stealhearted | are you hurting the one you love?

[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. ]

[He snarls a bit, yanking his hand away when they get downstairs and standing a few paces into the cafe when Akira decides he's getting the water himself. He's-- well, he's focusing on being angry because it's easier, because he's scared and he's tired but the obvious reason this happened is because he let himself get too comfortable. He was having too good of a time. So he takes several very large steps back into the vitriolic state he existed in in January.]

You really can't take anything seriously, can you?

Go-- [ A pause. ] Akechi. [ Because he doesn't want to intrude too much, when Akechi is this volatile, this angry. He steps forward, sets the water glass down in front of Akechi and the other one on the counter -- side by side instead of anything else -- and then reaches out to snag his fingers across the fabric of the borrowed hoodie. ]

It's serious. I'm going to check out some books on trauma, tomorrow. On how to deal with things like this. Because I don't... know. [ Akira admits it very carefully, because no one ever seems to believe that he is genuinely winging his way through most times. ]

But neither of us are good at processing anything, and I don't think there's much we can do tonight, so I just--

[ Humor. Sex, which would be a really great outlet right now if Akechi could handle it, but Akira is pretty sure that'd be one of the worst ideas imaginable. ]

Oh fuck off, would you?! [He wrenches out of his grip again, taking another few steps backward.] Stop treating me like I'm fragile-- if I'm traumatized it's my own fault. If you're traumatized it's probably also my fault. I had a dream Shido was trying to overpower me because he figured out who I was before anything happened, and I woke up strangling you because of it! Don't tell me that making jokes is taking this seriously! [As he shouts, his voice gets shriller and shriller until he angles himself and drops to sit in one of the booths, slicing his hand through the air to keep Akira from reaching out to him again while the other threads back into his hair and pulls.]

Don't-- just. Don't touch me. I know, I have to be in contact with you or I'll fucking die. Just. Let me stay away from you for a while, for both of us. You can't save me if I fucking strangle you. [He's so stressed he's swearing nearly every sentence, that's a feat.]

[ Akira listens to this for a long moment, eyes a little wide, because that's not the reaction he was hoping for, and then, after a long moment, seems to settle some sort of internal feat. ]

I'm going to punch you again.

[He didn't expect that to be the conclusion Akira came to, so it takes him a second to process that he isn't still having to fight him off from his senseless babying and doting. He snaps his head up, and his face contorts a bit like he swallowed a bug, or his stomach hurts or something, but then he stands back up, throwing his arms out to the side and absolutely screaming at him.]

Do it, then!

[ Akira does, because once he comes to a conclusion good luck getting him to stop. He doesn't go for the face, this time -- it's too hard to hide, and he doesn't think either of them want to deal with the kind of concern that would come from the rest of the Phantom Thieves thinking Akira was punching Akechi regularly (even if he is) -- he just steps forward, quick as if he was fighting a shadow, and socks Akechi square in the gut.

It's definitely satisfying. ]

[He's glad for it. He's so glad that Akira still has the capacity to hit him, that he hasn't gone too soft in his apparent love for him, the notion sort of scares him. He wants to piss him off, wants Akira to hit him, and not in the weird sexy choking way Akira apparently thinks about regularly enough to use it as a defensive joke to try and diffuse their tension. Naturally, his body sort of crumples inward at the impact, and he grabs Akira's shoulder to keep from dropping to the floor, gritting his teeth. He coughs a few times, and then shoves at him by the shoulder, staggering backward yet again.]

Good. At least you're taking that seriously. [He curls one arm around his stomach, this time grabbing the back of one of the bar chairs and pulling it out to drop sideways into it. And then he's just quiet.]

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1/...at least 2

2/3

done,

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