth. Like he's annoyed Denji got to the bureau late today and they're only just now able to get down to business.]
[He doesn't entirely understand what he's asking for - Just that Denji is getting too into this, too violent, too rough. And this might egg that on more.]