[ hard to miss, indeed. a glisten that shines bright in their lightless room. even behind that anger, confusion and haze in dabi's mind, itadori couldn't help but to find every shift in his emotions as— beautiful. his own heart breaks with one word, then patches itself in another, that's how much power that man had over him. it comes and goes in waves, swaying under the sweet, sweet voice of a stranger who came into his life out of nowhere. he feels the weight of his arm over his body, only then his eyes widen a bit. oh, it's actually happening ...
itadori had been confident with his hands so far, too greedy and cocky in claiming dabi's body until he was faced with a warning for his unearned privilege. but, this? no, it's impossible not to fall for that bait. he takes in a breath; let his calloused fingertips feel upwards along the curve of dabi's lean body, so gentle. and then, with some pressure, he smoothed a full-palm touch against his back shoulder; they flex, pulling their bodies against each other— he ends up hiding his face against the curve of dabi's neck as he held into him. it was such a ... desperate embrace. as if he's reuniting with an old friend or a loved one. it felt familiar, as if they've done it before ... a long time ago.
he basks in the sedating warmth, eyes closed, his own back hunched— those fingers against the other man's back slowly curl up, balling into a fist. his breath is hot against dabi's skin; it stutters with every exhale. a moment later, it becomes clear. it's written all over his body language, and from the way he attached himself against the other. it wasn't a lovers' embrace. it's raw fear. vulnerability at its best, like the idiot he is.
weak. so fucking weak.
in contrast to dabi's words, and how the world would be less infernal and grim if more people like him are around— itadori is not living up to that compelling statement. he really was okay a second ago. why is everything falling apart over a simple little gesture? without any given cautionary too.
okay, deep breath. he got this. he's just a little overwhelmed. no one has ever held him before, not even as a child— or, not that he remembers? his grandfather was a good man, not affectionate though. a bit of a sob story, isn't it? never been hugged. dabi had it worse. far worse.
regardless, he should be happy right now, and yet it hurts. maybe because he couldn't fucking block dabi's words earlier; talking about how he's not worth saving, it's too late to protect him, the damage has already been done— the idea of being useless is lodged in him, down to the bone and the core of his soul. it must have been repeated so many times to the point it became touya's reality and the air he breathes; his own grasp of himself within his own family, in society, and on this earth. a failure. until this very second, even as he's willingly walking to his grave as dabi, seeking revenge, leaving blood and ashes behind his every step— there is a small part of him that still believes it. 'not worth saving'. ]
... don't disappear on me.
[ 'I want to save you' — is what itadori desired to say, but it was nothing more than forged promises. one he can't keep, even if he changed dabi's mind, society will not accept him back with open arms. those words will haunt him again- 'you're not worth saving'. it will take a level of strength, the type itadori didn't know if he had it in himself, so how could he ask dabi to do it? he couldn't.
that man had no home.
fuck. it's like someone dropped a heavy weight on his chest, and yet he's seduced by the idea of giving in to his exhaustion. it's mesmerizing, as he huddled under dabi's arm, feeling his steady pulse against his forehead. it's so dark, so warm, as they hid under the blanket, away from this world. their breathing almost matched in its rhythm, he's not alone in his bed back in the dorms, trapped between hollow walls. he's not alone with sukuna. someone is here with him.
it's— safe.
his heavy lids lower, eyes barely open. itadori is intoxicated by it all, his mind dancing over the edge of the unconscious. let it all go and figure it out in the morning, yuji. the original plan was to return to the dorms before sunrise, but fuck it. it won't happen. if he ends up waking up to a deserted bed; he wouldn't be mad. dabi has given him more than he could ever ask for. a night he will never forget.
no subject
itadori had been confident with his hands so far, too greedy and cocky in claiming dabi's body until he was faced with a warning for his unearned privilege. but, this? no, it's impossible not to fall for that bait. he takes in a breath; let his calloused fingertips feel upwards along the curve of dabi's lean body, so gentle. and then, with some pressure, he smoothed a full-palm touch against his back shoulder; they flex, pulling their bodies against each other— he ends up hiding his face against the curve of dabi's neck as he held into him. it was such a ... desperate embrace. as if he's reuniting with an old friend or a loved one. it felt familiar, as if they've done it before ... a long time ago.
he basks in the sedating warmth, eyes closed, his own back hunched— those fingers against the other man's back slowly curl up, balling into a fist. his breath is hot against dabi's skin; it stutters with every exhale. a moment later, it becomes clear. it's written all over his body language, and from the way he attached himself against the other. it wasn't a lovers' embrace. it's raw fear. vulnerability at its best, like the idiot he is.
weak. so fucking weak.
in contrast to dabi's words, and how the world would be less infernal and grim if more people like him are around— itadori is not living up to that compelling statement. he really was okay a second ago. why is everything falling apart over a simple little gesture? without any given cautionary too.
okay, deep breath. he got this. he's just a little overwhelmed. no one has ever held him before, not even as a child— or, not that he remembers? his grandfather was a good man, not affectionate though. a bit of a sob story, isn't it? never been hugged. dabi had it worse. far worse.
regardless, he should be happy right now, and yet it hurts. maybe because he couldn't fucking block dabi's words earlier; talking about how he's not worth saving, it's too late to protect him, the damage has already been done— the idea of being useless is lodged in him, down to the bone and the core of his soul. it must have been repeated so many times to the point it became touya's reality and the air he breathes; his own grasp of himself within his own family, in society, and on this earth. a failure. until this very second, even as he's willingly walking to his grave as dabi, seeking revenge, leaving blood and ashes behind his every step— there is a small part of him that still believes it. 'not worth saving'. ]
... don't disappear on me.
[ 'I want to save you' — is what itadori desired to say, but it was nothing more than forged promises. one he can't keep, even if he changed dabi's mind, society will not accept him back with open arms. those words will haunt him again- 'you're not worth saving'. it will take a level of strength, the type itadori didn't know if he had it in himself, so how could he ask dabi to do it? he couldn't.
that man had no home.
fuck. it's like someone dropped a heavy weight on his chest, and yet he's seduced by the idea of giving in to his exhaustion. it's mesmerizing, as he huddled under dabi's arm, feeling his steady pulse against his forehead. it's so dark, so warm, as they hid under the blanket, away from this world. their breathing almost matched in its rhythm, he's not alone in his bed back in the dorms, trapped between hollow walls. he's not alone with sukuna. someone is here with him.
it's— safe.
his heavy lids lower, eyes barely open. itadori is intoxicated by it all, his mind dancing over the edge of the unconscious. let it all go and figure it out in the morning, yuji. the original plan was to return to the dorms before sunrise, but fuck it. it won't happen. if he ends up waking up to a deserted bed; he wouldn't be mad. dabi has given him more than he could ever ask for. a night he will never forget.
why did it have to end? ]