Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He was simply acting upon the orders he had been given. It was an official public safety mission, and Yoshida had never been one to take his job lightly. Tasked to ‘convince, coerce, or if required, threaten the weapon known as Chainsaw Man into maintaining his civilian form’, he was willing to do anything to achieve this goal. It was created for his own safety, of course.

This scheme was simply the first that had come to mind when Yoshida read the word ‘threaten’ in the debriefing folder he was given. His own personal desire to witness Denji shirtless and struggling had nothing to do with it. Nonetheless, there sat Denji, half naked and soon to be struggling against his restraints when he woke from his ‘induced nap.’ 

The soundproof concrete bunker 15 feet underground they were both currently residing in might’ve been a tad overkill. However, bringing the boy back to his apartment would’ve been too personal for a work duty. That, and he didn’t need Denji breaking his stuff or hunting him down at his place of residence if things went awry. 

This plan is the only way.

Yoshida deludes himself as his hand ruffles the head of messy blond hair. A thought makes him pause as he realizes he has an opportunity, one rarely given to him while being around Denji. Deciding to satiate his curiosity, he lets his hand trail lower down Denji’s body. It’s a slow movement, with caution that he might unintentionally rouse the other a little too early. Hooking a finger into the waistband of the other’s boxers, he takes a quick peek inside.

Huh, so the blond is natural…

… and he’s bigger than I thought.

Sizing him up, Yoshida thumbs open the waistband of his own pants and double-checks, humming in approval.

Still bigger.

The abrupt snap back of Yoshida releasing Denji’s waistband makes his abdominal muscles twitch, indicating to Yoshida that the other would wake soon. Thinking he may as well help him along, Yoshida licks his lips excitedly as he braces a hand on the back of Denji’s chair. His free hand reaches for Denji’s bulge, palming him through the fabric. His stomach twitches again, and Yoshida wonders how much he might be able to get Denji all worked up before he wakes. 

The answer is not much. His curiosity gets cut short as Denji is already groaning and cracking his bleary eyes open about two strokes in. Yoshida inwardly curses as he retreats his hand but keeps the other one resting on the chair behind Denji. 

Next time. 

Yoshida adjusts his composure before giving the disoriented boy a stoic greeting, “Morning, sleeping beauty.”

Denji slowly lifts his head, amber eyes blinking as they attempt to take in his surroundings. Plain concrete walls surround him as he stares vacantly past the boy casting such a  tall shadow over him. He’s blocking the view of the single fluorescent light bulb dangling from the ceiling. Deciding he doesn’t want to cramp his neck staring up at the guy hovering over him anymore, Denji instead lets his gaze fall to the stone floor.

“Wha– the fuck is goin’ on right now,” he grumbles and shifts to adjust his position, pulling at the restraints on his limbs, only to find all movement futile. Feeling the coarse rope dig harshly into his skin, he gives up.

“You’re under my– our protection now, Denji,” Yoshida states with a calm smile. It doesn’t match the excitement in his eyes at all.

“I knew you were fuckin’ weird. No sane guy buys another guy lunch that often.” Yoshida’s silence to this only serves to agitate Denji even further. 

“Where the hell is Nayuta?! And the dogs?! Get me the fuck out of here before I saw your ass in half!“ Denji’s voice gets louder with each rapid-fire demand. Yoshida doesn’t feel like getting his ass sawed in half.

“Hold on, Denji, relax,” Yoshida brings a gentle hand to his captive’s cheek, reassuring him in an eerily calm tone. At this, the tension in Denji’s shoulders almost seems to dissipate for a moment.

“As of now, we’re… protecting them. Same as you," Yoshida quickly retracts his hand as sharp teeth follow it. When that fails, Denji lunges at him, closing the small distance Yoshida just put between them. He still lands unceremoniously onto the cold concrete floor—thanks to the restraints on his limbs—wriggling and writhing at the older boy’s feet. Yoshida restrains himself from chuckling at this.

“You touch them, and I’ll kill you dead! Send us home right now, and I’ll even tongue your butthole for a week to thank you!” Denji borderline screams at him, voice echoing off the floors of the underground basement they’re having fun in.

At this, though, Yoshida fails to contain his amusement, a stifled snort escaping from him before he steeles his composure. Squatting down to Denji’s level, he reaches for the head of blond hair, brushing pale fingers through the strands. The soft touch quickly becomes hard as he suddenly pulls at Denji’s scalp, bringing them face to face.

“We won’t harm Nayuta or the dogs, no tonguing necessary… for now. So long as you hear me out. We have a deal to make with you, Denji, regarding Chainsaw Man. Play along, and they’ll be just fine.” Denji, with tears pricking at his eyes, takes a moment to evaluate the look in Yoshida’s. His gaze then slowly trails down to the beauty mark under Yoshida’s lips. He catches Denji running his tongue along his own lips before parting them… 

And spitting right in his face, “Go to hell.” Denji’s head drops to the floor with a grunt as Yoshida quickly retreats to a corner out of Denji’s line of sight. He takes a deep breath, willing the blood to stop flowing down south to his cock.

“You test my patience, Denji, and our willingness to spare Nayuta’s life,” Yoshida warns, but doesn’t turn around. 

“And you’re testing my penchance for violence, you shitbag.”

Yoshida ignores the mispronunciation. This does, however, make him turn around. One look at Denji, craning his neck to glare at him, and Yoshida swiftly crosses the divide between them.

“Oh, I can show you violence, Denji,” another warning. This time, it’s laced with venom. Yoshida kicks his foot out, nudging the restless boy onto his back and pressing his foot down. Hard. Right on the dick Yoshida had been toying with just 10 minutes prior. He watches in delight as Denji’s eyes shoot wide open, and a grunt of pain is ripped out of his throat.

“Think about your next words carefully before you never see Nayuta again,” Yoshida's stare is ice cold, and sends a chill up Denji’s spine. Mortifyingly, Denji realizes some of that chill is also travelling down his spine, towards the direction of his twitching cock, trapped under the weird guy’s shoe. He compartmentalizes this for later.

“What the hell do you freakin’ want from me?” Denji’s tone is as level as it can be, with his dick getting crushed the way it is.

“Public safety requires me to–“

“No, no, not fuckin’ public safety,” Denji’s eyes are narrowed, interrogating Yoshida even though he’s in no position to be doing so. “What do You want from me. I know those public safety bastards don’t need me to be naked here on the floor of your dirty basement to get what they want from me. What the fuck are you doing this for, Yoshida?” 

Denji’s serious tone takes Yoshida by surprise, which makes him ease up a little on his foot. He’s been caught. Denji could be damn perceptive sometimes. He wouldn’t let it show on his face, though. Yoshida was trained better than that. His calculating personality tries its best to come up with something to manoeuvre himself back into more controllable territory. 

Taking his foot off the other’s crotch, Yoshida plants both feet on either side of his prisoner and narrows his own eyes. Without breaking eye contact with Denji, he slowly lowers himself to his knees, effectively straddling him. He is more than aware of Denji holding his breath as he brings a cold hand to rest against the flustered boy's cheek.

“Would you believe me if I said I simply wished to spend more quality time with you?”

Denji laughs in his face, “Hahahaahhahaa! Oh my god, you’re fuckin’ joking!” If not for the rope binding them together, Denji would be kicking his feet at this. Instead, he rolls around as little as he can until tears are pricking at his eyes. Yoshida waits until he is finished. 

“You don't have to strip me and kidnap my little sister for that, you little freak,” Denji’s words were harsh, pointed yet coupled with his remaining laughter. Yoshida’s heart stutters in his chest. Again, he is quickly able to contain how he feels about that. Instead, he lowers his tone for his next confession.

“What if I just really wanted to see you naked?” That seems to work in shutting Denji up. A sinful smile works its way onto Yoshida’s face as he watches the other snap his mouth open and shut like a fish out of water. Denji’s brain seems to be computing his words while Yoshida makes his next advance, slamming both hands on either side of the other boy’s head.

“If I decide to let Nayuta go. Is your tonguing offer still on the table?” Keeping him caged, Yoshida’s grin turns downright wicked. He studies Denji’s expression as his brain goes into overdrive. He seems like he’s about to overheat and shut down entirely.

The blond could only stutter out a half-baked response, “Huh– I– no what– I– I was just joking you– you fuckin perv,” looking as if steam was about to start coming out of his ears. His lips are moving so fast, it’s almost awkward as Yoshida leans down, pressing his own lips to Denji's flapping ones. The amount of pressure he uses is enough to still him though, and Yoshida leans into his warmth. The shock causes Denji’s eyes to widen, his lips to part slightly, and his body to go rigid under Yoshida’s touch. Of course, Yoshida would be a fool not to take this opportunity to lick into Denji’s open mouth, fallen into what would be a dumbfounded ‘o’ expression. This move gets surprising results out of him. Yoshida wouldn’t notice behind his own closed eyes, but Denji’s eyes fall shut, too. He does, however, feel the rest of his body loosen and relax underneath him. Something in Yoshida feels the urge to bring his hands up to either side of Denji’s face, holding him in place, but primarily just for the sake of holding him. His lips soften, not to kiss back but enough to let it happen, and Yoshida can’t get enough of this. Victory bells are ringing in Yoshida’s ears. He doesn’t stop until he catches the slightest hint of a whine coming from the back of Denji’s throat. 

When Yoshida pulls back, it’s to a sight he had only seen in his fantasies. As Denji lays underneath him, eyes blissfully shut, lips parted, panting, and shining. Yoshida fully appreciates the way he looks like this before Denji’s eyes shoot open with a nearly maniacal look in them.

“You like me,” Denji breathes out in a whisper, like it was some kind of secret. Now, it was Yoshida's turn to laugh in his face.

“It’s not like I try to hide it much,” Yoshida scoffs. He always thought his actions spoke louder than his words, just maybe not in Denji's case.

“Y'know, I was really only joking about the tonguing thing because of how you always acted like you liked me. But I didn’t think you actually did for real for real.”

Now, it was Yoshida’s turn to look dumbfounded, “that might just be the stupidest thing I’ve heard from you, Denji.”

“I’ve said stupider.”

God… Yoshida would jump on the chance to fuck him even stupider if given the opportunity. Thinking about it harder—with his feelings more out in the open than they ever have been—Yoshida wasn’t sure if he would ever get a better opportunity than this situation right here. Denji lay stripped and bare beneath him, and Yoshida couldn’t tear his eyes away from this boy’s mouth. 

“You still didn’t say your offer was off the table, though,” Yoshida hums. The fond look in his eyes, gazing down upon Denji, quickly turns predatory. 

“I wouldn’t mind a little tonguing, if you want to keep Nayuta safe, that is,” a hot pink tongue darts out between a teasing smirk to lick a languid line up the side of Denji’s neck, emphasizing his intentions. Yoshida is inwardly celebrating as he feels Denji shiver from the touch.

“Well, I fucking would,” Denji protests. 

“What, you don’t care what happens to Nayuta? And the dogs?”

“Of course I do,” Denji breathes out a little quieter, feeling Yoshida press a light kiss to his collarbone.

“So you would do anything to keep them safe, right?” Something in the way Yoshida says this has Denji huffing in disbelief.

“To keep them safe?” Denji parrots. A sigh escapes his lips as he screws his eyes shut, feeling cold hands roaming his exposed body, “... Yeah, anything.” 

A pale hand grips Denji’s hip while the other drifts between his neck, stomach and chest, grabbing at wherever Yoshida felt the need. “This would keep her so safe,” he practically whispers in Denji’s ear before licking and taking it into his mouth to nip at. Yoshida almost feels like he might be in over his head when he feels Denji begin rutting his hips against the weight of Yoshida on top of him. He was hard. Yoshida got him hard. Knowing Denji, this wasn’t that impressive of a feat, but to Yoshida, this achievement felt on par with scaling Mount Fuji. 

If Denji kept rubbing himself against Yoshida’s crotch like that, he was sure to pop his own uncontrollable boner in no time. Really, it felt like he’d been fighting one the entire time, here in the same room as the boy of his wet dreams. The grip on Denji’s hip tightens, holding the other boy in place. He couldn’t let himself get overly worked up over a little dry-humping just because it was with Denji. There was nothing Yoshida craved more than to see the other being the one to get excessively worked up over his own ministrations. Yoshida wanted to play with him like a toy, wind him up and watch him go.

In an act of mercy, Yoshida brings his other hand down from ghosting over Denji’s neck to instead palm the other’s cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. Relief floods Yoshida’s brain, as he is finally able to continue his short-lived activities from earlier. The groan that erupts from Denji indicates that the feeling is reciprocated. It’s intoxicating. Yoshida could listen to it every second of every day and never tire of it.

“No wonder your first instinct is to offer your body. You’re sounding like a perfect slut for me, Denji,” Denji’s cock twitches in response. Wetness starts to form from the tip, seeping through his underwear. Oh, Denji liked that. Yoshida feels like a kid in a candy store, or like himself at an all-you-can-eat Denji buffet. God, he wanted to eat him right up. Nipping at tanned skin wasn’t feeling like enough anymore. Yoshida needed to devour this boy whole. Or devour his hole, whichever one was easier.

“Turn around, get on your knees and show me your ass.”

Denji tries to sit up a little in protest, “Didn’t you want me to tongue your butthole?” 

Denji’s strange mix of apprehension and eagerness amuses Yoshida, “You’re so generous, Denji. But how am I supposed to trust you near my ass? One wrong move, and you could split me in half in the not-so-sexy way.”

Denji lets out a little snort thinking about such an image. It wasn’t funny to Yoshida, and he showed as much with a hand to Denji’s throat, roughly shoving the other back down to the ground before ‘assisting’ him into the position he wanted. Rolled over, Denji’s face to the ground and ass presented to him in the air.

Despite all his willpower, Yoshida begins to feel the strain in his pants. He needs to get this over with a little faster before he gets too excited and ends up getting carried away with all the things he wants to do to Denji. This situation was going exactly the way he wanted (and only mostly the way he planned), and he’d prefer not to end up doing something he’d regret.

“Have you ever had your asshole rimmed before, Denji?” With deft fingers snaking into his boxers, Yoshida punctuates his teasing by yanking them down hard, exposing Denji to the cold basement air even more so than he already was, eliciting a gasp from the boy still restrained. Looking down, he sees Denji struggling to look back at him, craning his neck in an almost impossible way to give Yoshida those big, wide eyes, equal parts scared and anticipating.

“Why the fuck would I have ever done that before?” 

“You offered it yourself,” Yoshida answered nonchalantly, fondling his ass. 

“I was joking!” Denji’s petulant huff sounded like it should’ve come from someone who wasn’t tied up and naked on the floor, bare ass wagging in the air. Denji was never good at being self-aware of his own predicaments. One more reason for Yoshida to find him the most endearing little devil man he’s ever seen. Reaching between Denji’s legs for his exposed and leaking cock, Yoshida gives him a few experimental slow pumps, watching the boy beneath him shake and tremble. It makes him look even cuter. Yoshida watches him with pointed eyes as his laboured breathing picks up in pace. 

“This seems to be going a bit far for a joke,” Yoshida hums, abandoning Denji’s erection to hear a short whine from the boy. He plucks out a small bottle from his pocket, popping open the plastic lid and pouring a generous amount of its contents onto his fingers. If Denji had bothered to ask him why he had that on his person, he’d simply explain that he’s a bit of an optimist. He can see Denji holding his breath as he circles his rim with a lubricated finger, taking pleasure in keeping Denji on edge like that. 

“Just put it in you assho–“ Denji’s breath hitches as his complaint is cut off by a long middle finger pushing its way inside of him. 

“Oh, I’m the asshole?” Yoshida’s teasing is enunciated with a swift press of his finger on his prostate, a spot Denji hadn’t yet discovered for himself. This drives Denji crazy, sending his lower body into spasm, knees trembling and toes curling.

“Ughh ~ what .. the fuck…”

“Feels good, right?” Yoshida didn’t bother hiding the exhilaration he felt on his face. Besides, Denji couldn’t see his face anymore, not with how his eyes were rolling to the back of his head.

“...No,” he said, like a liar.

Yoshida could see the way Denji’s dick was leaking, dripping onto the floor. Obsidian eyes watch in amusement as restricted hands clench and unclench, straining against the rope. That’s alright—he would let him try to keep his dignity intact. After all, this was his first time doing this, and Yoshida wasn't a monster enough to purposely make Denji hate it. Quite the opposite in fact, a small voice in Yoshida’s head was praying this wouldn’t be the last time, however unlikely that may be.

When Yoshida feels Denji is ready, he adds a second finger; the amount of lube he uses makes it an easy slide. Denji takes it surprisingly well, with far less protest than Yoshida had expected. He wonders if Denji had in any way been expecting this but quickly casts that thought aside. It didn’t matter. Denji was writhing at his every touch underneath him right now, just the way he had thought about when he was alone at night. The strain in his pants was becoming more and more unbearable with every minute that passed. He wanted so badly, to free his cock and drive himself deep into the tight hole in front of him. But he knew Denji wasn’t ready for that. 

Yoshida retreats his fingers to grab Denji’s cheeks,  spreading them and chuckling at the way Denji’s hips seem to follow his fingers.

“What the fuck are you doing now?” There was clear apprehension in Denji’s voice and Yoshida wanted to smooth it away until he wasn’t physically capable of questioning him anymore. 

“Did you shower recently?”

“I take baths every day, jackass... Aki said he didn’t like stinky roommates,” the second half of that sentence is quieter, like he didn’t know if it was something he should be saying. But it was good enough for Yoshida. He ducks down until he is face to hole and licks a small circle around the outside. It tastes like strawberries. Yoshida picked up this flavour of lube at the drugstore because he thought Denji might like it. He wasn’t expecting to be tasting it on Denji first. It was too sweet for him. When he dips his tongue inside, Denji makes a quiet garbled noise. 

“That… feels weird.” it sure must have. Yoshida could imagine having something wet and warm prodding around inside of him. He’d had enough of that with octopus. Maybe he wouldn't mind if it was Denji. Yoshida spoke as best he could without using his tongue.

“Yew offewed ib firthst.”

“Huh?” Before Denji can properly respond, Yoshida’s fingers wrap around his leaking cock, and tug on it harshly, pulling a broken, gasping moan from his mouth. Denji’s hips begin to shake and press back into Yoshida’s face before pushing forward into his hand in the smallest semblance of a thrust he can manage.

“Uahh… fuck…” As much as he might want to deny it, Denji was terrible at hiding how much he enjoyed being stimulated like this from both ends. Denji’s honest body motivated Yoshida to go faster, going as deep as his tongue would allow him and making wet sounds from behind.

“Wait– wait, Yoshida….” His ears perk up hearing his actual name being used.

“Can you… use your fingers again?" Wow, he’s even brave enough to tell him what he wants. Yoshida adores that, and happily obliges. His tongue is swiftly replaced with two of his longer fingers, going much deeper than he could a second ago. A full-body shiver wracks through Denji as he gets louder, shaky moans escaping between his laboured breaths.

“Haah ah, ugh Yoshida.. hold on… hah I’m gonna–” Yoshida’s pace was brutal now, angling his fingers right and abusing the spot that drove Denji crazy. Yoshida feels the other’s walls clench and spasm around his fingers before Denji’s hips jut forward, coming all over the concrete floor with a slightly whiny grunt.

Yoshida is in heaven. He watches Denji pull away and roll over onto his side, catching his breath on the ground. The way just seeing him like that jolted his cock was pathetic, and Yoshida, embarrassingly, feels like he might be close to climax himself already. He has to wrap this up.

“Good job, Denji. Pleasure doing business with you,” Yoshida says matter-of-factly, standing up and wiping his fingers off on his clothes, like he hadn’t done what he’d just done. Out of Denji's view, he reaches inside his own pants and quickly tucks himself up into his waistband. He doesn’t quite feel like fully revealing himself to be the nasty degenerate that he is to Denji just yet.

“What kinda business was that? You haven’t even come yet,” Denji stares at Yoshida incredulously, like what he said was stupid. Thinking about the implication that Denji would’ve been ready for more until he felt their exchange was equal enough made his head spin.

“We still have to talk about Chainsaw Man,” Yoshida derails his questioning, But he wonders how it would make Denji feel if he were to leave their exchange an uneven one. Only in Denji’s eyes, of course. To Yoshida, this was plenty. He actually felt this was almost unfair to Denji. But Yoshida decided to take a gamble. Maybe Denji would consider this job an unfinished one, one that might need rectifying in the future. It was a far-fetched idea, but he still felt like he needed several hours alone in his room, armed with his hand and his thoughts. Considering his course of action, Yoshida feels that handling anything else after what he just put him through might be too much for Denji.  Besides, he could still keep Nayuta as insurance.

“We can handle that tomorrow, though,” with a flick of his hand, a tentacle materializes to help ease Denji out of his restraints. 

“The last train to your place comes in 20 minutes. Meet me tomorrow at our previous date spot. I’ll wait outside the cafe for you at 6.” 

Denji crinkles his nose at the obvious tease that it was, “date spot?” 

Yoshida turns, heading towards the stairs leading to the ground level, “If you don’t come, I’ll take it upon myself to bring you there.” His tone didn’t carry any of the intimidation that a threat should, but it was up to Denji whether he wanted to test him or not. Looking back at the boy sprawled out on the floor, he feels the sudden urge to add one more thing.

“And don’t bother looking for her. You won’t find her. Just go home and get some rest, okay?” Yoshida pauses. The genuine concern that just came out of him for the younger boy's well-being felt like it came out of nowhere. He can’t remember ever expressing something like that for anyone. It shocks even himself, and he has to avert his gaze away from Denji’s frazzled one.

“I’ll go grab your clothes,” he states abruptly. Hearing Denji shimmying after him makes his heart jump a little. But he decides against looking back again for a proper goodbye, for the intrigue and for his pride.

“Wait, you’re leaving?? Don’t you fuckin’ abandon me here, jerk wad!” The rope keeping Denji in place is finally undone before he frantically shimmies his underwear back on and works on the bindings at his feet. Before he can fully stand up, Yoshida is already gone. All Denji can do is collect the clothes, folded neatly and waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.

Chapter Text

Leaning against a wall outside the quaint, French-themed cafe, Yoshida checks his watch again.

6:21 P.M.

“I fucking knew I should’ve kept him tied up last night,” Yoshida grumbles to himself. If not for his generosity, Denji would’ve had a shit night’s sleep on a cold basement floor, rubbing his wrists raw. Or maybe not. Yoshida wasn’t really that mean. Besides, he was a bit preoccupied with the torturous situation in his pants last night. Yoshida usually considered himself level-headed enough to ignore the whims of his other head. But with Denji, things were a little different. Pushing himself off of the wall with a sigh, he looks at his watch again for the 5th time.

“Go get him please,” a tentacle protruding from the wall beside him gives a slight wiggle, indicating an affirmative nod, as Yoshida claims a table on the front patio for the both of them. About 10 minutes later—after Yoshida ordered his usual iced coffee and a sweet treat for Denji—there he was, stumbling out of the cafe like a disoriented idiot. 

Though to be fair, that’s exactly what he was. 

After scanning the other people in front of the cafe, Denji spots where Yoshida is sitting and ambles over to him.

“How th’fuck does Octopus do that,” the blond-haired boy complains, taking the seat across from Yoshida. “One second I’m sitting on the train, and the next I’m hanging upside down in some random bathroom? What’s up with that?” Denji stresses, gesturing wildly with his hands, but Yoshida can’t decipher what any of those gestures actually mean. That’s okay. Denji didn’t need to know his secrets and he didn’t need to know Denji’s either.

“Do you like Boston cream?” 

“I dunno what that is,” the look on his face couldn’t be described as anything other than dumb. But that’s okay, Yoshida likes him like that.

“Good, I ordered you one,” Yoshida learned from the last time that it would be better not to let Denji embarrass the two of them by ordering for himself.

“Where the hell are you keeping Nayuta? I’ve been everywhere all over the city looking for her at all of public safety’s hiding spots,” the exasperated flick of his hands convinced Yoshida that he truly had been everywhere, in every place that you would expect public safety to hide a little girl anyway.

“Nayuta is safe,” Yoshida deadpans.

Denji points an accusatory finger at him in response, “And you lied about the damn dogs too, you fucker. I got home last night and they were slobbering all over me the second I walked in the door!” 

Yoshida also completely believes that. He can see the evidence of their assault all over Denji’s clothes. A young woman dressed in the cafe’s uniform approaches their table, their respective treats in hand.

“Here are your orders, sirs,” the waitress greets jovially, placing the iced coffee and plated donut down on the table. Yoshida gives a slight nod in gratitude. Denji, on the other hand, is too focused on interrogating Yoshida to pay her any mind. 

“You said I did a good job last night. You owe me this!” Denji’s ability to hyperfocus on the littlest bits of praise he received was truly inspiring. Yoshida wonders, if Denji had a tail how often he would get to see him wag it.

Yoshida doesn’t miss the eye roll from their waitress as she walks away. An open palm smacks itself on the patio table in obstinance.

“Tell me where she is so I can go get her and bring her home for dinner,” Denji’s serious tone is laced with a hint of pleading, signalling to Yoshida that after almost a full 24 hours, he’s tired of this game.

“Like I said, she is currently under our protection,” Yoshida sighs, tiring of repeating himself as well at this point. Now, both of Denji’s hands are being slammed onto the table.

“Protection my ass! You–“

“I already did protect your ass,” Yoshida meant this literally, but the double entendre wasn’t something he would complain about after seeing Denji shut up and squirm like that.

“...”

“Now about Chainsaw Man. Have you heard of the Chainsaw Man church?”

Denji leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, considering this for a second. The proud little smile that creeps onto his face is equal parts enamouring and infuriating, “through the grapevine, yeah. The little shrug Denji gives him shows his stance on the matter, clearly underestimating the organization. 

Yoshida will do his best to fix that. He takes a full breath to prepare his speech, “Their numbers are growing exponentially in recent weeks, largely from young high schoolers our age. Protests and conflicts are breaking out between members of the church and Chainsaw Man haters.” He watches Denji’s eyebrows jump like this surprises him.

“Haters?”

Yoshida notes Denji’s genuine confusion. It baffles Yoshida, the way Denji clearly doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him (if the way he acts is anything to go off of) and yet contradictingly craves the undying approval of almost every person who knows of his existence. Yoshida lets out a sigh of exasperation, “Yes, people who don’t like you.” Yoshida acts annoyed, but wonders if he would ever really tire of spelling things out for Denji. 

“But why? I’m a good boy,” it comes out as almost a whine, and the sad puppy dog eyes Denji gives him almost melts Yoshida’s resolve on the spot. He wants to end this whole charade and take him home to go swaddle this boy in a blanket and feed him treats. But he has a job to do. Denji’s life relies on it.

“People have feared devils on a primal level for millennia. For the average person, it would be difficult for them to see you as more than the devil you are. They want to see you be put down.” Watching Denji deflate over hearing this hurt Yoshida’s heart, but he had to hear it. It would be good for him to develop negative associations with his devil self.

“Feels kinda nice though… havin’ people fight over me.” Yoshida wanted to swat him on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper. People can’t keep fighting over Denji the way that they are or public safety will have to take responsibility for him. And nobody likes it when public safety does that.

“The chainsaw mania is getting out of hand. People have died at these protests. The church is even beginning to develop a political edge via parliament members lobbying for their numerous member voting power. You no longer have sole control over Chainsaw Man.”

“...And whaddya want me to do about that,” Denji mumbles through a mouth full of Boston cream, matching the look of annoyance that Yoshida is currently giving him.

“Absolutely nothing.” Denji almost coughs his food back out after a particularly large bite. He takes a second to pound on his chest and force it back down before his expression turns incredulous, “huh?” 

“I need you to never transform into Chainsaw Man again.” Hearing Yoshida elaborate doesn’t clear up any of Denji’s bewilderment. He scans the other’s face for any sign of something he’s missing while the boy across from him continues to sip at his iced coffee.

“... Hell no.” Yoshida didn’t expect it to be easy, but he was still hoping Denji wouldn’t make this harder than it had to be, “if you keep turning into Chainsaw Man… we’ll be showing you Nayuta's corpse.”

Indignation now paints itself on Denji’s face as Yoshida pulls out what he expects to be his trump card. He will not let Denji forget the reason he’s here, “I know that you long to live a normal life. Simply stop transforming, and that dream comes true… with Nayuta at your side. This is your chance to be human again, Denji. You’ll go to school the same as always. I can even stay with you as your b–.. friend. You’ll go home to those who love you, Nayuta and the dogs…” 

Yoshida felt a small inclination to add the words, and me . But he had been practising this in his head all day and wasn’t about to let himself get derailed. “Live as a human, Denji. You’ll be happy enough even without being Chainsaw Man, won’t you?” It was difficult to tell what Denji was thinking. With his head hung low like that, his eyes were obscured by messy blond bangs. The clench of his fists on his knees wasn’t enough to ascertain what his choice would be. 

Several beats of silence hang between them before Denji finally lifts his head to look Yoshida in the eyes. His lip trembles and sweat collects on his brow, “but I-... I want–“ 

“Denji!” From across the street, a lanky little girl with her dark hair pulled into a side braid is waving frantically in their direction. Yoshida curses her for ripping Denji’s attention away from him.

“Nayuta!” 

Before Yoshida can stop him, Denji is already jumping out of his seat and hopping over the patio railing, almost knocking their table over.

“It’s too soon to let them meet!” Yoshida shouted at the operative behind her, clad in a black suit and holding a half-eaten ice cream cone. But it was too late. Nayuta is already jumping into Denji’s arms in the middle of the street before the operative can even comprehend what Yoshida is saying. Would it be unethical for a grown boy to be envious of a preteen girl? 

Crossing the street, the operative gives Yoshida a bored expression and raises his voice, answering him, “You weren’t done yet?” 

Rage flashes in Yoshida’s eyes. The lengths he went to for this mission. For Denji’s safety. And this guy couldn’t even watch a 10-year-old for less than 24 hours? Yoshida’s fist clenches. All the abrupt noises draw the attention of their waitress who is now also yelling at him to pay for their food before he leaves. He doesn’t bother to count the stack of bills he tosses onto the table in response, cursing this whole situation while catching up to Denji, going through the patio entrance like a normal person. 

“Denji, listen to me!” Yoshida, in a rare moment, begins to panic, “You were about to choose Nayuta’s life and get sent home together! … Why!...?” Hopelessness drives itself into Yoshida’s brain when Denji doesn’t even bother to spare a glance at him, only ushering Nayuta closer to the side of the street when a car honks at them.

“Is that ice cream all over your face?” Denji pokes a finger at her cheek, swiping over the residual splatter and popping it into his mouth. He hums in approval.

“It’s mint chocolate chip!” She answers, practically gleaming. Obviously, to her Denji’s company was far better than Yoshida's unenthusiastic coworker’s.

In contrast, Yoshida now borders on hysterics. His trump card was going up in smoke. “Denji! If you turn into Chainsaw Man again, public safety will kill Nayuta!” 

Both of their heads snap in his direction, eerily in sync.

“Excuse me?!?!” Yoshida didn’t think such a small girl capable of a shriek so bone-rattling. 

“Denji, tell this guy to eff off! Now!!” Denji hardens his steely gaze at Yoshida, with a look much more confident than the one he was giving him just moments prior. It shook Yoshida to his core 10 times harder than Nayuta just did.

“You done?!” Denji snaps. Copper eyes bore into obsidian ones. “Then we’re goin’ home.” 

The two of them turn to leave and Yoshida feels his heart drop, plummeting from his chest to his feet. Yoshida didn’t expect his mission to be a failure, to collapse so miserably. He feels something pressed to his chest.

“Here, you get to hold it for her now,” the half-eaten and now half-melted ice cream cone dribbles a bit onto Yoshida’s shirt where the suited man holds it. As soon as it’s pawned off, the man turns and walks away, washing his hands of this failure of a mission. Standing alone, Yoshida considers what might happen to Denji if he were to ignore his warnings. A barrage of gruesome images floods his brain.

Denji killed by another devil.

Denji killed by the Chainsaw Man church.

Denji killed by Public safety.

Denji killed by his own hand . 

At this rate, the possibility of that last option was beginning to seem very real. While Yoshida usually had no problem killing with his own hands, he had a bit of a problem doing so to his first, kind-of friend, kind-of crush. who currently seemed like he wanted nothing to do with him. Gripping the ice cream cone, Yoshida feels he has only one choice. He takes a shaky step forward, then another one, in the same direction as the other two. His feet fall into pattern until he is slowly trailing them home. 

This mission isn’t over yet .

Chapter Text

“What the fuck are you doing,” the pointed question is accompanied by a pair of scrutinizing amber eyes as they stare at Yoshida through the crack in his apartment door. It’s left ajar, just enough for him to evaluate the sad excuse of a boy standing slumped in front of it, looking slightly pathetic, like a wet cat.

“Nayuta forgot her ice cream,” Yoshida answers lifelessly, keeping his gaze fixed on his own outstretched hand. He offers the cone that’s dripping and making a mess on Denji’s welcome mat and regards it wistfully. It reminds him of how Denji looked the night before, dripping and making a mess.

Unaware of Yoshida’s thoughts, Denji doesn’t regard it at all. Instead, he furrows his brows and continues to stare at Yoshida for a sustained moment, before slamming the door and locking it in his face. Yoshida stands there awkwardly for another moment, staring at the apartment number engraved outside his door, feeling the sticky substance drip onto his fingers. He brings up his unoccupied hand to knock once again, harder this time.

A loud huff is heard from inside before the clicking of an unlocking deadbolt. The door then swings fully open again to reveal a retreating Denji, stomping his way back into the kitchen where he had pulled out his groceries for dinner. Yoshida, thankful, silently follows him inside, closing the door behind him. This is his first time actually being inside the second-story flat, despite the many times Yoshida has already seen the outside. Glancing around the small apartment, Yoshida takes off his shoes and places them next to Denji’s. There, he finds the three pairs of shoes at the door, now organized by ascending size, to be rather cute. Yoshida allows himself a moment to fantasize of a little domesticity. He imagines coming home from work, groceries in hand, to two people who would welcome him home with open arms. He could kick off his shoes and lift his two people in the air, listening to their laughter fill the warm home before he asks about their day and they ask about his. 

Hah, yeah right. That was far more than Yoshida deserved. Moving on, he follows Denji’s path to find the kitchen, standing in the doorway, watching.

“Nayuta! Come get your minty remains!” Denji yells down the hallway as he washes vegetables in the sink. The girl in question comes barreling down the hallway before spotting Yoshida and freezing in her tracks. Looking him up and down, she lets out a small huff and returns the way she came, not unlike her older brother just a second ago. Yoshida wonders just how much of her guardian has rubbed off on the girl. He admires how two people in a house could influence each other’s behaviours so much that it was apparent to any stranger who walked in that they were a real family. Very much unlike Yoshida’s own solitary one-person apartment, their home was complete with coloured drawings stuck to the refrigerator, small Polaroid pictures taped to various walls in the flat, and … dog toys everywhere. Speaking of, “Where are all the dogs?” Yoshida inquires, noting how much quieter the apartment is. Much more than he expected from a household of seven dogs, or eight if you count Denji.

“I asked Kishibe to dog sit while I was out looking for Nayuta today, He should be back sometime soon to drop them off.” Of course. Leave it to Kishibe to get involved in Yoshida’s business exactly when he didn’t want him to. Getting found out about his kidnapping activities was one thing, Kishibe wouldn’t care about that if it was for the assignment. But getting caught in his target's home would be another thing altogether, an easy way to get too personally involved that would not be so easily forgiven by the old man. Despite the necessity, he doubts Kishibe would understand why Yoshida so desperately had to be here, longingly watching Denji make dinner for his small family. To Kishibe, hunting your target up close like this was always unnecessary and reckless. But if it was Denji, Yoshida would have to make an exception. Until he can confidently say his task is accomplished, Yoshida won’t be ready to leave. Denji’s uninvited guest would have to make himself scarce then.

“Hey, when he comes, do me a favour and don't tell Kishibe I’m here, okay?” Yoshida subtly pleads to the boy across the kitchen. He wasn’t sure how much Denji could be trusted with this task but he knew he wasn't capable of hiding his presence from the old man without Denji’s help. Silently, he also pleads that Denji won't make him explain himself. 

The boy in question pauses his vegetable peeling to turn and give Yoshida a brief inquisitive face, “Huh?” One look at Yoshida’s foreboding expression and his silent pleading is answered by a reluctant but affirmative nod, before Denji is back to his task. “Okay sure, yeah whatever.” They enter a silent pact and Yoshida prays that Denji won't sell him out, despite what he’s just recently been through at the hands of this stalker.

Pulling himself out of his worry, Yoshida notices the mess his gift is now making on the kitchen linoleum. Nayuta clearly wasn't going to accept his offering anymore. Searching for a garbage bin, he spots one in the corner and steps past Denji to get rid of his evidence. After successfully disposing of his mess he looks around for some way to clean his fingers before deciding the kitchen sink is just fine, even if Denji is currently occupying the space right in front of it. He approaches the sink, just a step behind Denji and reaches around the blond to wash his hands. Denji flinches at the pseudo-embrace.

“Don’t touch me, gay boy,” Denji complains, still irritated over Yoshida's empty threats on Nayuta’s life. Even so, he waits for Yoshida to finish washing his hands before shrugging the taller boy off of him. 

Leaning on the counter beside him, Yoshida returns the jab. Something he was used to, finally something in the past 24 hours he didn’t have to agonize over. “You’re one to talk, for someone who was coming on my fingers just yesterday.” His tone was hushed, a secret shared only between the two of them. 

Denji, taken aback at the mention of the very thing he’s been thinking about almost every moment since then, stammers and stutters for something to say to that. “You–… I’m not making any food for you, you butt muncher,” he manages, ignoring Yoshida’s chuckling before returning to peeling his carrots. focusing diligently, which Yoshida realizes is a rare sight for him. He takes note of the way his brows are furrowed and his tongue sticks itself out of his mouth ever so slightly. 

Yoshida sighs plaintively, “You don’t have to,” and decides to leave Denji to it. Grabbing a paper towel off the counter, he turns to the entryway in favour of wiping up his tracked mess. His ‘gift’ really did a number on the floors, leaving a sticky trail leading from the front door all the way through to the kitchen. When finished, he looks back to a concentrated Denji, chopping his green onions, and smiles. He looks really charming standing in front of that kitchen window, letting the sun's setting rays bathe him in their warm light. Yoshida suddenly understands why they call it the golden hour. If he didn’t know any better, Yoshida might’ve mistaken Denji for an angel, instead of the devil boy that he knows is standing in front of him. 

Begrudgingly, he rips his attention away from the ethereal sight and then turns towards the living room, being pulled in by the upbeat opening sequence that plays from the television. He walks over, joining Nayuta on the opposite end of the couch to tune in to whatever cartoon she is watching. Something about a little robot boy. The small girl doesn’t tear her eyes away from the screen to acknowledge him once. Probably for the better, Yoshida was usually more comfortable with kids in silence.

About sixteen minutes later, the moment Yoshida was dreading arrives as the doorbell rings. The cacophony of barking outside the door signals that Kishibe is here. Yoshida unconsciously sinks further down into the couch cushions while Denji leaves his station in the kitchen to go answer the door. A pair of dogs are bolting into the living room, and jumping onto Yoshida’s slumped form, smothering him as he holds his breath to avoid being discovered. Another runs in to come bother Nayuta, drawing a giggling fit out of her. From the doorway, the rest of the dogs drown out the hushed mumbling coming from Denji and Kishibe. The back-and-forth conversation seems to be friendly enough before the sound of the door being shut allows Yoshida to breathe again, even if it is a bit harder with the two additional dogs now crowding his space to sniff at him. Denji follows a full pack of dogs into the living room, thankfully alone, and snickers at the sight of Yoshida, absolutely drowning in dogs. A total of all seven dogs are now sniffing him, stepping on him, and wagging their tails all over him. Salvation comes in the form of two tanned arms waving pounds of fur away from Yoshida's corner of the couch.

“Go. Shoo.” Denji nags as he steers most of them away from the lanky boy’s slumped form. The dogs slowly dissipate, traipsing elsewhere in the flat and revealing more of Yoshida as they leave. Denji is able to shoo away all but one of the dogs, Tiramisu, who has taken to curling up on Yoshida's chest as the near-lifeless boy is languidly petting her head with his eyes closed. It looks like they trampled him to death. 

Suddenly, Yoshida's eyes swing open again to look up expectantly at the boy standing above him, who is looking intently right back at him. Denji clears his throat, averting his gaze and covering his face with one hand to hide his embarrassment at getting caught staring.

“He‘s gone?” Yoshida says this as more of a pleasantly surprised statement than a question. Willing the slight flush in his face away, Denji nods, “Yeah, he’s gone.” The warm smile that Yoshida gives him only serves to make his face feel even hotter. To avoid any more embarrassment, Denji abruptly turns on his heel to return to the kitchen before yelling at Nayuta to feed the dogs. After letting out a lengthy groan of obstinance, the young girl tears her rapt attention away from the TV to pause it and go do as she’s told anyway.

Yoshida is left alone on the couch. Well, almost alone, Tiramisu stays to keep him company as he mumbles out a soft “thank you Denji,” just quiet enough that only his present four-legged company can hear him. Yoshida knows Denji didn’t have to keep him safe, and had no reason not to rat his ass out to Kishibe and get this home intruder out of their hair. It would’ve been so easy. But Denji didn’t. And Yoshida couldn’t tell whether the warmth in his chest was coming from this feeling of gratitude or from the husky still resting on it. All Yoshida can tell is that when Tiramisu eventually gets up to leave, lured away by the sweet smell of dinner, the warmth is still there. When Nayuta returns to unpause her show, Yoshida’s eyes are closed again and he is already nodding off on that worn couch, finally feeling safe from his father this time.

In the kitchen, Denji’s complexion matches the red peppers he’s adding to his mix. Denji definitely wasn’t staring at Yoshida’s tousled bangs and his long lashes fanning over his handsome face. Denji would never admit it but, he looked peaceful like that, almost… beautiful. Only when he wasn’t giving Denji one of those creepy weird stares of course. Yoshida always struck Denji as more of a cat person, so for him to be so relaxed and free with affection for one of Denji’s dogs sure was something.

That was kinda… cute. 

Only nineteen minutes later, Yoshida is rubbing at his eyes and cracking them open. From the surprising quality of his nap, though, it felt like getting a full night's sleep, something he hadn’t gotten in a long time. When the episode is almost over, Denji can be heard in the kitchen, summoning both of them and yelling that the food is ready. Yoshida wordlessly stretches his long limbs and lifts himself from the couch, surprised that his own name is included. He doesn’t need to watch the ending but Nayuta will be invested for a couple more minutes. Trudging to the kitchen, he follows the scent of perfectly fried meat and steps over the pair of dogs sleeping in his path. 

As he enters the room, Yoshida’s jaw drops to the floor, seeing a full frontal view of Denji in his bright pink cooking apron with the words ‘kiss the cook’ crookedly scribbled on it in multi-coloured fabric paint. A gift from Nayuta most likely if he had to hazard a guess. Though if he actually did guess this aloud to Denji, he’d tell Yoshida that was wrong, and that he used to have another little sister. Denji would leave it there and casually leave out the part where this gift wasn’t even intended for him, but for someone he used to view as an older brother. With enough teasing though, Yoshida would probably come to learn that a little later anyway. 

Picking his jaw back up off the floor, Yoshida has to restrain himself from doing just what the apron says, and more. After untying the garment and hanging it on its designated hook, Denji gestures towards the three plates of stir-fried rice noodles sitting on the modest dinner table, tucked against the wall.

“Go. sit” his demand was curt but Yoshida’s heart still fluttered. Before he could take his seat though, Yoshida was nearly knocked over by the 10-year-old barreling past him and into her own preferred spot, right in the middle, facing the beige-coloured wall. Taking the last seat left, across from Denji, he stares at his plate in disbelief. Yoshida thinks he could cry. He wouldn’t though of course. He really can't believe his luck, in the past 24 hours Yoshida has gotten the chance to taste both Denji, and now his home cooking. This would make the takeout dinners he orders every night seem like eating fresh trash in comparison. Yoshida inwardly curses Kishibe and all the things he taught him, or more specifically didn’t teach him. He laments all the ways he knows how to end someone’s life while he doesn’t even know how to cook a good meal. Each of his own independent attempts always ended in failure. Yoshida wonders how Denji did it. If he had to guess, it was most likely with stronger perseverance and another person to care for.

“Hey weirdo it’s gonna get cold” Denji pulls him out of his reverie with a mouthful of meat. … Denji’s mouth, full of meat… Yoshida takes a laboured breath and digs into the meal like a ravenous wolf, with a ferocity that brings a funny look onto Denji’s face. Their chef for the evening opts to turn his attention elsewhere before the freak turns him off of his own food.

“So… Nayuta, where’d those public safety bastards keep you that I couldn’t find you all day, huh?” He interrogates her between bites, like a parent asking how their kids' day at school was.

“Oh everywhere really, yesterday the suit goon took me to the fun roller coaster park all day, and then to a fancy hotel to sleep in, and then today we went to a dog park, and then the arcade, and then a toy store, and then an ice cream store before we passed by you guys across the street!” Denji sat staring at her with a string of noodle hanging out of his mouth. That pang of envy came back to strike Yoshida again. While he slurps it up for his next question, Yoshida eyes the bob of his throat as he swallows.

“And how come you’re not coming back home with an armful of free new toys, huh? Didn’t I teach you better than that?”

“I was bored! There's only so much of those public safety goons lil ol me can take! I only stuck around with suit guy 'cause he said I had to, to protect you!” Hey, those were Yoshida’s lines. Denji turned a piercing gaze to Yoshida, not quite the attention he yearned for but he would take it.

“Liars, the bunch of them.” After swallowing his food, Yoshida gives Denji a placating smile under his wrathful eyes.

“Yeah, if we didn’t run into you I woulda just taken him out anyway” Nayuta boasted, flexing a scrawny little bicep for show. Yoshida can barely contain a snicker.

“Good thing it didn’t come to that” At this, the two of them share a serious nod in silent agreement, maybe part of some secret that Yoshida wasn’t privy to. Objectively, the food was just okay, but Yoshida wolfs his share down without spilling or dropping a single bite. His mouth is surprisingly pristine when he is finished. Denji’s, in contrast, has sauce smeared beneath the left side of his lip. In that moment all Yoshida can think of is licking it off for him, but he won’t. Not across the table, and not in front of the young girl he had threatened to kill just an hour prior. 

“Thank you for the meal,”  he says instead. 

Waiting for Nayuta to finish slurping up her last remaining noodles, Denji gets up to collect both his own and Yoshida’s plates, quickly rinsing and tossing them in the sink, then washing his hands and face while he’s there. In between mouthfuls of noodles, Nayuta turns to Yoshida, giving him a levelling glare.

“Hey, don’t ever touch him again, okay?” If Yoshida still had any food left in his mouth he might’ve spit it out. Did she know? No, she couldn’t have. All he can do is give her a curt nod to let her have the victory. He had no way of knowing if anything he could say in response to this would become a fat lie or not.

“Nayuta! It’s bedtime now, finish your food and brush your teeth” Denji demands from his perch next to the sink. turning to look in his direction, Yoshida notices the small flush on his face this time. He wonders if they are having similar thoughts right now. 

“Next time you take him from me I’m killing you!” Nayuta warns, a touch too gleefully as she slurps up her last noodle, runs her plate to the sink and sprints down the hallway towards the bathroom. Wandering to the fridge, Denji opens it and bends down to procure two cans from the back. Yoshida’s eyes obviously couldn’t be glued anywhere else but to this view of Denji from behind. The view, however, is gone too soon as he closes the fridge and tosses a drink to Yoshida. If his reflexes were any slower he’d be getting a hard can to the head right now, but Kishibe's rigorous training helps assure his safety once again. How does Denji even get beer at his age? Coincidentally, it’s also the same brand that Kishibe drinks. He doubts that Denji’s ID being ‘close enough’ was sufficient. Putting two and two together is weirding him out so he stops doing that. He didn’t need to be getting jealous of either of those two individuals for the other's favour. Favour that wasn’t being directed to Yoshida.

“So she was fine the whole time” Denji states matter of factly, like it was obvious, and cracks open his own drink, taking a swig. Yoshida doesn’t appreciate the blatant call-out.

“One call from me and our operative wouldn’t have hesitated to end her life if necessary.” Denji laughs out loud at this, filling the small kitchen space around them 

“I knew you were obviously so fucking full of shit you little perv. No way you’re capable of doing something like that with the mighty Chainsaw Man around,” Denji conventionally leaves out the part where ‘the mighty Chainsaw Man’ was technically the one he opted to kidnap over the defenceless little girl but that was neither here nor there at this point.

However, Yoshida doesn’t miss the silent confession that Denji knew Nayuta was in far less danger than he let on. He didn’t really need to allow all those things to happen. Yoshida recalled the obvious way he held onto Nayuta's name as a flimsy excuse. And yet he still let him do as he pleased. That thought lit a fire in his stomach. But, with his trump card disintegrating right in front of him, he has to come up with a new plan fast, for the mission, for Denji .

“You’re right” he admits quietly, opening and taking a sip of his own beverage. This makes Denji pause in his drinking, lifting his brows inquisitively at the boy standing across from him, probably not expecting him to be so forthcoming. “She was never in any danger.” 

Yoshida then ditches his drink to cross the short distance between them. Meeting Denji’s scrutinizing gaze, he braces both hands on either side of Denji, effectively caging him in. Now trapped between the counter and the boy towering in front of him, Denji’s breath hitches as he waits for Yoshida to continue, “but you on the other hand-“ a shrill voice coming from the bedroom down the hall cuts him off mid-sentence and Yoshida groans.

“Denji! Come tuck me in!” Denji, sighing, places his can on the counter before slipping out of Yoshida's grasp. following the voice, he disappears down the hall. Annoyed at being interrupted, Yoshida turns to the sink, preoccupying himself with the dishes. When he’s finished and the bowls are left to dry, he brings himself and his beer over to the couch to wait patiently for his gracious host to return.

About halfway through his drink, he hears footsteps padding back down the hallway, first stopping in the kitchen, then towards the living room. 

“She’s out now. Long day for her,”  Yoshida feels the worn cushions shift to adjust for Denji’s weight plopping itself down on the other end “Why are you still here Yoshida.” Denji leans forward, squinting his eyes at him. He faces Yoshida as much as he can, elbows resting on his knees and cheek in his hand. Yoshida in contrast is laid back, arm draped over the back of the couch. He’s made himself comfortable enough to make it clear he’s not planning on going anywhere.

“I still want you to think about my offer, about being Chainsaw Man.” Denji narrows his eyes as their negotiation begins.

“What are you offering me?” Yoshida would offer him the world if he could.

“A normal life, living day to day as a normal high school boy.” 

“What do I possibly gain from that, my life at school is nowhere near as peaches and cream as yours is. Chainsaw Man is all I’m good for, he’s the only reason I’ve ever gotten anything good in my life Yoshida.” his heart cracks just a little, watching those hazel eyes soften and sink down to focus on his drink. He watches the clench in his jaw as he speaks and the tension in his eyebrows start to build as he gulps more of his alcohol. Yoshida then begins to wonder how much pain Chainsaw Man has wrought upon Denji too. Yoshida suddenly feels gravitated toward Denji, leaning forward to mirror his posture.

“I could help you, Denji. I know you’ve worked so hard to fight for what you have now. All I want is to help you protect it. We could even be partners” Yoshida reaches out an olive branch and hopes Denji doesn’t snap it in half.

“I don’t work for public safety anymore.” Yoshida tries not to visibly deflate in front of him.

“No like… boy .… friends” Yoshida’s heart skips a beat as he chokes out his offer. The uncertainty that Yoshida is feeling right now is exceptionally rare for him. Although, so are most of the emotions that Denji seems to keep putting him through.

“We’re already friends Yoshida what more do you want from me” Yoshida’s heart sinks to his feet for the second time that evening and slides out of his pants, rolling along the floor. This time he really does deflate a little, unsure of whether Denji is doing this on purpose or not.

“Reluctantly, anyways…” Denji adds, like Yoshida looked like he needed an extra kick to his gut.

“Denji listen to me-“ he croaks. His can dents from how hard he’s gripping it. Denji lifts his own to his lips and chugs, finishing the rest.

“We’re done here, Yoshida. Leave.” he pushes himself off of the couch, making to show his companion out. Familiar images of Denji being stabbed, Denji being sliced, Denji being torn apart by his own hands flood through his mind. Denji really has to stop doing this to him. His hand is reaching out, gripping the younger boy by the wrist before Yoshida can even think about what he’s doing, and halting him in his tracks. 

“I’m not finished with you yet,” a touch of desperation leaks into Yoshida’s stern voice.

“It sure seemed like you were well and finished with me last night.” Denji retorts with a touch of petulance. Oh, hold on. Hold on hold on. Yoshida’s brain reboots. Is that what he thought? That Yoshida simply hadn’t wished to continue anything else with him? The fact that he’d come to that conclusion at all meant that he’s been thinking about it, maybe even wishing they had continued. Scratch this current plan he has to rework his approach. If threatening and convincing him didn’t work, maybe he could try one last thing. Yoshida’s grip on his wrist tightens before yanking him back down onto the couch. The space between them diminishes as Yoshida scoots himself to sit beside Denji, crowding his personal space, face to face.

“Why, were you hoping for more?” Denji’s gaze drifts to Yoshida’s lips for a split second before his tongue darts out to wet his own. Illuminated by the idle television light, Denji’s amber eyes were almost glowing. He was radiant. Looking at him make this expression, Yoshida could almost fool himself into thinking Denji might like him back just as much as he did. He didn’t have time for nonsensical thoughts like that though, no use deciphering what was in Denji’s devil heart. He needed to get into his pants.

“I don’t get you, weirdo. First you’re stalking me and buying me all that food, then telling me you like me and playing around with me, then you’re dropping me the next second? just to go right back to stalking me again. What the hell do you want from me?” Denji’s eyes fix themselves back on Yoshida’s, searching. For what, he didn’t know, but he doubted Denji would find it in something so dark. Yoshida leans forward the smallest bit to whisper in Denji’s ear.

“I want to play with you again Denji.” He was laying it on thick. The lilt he used in his voice was downright sinful and the leer on his face told Denji exactly what he wanted from him. A small lick to the boys ear draws a quiet gasp out of him.

“Oh… okay then,” he couldn’t tell if it was his imagination but Denji’s response seemed a little dejected in a way. Either way, Yoshida was positive he could fix that. “Just.. don’t do what you did last time” 

“It was your own idea Denji” Yoshida teasingly reminded him.

“I didn’t mean that you dumbass just… do whatever you want.” Even something as small as Denji’s resigned go ahead was enough to make Yoshida inwardly jump for joy. He would even be kicking his legs if he was alone. He’s going to get to have Denji all to himself again without tying him up this time, though he wouldn’t mind doing it again.

“Huh- that was easier than I thought.” Yoshida mused aloud.

“You really calling me easy, you jackass??” A hand rushes forward to fist itself in Yoshida’s shirt collar angrily. He wonders if it’s too late to restrain him. Whatever, he would just have to work a little harder to please Denji, enough to avoid a saw to the face. Placating him, Yoshida brings a hand up to hold him by the cheek 

“No, Denji, that makes me happy” the genuine tenderness in Yoshida’s voice makes the other boy loosen his grip. Yoshida takes the opportunity to place a hand on his chest and push him backwards to relax onto the armrest of the couch. To Yoshida’s surprise, Denji is already spreading his legs, placing them on either side of Yoshida’s lap. 

“What a good boy.” Yoshida coos. At the praise, Denji looks up at him with half-lidded eyes and leans into the gentle touches Yoshida places on his cheek and then his neck. his hands then begin to wander down, rubbing his chest through his shirt, and then his waist. The can in his other hand that Yoshida almost forgot about weighs heavy and feels almost entirely full. Yoshida had been preoccupied by something else but now he needed his other hand. Rubbing circles in the dip inside Denji’s hip, he finishes the rest of his beer and tosses it aside.

“You tryin to get drunk or something?” Denji huffs out, like he was offended somehow. Not like this was enough to get him drunk anyway. Kishibe’s drinking habits helped  build his tolerance at an early age, even if it was unintentional. Yoshida takes a moment to admire the subtle flush on Denji’s face though and wonders what his tolerance is like.

“I just need to get both of my hands on you,” he breathes out. To reinforce this, he takes both of his hands and curls them into the hem of Denji’s shirt, roughly tugging upwards to reveal tanned skin, eliciting a gasp from the boy underneath him. Yoshida sits amused by the way his nipples are already hard, pink and waiting for attention. Keeping his grip on the shirt with one hand he uses the other to toy with them, intentionally avoiding the ripcord emerging from the center of his chest. It intrigued Yoshida to no end. He yearned to toy with it and have Denji hanging from his grasp by a string. But not until he could manipulate Denji into trusting him completely. Besides, he didn’t need a gruesome accident right now. Yoshida settles for toying with the rest of his upper body, eventually leaning down to use his tongue as well. He relishes the way Denji’s back arches up into the touch, clearly enjoying all the attention Yoshida is lavishing upon him.

“Your body’s really sensitive to the smallest stimulation huh, I’ve never met someone so touch starved as you.” He punctuates his teasing with a bite.

“Ugh- I… touch myself plenty enough.” Yoshida laughs at his comeback, probably not meant to be as much of a confession as it was. A leery smile creeps its way onto his face. 

“Oh really?” Yoshida wants to pull more out of him. “Where do you touch yourself? What do you think about? Does it feel different when someone else touches you?” He shoots questions back to back, not even giving Denji enough time to respond. Needless to say, Yoshida’s curiosity has never been piqued higher. Denji deals with this by shoving a hand into the perverts face.

“Shut up you creep.” 

“You don’t really seem like you want me to shut up.” Yoshida’s eyes trail downwards towards the tent in Denji’s pants. “This telling me otherwise.” He draws Denji’s own attention down to it by pressing a wandering hand to his bulge. Denji’s reaction only riles Yoshida up even more. He’s lifting his hips, pushing up into his hand, silently begging for more friction.

“Stop teasing just hurry up and do it already.” As cute  as Denji is right now, Yoshida doesn’t quite feel like giving him what he wants just yet. Denji should learn that being bossy isn’t going to get him very far with Yoshida. He continues the small pattern of applying pressure just where Denji wants it, making him groan and twitch, and then taking it off to watch his hips chase after the sensation. 

“God- please Yoshida, cmon,” that was more like it. This was the side of Denji that he wanted to pull out of him and be rough with. He rewards him with a tight squeeze of his hand, gripping the shape of him through the taut denim.

“Call me Hirofumi.” This comes out as more of an order than he intended, but he hopes the tenderness behind it still comes across. Bringing his attention back up to Denji’s face, Yoshida watches those copper eyes glaze over. The way this is what’s bringing them closer together is almost funny to him, though Denji doesn’t show any indication of feeling the same. In fact, the half-lidded eyes staring back at him seem to be filled with affection, though Yoshida doesn’t know what he’s done to earn it. The way Denji breathes out his name, full of reverence, gives him goosebumps.

“... Okay… Hiro.” Yoshida almost purrs, pleased with his obedience, and riled up by the sudden nickname. He finally shows mercy. He pulls the zipper down on his jeans, yanking his boxers down to free the leaking cock trapped underneath. The relief on Denji’s face is palpable. Yoshida wants to see all of the faces he can make. Spitting into his hand, he begins stroking him vigorously, pulling gasping broken moans out of Denji that he wants to listen to on repeat. Denji’s head is thrown back, with thighs clamping around Yoshida’s waist and hands grabbing at Yoshida’s wrists. The aggressive pace he’s using seems to almost be too much for Denji. But he can’t stop himself. The slide of his fist is too easy, aided by the mixture of his own spit and Denji’s precum. He watches Denji’s exposed chest abruptly rise and fall, panting in time with Yoshida’s pumps. He needs to pull more out of him.

“Does it feel better than your own fist? What are you thinking about now?” Yoshida can’t get enough of this boy. He wants to devour him whole, to crawl inside his skin and live inside his brain, he needs to watch him crumble apart completely just so he can build him back up again.

“God shut up shut up,” Denji screws his eyes shut and tries to stave off his panting, getting closer and closer, until Yoshida stops. Denji bucks his hip back up, following his hands, searching for the stimulation again. When he realises it’s gone completely, his head is shooting  forward to find out what happened. One look back up at Yoshida’s expectant face with raised eyebrows and Denji is huffing.

“Ugh, I don’t usually think about anything okay?? Usually I just like to focus on how good it feels.” This isn't the answer Yoshida was expecting. Though it made sense for Denji’s sensation driven brain. Yoshida thought that with enough coaxing he would begin to describe things you might see in porn, maybe boobs, or perhaps his favourite idol getting fucked. He wanted some insight on what kinds of things Denji might be into, though if Denji didn’t even know himself, perhaps Yoshida might be willing to show him. Yoshida grabs his length again and Denji huffs out a sigh of relief. Yoshida begins to feel greedy again as he watches Denjis eyes flutter shut again and his mouth fall open, hung around his silent gasping. “Maybe you should start thinking of me” he hums next to Denji’s ear.

“Huh?” The confusion that laces itself onto Denji’s pleasured face makes Yoshida want to draw his own name out of the blond boys mouth enough times until he’s the only thing Denji can think about. Yoshida shifts himself backwards, giving himself enough room to lean over Denji, and then finally places his lips around Denji’s leaking cock. With one hand wrapped around the base and the other gripping his thigh, keeping his legs spread, Yoshida begins sucking harshly at the head. Denji sees stars, panting, and shaking and muttering. 

“Hiro, ahh, god- hiro”

Hearing the nickname spurs Yoshida on even more as he takes more of Denji in, picking up the pace, making sloppy sounds. When he feels his throat can’t take anymore he pulls off to lap at the underside before diving back in. He can feel Denji begin smacking him on the head.

“Hiro stop I’m- im gonna” He doesn’t stop. He just sucks harder, swirling his tongue and savouring the taste of every vein until Denji is convulsing and spilling down his throat. He cums with a hand over his mouth to muffle the scream fighting its way out. Yoshida pulls off and licks his lips, staring at Denji with a ravenous look in his eyes as the sound of both of their panting fills the air

“You-“ Denji is cut off with a swift press of lips to his own before Yoshida can even think about what he’s doing. When his brain catches up, Yoshida pulls his lips away to rest their foreheads together, slightly damp from their activities .

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself” Yoshida excuses, slightly embarrassed for pushing his luck to think a kiss was something that Denji would want too. While the two catch each other's breaths for a minute, Denji thinks about the brief taste of himself on Yoshida’s tongue and shivers.

“You didn’t get off” Denji grumbles with sad eyes. Though Yoshida feels he should attribute that to the hormone rush one would normally get after ejaculating, and not to the possibility of Denji actually caring whether they came together or not.

“Next time” Yoshida once again prays to any and every god that he will indeed be afforded a next time.

“What makes you so confident there’s gonna be a next time dickhead?” Denji huffs out, like he didn’t just have the best orgasm of his life. If Yoshida plays his cards right, they will get many next times.

“Cause that’s what boyfriends do” Yoshida admits he is probably being a little optimistic over the extent of this relationship that Denji is willing to accept. But maybe if he keeps doing this for him, he could have some hope.

“Buh- boyfriends????” He was right. Denji is not over the moon at the prospect, and seems to be simply bewildered by Yoshida’s audacity. Wide eyes dart across his face but he presses on.

“Of course, and we can keep doing what boyfriends do together if you want to.” The promise of more sets Denji on edge. Yoshida can tell from the hitch in his breath that he does want to. How could a simple creature like Denji say no to the pleasure he was willing to provide. It was time for the apex of his master plan, Yoshida wonders why he didn’t just try this tactic in the first place.

“Provided you don’t turn into Chainsaw Man of course” his tone was lighthearted but The look in yoshidas eyes was deadly serious and froze Denji in place. For this plan to work, Yoshida knew he had to escape before Denji could argue with him on it.

“See you tomorrow Denji” standing up with the obvious tent in his own pants yoshida collects himself and makes for the door

“Wait but you-!!” 

“Shh-“ Yoshida presses his finger to his lips and nods in the direction of the one bedroom where nayuta and most of the dogs are still sleeping, silencing Denji before he slips on his shoes and is out the door. 

He did it again 

Denji huffs and falls back onto the couch with an arm slung over his face. The gears in his cluttered brain clunk and turn as he shifts and lays on that couch for a long while, staring at his ceiling, before finally curling up and closing his eyes for the night.

Chapter Text

In the morning, Denji ambles through the school hallways to his first-period class. He feels wrung out after a weekend like that. Getting swallowed by a devil, somehow surviving, and then getting kind of kidnapped by your best kind of friend and then having two of your first sexual experiences ( with him ), really took a lot out of a person. Then Monday comes, and he’s just supposed to go back to doing what he always does again, getting both Nayuta and himself ready for school and riding the train to bring both her and himself to their respective destinations. Now here he is again, shuffling past his classmates and attending his classes, along with the same guy who turned his weekend into a full shit show.

Currently, Denji’s brain is full of far too many thoughts than what he was normally comfortable with. And all of them were, for some reason, Yoshida-related. What Yoshida said, what he did, the way he looked when he said and did all those things… no matter how much he thought, though, his brain would always come back to the way Yoshida had looked when he left Denji hanging, twice . He looked the way he always had, of course, aloof and unphased. But, after everything they had done, after Yoshida flat out admitted that he liked Denji, shouldn’t something have changed? shouldn’t Yoshida maybe want to stay with him a little bit longer? Kissed him a little bit more? Hell, after sharing their very first kiss last night, Denji’s brain felt permanently altered. He’d never felt the way he did in that moment before and had no idea what to even call it. The mind-numbing pleasure Yoshida gave him on that couch was one thing, but the passionately warm and fuzzy feeling he gave him with the simple press of lips against his own, was a whole other thing entirely. And he didn’t taste like puke.

Denji might’ve sat there a little too long with his mouth slack from the shock. But as soon as he was ready to return the kiss, Yoshida had pulled away, entirely too fast, giving him that wide-eyed stare like he had just made some kind of mistake. Denji wonders if Yoshida really felt that way about the kiss, or about everything. If it was everything, he wouldn’t have done it twice, right? Then what did he regret? What did that boy really want from Denji besides, just being Denji (and not Chainsaw Man). That probably wasn’t something Denji could give him anyway.

While Denji sat on that couch, feeling edged and returning that dumb stare, trying his best to decipher what that look really meant, He could barely process what Yoshida was even saying. Something about being boyfriends. All Denji knew about relationships was about one boyfriend and one girlfriend. That in itself already posed a big problem. Who was supposed to be the girlfriend? No way in hell was Denji gonna be a girl for him. And Yoshida, as pretty as he is, would probably look ugly in a skirt. Not that Denji thought he was that pretty or had ever imagined him in a skirt before, but…. all the girls in his class had to be swooning over him for some reason, right? Whatever. None of it mattered. Right after dropping this bomb on him, Yoshida had practically run out the door, leaving Denji all high and dry and all by himself again, something he hated being now.

Besides, relationships were supposed to be even, right? Give and take? And yet both times Yoshida strung Denji along like that, doing a whole lotta giving and no taking. Completely unlike any boyfriend Denji had ever known before. If he were a girl, Denji would know exactly what to do. He would bring Yoshida flowers and take him to the movies. If Yoshida were a girl, Denji would give him anything he wanted if it would make him happy. But he’s not. So Denji doesn’t know what to do. Denji at first thought he could try doing things that he himself would like. Like holding him and trying to make him feel good. But Yoshida didn’t even seem to want that either. So Denji was stuck. How were they supposed to be boyfriends? And do things that boyfriends do? Denji feels inadequate and thinks he might be a terrible boyfriend.

Especially If Yoshida hadn’t come once during their time together, How was Denji supposed to know if he even enjoyed it at all or not? Or if he even really liked Denji in the first place. Maybe he was just saying that for whatever weird fucked up scheme he had planned. Well, Denji sure enjoyed this scheme so far anyway. He enjoyed it a lot and couldn’t stop replaying in his mind just how good Yoshida had made him feel. Denji knew he should have returned the favour somehow. If he had asked, Denji would’ve absolutely let Yoshida stay the night. Even if he might’ve been hesitant to let that creep sleep in the same house as Nayuta and himself, it was late, and his couch was pretty comfy. With enough pressing and pleading from the mouth that had kissed him, he surely would’ve let it happen. Because that’s what boyfriends do, right? They let their girlfriends sleep over whenever it was late at night and whenever they simply wanted to. 

But Yoshida hadn’t wanted to. After playing with Denji again just the way he had previously, He didn’t want to stay with him any longer, and he didn’t want to kiss him any more. Whatever, Denji didn’t want to kiss him any more either. Not with the mouth that he used to give Denji those creepy smiles and playful smirks and incredible earth-shattering blowjobs… he wonders if he would ever get to experience another one from the sick game Yoshida was playing with him. Feeling those lips wrapped tightly around his cock again would feel so good. Maybe next time, Denji could somehow convince Yoshida to try other things with him. Then, he could see what else that boy was miraculously experienced in doing with that mouth... Denji is suddenly shocked out of his train of thought by a voice greeting him from across the hallway.

“Hey, Denji!” The very object of his daydreaming waves at him from just a few paces in front of him and croons his name with that very same mouth. Oh fuck. Denji had gotten used to seeing Yoshida appear around seemingly every corner Denji turned. But after the thoughts he was just having, it seemed unnatural, almost like the freak was summoned by his own mind somehow. Denji freezes in his tracks. All his disorganized thoughts fly out of his ears until there’s just one remaining. He’s not ready for this. 

So Denji chooses the first tactful thing his feeble mind can think of doing. He turns tail and runs. He begins sprinting in the opposite direction, swerving between other students as fast as his fit legs can carry him. Good thing they’re used to this. Denji doesn’t look back. But he does imagine Yoshida standing dumbly in the hallway in shock, arm still half raised from his stupid little wave. Hah, serves him right. Quickly remembering his destination, Denji reroutes his course and doesn’t stop running. He would rather die than let Yoshida catch him somehow right now. Seems he would have to get to class the long way around.

.

Scheduling a math class for first period had to be some kind of crime. After last night's activities, Denji hadn’t gotten as much sleep as he’d usually like. Consequently, he now sat slumped over his desk, dreaming about pale hands and soft raven hair. his desk was coventiently placed in the very back right behind one of his tallest classmates, which was usually something he would complain about but not today. In his dreams Denji is not in a math class but at home, in his own futon, which is already so much better than a math class. But the second person occupying his imaginary futon and lying underneath him, makes it infinitely more enjoyable. Denji’s dream is going great until a big hand smacks him on the head, jolting him awake from his fantasy. 

“Hey, what’s the big idea,” Blinking his eyes, Denji mumbles in complaint, before wiping a trail of drool away from his mouth. The big guy in front of him is slightly turned around to whisper angrily at Denji as the teacher is talking. “You’re making weird sounds, quit it”. Denji doesn’t respond, stunned by this development. Shit. Was he? Denji shoves his face back into his arms folded over his desk to hide his own flush of embarrassment. Fucking creep is even haunting him now, Denji can’t even get away from him in his sleep. Speaking of the creep, Denji sneaks a glance to the door of his classroom. By this time, so close to the end of class, Denji would often spot the weirdo smiling or waving at him through the door’s wide window, sometimes both. Just about every day actually, Yoshida would be waiting outside Denji’s class, just to chat and ask about his studies or what he wanted to eat for lunch while they walked to their next classes. How Yoshida was able to leave his class early pretty much every day, Denji had no idea. Having all the teachers wrapped around your finger must’ve been nice for Yoshida. 

However, today there seemed to be a lack of one ghastly tall freak. That's weird. He should be there. Now with his apparent absence, Denji is surprised at just how used to him he had gotten for a lack of Yoshida to seem weird to Denji. Whatever, not like Denji was disappointed or anything. His teacher probably found out how insane Yoshida was and stopped letting him do whatever he wanted the way they all normally did. He would surely be waiting for Denji at lunch time. Denji would walk to his next class and actually pay attention this time, taking notes about which topics he would have to ask Yoshida for some extra help with a little later. 

.

When his second class of the day is just about over, Denji once again expectantly glances to his classroom doors window to find absolutely nobody smiling their wide, creepy little smile back at him. What the hell. Did he die? The only time Denji had gotten to enjoy a peaceful day without one Hirofumi Yoshida all up in his business was the day after he had gotten badly injured from fighting a devil on one of his missions. Apparently, the idiot had almost lost an arm from what Kishibe told him after he asked. Even so, Yoshida still showed up the very next day covered in the bandages hidden under his clothes and the smell of blood. That was the first day Denji didn’t yell at him to go away when he once again appeared outside his classroom the way he always did. Instead, Denji had simply asked Yoshida what he wanted to eat during lunch for a change. Of course he didn’t pay for it the way Yoshida always did but the walking wallet of a boy told him the thought was nice.

If he could show up right after that then what the hell wasn’t he showing up for today? In the few minutes left before the lunch time bell rings, an emotion that definitely isn't worry etches itself onto Denji’s face. He even peers out the window next to his seat just to double check Yoshida isn’t playing a prank on him, before remembering his class is on the second floor. What the hell was he thinking?

If he’s gotten himself messed up again somehow well- he better not have.

Denji saw him just this morning. Nothing too dangerous could’ve happened between the two periods he saw him last right? He had to be somewhere in the school. Denji would just have to go find him himself to make sure then. Who else would buy Denji his lunch or pay attention to him if something did happen. By the time the teacher is halfway through dismissing them, Denji is already out the door. 

.

Just as he thought. Yoshida was nowhere to be seen in the hallway. Not waiting patiently to greet Denji like he should’ve been. Not that Denji wanted him to be. That’s just what always happened. And when it didn’t happen, something just felt wrong. That’s all it was. Stomping down the hallway, Denji begins the hunt, starting with Yoshida’s second period classroom, though he likely would’ve already left, it was the most sensible place to start. 

After getting kicked out by Yoshida’s completely unhelpful teacher he moves on to his next stop. Student council room maybe? No dice. Boys bathrooms? Nu-uh. Next he tried the soccer field, then the gym room, and then the next room, and the next one, having no luck at all. Not a single spot of impossibly inky black hair until Denji is finished combing the entire school 40 minutes later. Now Denji’s stomach is grumbling and he’s kicking himself for getting too used to Yoshida and never packing himself a lunch. After finally giving up on his search he fists his hands in his pockets to fish out whatever spare change he might have and drags himself to the school shop to go buy whatever he has enough for. Go figure the bell would ring as soon as he’s finished forking over his measly sum. Just great, he wasted his entire lunch period on that loser.

Sipping on his carton of milk and heading back to his classes after the first bell, Denji treks his way to his third period class of the day. This was the second time that Yoshida had made him play this messed up game of hide and seek with someone he cared about.

Wait. Hold on. No, not someone he cared about, just someone. 

Screw that guy. If the fucker is intentionally hiding from Denji he might just turn into Chainsaw Man in front of everyone to get his revenge and saw that shithead in half. Then everyone would know Denji’s true identity, and with the school's resident heartthrob out of the way, all the girls would finally be all over him. This plan was perfect. 

Or, maybe not. Just about every girl who knew he was chainsaw man so far has either tried to kill him or gotten killed, sometimes both. For a moment, Denji can’t help but think about all the girls Chainsaw Man had brought into his life, and then promptly taken out of it. The sudden anguish makes him pause in his stride momentarily, eyes unfocused and wandering. He barely even registers the student from behind bumping into his back before cursing at him. The devil in place of his heart tightens and threatens to fall out of his chest before Denji is kicking himself, beating down his sorrow with a stick. Self pity never did anything for him, despite the endless amount of reasons he had for indulging in it.

His stupor is cut short when Denji thinks he spots a particularly tall head of inky black hair above everyone else at the end of the hallway. He Pushes through the throng of other students scrambling through their few remaining minutes to get to class, to get to the other side of the hallway. When Denji reaches the end he discovers his wandering and unfocused eyes are clearly not to be trusted. He’s disappointed to find no tall loser adorned with a cute beauty mark, or a set of cool piercings unique to his specific loser. 

Hold up. Cute? Cool? What was he even thinking?

The bell rings and a teacher sternly tells him to get a move on before Denji skulks back in the direction he came and shuffles back to his own third period classroom. Once again his mind is wandering, jumping and landing on anything that doesn’t have to do with the lesson. Mostly on things that had to do with Yoshida again. God he can’t wait til this class is over. Sitting here and letting that gay loser run through his mind for an hour is hell. He hates it. He tries thinking about anyone else, he really does. But he can’t help it. Nobody else here would pay attention to Denji or give a single shit about him the way Yoshida does. The worst thing about it is that Denji can’t even find it in him to be bothered all that much by it. It was very simple, why did he need to care about anyone else who didn’t care for him. The flip side to that is that it leaves a lot of room in his devil heart for anyone who actually did pay any attention to him at all. Even if the way they did it was a little off sometimes.

Staring out his class window he hatches a plan. If Yoshida was still inside the school and somehow avoiding him, Denji would find out. If this third period class ends with yet another disappearing act from Yoshida, Denji will have to beat him at his own game. He’ll simply pull a Yoshida, but better. For the rest of class Denji can hardly pay attention while he fantasizes about the gruesome revenge he’ll enact if Yoshida does turn out to be avoiding him. The things he could do to that boy were endless. Denji didn’t appreciate being ditched. But he still had to make sure that’s what was happening here, and not the other possibility. That something has happened to Yoshida.

When eventually this class ends, the pattern repeats itself and Yoshida is nowhere to be found. Of course. Denji makes up his mind and makes his way to his last class of the day, fully planning to ditch the hell out of it as soon as attendance is marked.

And he does just that. Thirty seconds after his teacher has put away his attendance sheet, Denji raises his hand to go to the bathroom, “Sensei I’ve gotta go,” he says while making a show of doing a little pee pee dance.

The instructor rolls his eyes at the disruption. “Sit down Denji, class just started.” However, Denji is already gone before Mr. Tanaka can finish his sentence.

.

Denji stands, leaning on the wall next to Yoshida’s fourth period classroom. His arms are crossed and his temper is high. Denji had already tried peeking in through the window but could only see the front half of the class before almost getting spotted by Yoshidas math teacher. No fair he got to have his math class after lunch when your brain is supposed to work better. He had stood outside this classroom door for thirty minutes now. As the bell is about to ring, Denji hopes that Yoshida will come waltzing out of the classroom with a big wide smile on his face so that Denji can stop agonizing over this. Over him. His entire day was ruined just by one guy not showing up to ruin it for him. How the hell did he do that? It was infuriating. For all of his revenge daydreaming, Denji hadn't actually come up with a solid game plan yet for when Yoshida walked out that door. Like most other things, Denji would probably come up with it when he gets there. 

Denji stares daggers at each student as they all slowly exit through the classroom door next to him. Not Yoshida. Not Yoshida. Cute girl but not Yoshida. As the stream of students slowly trickles away Denji begins to lose hope and slump in defeat. 

Yoshida has bested him yet again. His plan to beat Yoshida at his own game ends in failure and Denji’s face paints itself with worry. Maybe something really did happen to him. Denji’s head starts swimming with possibilities, all of them bad. He turns to head home, following the rest of the retreating students. Denji’s steps are heavy and his hands are shoved deep into his pockets.  

He’s wondering what kinda devil might’ve gotten the best of Yoshida this time, until he spots a shine of ear jewelry disappearing around the corner. Denji doesn’t think twice before rushing after it. Denji sadly meets an empty hallway. Were his eyes playing tricks on him again? No, Denji definitely saw it. Denji double-checks all the classrooms by peeking through the doors, convinced that Yoshida is hiding from him. After finding nothing of interest in any of the three classrooms, Denji heaves a sigh and gives up. 

Maybe this was driving him crazy somehow. Though Denji wasn't sure why. Not like he cared what happened to that guy. Denji doesn’t care about him and definitely doesn’t even like Yoshida at all. Denji only likes people who like him, and at this point, he doesn’t really know how Yoshida truly feels about him. Yoshida basically confessed to him and then proceeded to do all the things that someone who liked Denji shouldn’t be doing. Like kidnapping him and his little sister, then ditching him on a cold concrete floor, telling him not to be Chainsaw Man anymore, ditching him again (at least at home that time), and then once again ditching him at school all day. Yoshida had made him feel amazing, almost made him believe that he could be liked and cared for. And then, the second Denji is ready to return that care and affection, Yoshida flips and makes Denji feel like he’s worth less than garbage to be discarded and thrown away whenever Yoshida’s done with him. That couldn’t be what boyfriends were like right? If so, then Yoshida is a terrible boyfriend, and Denji knows he could be a better one. God, he needs some water.

Denji swerves into the first door on the left of the hallway, the second-floor men's bathroom, and balks. Once again, like the boy was simply summoned from Denji’s thoughts, there stands Yoshida, washing his hands at the second to last sink. “You! I finally got you!” Denji shouts, echoing off the tiled walls. 

“Oh hey Denji,” Yoshida says plainly, staring back at the boy who’s wide-eyed and pointing an accusatory finger at him. 

“Don’t hey Denji me, you’ve been running from me all day like a dickhead,” Denji’s syllables are each enunciated with a heavy stomp towards the tall boy’s direction.

“... was I?” Yoshida dodges the blame being hurled at him with masterfully crafted faux innocence, making Denji’s blood boil.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know you were. I pulled a Yoshida,” If the finger that’s driving Its way into Yoshida’s chest right now is painful at all, his pleased face isn’t giving away any sign of it. 

“Oh, did you now, Denj?” he says, sporting an amused and annoying grin. His teasing tone is devoid of any real surprise at the confession.

“Shush,” Denji can barely take any of this boy’s nonchalant attitude anymore. He brings the finger at his chest, up to press against the boy’s lips, effectively shushing Yoshida himself in case he didn’t listen to Denji’s word for what it was, a very real command. The pressure against Yoshida’s mouth drives him backwards a little, until his back is pressed against the off-white ceramic of the bathroom wall. The strength of a devil hybrid really isn’t one to be underestimated. While Denji stares daggers at him, Yoshida wonders if he made a mistake. 

“I pulled a Yoshida and you weren’t in any of your classes, what gives,” Denji demands while petulantly placing his hands on his hips. Despite the upper hand he has, Yoshida feels the need to bring both of his own hands up to his face in mock surrender.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about Denji. I was there for each one,” Yoshida’s lucky that Denji doesn’t know what gaslighting is or that it’s exactly what’s happening right now. Instead of calling him out on it, Denji stares dumbfoundedly at Yoshida’s placating smile, huffing and crossing his arms. The octopus boy's own arms fall to his sides, having successfully pacified the devil hybrid somehow. What Denji wouldn’t ever say is that his answer simply succeeded in dismissing Denji’s worries of some tragedy befalling Yoshida during his sudden absence. Nonetheless, Denji’s uncharacteristic anger towards Yoshida has mildly subsided and all that is left remaining is his very characteristic confusion.

“And at lunch?” Denji raises a furrowed brow to continue his interrogation, pressing Yoshida to give him the second worst possible explanation for his disappearance.

That Yoshida really was just ignoring him. 

“I got detention, '' Yoshida whines, imitating a sad expression. Denji barks out a harsh laugh seeing that look on Yoshida’s face.

“No fucking way you got detention, all the teachers are in love with you,” the tense atmosphere trickles away as Denji continues laughing right in Yoshida's face, before wiping away a stray tear from his right eye. The ridicule in Denji’s voice doesn’t even process in Yoshida’s brain as he realizes he’s been missing that laugh recently. 

“Haha you’re right, you got me Denji,” his voice softens in a more authentic surrender this time as Yoshida decides to give it all up. “I was evading you. After watching you run away from me this morning I was just going to give you a little bit of space at first. I thought maybe everything recently might’ve been too much for you.” The confession of worry brings a second dumbfounded look on Denji’s face. Yoshida seemed to do that a lot to him. Denji has nothing to say to the level of concern that was so uncharacteristic for Yoshida. 

“But then, after watching you search so eagerly for me at lunch, I wanted to lay back and see how hard you’d try to find me, you were acting like the perfect worried boyfriend Denji,” Yoshida compliments Denji in a way that doesn’t make him feel proud at all. There’s the usual Yoshida, finally showing off the devious nature that was very characteristic of him.

“I wasn’t eager, and we’re not boyfriends,” is all Denji can say to deny him and to try to fight the embarrassed flush threatening to stain his face. So Yoshida somehow watched him go crazy all over the school? What a dickhead, and what a terrible boyfriend. Denji’s growing irritation with the boy in front of him made it easy to ignore the disappointed look on that boy’s face. If Denji didn’t let him have it right now his head might explode.

“I mean, what kinda boyfriend ignores his… other boyfriend all day? You’re a shitty boyfriend if you think I’d be happy with you ditching me over and over before I even get the chance to kiss you back,” now it's Yoshida’s turn to look dumbfounded. Surprisingly, he can't come up with anything to say to that. He just stands there, searching Denji’s eyes for some kind of explanation. As if there were any to give, that’s exactly what Yoshida did. Why would Denji be happy about that? 

“If you were a good boyfriend you’d quit running away from me every second you get bored of me. And if you were a really good boyfriend you’d kiss me like you meant it, not like you were scared of me infecting you with my devil disease or something” Regret dawns on Yoshida’s face as he realizes that he hasn’t been quite as good at seducing Denji as he thought he was. To this, Yoshida only has one response to give. The two arms at his side come forward to desperately wrap around Denji’s waist, pulling him in close to Yoshida’s chest. A pair of lips meet Denji’s, and this time it's a proper kiss. His hands are momentarily frozen in surprise before they find themselves at Yoshida’s wide shoulders, gripping them as if he were trying to keep him in place, whether consciously or not. If Yoshida were to run away this time it would really be over. And Denji, for some reason, doesn't want that.

Yoshida’s eyes are closed, and when Denji realizes that he’s not pulling away any time soon, Denji’s wide eyes soon fall shut too. All his anxiety and irritability soon slowly slip away, making room for something Denji is a little more used to, something that feels like his base instinct at this point, want . The fact that it was being directed at Yoshida of all people, another boy , starts to freak him out less and less as he begins returning the affection, moving his lips along with the handsome boy latching onto him. It just felt so good, and nothing came more naturally to him than chasing whatever made him feel good.

The feeling borders on need soon enough as Denji feels a warm tongue brushing against his lip, begging to deepen their kiss. Denji opens his mouth with a low whine, more than happy to let him in. He almost surprises himself with his own eagerness and Denji doesn’t know when he’s supposed to catch his breath. When he can't take it anymore, Denji pulls away with a gasp.

“yeah… like that I guess.” Denji wheezes out, panting and desperate for air. Both of their arms hesitantly fall back to their sides to help regain whatever composure they might’ve had before. Yoshida, in contrast to Denji, seems completely unfazed, only smiling his weird little Cheshire Cat grin from ear to ear. 

“Am I a good boyfriend now?” Denji can't tell whether that’s a genuine question or not. If it is then Yoshida just might be stupid.

“No, you’re still a shitty one” Denji lies, like that kiss didn’t just change everything for him.

“Oh, but you’re agreeing that we are officially boyfriends now?” Yoshida's pure talent for completely ignoring Denji’s words. And putting new ones in his mouth was unparalleled. The pure glee on the guy's face is genuine though. That’s kind of sweet. Denji’s nose scrunches up like he’s caught a whiff of something sour as he’s reminded of something.

“Unless I wanna turn into Chainsaw Man though, right?” Denji parrots Yoshida’s previous request back to him, petulant in a way that has Yoshida wondering whether he’s willing to accept it or not. Yoshida’s willing to bet that if he puts everything on the line, Denji just might really agree to it.

“But you won’t though, right Denji?” Yoshida’s pleading voice is saccharine sweet, and dripping with honey before he grabs Denji by the shoulders and flips them around. Yoshida presses Denji into the wall he just had his back to and crowds himself into the blond boy’s space, nearly whispering in his ear. “You won’t because you like me too much,” he seemed to be teasing but a tone like that usually came with the threat of something dangerous if certain demands weren’t met. However, in Denji’s eyes, complying with Yoshida’s plea might just be the more dangerous option for him. The octopus boy’s stance was made very clear though, and losing him at this point didn’t seem to appeal very much to Denji either. Ugh, why did he have to pick?

Staring at the beauty mark he almost thought of as cute earlier, Denji caves. It really is cute. He pauses for a moment to figure out how to phrase the question he’s been needing to ask all day. However now, looking into those dark obsidian eyes, he feels like he already knows the answer.

“You like me too, right? like, for real?” The vulnerability in Denji’s voice almost has Yoshida buckling at the knees, but he masterfully hides it with a quiet chuckle. 

“More than you know Denji” Yoshida’s confession has Denji drawing in a deep breath. So it was true. Yoshida really does like him. And Denji likes people who like him. Even people as fucked up and weird as Yoshida is. Feeling emboldened, Denji drops his voice and stands on his tiptoes to whisper right into the taller boy's ear.

“And you wanna fuck me too right?” Denji pulls back to slowly examine Yoshida's face, watching it shift from subtle shock to unbridled salacity. It turns a shade darker, as Denji watches his breathing pick up slightly. Yoshida slowly parts his lips to answer.

“I think about it every second of every day.” Yoshida doesn’t tear his eyes away from Denji’s for a second, and Denji can't find a single trace of deceit in them. Though how was he to know if there really was? Maybe Denji wasn’t as delusional as he thought he might be. Despite not being in a bedroom, Denji returns the shameless bedroom eyes that Yoshida is currently giving him and slowly wraps his fingers around the boy’s left wrist.

“Good, then you should really learn how to take the things you want, Hiro. Like this.”

Denji yanks him into the closest neighbouring stall with him. Quickly closing the toilet lid and pushing Yoshida to sit on it. He then locks the stall door behind him (even though they’re the only two people here) and drops to his knees.

.

Watching all of this knocks the breath out of the tall boy, scrambling for words that aren’t usually this hard to find while Denji is fiddling with his zipper. That overwhelming eagerness of his stunned Yoshida too at times.

“Haah~…did I not leave you satisfied enough yesterday?” Yoshida managed to choke out between the litany of oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god running through his lust-addled brain. Denji had wrestled his half-hard cock out of his pants before he even finished his sentence, stroking it to full hardness. Yoshida couldn’t look away from Denji’s determined eyes, staring up at him through half-lidded lashes.

“Not if you weren’t satisfied too” God, Denji is going to drive him crazy. Is this because he didn’t see Yoshida get off yesterday? Yoshida thinks back and realizes that his departure had been a little swift. The truth however was, that the embarrassment of possibly busting his load, untouched, at just the sight of Denji unravelling from his own mouth couldn’t drive Yoshida out of that apartment fast enough. Yoshida made it 3 blocks away from his apartment before images of Denji with his pink face, shorts pulled to his knees and stomach dribbled in his own fluids sent Yoshida swerving into a nearby alley just to take care of his own problem. It may have been the most embarrassing experience of his life, but at least the boy he had the fattest crush on wasn’t there to witness it.

“Denji… I-“ The feeling of Denji’s lips wrapping around him cuts him off. Being enveloped in that wet heat draws out a shaky gasp from Yoshida. It was obvious Denji was trying to copy his own technique, though much sloppier with it. 

Drool pooled along Denji’s lips and made them shine like candied apples, Yoshida wanted to bite into them. Carding his fingers through Denji’s soft hair, it takes everything in him not to grip onto those strands and send his cock barreling through to the back of Denji’s throat. Denji is working so hard to please him and that makes the heat in his gut coil so much tighter than it ever has before, almost torturously so. Weakly shoving at the shoulders of the boy kneeling in front of him, Yoshida is nearly close to begging.

“Wait… Denji hold on I’m-“ The sound of the bathroom door opening stops both of them in their tracks. Multiple pairs of footsteps can be heard shuffling into the currently occupied washroom. Fuck.

“Sheesh coach is gonna eat us alive if we’re not back soon” Great, it's a group of them.

“Relax Haruhi, we’re just doing drills today. Coach doesn’t really need us,” and he was so close to climax too.

“Hopefully, the rookies will keep the coach distracted enough for a while, giving you guys enough time to marvel at the awesome super rare Chainsaw Man collectable cards I scored today!!” Yoshida inwardly groans as he listens to one of the boys unzip their bag and shuffle around for something, presumably the cards.

“Oh wait, I wanna see what kind I got from my blind box! Tamaki take yours out too lemme see!” More shuffling and unzipping noises can be heard. 

Looking down, Yoshida notices Denji’s wide eyes, darting around the stall, clearly panicking. Yoshida might’ve panicked too if he gave a single shit about anyone at this school other than Denji.

Locking eyes with him, Yoshida feels his dick twitch while those lips are still wrapped around him. A mischievous look dawns on his darkened face, corners of his mouth quirking, as he runs his fingers through Denji’s hair again, caressing until they find themselves at the back of his head. Those hands then slowly begin pushing down, hard , impaling Denji’s throat further down on his cock. Denji’s amateurness shows when he can’t help the gagging noise that escapes his lips as he shifts to better balance his weight. 

A beat of silence falls upon their bathroom guests.

“Uh, guys?” More silence.

“I think we should go” Yoshida imagines how visible their position must be from under the stall as the crowds’ hurried footsteps shuffle to the exit of their shared space. He can’t help letting out a soft giggle. Neither of them dare to move until the sound of the door slamming shut echoes through the bathroom. 

Denji yanks himself out of the firm grip erratically, gasping for air. Yoshida stares at the way he huffs through those shiny, pink, and abused lips. 

“That was mortifying you dickhead” The tent in Denji’s pants is telling Yoshida otherwise.

“It’s okay Denji they’ll never know it was us” he reasons. Though a small part of Yoshida kind of hopes everyone does discover them somehow. Having the renowned Chainsaw Man on his knees in front of you is great for the ego.

“Dude, what if someone finds out!” Denji is bordering on hysterical but his concerns go ignored as Yoshida still can’t look away from his fixation on Denji’s mouth. Any other complaints that come out of that mouth fall on deaf ears.

“Get up” Yoshida says in his entranced state, not really asking.

“Fuck you I’ll get up when I want” Denji spits. He’s only halfway to his feet before 

Yoshida is hoisting him the rest of the way by his arms and shoving him against the stall door. Yoshida can't take it anymore. Denji doesn’t have time for any more complaints before Yoshida is eagerly claiming those shiny lips with his own. When Denji feels the desperate boy begin shoving his tongue down the back of his throat, his eyes unintentionally roll into the back of his head. Yoshida pushes his knee between Denji’s legs to feel how hard he is and is pleased to find him just as hard as Yoshida’s own dick is right now. Denji ruts against his leg for a moment, moaning out his new boyfriend's name. “Hiro-“

There’s that nickname again. Its driving Yoshida crazy.

“Hands on the wall” he demands and then proceeds to start manhandling Denji before he can even comply. Not like he easily would have anyway. 

“Hey, watch the merchandise!” Denji grumbles. He is completely ignored when Yoshida positions him to be bent over the toilet, hands bracing himself on the wall for support. Cold hands come from behind him and explore under his shirt, making Denji shiver. but the warmth on his neck from Yoshidas hot breath makes up for it.

Denji swats his hands away as they try unbuttoning his shirt, taking too long. Yoshida had two of them open before Denji pushes back against him, rubbing his ass along Yoshidas exposed length, covered in spit and already dripping for him.

“Just hurry up and fuck me stalker boy” Denji huffs out. Yoshida feels as if he might pass out if he doesn’t do just that. His hands are already on Denji’s pants, nearly ripping open the zipper and yanking them, along with his underwear, down to his thighs.

.

Denji lets out a shaky breath at the thought of being so exposed to this boy again, and in a place so public. With Yoshida’s chest pressed so close to his back, Denji can already feel the hard, leaking cock pressing against him. It both terrifies and excites him in equally overwhelming ways. This is pretty much what he’s always wanted right? Does he really care that it's not happening with a girl like he always thought?

The sound of ripping plastic tears Denji away from his thoughts and makes him peek over his shoulder to witness Yoshida clumsily covering himself with a condom. Of course he would be the type to keep the emergency one in his wallet. Good thing, because if Yoshida didn’t then Denji probably would have forgotten to offer his own. They might’ve had to raw dog it for their first time… Actually.

“Take it off… if you’re clean” Denji whispers, Yoshida’s head shoots up to give him a questioning look, making sure he heard him right. Denji continues to hopefully reassure him, “It’s my first time so I definitely am.”

“Mine too” Yoshida squeaks out, staring at Denji with those wide dark eyes like the admission was pulled out of him unwillingly. Yeah of course the fucking weirdo stalker guy would also be a virgin. But he was also handsome, and cute, and wanted Denji bad , which in turn made Denji want him even more for some reason.

“C’mon Hiro… I wanna feel you” Denji persuades him with a slight wiggle of his ass. Yoshida probably didn’t even need it, Denji doubts the boy is even capable of saying no to him right now. Yoshida proves him right as he does as he’s told, ripping the condom off and indiscriminately tossing it in some direction on the floor.  

“Sorry I’m not as prepared this time Denji” Yoshida meekly mumbles out before spitting onto his own fingers, fingers that are soon shoving themselves inside of Denji so quickly his arms feel weak and his hands give way to his elbows against the wall. Yoshidas pace is relentless. Each deliberate press of his prostate makes him shiver as he gets bullied open for something bigger.

“You’re loosening up so nicely for me Denji” Yoshidas breath is hot and heavy in his ear before his fingers are pulled out, leaving Denji feeling empty.

“I’m going in now” is the only warning Denji gets before he can feel it lining up with his entrance. Denji holds his breath. And for a moment the hard press of those long fingers gripping on to either side of his hips is all he can focus on to avoid getting lost in anticipation. Those fingers are nearly bruising as he slowly pushes himself inside, pausing when he bottoms out to catch his breath. It’s much harder for Denji though, who feels like the breath just got knocked out of him completely. He barely has any time to adjust before Yoshida starts moving, sliding out slowly before harshly pounding back into him. 

“Fuck, Denji… you feel so good” the timbre of his shaky voice sends shivers up Denji’s spine

“Aah… ha-Hiro” is the best he can manage between his own sharp gasps and guttural moans. Hearing the nickname again clearly sets something off in Yoshida. It was so easy to tell by the way his pace quickens into more desperate, erratic thrusts and the panting in Denji’s ear gets hotter and heavier. He feels a sense of satisfaction at being able to do that to Yoshida with something so small.

Denji’s own breathing isn’t doing any better ether though. Each thrust punches out sounds he can barely register as his own, each gasp getting needier and higher pitched by the second. Denji is bordering on whimpering now.

At some point Denji’s eyes roll into the back of his head again and his tongue is dangerously close to falling out of his mouth. All he can manage to focus on is trying his best to keep up with Yoshida's brutal pace, rocking his hips back in time to feel it go as deep as humanly possible. Yoshida helps with that by yanking him back onto his cock to meet each of his heavy, desperate thrusts with guiding hands.

The slap of their skin echoes throughout the bathroom, if anyone else dared to come in now, the two of them would be a lot less discreet.

“Denji I’m so close” Yoshida whispers behind him, so low that Denji can barely hear him over his own whines.

“Let’s finish together… okay?” Yoshida huffs out before reaching a hand around Denji’s waist to find his own dripping erection. Yoshida pulls on it harshly and strokes Denji to match the pace of his own erratic thrusts. Denji feels like his legs might give out on him any second. The constant pounding of his prostate turns the entire lower half of his body to jelly. It’s a miracle he’s still standing. But Denji knew that if he fell, that meant Yoshida would stop. And Denji never wanted any of this to stop. He never wanted to stop feeling wanted, desired, and loved this hard for the rest of his life. The mind numbing pleasure was a nice added bonus to it. 

All of the sensation he was feeling right now strung his body so tightly he felt like he might break if this continued for long enough. Tears gathered around his lashes until he finally felt himself tipping over the edge, shaking and spilling into yoshidas hand with a cry of, “Ngh- Fuck! Hiro!”

Yoshida continues his onslaught for a few more thrusts before finally pulling out and yanking Denji’s shirt up to finish himself off over Denji’s bare ass, pulling his own orgasm from himself with the hand still covered in Denji’s cum. The spent boy teeters forward, barreling into Denji’s back before catching himself with his other hand, on the same wall Denji is currently holding onto for dear life. Their synchronised gasps for air fill the echoing bathroom walls for a few moments before either boy can gather the strength to properly stand upright again.

Yoshida does first, reaching for the conveniently close toilet paper to wipe off Denji’s, and then his own mess. 

“God you drive me crazy, thank god no one else came in or I might not have been able to stop” Yoshida chuckles, tucking himself away. Denji’s complexion suddenly resembles a freshly picked tomato.

“If you didn’t I would have turned into Chainsaw Man right there and killed you” Denji states matter of factly while redoing the zipper and buttons that his partner had undone.

“Ah but you promised not to Denji!” A sudden weight drops itself back onto Denji’s back as Yoshida whines and digs his face into Denji’s neck, almost reminiscent of a child begging their parents not to leave them alone.

“No I didn’t” Denji tries shrugging the taller boy off, unsuccessfully.

“But you still wouldn't though, right? Not after I asked you so nicely" Yoshida's expectant smile was once again reminiscent of a certain cat as he teased.

Taking a minute to think about it, Denji wonders what else Chainsaw Man has left to fight for, only able to come up with one last thing. A pair of arms tighten around Denji’s waist as they wait for his answer. Okay maybe two things.

Turning away from Yoshidas expectant eyes he admits, “Not unless I had to”

Yoshida’s response is almost too fast. “Then I’ll simply ensure you’re never put in a position like that again,” he promises. 

Denji chokes on the sincerity of those words before Yoshida is slowly turning Denji around to face him. He places a kiss on Denji’s lips and it’s more delicate than anything Denji’s ever felt in his life. God, either this boy is driving him insane or he really might be considering giving up being Chainsaw man for him. Maybe both.

Denji slowly brings his hands up to card through that unbelievably smooth dark hair before yanking back on it to look the devil hunter in the eyes.

“Good luck with that, Boyfriend” Denji whispers, and Yoshida takes it for every bit the challenge that it is.