no subject

[ Akira shuts up, which is shockingly easy for him to do when he's not really that much of a chatterbox to begin with. He slips his other hand under the back of the hoodie, splaying on the flat of Akechi's back, on the skin there that isn't nearly as warm as it should be. It's too intimate, too much, too fast, but he can feel Akechi's unsteadiness start to bleed out quickly enough at the contact.

Akira feels the urge to apologize and swallows it down; what's he supposed to say? Sorry I brought you back to life? Sorry you're stuck touching me when you're not entirely sure you like me?

It'd be hollow. Akira hopes this is over soon, though -- he wants Akechi to be touching him of his own free will. ]