[ 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.
{he's come to acknowledge itadori as strong, but watching the emotions the young man wears on his face only more proves he's still stupid and naive. to be so affected by one person's story... well, technically dabi had invited many people to be affected by his story, the world at large, but this wasn't the reaction he had gone for. he wanted his story to breed hatred for the heroes and mistrust in the society people lived in. he never set out to post that video and reveal his scars and sordid past in order to gain an effort by some hero to save him. the video was meant to attack endeavor. don't come to me! but alas, someone did come to him... this idiot with a weighty secret who got sucker punched by a stranger's chat and knocked windless by the truth behind it.
honestly, dabi's not sure if itadori's the worse fool or if it's himself. even daring to suggest the very idea he might give a shit about this weird kid enough to consider his feelings. but even if he knows full well he could drop itadori without hesitation, there's no denying that this guy actually gets it. the problems with society and the human behind the villain persona. he's a rare person who doesn't see the surface like society blindly drives for, but instead holds fast to his own convictions no matter what other people say. dabi knows even from this short time together, itadori can save people. not everyone, but he can save those close to him.
well... those who want to be saved, that is.
fingers wander along his skin, taking in the glide of his healthy covering and tracing the scarred flesh along a street-worn frame. ironically, most of his shoulder blades were still left clean from touya's demise and he unconsciously rolls his back up into itadori's calloused touch. a physical fighter from the feeling of those hands... sheets hiss again and he finds himself pressed to the sorcerer, legs hesitating for a moment before slowly risking the initiative to tangle around their ankles. staples scrape against the instep of itadori's foot, but he doesn't stop since the guy's never backed away from his wrecked flesh. dabi leans his head to the side, the crook of it invaded by a pink-haired head as itadori dampens the violet scar tissue with his breath.
why is this embrace so desperate? it's not the cling of a turned-on teenager or even an over-eager kid. it's the dogged grip of a lonely individual. he recognizes it as the same kind touya used to hold onto natsuo with as he cried his eyes out on his shirt and begged for some relief from a meaningless existence. so why, with all his friends and mystery school stuff, does itadori yuuji hold onto a villain like he's the only thing keeping him from a world of pain and suffering?
and yet, despite that undercurrent, there's no denying dabi's presence brings itadori comfort and warmth. the idea he'd bring those emotions to anyone is fucking laughable. except he's not laughing. there's something messed up with this kid and he has no idea what it is. but dabi's been around plenty of messed up people. he's merely curious, not at all afraid or disgusted. the arm resting around itadori's body remains where it is, hand dangling down behind him and fingers occasionally curling to brush spider-like touches across the diamond of his back. where the muscles curve and his spine bends. vulnerable, putting himself in the embrace of a walking crematorium, and finding solace in it. seriously fucked up.
doesn't dissuade him from those words he said. more people could stand to be like itadori. not 100% him, but if they were more willing to listen, to reach, to understand, maybe much of this could be avoided. who knows what would've happened if touya had stumbled off that mountain and yuuji had been there to catch him. it's a stupid thought and there's only a scant few times dabi's ever bothered letting himself think of "what if's" for any period of time. this is one of them.
would it help or hurt itadori to know that when dabi had grabbed onto shouto and tried to burn him to death above their semi-conscious father... that was the first time in his life touya had ever hugged his little brother... it's not the first time someone's ever held or hugged him, but it's the first time someone's done so for this reason. his father never did, his mother only did so out of fear and pity, and natsuo... eventually grew tired of it. why had no one ever hugged itadori? did someone this kind and cheerful really go through life without affection? that's kind of pathetic. but perhaps that's what makes it so easy for him to offer it to others. to try and ensure no one who crosses his path lives without at least some kind of affection. even if from a strange high schooler. some guy who wants to protect.}
Ain't makin that promise.
{it's a stupid promise to even ask for. itadori knows well enough dabi could die any day. or get caught and arrested. whether he dies during his fight with endeavor and against society or vanishes forever into the bowels of tartarus, there's no way he can promise not to disappear. somehow, he doesn't think itadori can make such a promise either. he's not going to give him little feel-good platitudes. fire doesn't comfort when you hold it close; fire burns.}
But I ain't gonna die until I'm done.
{something for him to hold onto. the knowledge that dabi's stubbornly going to keep his life whatever way he can no matter what it costs others (for him) until he can realize his ambitions. his father was the one who imparted that knowledge and drive into him; the art of sacrificing everyone and everything else for your own selfish path. who knows, maybe insanity's genetic. either way, itadori can at least hold that scorching knowledge as his promise. maybe it'll keep him warm at night.
tired as he is, dabi's not planning on sleeping yet. he'll finally fall under once itadori's drifted off to slumber. but it is comfortable here in his embrace. the rhythm of his breath on his neck, the beat of his heart against his chest, the constant undulating reminder this guy's alive and wants him here with him. ironic, but not exactly unwanted now. while he's by no means let itadori inside, at least the sorcerer is no longer across the street. he can stay in the foyer for now.
there's a lot to think about later. not tonight. tonight he'll accept a rare moment to rest beside someone who cares. let the world around them drift away. forget everything else except itadori and the strange feelings he brings. who knows who'll wake before the other, but dabi won't leave without him. if only for the dinner and sex, the kid's earned that much. even if things have to end tonight with the morning sun, at least he can admit he wouldn't mind a repeat. hell, already agreed to it.
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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? ]
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honestly, dabi's not sure if itadori's the worse fool or if it's himself. even daring to suggest the very idea he might give a shit about this weird kid enough to consider his feelings. but even if he knows full well he could drop itadori without hesitation, there's no denying that this guy actually gets it. the problems with society and the human behind the villain persona. he's a rare person who doesn't see the surface like society blindly drives for, but instead holds fast to his own convictions no matter what other people say. dabi knows even from this short time together, itadori can save people. not everyone, but he can save those close to him.
well... those who want to be saved, that is.
fingers wander along his skin, taking in the glide of his healthy covering and tracing the scarred flesh along a street-worn frame. ironically, most of his shoulder blades were still left clean from touya's demise and he unconsciously rolls his back up into itadori's calloused touch. a physical fighter from the feeling of those hands... sheets hiss again and he finds himself pressed to the sorcerer, legs hesitating for a moment before slowly risking the initiative to tangle around their ankles. staples scrape against the instep of itadori's foot, but he doesn't stop since the guy's never backed away from his wrecked flesh. dabi leans his head to the side, the crook of it invaded by a pink-haired head as itadori dampens the violet scar tissue with his breath.
why is this embrace so desperate? it's not the cling of a turned-on teenager or even an over-eager kid. it's the dogged grip of a lonely individual. he recognizes it as the same kind touya used to hold onto natsuo with as he cried his eyes out on his shirt and begged for some relief from a meaningless existence. so why, with all his friends and mystery school stuff, does itadori yuuji hold onto a villain like he's the only thing keeping him from a world of pain and suffering?
and yet, despite that undercurrent, there's no denying dabi's presence brings itadori comfort and warmth. the idea he'd bring those emotions to anyone is fucking laughable. except he's not laughing. there's something messed up with this kid and he has no idea what it is. but dabi's been around plenty of messed up people. he's merely curious, not at all afraid or disgusted. the arm resting around itadori's body remains where it is, hand dangling down behind him and fingers occasionally curling to brush spider-like touches across the diamond of his back. where the muscles curve and his spine bends. vulnerable, putting himself in the embrace of a walking crematorium, and finding solace in it. seriously fucked up.
doesn't dissuade him from those words he said. more people could stand to be like itadori. not 100% him, but if they were more willing to listen, to reach, to understand, maybe much of this could be avoided. who knows what would've happened if touya had stumbled off that mountain and yuuji had been there to catch him. it's a stupid thought and there's only a scant few times dabi's ever bothered letting himself think of "what if's" for any period of time. this is one of them.
would it help or hurt itadori to know that when dabi had grabbed onto shouto and tried to burn him to death above their semi-conscious father... that was the first time in his life touya had ever hugged his little brother... it's not the first time someone's ever held or hugged him, but it's the first time someone's done so for this reason. his father never did, his mother only did so out of fear and pity, and natsuo... eventually grew tired of it. why had no one ever hugged itadori? did someone this kind and cheerful really go through life without affection? that's kind of pathetic. but perhaps that's what makes it so easy for him to offer it to others. to try and ensure no one who crosses his path lives without at least some kind of affection. even if from a strange high schooler. some guy who wants to protect.}
Ain't makin that promise.
{it's a stupid promise to even ask for. itadori knows well enough dabi could die any day. or get caught and arrested. whether he dies during his fight with endeavor and against society or vanishes forever into the bowels of tartarus, there's no way he can promise not to disappear. somehow, he doesn't think itadori can make such a promise either. he's not going to give him little feel-good platitudes. fire doesn't comfort when you hold it close; fire burns.}
But I ain't gonna die until I'm done.
{something for him to hold onto. the knowledge that dabi's stubbornly going to keep his life whatever way he can no matter what it costs others (for him) until he can realize his ambitions. his father was the one who imparted that knowledge and drive into him; the art of sacrificing everyone and everything else for your own selfish path. who knows, maybe insanity's genetic. either way, itadori can at least hold that scorching knowledge as his promise. maybe it'll keep him warm at night.
tired as he is, dabi's not planning on sleeping yet. he'll finally fall under once itadori's drifted off to slumber. but it is comfortable here in his embrace. the rhythm of his breath on his neck, the beat of his heart against his chest, the constant undulating reminder this guy's alive and wants him here with him. ironic, but not exactly unwanted now. while he's by no means let itadori inside, at least the sorcerer is no longer across the street. he can stay in the foyer for now.
there's a lot to think about later. not tonight. tonight he'll accept a rare moment to rest beside someone who cares. let the world around them drift away. forget everything else except itadori and the strange feelings he brings. who knows who'll wake before the other, but dabi won't leave without him. if only for the dinner and sex, the kid's earned that much. even if things have to end tonight with the morning sun, at least he can admit he wouldn't mind a repeat. hell, already agreed to it.
itadori yuji, huh... what a cursed hero.}