( It's even better like this, feeling Dabi beneath him, around him, even after the fact— he exhales shakily, waiting for the last of their movements to slow to a stop before he allows his body to sink over Dabi's, laying half on top of him. He doesn't care about the mess, about the warmth now pressed sticky between them— or, he rather likes it. He hears those words as he tries to catch his breath, pressing his heavy exhales into Dabi's ear, his neck, as he does.
Did it work? He turns his face slightly, into Dabi a little more, and remembers their joined hands. Slowly, he slips his fingers from the grip and down to his wrist, instead, resting down gently. )
Didn't it?
( He realizes now, as he comes down from this high, that it had been some time since Dabi had coughed up any blood or any flower petals. Esi's lips curve into a small little smile, his fingertip tracing something on Dabi's wrist, idly. It seems like... he might have just gotten away with this little indulgence. )
You haven't coughed lately. ( It's only now that he finally slips out from him, reluctant as it is, and pulls his hand away along with it. He rolls a little more off of him, to his side, but the warmth and his own exhaustion (not to mention this tiny ass bed) keeps him close, his hand moving to rest over Dabi's chest, instead. Honestly, it would have been nice to stay like that for a while— but admitting that to himself, let alone to Dabi, is another story. And he already feels like he's pushing it by not immediately pulling away or distancing himself. )
How do you feel? Need to go a second time? ( It's like, mostly a joke. Half a joke. )
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Did it work? He turns his face slightly, into Dabi a little more, and remembers their joined hands. Slowly, he slips his fingers from the grip and down to his wrist, instead, resting down gently. )
Didn't it?
( He realizes now, as he comes down from this high, that it had been some time since Dabi had coughed up any blood or any flower petals. Esi's lips curve into a small little smile, his fingertip tracing something on Dabi's wrist, idly. It seems like... he might have just gotten away with this little indulgence. )
You haven't coughed lately. ( It's only now that he finally slips out from him, reluctant as it is, and pulls his hand away along with it. He rolls a little more off of him, to his side, but the warmth and his own exhaustion (not to mention this tiny ass bed) keeps him close, his hand moving to rest over Dabi's chest, instead. Honestly, it would have been nice to stay like that for a while— but admitting that to himself, let alone to Dabi, is another story. And he already feels like he's pushing it by not immediately pulling away or distancing himself. )
How do you feel? Need to go a second time? ( It's like, mostly a joke. Half a joke. )