[ Physical contact is not something he seeks out; in fact, it's a thing he routinely does not even consider, outside of sparring, outside of putting his fists to someone's face. So why, he wonders, does the pressure of Black's hands on his feel perfectly right? Like puzzle pieces, slotting together as an image begins to take form. A deep satisfaction uncurling in his chest, that rings every alarm in his waking mind -- not right, not mine.
He jerks his hands back, flatting his hands to snap the ones holding him away. A practiced slip-hold, one that doesn't rely on him putting a boot to Black's narrow chest and shoving him across the room. There's no need for something that complex, when he can rely on his own strength instead. Bakugo retreats, a pace, then two, holding one wrist in the other, trying to parse the weird sense.
This guy is -- his. Or, he's "considered" his. It's why he put out the call, to warn off the deeper layering of "nest" that his brain was not up for grabs, not up to be split up among this weird alien hivemind and consumed. But, the contact... it was a mistake. He won't make that mistake again. ]
-- well, good! As long as you understand, there won't be any problems between us!
[ Something else tugs at him, some recognition. It bleeds between them; deja vu, as though he's heard Black's voice, through a recording that's playing in another room. ]
no subject
He jerks his hands back, flatting his hands to snap the ones holding him away. A practiced slip-hold, one that doesn't rely on him putting a boot to Black's narrow chest and shoving him across the room. There's no need for something that complex, when he can rely on his own strength instead. Bakugo retreats, a pace, then two, holding one wrist in the other, trying to parse the weird sense.
This guy is -- his. Or, he's "considered" his. It's why he put out the call, to warn off the deeper layering of "nest" that his brain was not up for grabs, not up to be split up among this weird alien hivemind and consumed. But, the contact... it was a mistake. He won't make that mistake again. ]
-- well, good! As long as you understand, there won't be any problems between us!
[ Something else tugs at him, some recognition. It bleeds between them; deja vu, as though he's heard Black's voice, through a recording that's playing in another room. ]