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Tanjiro just wanted to go to bed.
Given the lateness of the hour, this shouldn’t have been an unreasonable request, but something that Tanjiro had learnt over the many years of travelling with Inosuke was that boars didn't have a bedtime. And neither, therefore, did Inosuke.
So instead of being curled up in the comfortable warmth of his futon he was sat beside Nezuko, growing slightly dizzy from watching Inosuke chase Zenitsu around the room they were all sharing in the Butterfly Mansion.
“You guys,” Tanjiro began again, wearily. “It’s late, we should really get some sleep.”
“Oh, I’d love to,” Zenitsu huffed sarcastically, continuing to scramble over the mess of bedding and clothes. “But this moron won’t leave me alone!”
Inosuke cackled madly through his mask as he continued to chase his prey, his loose yukata flapping behind him as he ran. It seemed to Tanjiro that despite how the years had honed their minds and bodies, their spirits, some things would never change. He sighed, and prepared to intervene for what felt like the hundredth time.
But then Inosuke suddenly dropped to the floor in a dramatic somersault, and Tanjiro felt a fleeting stab of hope that this might be the end of his antics for the night. However it seemed he’d only switched tactics, as Inosuke instead grabbed a pillow and launched it straight at Zenitsu, catching him squarely in the back and causing him to fall to the floor with a winded ‘oof.’
Tanjiro shook his head and turned to Nezuko. “Are you tired?”
She nodded, rubbing her eyes blearily. It had been a long night of tracking a particularly difficult demon through the deep forests nearby, and they had only come back an hour ago. While they all seemed a little worse for wear, Tanjiro felt especially bad for his sister whose long hair was tangled and full of knots.
“Shall I brush your hair before you go to bed?” Tanjiro offered.
Nezuko made a noise of contented agreement and crawled over to sit in front of him obediently. Tanjiro took out the little wooden brush he kept in one of his bags and set to work. Since becoming a demon all those years ago, Nezuko found it difficult to hold the brush so Tanjiro had taken to doing this for her occasionally. He was happy to do it, as he had been since they were little, and found the rhythmic task oddly relaxing.
He separated Nezuko’s hair out into three main sections and began to gently tug away at the knots, starting at the ends and then working up to her roots, the way his mother had taught him.
Tanjiro became so engrossed in what he was doing that he almost didn’t realise how quiet the room was. When he eventually did, he paused and looked up to see both Inosuke and Zenitsu lying sprawled on the floor nearby, apparently not having moved for several minutes, watching the siblings closely.
Well, Zenitsu at least was definitely watching, a somewhat dreamy expression evident on his face, no doubt picturing himself in Tanjiro’s place. On the other hand, while it was difficult to tell if Inosuke was looking or not, given his mask, Tanjiro could still sense the weight of his gaze, something he’d grown accustomed to over the years. What he perhaps hadn’t yet grown accustomed to was the recent tight, fluttery feeling in his chest that came with it.
Trying not to get distracted by his apparently captivated audience, Tanjiro continued combing Nezuko’s hair until the brush finally ran smoothly through her long, wavy locks. Then he patted her head to signal he was done, as he always did.
“Wahh,” Zenitsu sighed, looking misty-eyed. “Nezuko-chan, I can do that for you next time!”
She ignored this suggestion, as did Tanjiro, who instead watched as Inosuke lifted the boar mask off, his stomach somersaulting as it always did when Inosuke’s pretty face appeared, his dark hair spilling over his shoulders. But then he shook his head rather violently, and what seemed like half the forest flew out, leaves and twigs landing everywhere.
“Inosuke!” Zenitsu shrieked, yanking his duvet desperately out of the way. “You’re getting crap everywhere, stop it!”
Inosuke merely growled in reply and placed his mask carefully on the floor next to his futon, his hair now somewhat resembling a bird’s nest.
“Would you like to borrow the comb, Inosuke?” Tanjiro asked politely, holding it out to him.
Inosuke eyed it warily, as if it were a coiled snake. “No!” he snapped.
Tanjiro frowned in disapproval at this answer, finding himself in strangely familiar territory. It wasn’t just Nezuko’s hair that he used to brush when they were little. Given how busy his mother was, he’d often help out with their younger brothers and sisters too, though they were often far less cooperative than Nezuko.
Tanjiro was well versed in the careful tactics required for this delicate task, and each of his siblings had needed something different to complete it. Sometimes it was the temptation of a prize, like an extra pudding or a new chapter from the book they’d been reading. Other times it required a game or a challenge to be extended. Tanjiro knew which would work best for Inosuke.
He gave a dramatic sigh of defeat, smiling slightly. “Well, that’s ok. We all know Nezuko is the best in the group, so it makes sense that she is also the best behaved.”
He watched in satisfaction as Inosuke’s eyes narrowed.
“In fact you could say if this was a fight,” Tanjiro continued cheerfully. “Nezuko has won.”
Inosuke’s face screwed up in concentration and Tanjiro waited patiently, remaining firm in his resolve. Then, without another word, Inosuke leaped to his feet and slammed onto the ground in front of Tanjiro, sitting cross-legged, clenching his thighs, his whole body rigid.
Tanjiro blinked in surprise. He tried not to smile at the way Inosuke was sitting, like a cat awaiting a bath, and instead assessed the damage. There was a lot of forest debris tangled up in Inosuke’s hair, no doubt caused by the amount of time he’d spent swinging around in the trees earlier that day. Tanjiro have to get rid of it all before he could even think about using a brush.
With a small sigh, he began to carefully pull the twigs and leaves out of the other boy’s hair, trying to be gentle even as Inosuke growled and squirmed and fidgeted, apparently hating every moment of discomfort. Eventually Inosuke’s hair was completely free of the debris, and Tanjiro was finally able to move onto the comb. He ran it through Inosuke’s hair once, and felt him grow suddenly still.
Tanjiro paused, worried he’d hurt his friend, but he couldn’t sense any pain or tension in the air, and indeed Inosuke’s earlier discomfort seemed to have loosened. Relieved, and slightly curious about this reaction, Tanjiro continued to brush Inosuke’s hair, occasionally using his fingers instead to make sure he hadn’t missed any of the smaller knots.
It felt somehow different to Nezuko’s; thicker yet surprisingly soft. Tanjiro liked how the locks felt between his fingers and how strangely peaceful it seemed to be making Inosuke, who was breathing deeply.
“I’ve never seen him this quiet,” Zenitsu mused, looking at Inosuke thoughtfully.
Nezuko nodded, making a noise of agreement.
“Tell me if you want me to stop and I will,” Tanjiro said to Inosuke.
The other boy snorted in return, seeming to break out of whatever trance he’d been in. “Stupid Ponjiro.”
“You know that’s not my name,” Tanjiro chided, as he combed through the last of the knots. “Ok, all done!
He sat back, assuming Inosuke would immediately dash off or start harassing Zenitsu again, but he simply leaned all the way back, his head tilting further and further until he was squarely looking up at Tanjiro upside down, frowning.
“What is it?” Tanjiro asked, confused.
Inosuke then swivelled round, still frowning, so they faced each other. Tanjiro blinked, his heart skipping, unsure of what the other boy wanted. Then Inosuke was grabbing his hand and holding it above his head. Before Tanjiro could do anything else, Inosuke had shot upwards into Tanjiro’s open palm, effectively headbutting it.
Tanjiro’s cheeks flushed with colour as he realised Inosuke had been waiting for a head pat, just as he had done for Nezuko. Momentarily stunned by this surprisingly cute behaviour, Tanjiro watched as Inosuke scrambled across the floor towards Zenitsu, who gave an indignant squawk, and dove into his futon to protect himself. Then, hiding a smile, Tanjiro put out the lanterns and crawled into his own bed, and the others followed suit (eventually).
Despite how tired he had been earlier, however, Tanjiro lay there in the dark for some time simply gazing at his hand. His fingers tingled from where he’d felt Inosuke’s soft hair earlier, and there lingered the familiar scent of woodsmoke and fresh pine. Inosuke’s scent.
It was a while before Tanjiro was able to fall asleep.
With no crows circling overhead the following day, the three of them dedicated their time to training in one of the many yards of the Butterfly Mansion together, as Nezuko slept soundly in her box. The day seemed to pass quickly, taking it in turns to spar one-on-one to improve their combat techniques.
As usual, Tanjiro found Inosuke’s presence incredibly distracting, especially when it got later in the day and Inosuke’s bare, muscular chest began to glisten with sweat in the sunshine. Tanjiro swallowed, clenching his fists, trying to stop himself from imagining what it might be like to run his hands all over those broad muscles. He was not always successful.
After dinner, the three of them took their baths and headed back to their room to settle down for the night. It was only as Tanjiro finished laying out his futon that he realised one of their party had ominously vanished.
“Have you seen Inosuke?” He frowned, looking around.
“No, and I hope it stays that way,” Zenitsu grumbled. “He needs to learn to respect bedtime; I need my beauty sleep, Tanjiro! And my butt still hurts from where that stupid boar kicked me yesterday.”
Tanjiro was about to say that he didn’t want to hear about the state of Zenitsu’s butt, when suddenly the door slid open dramatically. Zenitsu shrieked at the sight of the figure standing in the doorway and Tanjiro couldn’t blame him.
For the most part, Inosuke looked perfectly clean and tidy (as far as his standards went) but his hair resembled a giant knot, stuffed with shrubbery.
“What have you been doing?!” Zenitsu demanded.
Inosuke looked thoughtful for several minutes. “Walking,” he replied slowly.
“That took way too long for you to say, you’re clearly lying!” Zenitsu continued. “Your hair looks like you’ve walked through several hedges.”
Inosuke grinned triumphantly. “Gonpochiro will need to comb it! Gyahahah.”
Tanjiro looked at him suspiciously. Inosuke’s hair had not been anywhere near that tangled after dinner. What had he been doing since then, and why did he want his hair brushed? Was it a weird power thing? Tanjiro couldn’t figure it out.
“Ok,” he sighed. “Come and —”
But Inosuke had already darted over and scrambled to the floor, sitting in front of Tanjiro. Slightly bewildered at this behaviour, Tanjiro looked at Zenitsu for answers, but the other boy merely shrugged, apparently also confused.
Just like last time, Tanjiro began by picking out the foliage from Inosuke’s hair, and in doing so he recognised various berries and flowers from the mansion’s gardens. What on earth had Inosuke been doing to cause this? Tanjiro grimaced at the thought of what state the gardens were in now, not to mention what Shinobu-san would say about it.
It took a long time to get it all out but once he had, Tanjiro then took up the brush and began combing Inosuke’s hair. Like the previous night he stayed alert for any signs of discomfort from his friend, but there was none. In fact, Inosuke seemed to be even more relaxed this time, his head loose and his back bent slightly towards Tanjiro’s chest.
Tanjiro eventually decided to discard the brush and instead use his fingers, running them gently through Inosuke’s dark locks. He told himself he was checking for any stubborn tangles, but couldn’t deny how much he liked how it felt. This was only heightened further by the occasional little noises or sighs of contentment that Inosuke made.
Was he really… enjoying this?
The thought made Tanjiro’s heart speed up. Was that why his hair was in this state in the first place? To try and get Tanjiro to brush it again? It seemed so unlikely, and yet Tanjiro couldn’t deny the air of contentment that seemed to be rolling off of Inosuke in deep, slow waves.
“You know,” Tanjiro began carefully. “Sometimes even when Nezuko’s hair isn’t messy I still do this for her before bed,” he paused, thinking quickly. “It helps her sleep and that means she can become even stronger.”
Inosuke was quiet for a while. “I’m the strongest,” he retorted.
Tanjiro bit back a smile at this rather predictable answer. “I know, but if you think it will be good for your training I can do this whenever you want.”
Inosuke looked to the side, and Tanjiro couldn’t help but admire his long, dark eyelashes and the perfect curve of his lips from this angle.
“Not for Monitsu?” Inosuke asked slowly.
Tanjiro followed Inosuke’s gaze to where Zenitsu was sitting, and tried not to laugh at the horrified expression on his face from this mere suggestion. There was probably only one Kamado sibling that Zenitsu would let near his hair and it certainly wasn’t Tanjiro.
“Um, no,” he replied shyly. “It would be just for you.”
Inosuke was quiet for a while before giving a small grunt of ascent, and Tanjiro smiled happily.
After that it became routine for him to comb Inosuke’s hair before bed each day, and Tanjiro enjoyed those rare moments of closeness together, especially knowing it was something that Inosuke wanted. It also seemed that the more they did this, the closer to Tanjiro Inosuke sat.
And yet, as nice as it was getting to share these moments with Inosuke, it wasn’t something Tanjiro was used to, and soon his body began to react embarrassingly to their closeness. Inosuke’s scent was just so heady when they were near each other like this. Not only that, but while Inosuke often wore their customary yukata before bed, sometimes he was completely bare from the waist up, and Tanjiro would become hot, feeling the low tightening of arousal between his legs at having Inosuke’s half-naked body in such close proximity. Nevertheless, he managed to keep everything under control.
That is, until a few weeks later.
It was a hot summer’s evening, and the two of them were sitting alone in their room. It was stuffy inside, and Tanjiro could feel the uncomfortable way his yukata was sticking to his sweaty back. He was using his fingers to finish combing Inosuke's hair, when his thumb accidentally grazed the side of Inosuke’s neck.
Tanjiro pressed his lips together to stop himself making a sound at the unexpected contact. He was so distracted that he missed the other boy’s slight shudder at the touch. Inosuke’s skin was so soft there, at odds with the hard and muscular appearance of the rest of his body. But he was also incredibly hot and Tanjiro watched as a small bead of sweat ran temptingly down Inosuke’s neck and dipped out of sight into his yukata. Tanjiro licked his lip subconsciously, wondering if having longer hair made the heat harder to take.
“Are you too hot, Inosuke?” Tanjiro asked.
Inosuke gave a small nod, though surprisingly said nothing.
Tanjiro’s brows knitted together in concern, wondering how he could help his friend. Then he was hit by a sudden idea; if he could somehow tie Inosuke’s hair back it would let some air get to the back of his neck and hopefully cool him down a bit. Deciding on this course of action, Tanjiro gathered Inosuke’s hair together in his hand and twisted it upwards, causing Inosuke to let out a ragged gasp, his back arching sharply.
Alarmed at this unexpected reaction, Tanjiro dropped Inosuke’s hair immediately and was about to ask what was wrong, when Inosuke jumped to his feet with a yell and charged off through the open doorway, running off into the dark gardens below.
Tanjiro watched Inosuke disappear into the night, a heavy feeling of dread sinking into his stomach. What had he done?
Fear and worry continued to gnaw away at him for the rest of the night and the whole of the following day. Inosuke seemed so distant throughout their training and was even quiet during their mealtimes, which was completely unheard of, given the amount of noisy eating, squabbling with Zenitsu and demands for extra helpings that usually took place. Instead, Inosuke just sat there, picking at his food with a slight frown on his face.
After dinner, when the sun was beginning to set, Tanjiro found himself alone in their room. Nezuko was resting and Inosuke was nowhere to be seen. Zenitsu had also just left, announcing a bit too casually that he was ‘going for a bath,’ which probably meant he was just going to lurk hopefully near the bathhouse until he was inevitably kicked out.
Tanjiro was sitting on the tatami flooring with his legs out in front of him, packing up his clothes for their mission the following day, chewing his lip in worry. He’d definitely made Inosuke uncomfortable, but he had no idea how to make things right between the two of them, especially as Inosuke was already so distant and quiet with him. Tanjiro sighed, pausing in folding his haori, trying not to feel too downhearted.
But then a trace of woodsmoke on the air made him turn quickly to see Inosuke standing in the doorway wearing his yukata, his green eyes trained intently on Tanjiro. He looked oddly thoughtful.
“Inosuke,” Tanjiro began, a little breathless in surprise. “Is… is everything ok?”
At first the other boy said nothing in return, merely continuing to watch. Then, before Tanjiro knew what was happening, Inosuke had ran across the floor and leapt straight down in between Tanjiro’s legs, who gave a yelp of shock. He stayed stockstill, his limbs locked into place, afraid to move given there was only the smallest sliver of space between Inosuke’s back and Tanjiro’s chest. They were achingly close like this.
Tanjiro tried to take shallow breaths in order to not touch Inosuke, and said nothing, utterly overwhelmed and confused by their current situation. After another moment of silence, perhaps sensing Tanjiro’s reluctance to move, Inosuke leaned to the side and fished around in Tanjiro’s bag before pulling out the comb. He handed it to Tanjiro wordlessly.
“But your hair looks fine to m–” Tanjiro began, before catching sight of the way Inosuke was looking at him, silently asking.
So he took the comb, his heart racing, and gently began brushing Inosuke’s hair towards him. Tanjiro’s movements followed a familiar rhythm they’d picked up over the last few weeks of doing this together, but it felt… different this time. Tanjiro could feel the warmth of Inosuke’s body so close, and the air around them seemed charged with some strange new tension, as if the room itself was holding its breath.
After sitting in silence for a while, Tanjiro put the comb down and switched to just using his fingers, running them carefully through Inosuke’s dark locks. Occasionally there would be a small hitch in Inosuke’s breath which made Tanjiro’s stomach tighten deliciously.
“Your hair’s getting pretty long,” he commented, trying to distract himself. “I think you could even plait it.”
“Whazza plait?” Inosuke asked, his low, rumbly tone sounding almost sleepy.
“Like how Mitsuri-san wears it,” Tanjiro explained.
“Hm,” Inosuke replied. “You can if you want to so bad.”
Tanjiro smiled slightly, and began splitting Inosuke’s hair out into three sections before swiftly twining them together, his fingers darting quickly through the dark tendrils, as always admiring how soft it felt. However in order to make sure the style didn’t fall apart Tanjiro had to use a little more force with Inosuke’s hair than he normally did when brushing it, so without thinking, he tugged on the sections in front of him, but froze when it drew a small gasp from Inosuke, just as it had the previous night. Tanjiro braced himself, thinking Inosuke might run, but he didn’t. Instead he remained where he was, though his shoulders were rising and falling quickly, moving in time with his breathing.
Tentatively, Tanjiro continued plaiting, yet with every little pull it drew another hitched breath from Inosuke. Tanjiro could feel more heat rushing to his face every time it happened, desperately trying to stop himself from imagining them in other, more intimate, contexts. But this was made even more difficult when he noticed how Inosuke’s yukata had slipped slightly from his shoulders, revealing his bare skin beneath. Warmth pooled in Tanjiro’s stomach at the sight, fighting the urge to run his lips over the newly exposed skin, wondering how soft it might be, and what kind of new noises it might cause Inosuke to make.
Tanjiro cleared his throat, once again trying to distract himself. “I-Inosuke, would you mind turning around so I can make sure I got it all?”
The other boy seemed to hesitate for a moment, before slowly rotating round to face Tanjiro, whose stomach swooped at the sight that met his eyes.
Inosuke’s cheeks were the sweetest shade of cherry pink.
Was he… blushing? Did he blush every time he had his hair brushed? Tanjiro’s heart sped up at the thought of affecting Inosuke like that. The other boy was watching him with those dazzlingly green eyes. They were so beautiful, like jade or opal. But then those eyes were closing, and suddenly Inosuke bumped his forehead against Tanjiro’s.
“Want,” Inosuke growled.
“W-want?” Tanjiro repeated in bewilderment.
“Want to have more,” Inosuke said, sounding frustrated, grinding their foreheads together more forcefully.
“More what?” Tanjiro asked a little more urgently, entirely at a loss for what Inosuke might want, but desperate to give it to him.
Inosuke growled again. “More Tanjiro!”
Then Tanjiro was being pushed to the floor by Inosuke who hovered above him, his arms braced either side of Tanjiro’s head.
Tanjiro’s heart was pounding so loudly he could barely even think. He stared up in confusion at Inosuke, who seemed frustrated somehow. Tanjiro watched as locks of the other boy’s dark hair fell slowly from the plait like ribbons, blocking out the light from the lamps, until it curtained around them.
Then Inosuke was dipping forwards, and Tanjiro only had time to hastily close his eyes before he felt Inosuke’s teeth close around his bottom lip, nipping him there gently, and Tanjiro was unable to stop himself from moaning, his cock twitching beneath his yukata. It was probably the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced, especially considering how helplessly he was pinned between Inosuke’s legs, their bodies a mere inch apart.
Still, it didn’t seem to have satisfied whatever need Inosuke was feeling; Tanjiro could still sense his frustration. Then he watched as Inosuke’s gaze moved to his lips, and understanding dawned on him. Warmth spread through Tanjiro’s chest as he realised Inosuke’s somewhat clumsy intentions. Slowly he stretched upwards, not stopping until there was almost no distance between them.
“L-like this,” he whispered.
And before he could even begin to think through what he was doing, he closed his eyes and gently brushed his lips against the other boy’s, skimming the soft plump skin with his own. Then he drew back slightly, waiting for Inosuke’s reaction.
He didn’t have long to wait until Inosuke was dipping his head forwards to mirror Tanjiro’s actions, their parted lips dragging together. Tanjiro then ran his tongue curiously along Inosuke’s lower lip, inciting a growl from him, and they came together in a hungry kiss. It was desperate and messy, and Tanjiro could feel hot arousal building between his legs, spiking sharply when Inosuke pressed his tongue into his mouth, which Tanjiro accepted with a moan.
Their movements became frenzied as they continued to kiss, the room filled with wet noises that should have made Tanjiro feel shame, but it only urged him on, a wild heat spreading between the two of them like a blazing forest fire. Then Inosuke was pressing his body forwards, and Tanjiro broke the kiss with a gasp, overwhelmed by the sensation of having Inosuke everywhere.
Inosuke pulled back slightly to look at Tanjiro, his eyes dark. “Feels good.”
Tanjiro nodded in response, unable to speak, and Inosuke was bending forwards to press his mouth against Tanjiro’s neck and began kissing him there, the wet slide of his teeth and hot tongue making Tanjiro gasp and shudder, his hips jerking uncontrollably, seeking more contact. Inosuke’s mouth continued to work down Tanjiro’s neck until he reached his collarbone. He sucked and bit at the skin until Tanjiro was crying out, his chest heaving. But Inosuke didn’t show any signs of letting up or stopping, instead he simply yanked the front of Tanjiro’s yukata open, exposing his bare chest, and Tanjiro gasped in surprise.
“Pretty,” Inosuke murmured, his voice low and gravelly.
Tanjiro whimpered, and knew he should feel self-conscious like this, but he was far too distracted by the way Inosuke’s eyes were raking over him, almost hungrily. Then Inosuke bent low over Tanjiro’s body and began sucking at a pebbled nipple, his tongue and teeth teasing the sensitive bud making Tanjiro’s hips convulse. He’d never been touched like this before, and it felt incredible. He was hardly aware of the wanton noises escaping the back of his throat, unable to think past the way Inosuke’s mouth was teasing him.
Then Inosuke shifted above Tanjiro and their yukata parted, grazing their bare thighs together and Tanjiro’s head fell back against the floor, his back arching. He was unbearably hard now, his cock leaking obscenely. He felt hot and desperate, a tight tension winding impossibly low in his body.
Needing even more, Tanjiro reached down with his hands, stuffing them into Inosuke’s long, silky hair and tugged, hard, causing the other boy to release a broken groan and grind his hips down.
Tanjiro wailed as the movement caused their cocks to drag together, separated only by the thinnest layer of their yukata, his body unconsciously rising higher to meet Inosuke’s movements. They were both panting by this point, and then they were kissing, tongues rolling against one another’s as Inosuke pressed forwards again, rocking their bodies back and forth until Tanjiro felt the tension inside him suddenly spike, and knew what was about to happen. He broke the kiss, determined to tell Inosuke – to warn him. But before he could, Inosuke was speaking first.
“Tanjiro,” he groaned, his eyes dark, his cheeks flushed. “N-need to – have to–”
“I-it’s ok, Inosuke,” Tanjiro replied, sounding strained. “Me too.”
And then, before he could say another word, Inosuke’s hand had darted inside Tanjiro’s yukata, curling around his dripping, sensitive cock, and Tanjiro cried out at the sensation. Inosuke pushed himself more forcefully against Tanjiro and took them both in hand. And with only a few short, sharp tugs, they were both coming, warmth spilling over Inosuke’s fingers as their hips jerked together uncontrollably.
Tanjiro’s mind seemed to have gone completely blank. Everything was hazy and soft as he came down from the incredible high of his orgasm. Inosuke slumped on top of him, and Tanjiro couldn’t even bring himself to mind the extra weight, feeling so dazed and content as tiny tremors continued to spark through his body in aftershocks of pleasure.
Eventually Inosuke lifted his head and they stared at each other, still somewhat in shock at what they’d just done. But before they could say anything at all, the door to their room slid open behind them and they heard Zenitsu’s horrified shriek.
“What are you doing?!” He yelled.
The two of them looked up at their friend, and Tanjiro felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment at being caught like this, though feeling grateful that most of the evidence was hidden by Inosuke’s body, keeping him pressed to the floor.
“He’s mine, you can’t have him,” Inosuke snapped, his arms curling protectively around Tanjiro, who felt strangely pleased at this defensive gesture, unnecessary as it was.
“I don’t want Tanjiro, you idiot!” Zenitsu spluttered, aghast. “I want to sleep!” Then he turned, one hand on the door. “You’ve got five minutes to finish w-whatever you’re doing, and then it’s time for bed.”
He turned away quickly and slammed the door shut behind him.
Inosuke glared at the door and Tanjiro laughed. Then they looked at each other.
“You wanna go to bed?” Inosuke asked, sounding uncertain.
Tanjiro smiled shyly back at him. “Maybe not just yet.”