stealhearted | are you hurting the one you love?

If you let it be easy, you wouldn't be you. [ Akira likes the challenge that Akechi presents, as a general rule, but it's not like Akira would say no if Akechi's defenses all went down at once and he let Akira in.

Okay, that's a lie: Akira would be so suspicious that he wouldn't even be able to take advantage of the situation, but he can pretend. It's true, though: part of the reason he likes Akechi (all the reasons wrapped up into a big, confusing tangle) is the way he can be so stubborn about things while being so obvious. He'll claim he wants to eat soba when he clearly wants udon and he won't back down even though he doesn't actually want the soba -- he's that kind of a person.

Akira, unfortunately, finds that cute. He's got it bad.

Innocently, Akira leans in to look at Akechi. ]

You're pretty red. Is the bath overheating you? [ The fact that he can keep the smile off his face is kind of impressive. ]

[He is an exceptionally contradictory person, but he will also absolutely fight with himself and everyone else that he wants something even if he relatively clearly doesn't want it, just for the agency of getting to choose.]

[See, for instance: the whole dying thing. That was definitely all for show.]

[He inhales and huffs the breath back out in a huge overblown sigh, puffing his cheeks out and everything, not turning his head when he moves his eyes to glower at Akira.] Oh, it must be. Perhaps I should get out, [And-- so he stands up, right there, less than six inches away from Akira's fucking face. Because who are they if they aren't being absolute twats to each other.]

[He does, at least, turn away from him to climb out of the bath, but it doesn't change that he still did it in clear and plain view. Suffer, Kurusu.]

[ There is a very short expanse of time where Akira's brain visible short circuits. It nearly makes audible whirring noises as his actual coherent thoughts try to catch back up, and it's only the fact that he's been in the bath with Akechi before, has already seen him naked before, that ends up saving him.

Also, he really doesn't want to think about "bath house nudity" in a sexual context when it's so full of old men. He's not into that.

He catches up quick enough, though, getting out of the bath himself and going to towel off like he can remove the flush from his cheeks if he rubs at his face hard enough.

It, shockingly, does not work. ]

[Akechi wishes he were faring as well-- getting flustered all to hell seemed to have done a number on him, on top of the fact that he isn't used to baths like this anymore, and that crazy old man was probably playing his "how hot can I make this water" game, anyway. So once he's back out into the changing area near their borrowed lockers, the change in air temperature makes him woozy and he wraps a towel around his hips before he opens his locker and hooks his fingers inside the door in favor of crouching and ducking his head against his knees.]

[Suffer, honestly.]

[ Akira watches him and blinks, before he gets the sort of fondly exasperated expression on his face that would make everyone in a ten mile radius immediately get sixteen cavities. It's gross and it's absolutely telling of how much he likes Akechi, so it's a good thing Akechi can't see it.

Akira pulls his clothing on pretty quickly, then very slowly tests the limit of the invisible jumper cable keeping them attached -- he leans out of the door, keeping an eye on when the edge of the barrier seems to rustle Akechi's hair, and can just barely hit the buttons on the vending machine to successfully retrieve two cold beverages for them.

He steps back over and immediately puts it on the back of Akechi's neck. ]

[He is nothing if not a huge fool that constantly makes his own life significantly harder than it has to be. But blessed be the powers that prevent him from seeing that goopy smile on Akira's face, because he would attempt to cause him harm, and probably only wind up hurting himself in the long run.]

[But, you know, feel free to enjoy the borderline lewd sharp intake of breath and gasp received for that cold drink against his neck when he was absolutely not paying attention to where Akira was enough to even consider what was about to happen. He winds up letting go of the locker door and floundering, tipping backward and dropping onto his ass, tucking his knees up close to his body and giving Akira a glare befitting of an angry cat.] Wh-- warn me, you dolt.

[ The sweet, sweet taste of revenge tastes a lot like Pocari. ]

Thought you might need to cool down. [ Which goes for both of them, actually, and honestly the thing Akira is most thankful of is the fact that he has in no way accidentally sprung a boner, because it's not like he'd be able to hide anything. At least clothing helps.

God, living with Akechi so close all the time now that Akechi knows is going to be torture. Akira still thinks it's better Akechi knows, but.

He's sixteen, this is going to be hell. ]

Unless you need me to carry you home.

[He grumbles, snatching the drink and placing it against his cheek, then rolling it to his neck, and he wilts where he sits.] Yes, [He agrees, but then opens his eyes to continue to glower up at him.]

But I do not need to be carried, thank you, you live directly across the street.

I'm pretty strong. [ Which is absolutely not the point. Of course Akira can carry Akechi -- he carries the team on his grappling hook on a pretty regular basis, and that's not just cognitive strength -- but the point is about Akechi's pride.

Which is why Akira is happy to gently roll across that pride like a cat that's had too much catnip. ]

That does nothing to convince me to allow you to carry me. It does less, in fact, because now I know how much you want to.

[He rolls to his feet, wobbles, grabs the inside of his locker and goes about getting dressed again like a man half-drunk, but it's fine. He closes the locker again and stands in his shoes, heels over the backs of them because he just cannot be assed to put them on all the way.] Not a word.

Mmhmm. [ Akira hums, and then leans down, gently tugging at the back of Akechi's shoes until they fall into a more reasonable shape that won't give him blisters even on the five minute walk back to Leblanc.

He does, however, reach out slightly, a hand hovering just behind the small of Akechi's back. He doesn't touch him, but it's there, a stabilizer should Akechi need it.

Akira doesn't acknowledge it. ]

You ate all the carrots out of your curry. Should I add in more?

[A long-suffering sigh, and he gives him a withered frown.] I understand that my behavior today has not instilled much confidence in my ability to function as an independent individual, but really, you needn't smother me.

[A beat, and he frowns, deliberating over whether or not he wants to be contrary enough to deny himself more carrots.] If you want to, [Which may be code for yes, please, give him so many carrots.]

This isn't smothering. This is... [ Akira considers, searching for a more complimentary word for his current behavior. ] Doting. [ Which kind of makes him sound like a grandmother forcing cookies upon the neighborhood children, but like, Akira's pretty sure neither of them had nice (or any) grandparents, so sure.

That's fine. ]

When you like someone, you want to do things for them. Even little things.

[His shoulders pull inward and he curls his fingers in toward his palms, scrunching his face and looking over at Akira like the approximation of a grandchild whose grandmother just gave him a really, really ugly sweater for Christmas.]

...well, [He huffs, because he knows Akira won't just stop, possibly can't, but in the best of cases it makes his insides squirm and in the worst it makes him feel like he's being rubbed on all sides by fine-grain sandpaper.] ...don't, so much. I know you won't stop, I'm not stupid enough to attempt to ask that, but, just... Don't hover. It's wildly disconcerting.

I'll stop hovering when you can stand without wobbling. [ Which Akechi is doing better at, actually, so Akira does give him a little more space. The fresh air outside is probably helping. It's actually pretty chilly, for as early as it is, but it probably feels good for as overheated as Akechi is. ]

[He huffs again and stops walking, standing upright and scowling at him a bit like a wounded animal.] I'm fine, Kurusu. I overheated in the bath last time, too, let me be. I'm just not used to them.

It's weird, huh? Having someone trying to take care of you. [ Akira doesn't say it in an accusatory way -- sort of a vague, almost scientifically curious way. Akira hasn't had anyone take care of him in a very long time, either. Sure, Sojiro's his guardian, and he's much more present than his actual parents, and all the other good adults in his life certainly do their best -- but Akira has never had anyone fuss over him.

There's never dinner waiting for him; his lunch is never packed ahead of time. No one is there when he's sick, and no one is there when he has nightmares. He thinks it must have been the same for Akechi, at least for most of Akechi's life. He doesn't know what his mom was like, not really.

Akira wonders, sometimes, if he's trying to take care of everyone else because no one ever took care of him. ]

I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. [He all but spits the response-- harsher than it needs to be, like many of his barbs are, each consonant hit a little harder than the last, but if he doesn't secure this much for himself, he's been skating by on the skin of his teeth since he was eight years old, and he refuses to believe or admit to that. He has little concept of the fact that Akira was under similar circumstances by different means, but really, knowing that might only anger him further. It's just another thing that Akira took in stride, handled like water rolling off a duck, swam through like a fish, when Akechi dug in his heels and insisted on being self-sufficient, made it harder for anyone to come close enough that they could even see he wasn't.]

[He isn't.]

[Still standing still, he covers his face with both his hands and inhales slowly, threading his fingers up into his hair again and pulling as he exhales. Eventually he stops pulling on his hair, smooths his hands backward, and looks back forward, poised and pretending.] Your concern really isn't necessary. [But oh, God, does he want to accept it.]

[ Akira waits until the fit is over before he replies. They're nearly at Leblanc, so he stops walking, watches the way it crumples through Akechi's body, his entire body language tensing under the strain of things Akira only knows the beginning of. ]

I know you can take care of yourself. [ Akira says it, glancing sideways at Akechi with a smile that's a little more sad than it is fond. ]

It's more like... I wanted someone to take care of me, sometimes. [ This time, the smile is definitely sad, even if it's even brighter when he turns it on Akechi properly. ]

So I want to take care of you like that. The kind of caring that you can get by without, but it's nicer not to.

[It's like he's being punched in the stomach repeatedly by his eight year old self, being told Akira wanted someone to take care of him. There are several voices in the back of his mind, all screaming something different: "I don't want someone to take care of me anymore than I need it", "I would have taken care of you if we'd met sooner", "Take care of yourself before you worry about others", and most prominently--]

Stop it.

[The sound he makes is like someone sweeping up broken glass, he thinks. It hardly classifies as a word. He can't go inside like this, not when there are probably still customers, and Sojiro besides, and he can't keep causing everyone trouble all the time because he's fine.]

[ Akira doesn't stop. On the contrary, he steps forward again, stepping into Akechi's personal space. Akechi's still wearing his hoodie, and he draws the hoodie back up, uses it to help block out the rest of the world and stand against the fact that Akechi now has a very prominent, uncovered bruise across his cheek.

Then he just drops a hand to Akechi's shoulder in an easy, gentle squeeze, like it's totally normal. ]

I don't think I can. [ It's a little self-deprecating, actually; it's a smile that's a little fake around the edges, a little bit of the child that had nightmares alone in his room, knowing that no one would help him if the monsters were real, trying to stay quiet in case his parents were home. ]

Like I said. You're the first time I've ever wanted something just for me. So I can't stop.

But I'm fine!

[He wrenches away, because of course he does, taking steps backward and away from him, swiping his hands through the air to push him away in case he tries to follow.] I'm fine, so just leave me alone, I don't need your saving! I don't want it...!

[You know, as evidenced by the fact that for the millionth time in this day, he sounds like he's seconds away from bursting into a horrible sobbing fit.]

[ Akira catches Akechi's wrists. It's not like Akechi is on the top of his game right now; he's worn and sore and ragged around all the edges that matter, so it's a pretty simple thing to do. Akira could probably overpower Akechi in terms of raw strength even if they were both at the top of their game -- though it'd be a little dicey back when they had Persona to use. ]

You're fine. [ Akira leans in, presses his forehead against Akechi's. It's not even romantic, really -- just more of those things he'd wished for someone else to do. ] You're always fine. You're fine, and you're strong, and you can take care of yourself, and you don't need anyone else.

I'm the one that needs you.

[He's absolutely infuriated that Akira managed to not only disassemble his argument that easily and that quickly, but he rebuilt it to use it against him in the most straightforward way to where Akechi can't... quite figure out how to rebuke him. He takes in more of those sharp, shallow little breaths like he was at the bath house, but not because he's trapped in awful memories, this time, because Akira is very real and very in front of him. Holding his wrists, putting their foreheads together.]

[Saying he needs him, the complete walnut.]

[It's hard to say if the shuddering way he breathes is because he's trying not to cry, or because he's just that incandescently angry, but it's probably a little of both.] I don't want to be needed, either. I'm not reliable, I-- I won't do any of the things you want of me. I can't.

I don't need you to do anything like that. You don't have to take care of me, or date me, or do anything you don't want to. [ Akira pulls away, just a little, to give Akechi a sort of half-smile. It's strange -- that Akira, of all people, has trouble imagining a future in which he gets what he wants; in which he's allowed the kind of things everyone else is.

For all that he seems to have hope for the future, he tries not to imagine what he wants too much. He can see it in his mind -- lazy mornings with the smell of coffee in a small apartment, the sleepy sound of bare skin on sheets, the rustling of paperwork and typing of keys. It feels so natural that it aches inside of him, because he wants it more than anything, and he's afraid that it means that this -- this thing, this one desire that he has -- is just going to be wishing for someone to come in when he was a child having nightmares. ]

So -- can you just let me love you? Just until you can leave. When you can, you can go as far away as you want. But until then.

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