are you hurting the one you love?

[stealhearted]

psst psst [clicks tongue for akechi, sets out curry as a treat]--

Comments

[forfeited]

You are such a smooth talker. Have you always been that way, or was that a side effect of the power trip of becoming Joker? [He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Akira's, trying to ignore the intimacy of the gesture in favor of focusing on what Akira says. He's allowed to have fun, it'll get easier. He wants, so much, to believe him. But the idea of it is still laughable.]

[stealhearted]

I think it was always this way. People liked me on the surface, back home. [ There's the unspoken undercurrent there -- that they happily believed the worst of him, that they dropped him the second he'd been charged with a violent crime, that they'd turned on him and worse -- but the truth is still there.

He'd been casually and effortlessly popular enough by virtue of being intelligent, attractive, and charming enough. ]

I did get better here. I work at a bar sometimes that definitely helped.

[forfeited]

[He's mostly still, opening his eyes and angling his head to try and look at him, but with their foreheads together all he sees is a blob of dark hair over pale skin and a blur of stormy grey for his eyes, so he leans back on his heels a bit.]

You're a minor, why do you work at a bar? You'll get in trouble.

[stealhearted]

I just barback. Lala-chan won't let me serve the alcohol. [ Akira has been very law-abiding, for the most part, in the real world... but only for the laws that are like, unimportant, like not serving liquor and never jaywalking.

Probably the flagrant thievery was worse, but what the cops can't prove won't hurt him. Mostly. Anymore. ]

[forfeited]

[His expression twists slightly into a grimace at "Lala-chan", because he's not entirely sure he wants to understand what sort of bar he was working at, with a superior named Lala-chan, and he opts to just make a noncommittal sound of agreement, staying leaned back on his heels.] It must be exhausting to do so many different things.

[stealhearted]

It just sort of happened. The flower shop helped me find someone that was assaulting people, the convenience store was for a catnapper, Crossroads was for meeting someone and finding out about a different Mementos target, the beef bowl shop helped me get involved in politics... [ The way he says it all, it sounds like it was just automatic for him to take on so much for such a small reward, even though no one else in the group had been expected to do so.

He doesn't mind, really. It kept him busy. ]

I learned a lot of useful things.

[forfeited]

[He has to take a small step backward for the sheer oddity of the stream of statements leaving Akira's mouth, and when he's done he just shakes his head and brings his free hand up to put it over Akira's mouth, frowning.] I think this is where I tell you to stop talking.

[stealhearted]

[ Akira just smiles behind Akechi's hand, but obediently stops talking. He does not, to his credit, do anything childish like lick Akechi's hand, but that's mostly because Akechi is wearing gloves and Akira's pretty sure he's only putting those in his mouth if it's in a sexy way, and--

Akira derails that line of thought very quickly. ]

[forfeited]

[Do you even know how to chill, sir. He reclaims his hand, but after a moment's thought pushes it into Akira's hair, looking him over while he deciphers the sensation.] ...we should probably head back, it's late.

[stealhearted]

[ Akira leans into it like a cat. If he could, he'd probably purr, but thankfully he doesn't quite have the vocal capabilities required. ]

Yeah. You wanna stop at the vending machine and grab a drink on the way back?

[forfeited]

[He hears the question, but the simple way Akira leans into his touch makes him act without thinking. He shuffles back forward, craning his neck so that when he moves his hand and pushes Akira's bangs out of the way he can put his lips just above an exposed eyebrow. Even if Akira weren't a strange little furnace of a boy, even if their circumstances weren't so odd, Akechi is pretty sure the gesture would sear the same warmth from his lips down his throat and spreading through him as though it were honey flooding his veins, and he exhales in a somewhat exhausted way, putting their foreheads together again with his hand still tangled in Akira's hair.]

[He's still there with his eyes closed for just enough seconds to be too long to pretend it didn't happen, so he leans back to give him a dull frown.] ...that's not a bad plan.

[stealhearted]

[ If Akira had a tail, it would be wagging pleasantly, but instead he just smiles fondly. Akechi's frowns do nothing to hurt him when he's receiving affection (or ever, really), so it doesn't make him any less pleased. ]

There's one near Leblanc. [ Since their hands are still joined, Akira gives it a little squeeze before he finally, a little unwillingly, steps away to pull him towards home. ]

I always have good plans, also. [ Only perfect ones, clearly. Infallible. ]

[forfeited]

[It's strange to think that their hands have been tangled together for nearly the entirety of this outing. It's stranger to think that he hasn't minded. He hums in agreement to the first statement, and then exhales in a rush of derisive laughter again at the second, grinning enough to show his teeth.]

I wouldn't say "always".

[stealhearted]

Flawless plans that are perfectly executed. [ Akira says, his tone a little lofty to show that he's teasing. Some of his plans definitely leave something to be desired, even if they've all, miraculously, gone off without any major hitches.

Except that time Makoto tried to 1v1 a mafia boss, that was questionable, but in his defense: that was Makoto's plan.

He starts back to Leblanc, at any rate -- it's late enough now that Akechi might notice they're taking a slightly different route, to stay off the main roads. He doesn't want anyone to notice and wonder why two teenagers are out so late. ]

[forfeited]

[He notices, but hardly minds-- he's not well-acquainted with Yongen-Jaya so it's nice to see the narrow roads along the path of a devious teenager who has snuck out with his anxiety friend. He just hums tunelessly in regard of flawless plans, trailing along after him and trying to allow himself to be okay with the calm, the happiness that is encroaching on his body. It's so simple and easy he's terrified of it, even moreso now that Akira has specifically verbalized he was allowed to have it.]

[Not that he needed Akira's permission, or anything.]

[stealhearted]

[ Akira thinks that this time of night is a sort of liminal space; there's only the stars and the light pollution lighting the sky, and the two of them with their hands tangled into each other. He thinks it might be easier for them both to imagine themselves happy and comfortable when it's just the two of them and the gentle sounds of the night.

It isn't long before they're back, and Akira stops at the vending machine. ]

What do you want?

[forfeited]

[He hums again, stepping up alongside him and leaning their shoulders together, largely trying to ignore the easy contact.] Something... fruity. [He's had mostly coffee and water, he wants something obscenely saccharine. He digs into his pocket with his free hand, claiming some of the money he'd pulled from his book-safe, and then turns to look sidelong at Akira.]

What are you getting?

[stealhearted]

Orange juice. [ It's a healthy option, given that Akira's blood is 80% caffeine by volume at this point. When he sees Akechi going for his money, Akira doesn't bother to grab his -- he's fairly certain Akechi would only shoo it away anyway, for the sake of not feeling so indebted. ]

[forfeited]

[He snorts at that, startled by the simple way he says it, by the almost childish innocence in the claim.] Orange juice. Are you a toddler? [But he feeds the bill into the machine and taps a bottle of orange juice, followed by a white peach soda after a moment's deliberation. He ducks to claim them, hooking his thumb and forefinger and ring and little finger around the caps of both bottles to extract them one-handed, and angles his wrist to face the orange juice toward Akira. He sets his bottle down to claim his change, pocketing it before claiming the bottle and standing again.]

[stealhearted]

Nah. Toddlers drink apple juice. [ Akira says it very matter of factly, accepting the juice and drinking it. Truthfully, he's just not big on carbonation late at night. He might be an elderly man in the skin of a youthful thief. Hard to say. ]

Don't tell Sojiro, he thinks I live off coffee.

[forfeited]

Do they now, [He offers, pinning his bottle to his side to unscrew the cap and drinking it. Ah yes, sweet, sweet sugary rot.]

[He snorts, luckily having now had a mouthful of carbonated drink at the time, screwing the cap back on and tugging Akira by his hand back toward the cafe.] I'll keep your sordid affair with orange juice secret.

[stealhearted]

Thanks. It'd be the highest betrayal. [ Akira isn't sure he's seen Sojiro drink a beverage that wasn't coffee, like. Ever. Not even once. Does Sojiro drink water? No one can say.

He follows back to the cafe, though, and when they get to the door he tucks the bottle of juice between his arm and side so he can unlock it without letting go of Akechi's hand. ]

[forfeited]

[He thinks, at this point, he's starting to get high on the contact. He's not used to much making him feel giddy, other than plans going how they ought to or like, brutally murdering a shadow because it irritated him, so he's not entirely sure what to do with the jittering excitement thrumming under his skin. He manages not to laugh, but only barely, and is stunned by the near-response enough that he brings his hand, soda grasped at the neck, to his mouth to hide the way the lower half of his face is pulled funny. He's not smiling, either-- not quite, but he can't figure out what his face is doing and it's an obviously positive thing, so he opts to just hide it.]

[Because, you know. Being happy was dangerous and terrifying.] Me telling him, or you not living on a constant IV drip of his coffee?

[stealhearted]

Both, probably. [ Akira waits until the door is closed and locked behind them and they're standing alone in the dark cafe. The light is on in the attic, and between that and the streetlight there's enough to see each other by -- just enough, dim and shadowed.

So he steps a little closer and looks at Akechi in the darkness. ]

Can I kiss you?

[forfeited]

[He doesn't shy away from Akira stepping into his space, but his eyes jump up to him at the question, catching the light and looking about as molten as they are alarmed. He keeps his hand where it is, because the giddy sensation of bubbles in his stomach is unrelenting and he still wants to fucking smile.]

[He hesitates, trying to keep his expression schooled, and winds up looking down and away from him again, back up, and away, three separate times trying to figure himself out before he steps forward himself, reaching past Akira to set his soda on the counter. Uncertainly, he breathes a very quiet "Yes," before he stands close enough that Akira is a blur of pale skin in dim lighting, wishing the fluttering sensation in his everything hadn't wholly taken any confidence he may have had to initiate the gesture himself.]