stealhearted | are you hurting the one you love?

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.

[ Akira is still off balance from being awoken in such an unorthodox way, so the combination of Akechi's scrabbling and the hand on his means that he over balances, tips forward and crashes into Akechi with too much of his weight. It knocks the air out of his lungs because he doesn't try to catch himself, doesn't have the mind to let go of Akechi. It's fine; it's easier to hold onto him like this, it's easier to keep him from killing himself running down the stairs when he's this frantic. ]

Goro, Goro, it's okay-- I'm not mad-- Both of us aren't fine, just-- breathe.

[He makes a sound, reaching out to bracket Akira's shoulders with both hands, stiffly trying to keep him upright without holding onto him anymore than is strictly necessary. He's shaking like a washing machine spin cycle, teeth gritted above where Akira has fallen, to the point they nearly chatter.]

Don't, just don't-- Please. [He steers him backward, pushes him to sit.]

Edited 2021-04-03 19:39 (UTC)

[ Akira considers his options, sorts through the merits of what he's about to do versus the damage it might do, and then decides that it doesn't fucking matter if either of them have breakdowns because they're clearly careening that way anyway and he might as well try to stop it the only way he knows how.

So he leans back, drags Akechi up by his forearms, and then hugs him. It's a tight grip, one that he intends to make strong enough that Akechi can't easily escape; he buries his face in Akechi's neck and exhales. At least one of them has to be coherent right now; at least one of them has to stop being so frantic and urgent and scared. It's fine if it's him. ]

Stop. You didn't mean to, so let's talk about this. I don't want you to leave.

No-- [He knows he can't pull away, but he tries to worm out of Akira's grasp anyway, squirming upward but not making much headway.] I'm not-- where would I go, I might get as far as the corner before I got yanked back. I'm chained to you, remember? And all I have to show for it is trying to fucking strangle you in your sleep-- [When Akira's grip is still steady, still tight enough he can't break free without trying too hard and hurting one or both of them, he gives up, going slack and folding over into his shoulder, still shaking.] I'm sorry-- I'm sorry.

I know. [ Akira loosens his grip to shift, slightly -- there's one hand at the back of Akechi's neck to hold onto him, and the other one rubs across his lower back, comforting, the motions slightly at odds with each other. ]

Were you having a nightmare?

Stop forgiving me so easily, [He grinds out, and where he's folded against Akira's shoulder becomes slowly damp, but outside of his shaking there's not much reaction. He shifts again, starting and stopping a few times in moving his arms until he curls them loosely around Akira's shoulders, sinking to sit in his lap with just enough of his weight that he's not completely holding himself up.] I don't-- probably. [He doesn't want to explain, doesn't want Akira to make it seem okay.]

It was an accident. I'm not blaming you for something you didn't mean to do. It's the same as stepping on my foot. [ Well, sort of, anyway. Akira takes in a breath, slow and steadying. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, he can say that yeah, his neck hurts, his voice is a little huskier than usual. He'll probably have a sore throat for a couple days. He might check in with Takemi about it. ]

We'll just -- have to work on it, so it doesn't keep happening.

Yeah, okay. [He doesn't sound even remotely convinced, or even... Present, really, just responding for the sake of making it clear he's listening. He hears him, he does. But he also hears the roughness to his voice, and he's scared to look at his neck. He knows it'll bruise, his hands were gripped pretty tight around it. So he just blinks every so often, ignoring the way his eyes are just leaking like faucets, and tries to stay level enough to not freak Akira out more.] I'm sorry to make you throw me. I'm just-- sorry, I can't... I know you're not mad, I don't understand why you're so calm, but I'm still sorry.

I'm not calm, exactly. [ Slowly, Akira reaches out for one of Akechi's hands, puts it on his wrist where he can feel the pounding of Akira's pulse. It's already slowed down a little, but it's still racing compared to normal, like he'd been running a marathon. ]

I threw you because I knew you'd want me to wake you up, because it wasn't something you wanted to be doing. I knew you didn't want to hurt me.

[He jolts when Akira takes his hand, but doesn't dissuade the action, curling his hand almost immediately around his wrist and closing his eyes, leaning his head against his shoulder to focus on his pulse a long handful of seconds. It... bothers him, that his heartbeat is so erratic but he's still acting calm, but it encourages him to take a handful of deep breaths to try and chill out a little, himself.]

...saying thank you for you throwing me into a wall feels more than strange, but. [He rubs his thumb along the inside of Akira's wrist, thinking. He doesn't want to, but he wonders if it would be helpful to explain. He shakes his head after a moment, more for his own thought process.] Let me... at least get you some water. Okay? [He tries to pull back and disengage from him again.]

You, too. [ Akira is slow this time, but he allows it: carefully stands back up, but seems reluctant to remove himself from Akechi entirely. If Akira is truthful, it was something in him that was terrified when Akechi tried to run. Akira knows he can't go far.

Akira also knows that Akechi would absolutely allow himself to disappear if he thought it was necessary. ]

I mean, if you weren't asleep, I'd be down with you choking me. [ He says it so casually despite the fact that it's not really a casual statement at all. ] I'd just want us both to be awake for it.

[He's right to be afraid, really. It absolutely crossed his mind-- he wondered, before Akira grabbed him, while he was trying to bolt for the stairs but couldn't get traction on the floor to move fast enough, what would happen if he ran until he hit the wall, if the wall was even still there. If he would just be able to run, now, and slowly fade out of existence in hiding somewhere. He's still wondering. If he can't get a hold on himself...]

[He's not afraid to remove himself from the situation if he can't improve.]

[He stands, stepping around Akira's knees and putting a few steps between them just on principle, and starts to turn toward the stairs to get him-- both of them, he guesses, in the interest of being amenable --some water when he pauses, only then registering what Akira said. He turns back around, frowning while he tries to make sense of the string of words Akira just said.] Both to be... aw--

..., [His expression slackens as understanding drenches him in something akin to Nickolodeon slime.] Akira.

For two seconds. Can you please take the situation seriously. Nothing about that was sexy-choking, you absolute disastrously horny teenage boy.

[His face is lit up scarlet as he turns on his heel for the stairs again, but at least he's dropped back into his own skin.]

It got you out of your head, though. [ Which was Akira's ulterior motive all along. He reaches out to snag one of Akechi's hands as they go, because he'd rather be linked even for the awkward trip down the stairs than let go right now, but he follows Akechi downstairs and doesn't break away until he steps over to get two glasses. ]

Though I guess you might want to be the one getting strangled. [ He says it sort of contemplatively as he turns the water on, like it's a new avenue of thought he hadn't fully considered.

He absolutely has, of course, because Akira is 100% sure that they both have a masochistic streak that goes as deep as Mementos, but he doesn't think Akechi's ready for that conversation. ]

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1/...at least 2

2/3

done,

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