stealhearted | are you hurting the one you love?

[A bit of the fight goes out of him, and he shakes his head, shoulders going somewhat more lax.]

It isn't that I don't want to. [He leaves it at that, because it's enough of an admission in itself, and he doesn't take Akira's hands but he does shuffle forward and drop to sit on the edge of the futon.]

No one but me is going to know if you let yourself have nice things for a little while. [ For forever, actually, but Akira is willing to start with for now. He reaches out, doesn't quite take Akechi's hands but smooths down the sleeves of the borrowed hoodie. He considers how creepy it would be to tell Akechi not to wash it when he gives it back, but at this point he's not even sure that laundering it will get the smell out. ]

It's probably not the time to have another in-depth discussion about our emotional problems, so you'll just have to let me boss you around. [ He's starting to get that Akechi has to put up token protests for much longer than most people, but he's also starting to think that Akechi wants those protests to be overruled. Should he have tried harder, before?

Ah, it's no use thinking about it now, but he can tell when Akechi lingers on Akira's touches. ]

[The contact... is nice. He's a little unnerved by how nice it is. But he doesn't shy away from it, so they're both okay for now.] It's... really not that simple. [It is. It could be. He just won't let it be.]

[But he does let Akira paw at his sleeves a while, closing his eyes and just sitting still, learning how to accept positive contact for what it is.] Your... patience [Was it patience or just Akira in general?] is appreciated.

Edited 2021-03-09 23:41 (UTC)

I know. When you're ready to talk about it, I'll listen. [ And gently point out all the holes in Akechi's self-hatred logic, because Akira knows better than that because Akira has had very similar thoughts to Akechi on a regular basis before.

It's just that Akira has mostly managed to get over the urge to yeet out of this plane of existence. ]

Until then -- [ Akira leans over to the desk, not bothering to stand up and just moving to the edge of the bed to snag his laptop and pull it over. ]

We can watch more X-Folders until it's dinnertime. [ But on the laptop, which means a considerably closer quarters. ]

[He sits still a while longer, letting Akira amble around to get his laptop and suggest X-Folders again, turning to frown slightly at him.]

Will you actually pay attention this time?

[His voice feels like it sounds far away, like he isn't actually asking the question. He's so... out of sorts, because he's not. He's... safe, he's comfortable. Maybe not comfortable, but almost. Akira's presence has always been a strange sort of terry cloth sensation, where sometimes he feels sunburnt and can't handle him, but most times it's just familiar enough that he doesn't mind. Does it make sense? Absolutely not. Has he stopped trying to make it make sense? ...yeah, yeah he has.]

[Watching something on the laptop has obvious connotations of them sitting in much closer proximity, possibly holds the ulterior motive of Akira convincing him to sit in bed with him so that he'll fall asleep there so he can't back out of sharing sleeping quarters. His frown deepens.]

And don't think I plan to waste the evening, I still want to at least try to find another blanket so I don't have to cramp your sleeping space.

I want you to cramp my sleeping space. [ Really, he'll totally behave, hands to himself. He can't be held accountable for any cuddling that happens once he's passed out, though; he's a wiggly little furnace.

He sets the show back up, backtracking an episode to make up for the one that he'd completely zoned out over. ]

It's not a waste just to spend time together.

[He's still sitting on the edge of the futon, watching a dustbunny get slowly blown across the floor by an errant breeze from the poor weather stripping on the windows-- or maybe that was the space heater. He closes his eyes, draws in a breath, and sighs.] You really aren't giving up on this, are you.

You're not getting up. [ Akira offers it gently. He's learning a lot about Akechi, more than he had previously -- with all of Akechi's masks disintegrating, there's simply not much left, but he seems to be clinging to the remnants.

Akechi seems intent on punishing himself, if no one else will, but it doesn't seem like that's really what he wants. He says he wants to make his own choices, but Akira thinks Akechi might be alright with someone making choices for him that are actually... good ones. ]

I don't like being touched, [He says, suddenly, his body pulling tense again, and he turns a withering frown on Akira.] But it's. You keep doing it, and it's not terrible. It's... you said you have a better idea of who you are around me, but I think my problem is I know less about myself the longer I'm around you.

[He crawls backward, shuffling until he's sitting hip to hip with Akira, not-quite touching him.] You know I don't like unknowns, or guesswork. Not understanding my own psyche is the most alienating experience, and yet I don't entirely hate it.

Maybe you're just a different person than you thought you were. [ Maybe Akechi is just a different person around Akira, which Akira thinks might be the case, but that Akechi has been steadily infusing everything. That cautious politeness with the other Phantom Thieves; that desire not to offend those around him. Maybe it's because they could be useful later -- Akira imagines that's what Akechi tells himself -- but more than likely it's that sickly guilt, that desire to hold onto something he doesn't think he deserves. ]

You don't hate when I touch you, so we can start there. Maybe you're changing. [ Which Akira thinks is the real answer: now that Akechi is freed from having to be an assassin, and moreover, freed from that all-consuming anger, he's left directionless and out of control, a boat trying to get out to sea before the tsunami rolls in to ruin it. ]

Don't let it give you any ideas, [He offers loftily, turning to face the window. His posture is still... pinched, stressed, pulled inward, but he's still sitting beside him, so it's something, maybe. Akira wouldn't be wrong in assuming his aim to keep the other Thieves at arm's length was primarily due to the overwhelming guilt he doesn't think he'll ever shake. He didn't have the energy to think so far ahead as to whether or not they could be useful, anymore-- didn't have the energy to wonder about his own future, because he didn't feel like he had one. Like he deserved one.]

[But he doesn't hate when Akira touches him. Usually. Or he hates it less than he'd like to believe. Than he projected, up until his decision to admit he didn't hate it at all. Maybe that just applied to all of Akira. He still can't stomach the notion that he never hated him to begin with, but it seems like everyone else has already made that decision for him, so it's somewhat more pointless to keep attempting to prove it.]

[ Akira reaches out, gently, takes Akechi's hand in his in an easy gesture. It's like it costs Akira nothing, to be so easily tactile -- if anything, he's the opposite of Akechi; Akira thrives on the contact, wants it more than anything else, whereas Akechi wants to avoid it. He rubs his thumb across Akechi's palm, gently, then slowly settles backwards, partially curled to watch the laptop screen while being comfortably propped up on the wall. ]

How about this. If it's too much, then you can tell me to go study and I'll go downstairs for awhile. I know you don't want me to change my habits, but I think it'll help if you know you can have space when you need it.

[ And it'll also help Akira ignore the protests that Akechi doesn't actually mean, if there's a way for Akechi to communicate when he does mean it. ]

Which can go for touching as well as talking. [ Since the emotional heart to hearts are at least as invasive as the touching. ]

[He feels a little sick, again, stress pulling his features taut, but he curls his fingers into his palm around Akira's thumb, despite himself.]

You shouldn't be the one having to leave because I can't handle something.

It's just going downstairs. I'll practice my barista skills with Boss. [ Akira offers him a smile, because it's so easy for Akira to see -- to move around Akechi, to compensate for what he needs to and adjust the rest. He wants to do it, because he wants to imagine a life with Akechi--

Maybe that's ridiculous to think about, when he only confessed like, twelve hours ago. ]

It's not like you can go somewhere on your own right now, which... might be my fault?

[Akechi can barely imagine a life, much less one with anyone else, especially Akira. He closes his eyes again, nodding and kind of kneading his fingers against Akira's thumb.]

No, but... being left alone in your bedroom feels strange, as well.

Pretend we're roommates. It's partially your room right now. [ Akira absolutely knows Akechi will not do that, and furthermore doubts that the idea of sharing a room with people has any good memories for him -- but Akira really, truly, doesn't mind sharing with him. ]

[His expression sours and he turns to Akira with a grimace.] I have never had a roommate and don't intend to start now.

Why are you so stubborn about this? I could just as easily go downstairs.

I really feel like going downstairs to deal with a bunch of elderly people that are going to recognize you, and my guardian, who you're a little afraid of making angry, is the worse of the two options.

[ Akira's tone is... a little dry as he says it. Like, he's all for Akechi going downstairs, but he also thinks it wouldn't help Akechi in the whole "having some space" thing. ]

[He looks very bothered by this, shifting and eventually laying on his side facing Akira without really looking at him.]

...well when you put it like that.

Though, if you wear that and stick to a booth, you can probably hang out alone. [ Which is to say -- the great detective prince would never be caught dead in a drab hoodie like that, so he's got that going for him by wearing Akira's clothing. ]

[What Akechi may not realize himself is that Akira just... talking to him while he's chilling in bed with him is actually doing wonders to make the action seem more normal. It's distracting him from hyperfocusing on the fact that he's laying on Akira's bed, alongside him, because they're just talking nonsense.]

Your style of dress and mine are very starkly different, that is true.

[ Akira reaches up, takes his glasses off and slides them onto Akechi's face again. He looks -- ridiculous, but it's so endearing that Akira can't help but laugh. ]

You look a little like Sumire, now. No one would recognize you.

[He tenses, but doesn't quite flinch away, opening his eyes to frown at Akira for his absolute nonsensical garbage.]

I didn't pull this look off the first time you tried it, either. [But there is the barest hint of a smile on his face.]

I think it's cute. [ But this isn't exactly new news: he thinks Akechi is cute most of the time, but especially when he's exposing his gap moe. Idly, Akira wonders if he can call Akechi his boyfriend yet? Well, probably not to Akechi's face.

Akira would think that he's moving fast if he hadn't sat on his feelings for like, six solid months and through Akechi dying twice. ]

[He may have kissed you, Kurusu, but he is not prepared to label that yet.] Of course you do.

[Though he seems to figure out that Akira is Thinking Things, and frowns, curling his hand around Akira's thumb again and focusing on that.] ...it. Isn't fair of me, I think, to be so uncertain.

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