Work Text:
There was something missing.
Denji can feel himself try to claw through the back of his mind, trying to relieve himself of a hole that was carved in his very brain. If he were any more eloquent a person, he’d describe himself desolate and empty, nothing to soothe himself.
But he wasn’t a well-spoken man, nor did he wish to describe himself that way.
Tubs of hummus were easier to carry. Yes, Denji stared down at the tub of hummus.
(There was something missing.)
Denji smiled at his own absurdity, wishing Powder was here to see this. Although he didn’t think Powder wouldn’t be more amused then elated for some hummus.
(There was something missing.)
Something soft and small brushed up against his knee as he’s sat against the floor. Denji looks down and meets Meowy, and scoops up the hummus with his finger. He puts the hummus covered finger in front of the feline to sniff, and eventually lick.
(At least there was someone else here.)
Denji smooths out the fur on Meowy’s back, relishing the softness of her coat.
(Something else.)
Once Meowy is satisfied with the amount of hummus she got, she bumps her head on Denji’s hand before leaving him be. Off to roll around in Powder’s clothes probably.
Meowy’s constant need for her owner reminded him of someone else.
He turns back to the tub of hummus, once again remembering how kooky of a caper it was. To buy a huge tub of hummus. Because where else would he have found one? And what other chance would he get to have a huge tub of hummus in his home? He physically nods to his logic, one without inhibition and without abandon. This tub of hummus was representative of something bigger then just substance for the night, it was his rebellion against a world that wouldn’t have let him eat tubs of hummus otherwise.
(What world?)
(His world, maybe)
Aki.
Putting his whole body into the motion, Denji dips his hand in, second knuckle deep, and digs out the hummus from there. Somehow, he dizzies himself in the process. Maybe it was something else making him dizzy, actually. He’s lightheaded.
He feels sick.
He carelessly licks the hummus off of his fingers, drops of the paste dropping onto his pants onto the floor. He swallows the dip as he goes, and even before his fingers are fully clean, he scoops his fingers back into the tub for more. He doesn’t consider himself much of a glutton, but when he he greedily fits his hummus covered fingers into his mouth he feels the shame of one. Disgust casts itself over him all while he ignores the mess he’s making, focusing on consuming the hummus.
He digs into the hummus over and over, he cleans his hands off of it without rhythm, his body failing to keep up with his greed. His escape, his distraction.
He doesn’t stop when his head throbs, when his finger slick up with mixtures of spit and hummus. He dives and comes back out of the tub with reckless abandon, anything to escape the emptiness.
He misses Aki, so so much.
Not all of the hummus is gone when he hits the bottom of the plastic tub. There’s much he has left behind in his frenzy to get as much as he could into his mouth. There’s plenty left on the sides, and plenty more on the surrounding area from the bottom he hit. There’s hummus on the wooden floor, his pants, and his fingers.
But he doesn’t care about that. He doesn’t care about the hummus, about his health, or about the mess. None of it matters. Denji curls up into the ball, silently crying, left for Powder to discover in the morning.