Sleep did not come so easily to Dito this night, though he'd long since gotten used to Shigaraki reaching out to him. It was much different from the way that Five used to clutch at him in her sleep, more like a child grasping their favorite toy for subconscious comfort than any sort of hedonistic ownership, and damn if Dito could figure out why that didn't bother him as much.
This was not what was keeping him awake. The memories of what had transpired only a few days ago were foremost in his mind-- memories of the Shigaraki who was not Shigaraki; memories of the man Kurogiri had called All For One, who had somehow slipped into Shigaraki's body like someone slipping on a well-worn suit tailored perfectly for him. Had Shigaraki still been in there, fighting the entire time? Or had he been watching helplessly as his own body moved in ways that weren't of his control, in the same way Dito had been forced to watch the sword slip from his hands in his first attempt to murder Five?
The Disciple's stomach gave a sudden queasy lurch. He swallowed hard and fought to empty his mind, focusing instead on Shigaraki's softly closed eyes with the strangely white lashes; on the rhythmic ebb and flow of his breathing. Dito's hand was curled against the other man's chest, and he could feel the strong and steady beat of his heart beneath his shirt. Would he have been able to tell the difference between his employer's own heartbeat and that of All For One's?
Dito watched as his hand slowly splayed out against Shigaraki's chest. Almost as if it had a mind of its own, his hand began to travel down the length of the other man's torso, fingers tracing every curve and contour of muscle beneath the fabric. Shigaraki's time away had certainly brought some changes to his physique-- along with some injuries, though those had since been healed.
Dito's fingers traveled downward, past Shigaraki's chest to his taut abdominal muscles. He flicked his eyes up to the other man's face, sure that he would see those striking crimson eyes open and staring at him, but they remained closed. Strange, really-- Shigaraki had always been a light sleeper. Still, it was probably just as well. Dito would've been hard-pressed to explain why he was suddenly feeling up his employer while he was sleeping.
His tongue darted out to nervously lick his lips. His mouth had strangely become dry.
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This was not what was keeping him awake. The memories of what had transpired only a few days ago were foremost in his mind-- memories of the Shigaraki who was not Shigaraki; memories of the man Kurogiri had called All For One, who had somehow slipped into Shigaraki's body like someone slipping on a well-worn suit tailored perfectly for him. Had Shigaraki still been in there, fighting the entire time? Or had he been watching helplessly as his own body moved in ways that weren't of his control, in the same way Dito had been forced to watch the sword slip from his hands in his first attempt to murder Five?
The Disciple's stomach gave a sudden queasy lurch. He swallowed hard and fought to empty his mind, focusing instead on Shigaraki's softly closed eyes with the strangely white lashes; on the rhythmic ebb and flow of his breathing. Dito's hand was curled against the other man's chest, and he could feel the strong and steady beat of his heart beneath his shirt. Would he have been able to tell the difference between his employer's own heartbeat and that of All For One's?
Dito watched as his hand slowly splayed out against Shigaraki's chest. Almost as if it had a mind of its own, his hand began to travel down the length of the other man's torso, fingers tracing every curve and contour of muscle beneath the fabric. Shigaraki's time away had certainly brought some changes to his physique-- along with some injuries, though those had since been healed.
Dito's fingers traveled downward, past Shigaraki's chest to his taut abdominal muscles. He flicked his eyes up to the other man's face, sure that he would see those striking crimson eyes open and staring at him, but they remained closed. Strange, really-- Shigaraki had always been a light sleeper. Still, it was probably just as well. Dito would've been hard-pressed to explain why he was suddenly feeling up his employer while he was sleeping.
His tongue darted out to nervously lick his lips. His mouth had strangely become dry.