stealhearted | are you hurting the one you love?

Oh, [He drops into a sit easily, leaning back on one hand and looking over the book for a moment before launching into a surprisingly comprehensive, yet understandable explanation of what he's looking at. It's... a bizarre amalgamation of what Akira would recognize as "real" Akechi and the Detective Prince, the latter of which mostly being the hand gestures.]

[He doesn't fully realize he hasn't completely kicked the habit of moving like he's constantly on camera when he's actually aware of someone watching.]

[ Akira just... watches, mildly bemused, and then nearly actually misses the explanation for it because of it. But he manages to get it at the last second, and then it's just a matter of whittling his understanding into the proper shape to actually pass his second year.

It doesn't take long, on the upside, thanks to the fact that he keeps getting some of the highest grades in his year.

When he's not in jail.

Eventually, he raises a hand and drops two fingers onto Akechi's wrist, idly. ]

When you're confident about something, you talk with your hands.

[He seems... more comfortable, somehow, talking about academics. His posture is more fluid, he doesn't seem to realize he's folded himself up onto the bed to look over the textbook, swatting Akira's hand for a moment and perusing it on his own.]

[So he goes very still when Akira touches him, blinks a few times and looks chastised, recoiling.] ...force of habit.

It's nice. [ Akira offers him a smile, easy and gentle. Akira does like it -- seeing Akechi confident, more in his element. It's not like Akira wants to see that manic confidence that lead to murder, but --

Well. He hopes Akechi can get his feet underneath him, understand that he's more than just a television personality. He's so smart, and Akira can see it in him, hear it in the way he explains things. ]

You're a good teacher.

[He still can't handle compliments he knows are honest, so he swings his legs back off the edge of the futon and grasps the edge of it, looking away from him.] ...they tell you when you're on television, the bigger the better. Bigger smiles, bigger gestures, louder voices. Fake it until you make it, and I took it so literally I can't even be sure I know how to not act so deplorably fake I may as well always wear a set mic.

[But he huffs, glancing over at Akira and his textbooks.] I should hope I remember enough about my second year to make sure you can graduate, given I'm what's preventing you from learning in the proper environment.

I don't think you're faking as much as you think you are. [ Sure, there's threads of it permeating in, but the confidence Akechi has seems pretty natural, given it tends to come up when he's not paying attention. ]

You weren't the reason I was in jail. Mostly. [ Missing school for a day or two because he's tied at the hip to Akechi is way better than jail, that's for sure. Akira spent most of it bored out of his mind in solitary. ]

Because you would know, [Arguing is always so much easier, even if he's tired of it. He knows, maybe, that Akira is right, that he's only faking as much as he doesn't already know, and for as much of his detective career was fake, his intelligence is still real. But it's still so much easier to fight him on it.]

[He rolls his eyes.] Mostly.

I'd know. I'm kind of a pro at faking. [ The smile he gives Akechi is absolutely his fake ass "I'm dealing with teachers and/or my probation officer" smile, the one he doesn't really use very much since most of the adults close to him actually already know and like him, like, as a human being.

Which is wild. ]

[He draws in a breath and huffs it out in a melodramatic sigh, straightening his posture and moving his hands to scrub over his face.] Yes, yes, mister mystery. Do you need any more help studying?

I'll let you know if I get stuck again. If I can promise not to fall behind, my teacher doesn't mind me missing a few days. [ Well. She minds, but she doesn't exactly protest, given his criminal background and how he's been helping her... ]

[He hunches forward and sets his hands on the edge of the futon again.]

...does Niijima being the student council president give you any leeway over me accompanying you so you can finish your classes? If we can ever... be farther than this distance. [God, he hopes.]

I was thinking of just claiming you're my probation enforcer. [ He's... not completely joking. ]

I'll talk to everyone about it tomorrow. I think we've been through enough for now. [ Like, they don't need to go for an even baker's dozen of breakdowns in under two days. ]

[He grimaces, giving him a pinched look.] ...it's not the worst lie I've ever heard, but I also abhor the notion of having to go to your school as the Detective Prince who just so happens to be enforcing your probation. I know Shujin has a lot of fans of my previous work...

[He shudders faintly, folding his legs back onto the futon and passing Akira a frown.] Are you still going to insist I sleep here?

It's not ideal, but... [ They'll figure it out. Akira hopes they won't have to resort to that, in part because his social life will get considerably worse, but... ]

If you don't want to, I won't make you, but I do think you're going to get too cold on the couch. [ A beat, and then -- ] My motives are 80% about your health and 20% ulterior.

[He seems more or less agreeable to the notions-- both of them, getting up and wandering to the couch to claim the blanket he's laid over the back of it. He's about to sit back down with it when Akira gives his percentage of ulterior motives, and he visibly recoils standing still.]

Define "ulterior".

[ Akira can't help but laugh. It's not that it's funny -- it's actually pretty sad, that Akechi jumps to the worst possible options -- but it's... Well. Sometimes it's all you can do. ]

The ulterior motive is I want to hug you. I know it's unforgivably criminal.

[It's so ridiculous he stands there for a moment wondering if he's heard him correctly. He-- he wants to hug him? That...]

[Drawing in a breath and shaking his head, he sighs as he throws the blanket onto the foot of the futon, rolling his eyes and spinning on the balls of his feet to drop back into sitting on the edge of it.] The sheer tactile nature of your everything never ceases to befuddle me.

I wasn't hugged enough as a child. [ Or like, at all. His parents took the more western approach to parenting, so there was very little co-sleeping going on and he doesn't remember a time when his parents were actually taking care of him the way he imagines other families might have.

He wonders if it would be worse, to have had someone like Akechi's mother or Futaba's mother and then have them ripped away, or if it's worse to just never know it at all.

Either way sucks, probably. ] And you probably haven't been hugged enough in the past decade.

[The careless way Akira says it strikes him, and he turns sharply to look at him at the first bit, only to look wildly uncomfortable at the second.]

...I suppose it goes without saying that your parents weren't a model example of care with how they sent you to Tokyo for a crime you didn't commit. [It's phrased carefully, his tone a little vague, but he goes from looking pointedly away with his head angled toward him to making uncertain eye contact, and his face becomes something resembling apologetic.] I don't like being touched, especially, so I don't... exactly mind my distinct lack of companionable koalas.

[ Akira's quiet for a moment as he chews over that. Were his parents bad? Not by the standards of all the other parents in his life, all his friends parents. All the living ones seem pretty terrible. His seem a little worse than Ann's, in the grand scheme of things.

In the end -- and it's a disservice to them both, and he knows it -- he just glosses over the comment, because he doesn't feel like getting into the subject of his parents yet.

He still feels guilty, he supposes. About not being the son they wanted. About thinking so poorly of them. ]

I don't really know if I like being touched or not, honestly. But I know I like touching you, so it works out the same.

[He makes a monotonous humming sound, realizing Akira is dodging the comment, but he's in no place to press. If he lets Akira evade, he has more passes to evade, himself. He surveys the futon a moment, Akira's placement and his books, and climbs up over his books to fold himself compactly against the wall at the head of the bed on the edge.]

...the wall will be colder, and you'll probably bump into it with me taking up space. [He is still trying to find an out.]

I've been told I give off enough body heat to power a small universe. [ That's not exactly what Ann said, but it's pretty close. He and Morgana are a miserable combination in the summer. ]

You can take whichever side you want. [ If Akira's on the outside or the inside, he'll really just roll into Akechi if he needs more space. ]

[He absolutely doesn't want to wake up boxed against the wall, so he claims the outer edge to give himself an easier escape route.]

That... seems a bit of an exaggeration, but I suppose I can believe it.

I... sleep kind of deep, so if you get too hot in the middle of the night, I probably won't wake up. [ Akira, also, will gently give Akechi an out, an option to bolt away if it becomes too much at the last minute.

Granted, he intends to cling to Akechi with all his most seductive cuddling power, which... he has never thought about until today. ]

[He intones a full sound of agreement, folding around his knees and pushing his hair behind one of his ears.]

I sleep very light, but we should be fine so long as you don't hold onto me.

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