⊹ ˚. 𓂃 HEAVEN MUST SMELL LIKE CHAMOMILE— or whatever that fruit is that you use for shampoo.
tags. (18+), mentions of scars/injuries, alcohol consumption, angst and fluff, (a little bit of) toji slander (but it's because I love him), toji centric, domesticity, established relationship.
His body was more on the floor than on the couch when you found him. His shirt lost somewhere and with his back exposed you could make out a scar or two that you couldn't tell if they were old or new and the weight of his muscles sagged the cushions and crushed them until they practically disappeared.
You identify junk food plastics on the floor as you get closer, the smell of dirt, mud, street food and alcohol is easily discernible in the air.
Although you thought he was sleeping in the absence of attention he gave you when you arrived, as you stand so close to him you see him blink.
"When did you get back?" your voice sounds like that of an angel, your hands so soft contrasting against the roughness of the unkempt beard he has let grow these past few days.
Yet Toji doesn't answer, he can't even look at you. You are so clean and smell so good that he can't help but close his eyes and let the scent of your shampoo and fragrance hit his senses, your whole presence feels like an oasis.
"What happened?" you ask again, brushing aside black locks tangled in his lashes.
"I saw him." Your attention to his hair suddenly stops. "Please don't stop doing that." He speaks again, this time his voice a little huskier.
"Where was he?"
"Gojo." His eyelids finally yield to your caresses, your fingertips feel so good massaging his skull. "They were buying that disgusting cup soup. I hope he's not just feeding that shit to my son."
You snort a giggle as one of your fingers spirals a lock of hair. "What did you do then? Did they see you?"
Toji wraps one of his long arms around your waist and the sudden movement causes you to lose your stability on your heels and in a heartbeat you were on top of him.
"I hid in the bathroom until they left."
You say his name tasting bitterness in your mouth. Looking up into his face, squatting on his hip you realize the weight on your chest.
"It's okay, you don't have to say anything. I know he's fine without me, I don't regret my decision," he says wrinkling his nose, downplaying something that's burning inside him. Doing that thing he always does where he hides his feelings in a bag and throws them into the bottom of an abyss.
It's just like the first time he admitted he liked you and wanted to have an official relationship with you. The expression he had is the same one you have after you've eaten something overdue.
"Tell me about your day." In between long blinks that hide red, puffy eyes, his fingers pamper your thighs.
You resign yourself with a sigh to keep harping on the subject... for now. "Same basic sorcerer bullshit."
"I'm still on the list of bastards they're looking for?"
"Yup." Your thumbs feel just like soft clouds as you cradle his cheeks; he snorts.
"Good luck with that, fuckers."
"I should turn you in, you know?" You cocked your head to the side and your eyebrows rise.
"Really? You'd rather... what, 100,000¥ than this?" He releases one of your thighs to with a subtle motion point his hand up and down himself.
"They're actually offering a lot more than that." You look at him again only to notice how the redness in his eyes is almost imperceptible now that he's smiling. He rubs off on you right away.
"Yeah?"
"Hmm hmm."
"I knew someday this ass would be worth a lot and I'd stop being poor."
You're laughing loudly now. Your body jerks making the couch creak, not that this is the first time it's holding you both in that position but it's for the same reason you fear for it, Toji has said he'll pay for a new one, just like he said he'd change the light outside or fix that leak in the sink.
But you don't insist, it's a promise that always keeps him coming back and that he makes so you don't worry every time he has to go away for a "mission". I can't die yet, I have to go back to change the light bulb.
"I hope you know how annoying you are and that I'm really thinking of turning your ass in."
He grins wide, two deep lines stand out on either side of his mouth. "I bet you couldn't do this with that dirty money you'd make from selling your man."
"My man?!" You chuckle again because it's unusual to hear him talk like that. He must have been drunk, the smell in his mouth when he plants a fleeting kiss on your lips gives it away.
"How much did you drink?"
"Enough."
"Enough to?"
There's exactly two seconds between Toji smiling and then, him wrapping an arm around your body and lifting you both off the poor couch.
"We're going to fall... Toji!" you tap his shoulder.
He takes two steps and staggers, plus he trips over an empty bag which makes him say something only another drunk could decipher.
"Now I've got Doritos on my feet...shit."
Two more steps and from above you have a wide view of everything his walk leaves behind. His gun is at the edge of the couch, a sword under the small table in the center and a trail of junk food leading from the kitchen to the living room and ending with blue cans of beer perfectly arranged in a pyramid he formed on top of a drawing that looks like it was made by a child— there are blue traces of a circle with legs taking the hand of another smaller red circle, the sun which for some reason is blue shines above the piece of sheet of paper.
Miraculously you make it to the bathroom without any accidents. Toji carefully puts you down and shushes you before you even think of yelling at him, his tongue seeks space between your lips to caress yours and the mix of tastes makes you put a hand on his torso and pull away.
"No."
"What."
You grab the mouthwash on top of the sink and press it between his pecs.
"I'm offended but I'll take it."
"Shall I get the tub ready?"
"Shower." You manage to decode as he gargles with the blue liquid.
You check the temperature of the drops with the back of your hand and prepare it just the way Toji likes it. You're the first one in, and you take two steps back to give him the space he needs so he doesn't feel like he's about to have a panic attack: Why does your bathroom have to be so small.
"At least I have a bathroom."
"Touché."
Your answer was too quick and clever and he can't deny it, but Toji knows it's something he'll use later to manipulate you into lending him money for gambling.
He shamelessly stretches an arm above your head to grab your shampoo and smiles victoriously when he hears no complaints from you, you let it go just because you see the state he's in and as much as you enjoy teasing him, you know he's commented to you before how intimate it is for him to have your scent on him all day long.
In the middle of what ends up being a bubble bath (because Toji doesn't control the amount of liquid soap he uses) you help him by scrubbing his back, the sponge works hard to remove blood and mud stains from the days he was away from home and when the water washes away the suds you manage to identify a new scar near his shoulder blades that looks like it was made with a dagger.
His muscles tense under the touch of a curious finger. "Who?"
Toji turns, the stream of water still hitting him squarely in the back of the neck. Gently he grabs both your hands and brings them to his mouth to kiss them. "A guy who's way below ground right now."
The answer brings you no comfort if that's what he was looking for. You drop your forehead to his chest and stay like that for a long moment, the water splashing you both, his ticklish fingers playing with your back, and the smell of your own shampoo that feels so strangely comforting to smell on him.
You're the first one out, and you're forced to share a towel because oh, it's to no one's surprise that his was dirty. Which in your defense, you didn't know he was going to show up today, you had no contact from him in the last two days and knowing the job he has, you found it impertinent to send one text over another so you ended up piling his dirty clothes at the bottom of the basket.
The room is still just as Toji left it. Maybe because you're always organizing, or maybe because he doesn't notice those things too much. There are sky blue candles he thinks are new next to the bed, the closed curtains deny him the sunset, and books on the bed that you quickly pick up to invite him up.
"It smells so good in here," he confesses his thoughts aloud, stealing one of the pillows to lie on.
"New candles." He had guessed as much.
Toji is smiling. His eyes barely noticeable between the dark circles the shower helped expose.
"Chamomile?"
You finish snuggling into his arms before answering. "I have no idea, the name is Rain in the Garden."
"What the..." You both laugh at the same time, you finish arranging your body so that you're in that position he loves to sleep in so much. One of his arms around your waist, tight against his chest, the other across your neck to hold your head and his legs trapped between yours.
"I know."
"How the fuck does a rain in the garden smell like?"
"You're smelling it right now, sir."
He sinks his nose into the crown of your head and inhales without hiding. "It smells so good, I can't lie."
Unsure if he means your hair or the scent of the candle, "That's what I thought." That's all you merely reply.
With hands in a tangle and the tip of his nose still on your head, you feel him relax the muscles around your body. Your thumb carves the back of his hand sweetly and you get a sort of groan from the grumpy man behind you.
"Sure you don't want to talk about it?"
Would it change anything if he told you he regrets to...? He doesn't even want to think about it, much less admit it out loud. Would it make any difference if he spit out the ball that's stuck in his chest? You don't have to carry his weight too, you've got enough on your hands as it is.
Toji blinks several times, his eyes burning as if he has been staring at a fixed point for the last half hour. Then he pulls you closer to his body, sharing more than just the nakedness of his body with you; he squeezes you so close to his chest that you have to moan in discomfort in a moment, followed by a chuckle to reassure him that you're okay.
"We don't have to talk if you don't want to, baby."
Sometimes he wonders if he deserves the amount of affection you show him.
Sometimes he wonders if he is deserving of so much kindness. Even after all he's done, even with all he does.
"I think I just want to sleep now." His voice sounds raspy, and you decide not to insist anymore. You kiss his bruised knuckles and snuggle his arm closer to your chest.
"I know how hard it is for you to sleep if we're not in this position."
He smiles against your hairline, his heavy eyelids yielding to the fresh scent of the artificial candle and the sweetness of the fruit you use for conditioner.
"It's hell sleeping in motels, it's all so fucking cold and everything stinks of cheap detergent."
"That's what you smelled like when I met you."
He can't let you hit his pride that low so he responds by digging his fingers into your ribs until you're squealing and begging for mercy.
"That's how I managed to charm you."
"You did..."
"I'm sure it was with my angel face."
You purr, rolling your eyes. His fingers threaten to tickle you again and you have to break the comfortable position you're in to raise your hands in surrender.
"One hundred percent, yes, it was your beautiful, gorgeous angel face, I swear."
His warm kisses on your neck surprise you and you have to wriggle just a little further out of his powerful embrace before you both correct your bodies to the initial form.
"That's what I thought." Another gentle kiss and your tummy twitches.
"I'm glad you made it home safe."
He's glad for more than having a physical structure to return to (which he's grateful for how you have no idea), he's glad to have a person to call home, and not just anyone. You. If anything should happen to you—
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