stealhearted | are you hurting the one you love?

Well, then you'll be happy to know I haven't been happy in a very long time. [Save for in these moments, which is so absolutely existentially terrifying he can't even make the claim.]

[He does lean into him just enough to feel like a friendly bump, not-quite smiling.] I appreciate it. If it had been anyone else, I... don't think I'd have trusted them to actually go through with it. It was... admittedly very uncomfortable, especially at the time, to consider I'd been brought back at part of a "life without pain" for you. I'm glad that I trusted the right person to understand I didn't want my choices made for me anymore.

[He's quiet, and then looks up at him.] But I never really asked how it affected you.

[ Akira is quiet for a long moment. In truth, he'd avoided thinking about it, because immediately after he turned around and saw Akechi gone he'd blinked and was in a jail cell trying to pretend he'd been there and known the rules the whole time. He'd felt like something had ripped out half of the organs in his chest, and he'd had a lot of time to think about it, given that he wasn't allowed to mix with the general population. ]

I wondered if I'd made a mistake. It wasn't... that I wanted a life without pain. But I didn't realize how bad it would be, to see you alive again and then lose you a second time. [ When Akira still hadn't confessed. He doesn't regret that, exactly, didn't want to make it harder for Akechi to choose to die, didn't want to make it hurt more, but. ]

It was getting easier, by the time you showed back up.

You'll have to forgive my impeccable timing, then. [This time he does smile, just briefly, stretching again and then immediately slouching to fit better against his side. It's... strange, how well he fits there. Baffling.]

Apologizing at this stage would be insulting to us both, I think, so I won't... However, I hope that with as insistent as you are on tolerating me being in a near-constant disastrous state, you would request of me what I could do to make it easier. It's only fair.

You being here makes it easier. [ Akira gives him a smile that's a little less broad than usual -- a little shyer. A little more genuine. A little more uncertain. It's more Akira than a lot of them are, without being tempered by the person he becomes around other people, trying to compensate for whatever they need. ]

I got to tell you how I felt. It was... I didn't think I'd ever get to do it. [ It meant a lot to him. The fact that it was even remotely reciprocated -- he didn't think that would ever happen. He still waits for Akechi to dissolve under his touch, sometimes, to vanish out of the corner of his eye if he turns away.

It's hard. ]

Everyone else is -- planning to leave. They've got a lot of goals they want to accomplish. So... I'm glad you're here. [ Staying, even if it isn't entirely willingly. ]

[The timidness of the smile startles him, and his expression slackens. He's never really thought that he wasn't seeing Akira for who he really was, even knowing how many masks he wore. They both did-- they probably weren't wholly sure they knew what their true and honest faces were, anymore. Akechi was realizing it was harder to be fake around Akira-- had been around Sumire, too.]

[His stomach twists up a little at that. She's the only one he hasn't really spoken with, since this all happened.]

[But if he had a harder time faking around Akira... It stood to reason that Akira had a harder time faking around him, too. Which was a whole new level of terrifying, given what he'd admitted to. Given what he was quoting now, as something that soothed the struggles he rarely allowed himself to acknowledge.]

[Knowing the circumstances to be what they are, Akechi wonders, too, if he would dissolve under his touch, or vanish out of the corner of Akira's eye if he looked away. He felt like he certainly would, sometimes.]

[He cranes his neck, stretching his spine upward just enough to put his lips to the corner of Akira's, hesitantly.] Good thing I'm quite literally stuck here with you for an undetermined amount of time, then, hm?

[ Akira allows the kiss, and then presses one back, as careful and chaste as Akechi's. He lets his eyes slip shut for a moment as he inhales, trying to put everything about this moment into his memory. He can't shake the fear that it'll be temporary -- that he won't get more of these moments. He has to memorize everything; the feel of Akechi slotted against him, the smell of Akechi's hair with generic shampoo instead of his normal, the warmth of his lips, the sound of his breathing. Akira wishes he was an artist like Yusuke, so he could put even a fraction of this down on paper, make a record of it stronger than just his memory. ]

When it's over... I hope you stay because you want to. [ He says it quietly, and almost without thinking; it's a little too raw, a little too much for either of them, and his eyes flicker back open as he watches Akechi's reaction, almost -- scared? ]

[He stays close, enjoying the simple affection that doesn't quiet overwhelm him. It's... nice. It makes a strange sort of warmth pool in the pit of his stomach, fonder than he's used to, a little... deeper, he thinks, than he's used to. He doesn't kiss him again, just lingering close enough that their breath mingles, so there's no way he mishears him when he whispers.]

[He stills, digesting the statement with a slight tilt of his head that is almost too slow to notice, and then raises his eyes to Akira's, his mouth falling open just barely. He shuts it again, and his ears bloom scarlet and he looks away, the red spreading rapidly inward until his whole face and down under the hooded collar of his borrowed sweater.]

...I. [He opens his mouth again, and shakes his head.] I'm-- afraid. To want to. [While they're being honest, he may as well roll with it.]

Because I might decide you're not worth it? [ Akira asks it, quietly, reaching up to stroke across the line of Akechi's bangs even when he looks away. Akira's voice is gentle, careful; he doesn't want to overpry, thinks they're both too tired for another aborted emotional meltdown, but...

He wants to know. He doesn't think he can fix it, exactly, but sometimes giving things words and weight can be enough to stop them from rattling inside your head. They sound much more stupid spoken aloud. ] Or because you're not used to wanting things you can have?

Both? [He answers before he can stop himself, and curls back into him, burying his face against the side of Akira's neck.] It's... not like I'm particularly adept at wanting things that are easily obtained.

[He's shallowed out his breathing again, but not... terribly. Not enough that it's bad, just in a way that makes him not breath heavily, this close.] You're difficult to ignore, so naturally this is all your fault.

I'll take the blame for that. I'm worried you'll get bored of me, so we can both be worried together. [ Akira doesn't know how long it'll take before either of them can believe that the other is there to stay. Years, probably. He wants there to be a day when, in the future, they can take each other for granted; when they don't have to worry that every day might be their last.

He believes in that kind of a future, even if it's terrifying.

And then, more lightheartedly: ]

I used to read your interviews in those teen magazines where they asked you about your 'ideal woman'.

[He just breathes against him, for a moment, wondering how on earth someone could grow bored of someone like Akira, but he supposes he sees him in a different light, similar to how Akira sees Akechi himself in a different light. The more he realizes how hopelessly into him he is, the tighter the knot in his stomach becomes.]

[And then it diffuses all at once and he ducks against his chest, laughing sharply and then continuing, because it's just such a ridiculous statement.] God, why would you-- of course you did. Of course. I was lying-- even then I knew I wasn't interested in women, but you can't tell the media you're gay when you have a following.

I knew you were gay, but I thought maybe I'd figure out your ideal partner, but you always just said it was someone intelligent who didn't mind you working long hours. Which I technically meet. [ Akira wasn't really comparing himself to the fictional standards that he knew were fake, even back then, but he'd still done it, looked through the interviews to see if maybe Akechi had a crush on him and would describe it, even though Akira knew that was absolutely ridiculous even at the time.

Teenaged crushes were, Akira was pretty sure, the things that made you absolutely irrational. ]

You'd have a very different following if they knew.

I had to keep it vague, keep that air of mystery. Were you really paying that much attention to me that you read interviews? That's terrible. [He scrunches his nose, both at Akira and at the thought of a different following that knew his orientation, and shakes his head.] The country isn't progressive enough to have a famous young detective publically out as a homosexual, I had enough trouble with the press disrespecting my privacy.

I heard there was a previous scandal with the first detective prince, so I imagine you were trying to avoid that a second time. [ Akira had been too young to pay too much attention to the going ons back then, but even then, Akechi was the second coming of the detective prince for a reason. ]

I thought it was obvious, but I might have just been good at reading you. Ann said no man that sculpts their eyebrows is straight, though.

[He laughs softly, shaking his head and leaning against him.] You know that blue sweater vest I wear? It's a nod to Shirogane-san.

[Another laugh-- wow, he sure is doing a lot of that.] Ann can shush, she knows you have to look good to be on television. ...she's also not wrong, but excuse me.

Hmm. I think you wear it better. [ Akira has never seen a photo of Naoto Shirogane in a sweatervest in his entire life. ]

I don't know anything about being on television, but I think your eyebrows are cute.

[He blusters, squirming down into a slouch and grumbling softly.] How many times must I tell you that flattery will get you nowhere. [Which is to say, it's getting him everywhere. The baffling little somersault his stomach does when Akira compliments him is-- foreign. It's frightening. But he also sort of likes it. Make up your mind, child.]

Maybe I just like giving it. [ Which is true, but also: Akira can tell it's getting somewhere, given that Akechi blushes but has stopped trying to insist that he isn't cute. He just tells Akira he doesn't care about it, or that it won't get him anywhere.

Which is basically Akechi admitting that (Akira thinks) he's cute. At any rate, Akira leans in to press a kiss to Akechi's hair. He knows better than to mess up someone's moisturizer, at least. ]

But we can sleep. You're probably exhausted.

[He's not sure what's gotten into him today.]

[Because almost instantaneously when Akira leans forward and presses his lips to his hair, Akechi knocks his head back and bows his spine outward, catching his lips instead, letting a hand belatedly find the front of his shirt to grasp onto. He lingers a moment, drawing away and darting forward again before he pulls away entirely, crawling out of their funky little pile at the foot of the bed to claim his space at the edge of the mattress again.]

[It likely does absolutely nothing for the obvious nature of how still-red he is.]

[ It actually surprises Akira, which is saying something. But he likes it, of course, relaxes into it for the few seconds that it's occurring. When Akechi pulls away, Akira is faintly pink, with the stupid smile of someone absolutely enamored on his face and seemingly no desire to try and wipe it away.

He turns the light off and then settles back down next to Akechi. ]

Goodnight. [ He doesn't offer anything like "I love you" yet; he's confessed it once but saying it so casually is a level he doesn't think they're anywhere near, yet. ]

[Akechi lays completely and utterly still for what feels like ages, heart thudding so loudly in his chest he's sure all of Yongen-Jaya can hear it, but Akira just turns out the light and settles up behind him, uttering a soft "Goodnight". Goro is pretty sure he doesn't breathe for a while, until he draws in a silent breath, holds it, and exhales counting backward from ten, letting his body relax as he goes.]

...goodnight, [He says finally, on about a two-minute delay.]

[And he sleeps! It doesn't take long for the exhaustion of the day that Akira rightly called him out on to catch up to him and drag him under, the wild-haired boy behind him radiating just enough heat to be comfortable under the blanket despite them not touching. He'd held his hand nearly the entire goddamn night, he didn't need to cuddle up to him tonight, surely.]

[Surprisingly, or maybe not so much, Goro didn't often dream in a way that he remembered. He would sometimes dream positively-- old memories of his mother, scenery he remembered from riding his bike, the rush of power from awakening to his Persona in the Metaverse. But most often, if anything played across the backs of his eyelids while he slept, it was ugly and frightening, and all too often still a memory. Tonight wasn't a memory, but it certainly felt like one, a horrible what-if under the idea of Shido finding out who he was before Akechi was ready for it (and, being that that was true, the difference here was that Shido chose to act on it rather than play dumb). Akechi had gotten himself cornered in his office, Shido making acidic comments about the illegitimate weakling who tried to prove himself in all the wrong ways.]

[Akira being as deep of a sleeper as he was was about to become a huge disadvantage, because Akechi goes from a very brief series of soft, disquieted sounds to an alarmed howl, and he shifts in his sleep to bump into Akira, but doesn't wake up enough to understand who he's bumped. In his head, he's thrown his weight into his father to knock him backward against his desk, and his hands in the loft close around Akira's neck when his eyes, open but unseeing, are looking at Masayoshi Shido.]

[ Akira's a deep sleeper, but he's still not quite used to another body next to him. The movement doesn't strike him as odd at first, until even in his sleeping mind he seems to process that it's too large to be Morgana, that it's the weight of someone else next to him--

And then Akechi is on him and strangling him, hands wrapped around his throat hard enough that Akira can feel his own pulse pounding. Akira opens his mouth to try and yell, but he doesn't have enough air for that; he manages a weird, guttural noise before he reaches out.

He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't waste time trying to pry Akechi's hands off when he knows Akechi's grip is stronger than this, with this position. He doesn't know if hitting him will work or just make it seem even more like Akira is an enemy that Akechi needs to be defeating, so Akira just pushes up, pushes his fingertips against Akechi's cheek and strokes up softly until he can tangle his fingers into Akechi's hair just enough to pull, trying to throw Akechi off balance into the wall against the bed. ]

[The hand against his cheek startles him enough that he sucks in a sharp breath-- why would Shido do that? --and something about the brief moment of Akira's fingers threading into his hair until he grabs is enough to snap him awake. He doesn't have time to understand, just blinks glazed eyes open to a split second of him bearing his weight into Akira's throat by his hands. He doesn't have time to loosen his grip, because Akira is quick enough on his proverbial feet that he yanks on his hair to throw him off-balance, and it works.]

[Thank God, really.]

[He barely registers the brief shock of pain to his scalp as the world tilts and he is shoved sideways into the wall, and he crumples on instinct but immediately rolls his arms inward to push off the mattress and move away. The fear flashing across his expression in the meager light filtering in from outside isn't of Akira, but for him, as he pushes himself hard enough backward and scrabbles until he drops off the corner of the mattress. His hand meeting nothing but air for a moment until he pitches backward earns a startled cry preceding a thump as he collapses in a heap at the foot of the bed, but he doesn't have time for that. He keeps moving, or tries, rearranging himself and clawing at the floor until he can find purchase and try to get his legs under him to run.]

[ Akira pushes himself up onto his arms, watching the way Goro scrambles,and it takes him a few precious second to reorient himself, to manage to shake off the rest of sleep. He touches his throat, finds it tender but fully capable of drawing breath, and then immediately propels him over the side of the bed, reaching out. ]

Goro -- Goro, you're okay -- [ It doesn't occur to Akira yet that it isn't himself Goro is worried about; it's Akira. Akira's not used to having people worry over him like that, and even less so when he feels he is Demonstrably Fine (tm).

But Goro is running, or trying to, and probably the only saving grace is that he's too uncoordinated to manage it very well in the darkness, so Akira manages to reach out and get a solid fist of the hoodie. ]

-- Hold on --

[He's barely even to his feet when Akira grabs hold of the hoodie, and the resistance makes him twist and try to pull out of it, but he's wobbly. He's not firing on all cylinders by any means, and he can't quite figure out how to talk around the solid lump of fear lodged in his throat, so he just pushes at Akira's hand like it might do something to dislodge it. His feet are still scrabbling against the floor, body angled to try and lean as far from him as he can manage. There's a dim, tiny amount of relief in hearing Akira speak, and that he wasn't struggling to breathe, but it's minimal.]

[His voice is stretched thin with-- a lot of things, actually, tight and high in the back of his throat.] I'm-- fine, let go, you're less fine.

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you think the p3/p4 cast watched the p5 blood rain and just. did shots

honestly, i know i would

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