Your eyes flick up to Denji’s messy blonde hair — it’s a little choppy, curling at his nape like a mullet that wasn’t entirely intentional but he pulls off anyways. He used to cut his hair with some shitty scissors he found at the dump yard. He wasn’t a professional by any means but Pochita always used to yap and nod when he showed him the final results.

You fingers gently slide through his unruly hair and you’re careful as you gather the honey blond bangs from his forehead, sliding them back. Denji had been complaining about his bangs being in his eyes, almost costing him a limb today against a Devil. So you’d dragged him to the bathroom of the apartment you share with him, Aki and Power. You’ve sat him on a stool and now you’re standing behind him with a pair of scissors.

“Surprisingly clean,” you mutter under your breath as you brush your fingers through his hair, trying to get it a little neater before you start to trim the honey blond hair. His hair smells like strawberries, probably from that shampoo he loves so much and it’s getting a little too long. You don’t really know how to cut hair but you’re tired of Denji complaining so here you are, being a good teammate and friend to the menace.

“I shower,” Denji mutters indignantly, brows pinched in mild offence, his amber eyes flicking up to look at you behind him but you simply push his head back down as you start to snip the overgrown hair at his nape. You hum lightly at his defensiveness but he continues, his fingers curled into his thighs like he’s trying not to fidget. It’s moments like these that remind you that Denji’s still new to this — to the whole touch thing that didn’t require a lot of pain and usually a lose of a body part for him.

“I shower all the time, even though Aki gets mad at me cause I use up all the hot water but then he complains when I don’t shower so I can never win,” he mutters, fingers curled to his thighs, watching you through the mirror hanging in front of you both as you snip and the blond strands fall to the floor.