[dabi's content to tuck his hand behind his head, not minding he's probably getting some mess up there. at least he has the presence of mind to not do that with his bleeding hand, content to leave that lying on the bed where it'd been since getting dropped there. the blood's already starting to clot on the holes and gum a little in the seam between the back of his hand and the sheets it's resting on. really, not the worst injury he's had by a long shot. considering that fucking old man almost broke his god damn neck with that kick...
he only moves his eyes to find itadori as he sits up on the bed, half wondering if he was going to leave or merely wanting to stretch. the afterglow's likely drifted into the comfortable state of feel-good-but-still-moveable. considering the lack of blazing heat on his face, seems the guy's more in control of his emotions now.
listening to the answer is surprising. mostly because of how much it sounds like it means to itadori. for something so simple to dabi as seeing just one person in front of him, it's probably not the same if you've got something or someone else inside. he wonders if it's like hawk's little black bird friend, with that shadowy creature inside him. always someone there... must be a real pain in the ass to never be alone even when you want to be. never knowing if you're the only one everyone else is seeing.
can't just be "you" anymore... not that dabi's ever had the chance to simply be "himself" since he was always forced to see himself the way endeavor wanted him to be. did he ever have his own "self" before? he can't be sure. or perhaps he doesn't want to answer that question now.]
Doesn't matter who tells ya what shit, you choose to be you. Makes every experiences your own.
[perhaps that's easier said than done for someone playing host, but that's what he's going to hold to. this is their conversation, their experience, their time. after all, itadori had warned him about some undefined danger and dabi can now make an educated guess as to what it is. but he's not walked out. because he frankly doesn't give a shit. he's met plenty of people who'd be terrifying in their own right and he's willing to murder them if push came to shove. he agreed to be with itadori despite that risk and doesn't have any reason to abandon that. of course, the guy didn't try to kill him...
but the experience remains itadori's. never once he dabi feel like someone else was in the room with them calling the shots. it was always the same kid, dealing with this new overwhelming pleasure and zoning right out from it. sex is never that beautiful, sensuous thing magazines and books try to display it as. it's hot, messy, intense, and frankly you might not even remember half of it. but their time together, itadori's first time, belonged to itadori. no one else was taking it from him.
but please keep all those really mushy thoughts inside. they'd make him feel really weird because when the fuck has he ever given anyone those kinds of feelings? a failure like him only brought disappointment, usefulness/uselessness, and anger. he didn't even get chummy with his allies in the league. well, maybe some of them he got on with better than others. but none of them would say he made them feel like itadori's silently saying dabi made him feel.
fingers brush at his hair and the villain keeps his partner in his gaze. special, huh. he turns his eyes away from itadori and gazes up at the ceiling.]
First time anyone's told me that.
[he never made his parents feel "special". only ambition, disappointment, pain, and annoyance. even his siblings couldn't understand him or ultimately grew tired of him. hell, the one barely even knew him. no one else in the league would say he made something 'special' by being there.]
It's pretty good. Sometimes can get even better. [the shift to the physical response is an easier topic to settle into. dabi chuffs in amusement.] Ya made it pretty long for someone who doesn't even jerk off. [kind of expected him to explode the second he stuck his prick in.] Ya mouth, huh. Sorry I ain't the kind ya can leave a buncha marks on.
[no hickeys for you, itadori. at least not on the neck and shoulders where most people would instinctively leave them. the little dip back into doubt earns a wry smirk and dabi runs his hand through his hair.]
Don't have best or worsts. But ya were definitely one I ain't forgettin. [which probably says a bit because dabi's the kind to forget a lot of things he has no use for remembering. but at the mention of his hand, he simply lifts his injured hand (breaking the clotting seal on the wound), and looks at it. normally he'd just torch his own hand and cauterize the wound shut to deal with later, but figures doing so would lead to itadori freaking the fuck out and still demanding he treat the injury.] Ain't got no medical kit in here, so unless ya gonna do it over the sink with water, I'm burnin it shut.
no subject
Date: 9/22/21 23:12 (UTC)he only moves his eyes to find itadori as he sits up on the bed, half wondering if he was going to leave or merely wanting to stretch. the afterglow's likely drifted into the comfortable state of feel-good-but-still-moveable. considering the lack of blazing heat on his face, seems the guy's more in control of his emotions now.
listening to the answer is surprising. mostly because of how much it sounds like it means to itadori. for something so simple to dabi as seeing just one person in front of him, it's probably not the same if you've got something or someone else inside. he wonders if it's like hawk's little black bird friend, with that shadowy creature inside him. always someone there... must be a real pain in the ass to never be alone even when you want to be. never knowing if you're the only one everyone else is seeing.
can't just be "you" anymore... not that dabi's ever had the chance to simply be "himself" since he was always forced to see himself the way endeavor wanted him to be. did he ever have his own "self" before? he can't be sure. or perhaps he doesn't want to answer that question now.]
Doesn't matter who tells ya what shit, you choose to be you. Makes every experiences your own.
[perhaps that's easier said than done for someone playing host, but that's what he's going to hold to. this is their conversation, their experience, their time. after all, itadori had warned him about some undefined danger and dabi can now make an educated guess as to what it is. but he's not walked out. because he frankly doesn't give a shit. he's met plenty of people who'd be terrifying in their own right and he's willing to murder them if push came to shove. he agreed to be with itadori despite that risk and doesn't have any reason to abandon that. of course, the guy didn't try to kill him...
but the experience remains itadori's. never once he dabi feel like someone else was in the room with them calling the shots. it was always the same kid, dealing with this new overwhelming pleasure and zoning right out from it. sex is never that beautiful, sensuous thing magazines and books try to display it as. it's hot, messy, intense, and frankly you might not even remember half of it. but their time together, itadori's first time, belonged to itadori. no one else was taking it from him.
but please keep all those really mushy thoughts inside. they'd make him feel really weird because when the fuck has he ever given anyone those kinds of feelings? a failure like him only brought disappointment, usefulness/uselessness, and anger. he didn't even get chummy with his allies in the league. well, maybe some of them he got on with better than others. but none of them would say he made them feel like itadori's silently saying dabi made him feel.
fingers brush at his hair and the villain keeps his partner in his gaze. special, huh. he turns his eyes away from itadori and gazes up at the ceiling.]
First time anyone's told me that.
[he never made his parents feel "special". only ambition, disappointment, pain, and annoyance. even his siblings couldn't understand him or ultimately grew tired of him. hell, the one barely even knew him. no one else in the league would say he made something 'special' by being there.]
It's pretty good. Sometimes can get even better. [the shift to the physical response is an easier topic to settle into. dabi chuffs in amusement.] Ya made it pretty long for someone who doesn't even jerk off. [kind of expected him to explode the second he stuck his prick in.] Ya mouth, huh. Sorry I ain't the kind ya can leave a buncha marks on.
[no hickeys for you, itadori. at least not on the neck and shoulders where most people would instinctively leave them. the little dip back into doubt earns a wry smirk and dabi runs his hand through his hair.]
Don't have best or worsts. But ya were definitely one I ain't forgettin. [which probably says a bit because dabi's the kind to forget a lot of things he has no use for remembering. but at the mention of his hand, he simply lifts his injured hand (breaking the clotting seal on the wound), and looks at it. normally he'd just torch his own hand and cauterize the wound shut to deal with later, but figures doing so would lead to itadori freaking the fuck out and still demanding he treat the injury.] Ain't got no medical kit in here, so unless ya gonna do it over the sink with water, I'm burnin it shut.