stealhearted | are you hurting the one you love?

[Akechi doesn't take it poorly-- in fact he breathes out a slight sigh of relief about it. Tired as he is, he's not sure he's up for trying to present himself in a way he feels is worthy of being in the presence of Okumura Haru. One day, he won't feel like he has to be any given way around her, but that will take much longer than with the others.]

[He frowns, thoughtfully.] Do you think he'd mind? [He doesn't really know what to do with Morgana, who has always been startlingly caring and friendly toward him, despite obvious mistrust. He'd been the reason he'd been found out in the first place, but Akechi couldn't bring himself to resent the creature. Possibly, he reasoned, because he was a cat. He rather liked cats, if he were honest.]

Not really. He's pretty easy-going, honestly, so long as you don't call him a cat. [ Morgana had been one of the ones firmly on the side of "save Akechi even if he might be an asshole"-- partly because, Akira thinks, Morgana's own past and origins had been such a mystery for so long. In the end, Morgana hadn't ever been anything but Morgana, but he thinks it might still be easier to empathize with Akechi than it is for the others to do the same.

It's harrowing, trying to change how you are and the way you see yourself. ]

He used to sleep in my desk at school everyday, so he'll probably just chat and nap.

[Akechi stares into his coffee cup, swirling the remaining liquid around idly like one might spin wine, smiling ever so slightly.] I would appreciate the company, I think.

[Because he... understands the risks. It's smarter for him to be chaperoned, and it's much less oppressive to his sense of independence to bring along-- well. Not a cat. But Morgana was a little different, besides.] ...I suppose I'll have to borrow a bag of yours to carry him in, then. I don't think Sae-san would appreciate me using her gym bag.

You can take my schoolbag. He's broken it in. [ There's permanently Morgana fur in it and he's pretty sure it's become slightly misshapen, but no one seems to mind. Between the girl who sits behind him in class and Kawakami, he's pretty sure several people have noticed Morgana and everyone is keeping it a secret.

Akira is glad that Akechi is allowing himself to be in good company more often. Or company in general. ]

Or just stick him in the laundry bag. [ Do not do this. ]

[He nods, swallowing the rest of his coffee and then putting the cup down a little harder than is strictly necessary at the notion of putting Morgana in the laundry bag.]

That could probably be considered animal cruelty, you know.

[ One day, Akira will tell Akechi about the button mashing incident. Instead, he just laughs. ]

It's fine. Morgana's pointy at five ends, so anything he doesn't want to do he'll let you know. [ Vocally, likely; Morgana's not big on scratching people, though Akira wouldn't put him above peeing on someone's shoes if they'd truly wronged him.

Akira glances over, sees Sojiro completely immersed in dishes with his back to them, and presses a quick, discreet kiss to Akechi's cheek as he swipes both empty mugs to go wash them. ]

Go get ready and we can go to the shop before it's busy.

[He will quietly encourage Morgana to vomit in your shoes, sir.]

[He laughs shortly, because "pointy at five ends" sure is a way to explain the dangers of a cat. He has no chance to say anything before Akira is kissing his cheek and spiriting away with their mugs, and he sort of short-circuits, bristling and puffing his shoulders outward.] Don't-- you'd think you'd hesitate to do that. [But it's... not reassuring, so much as it makes the ice cubes from before act up in his stomach just from sheer disbelief. Akira Kurusu was certainly some kind of force to be reckoned with.]

[He's very deliberate in keeping pressure against the growing bruise at the base of his ribs as he moves out of the booth and breezes toward the stairs. He pauses, grimacing and opening the bathroom door to give himself a once-over. Yeah, he looks like Absolute Shit. Good lord. He wanders back out and upstairs, changing first before heading back downstairs with his bag of toiletries from Sae, his hair brush, and his tooth brush. He doesn't actually take especially long to make himself presentable, and pops his stick of concealer into the corner of the bag of toiletries from Sae.]

...Kurusu, [He peers around the corner, not wanting to pull Akira from something important, but curious to see just how horribly mismatched his concealer is for him.]

[ Akira hasn't donned an apron because Sojiro is ushering him away from helping too much -- Sojiro isn't fussing so much as acknowledging there isn't a whole lot left to do in the subject opening, so Akira is just sitting obediently and eating his breakfast curry when Akechi leaves, comes back, and leans out the door. ]

Mm? [ Akira gets up, because it doesn't seem like the kind of thing that Akechi is going to say across the room, in part because Akechi is never the kind of person to yell across rooms especially when other people are present. ]

[That works just as well, he figures-- he reaches out when Akira gets to him and takes his wrist, concealer magically in his other hand, and swipes a bit of it there, blending it with his thumb. As previously assessed, it absolutely doesn't match, and he snorts.] Putting this on your neck would just make it more obvious. Let me know whenever you're ready, I'll go put this upstairs.

[He moves away again, pausing.] Oh, your bag, for Morgana.

[ Akira leans in to the bathroom to look in the mirror, and then promptly also snorts. He could probably find a worse match, if he tried, but Akira's skin is an entirely different undertone and a few shades off. Pretty hopeless. Akira swipes it off with a kleenex. ]

I'll grab a scarf. You want to eat anything first? [ Which is less "want to" and more "if I put food in front of you will you eat at least a fourth of it while pushing the rest around hopelessly on your plate", but Akira acknowledges that lack of sleep may well have soured both their stomachs. ]

[He stops on the first step and kind of grimaces, but he understands what Akira is asking and not saying.] ...do you still have carrots from the other day? I can just... take them with us. [It's bad form to eat while walking, so it'll be more of they'll hang out in the bag with Morgana and he can crunch on them if he feels like it while working on laundry? But at least he's making some degree of effort.]

Mmm. I'm gonna take you out to lunch. [ Which is to say that Akechi doesn't need to worry about forcing himself to survive off carrots if he's only eating to placate Akira. Akira is forming some plans (tm) for their second date knowing full well that Akechi probably does not view last night as a first date, particularly given it lead to a strangling episode, but is that not all the more reason to prove Akira likes him?

So anyway, lunch.

That said, Akira disappears upstairs to grab a light scarf. He looks extremely homosexual and a little like someone's elderly father, but he also kind of rocks it? He looks like he might have a yacht. He looks like he might have had a stolen yacht. ]

Okay. Let's go.

[Akechi follows him upstairs with a pinched expression, putting his bag of toiletries down and picking up the laundry he folded into the bag at some point, hesitating.] ...should I... We can drop this off and come back for it? Is Yongen quiet enough for that... Do you trust your neighbors? [He doesn't know how to function with the idea of trusting neighbors, actually.]

[Akira claims the scarf and Akechi's jaw snaps shut, because looking like a young-faced old man who has probably stolen a yacht is definitely a look for Akira, and he can't say he hates it.] You don't have to take me to lunch...

I want to take you out for lunch. I know going to the trendy spots was just for your food blog, but there's some nice family places around here. [ Akira wouldn't take Akechi to any of the hip and happening spots that he used to be at -- in part because Akira doesn't want Akechi to get recognized -- but he wants to take him out. ]

We can leave the laundry here. We'll grab Morgana after you do your makeup magic on me. [ Because if Futaba sees him now, not only will she call him gay but she'll definitely steal the scarf. ]

[He huffs out a sigh, folding his hands together and wringing them a moment until he slides his hands into the pockets of Akira's hoodie to mask putting pressure on the bruise on his stomach, again. He's... definitely gonna be extremely fixated on it until it doesn't hurt to press the skin there anymore.] ...right.

[ Akira watches for a moment, catching sight of the movement. He leans in, hesitating before he kisses Akechi again and instead just reaching out to reposition his bangs a little. ]

My hope is this means the next time I'm covering something on my neck it'll be from something way more fun. [ He drops that, waits just long enough to see Akechi process it, and then exits stage left. ]

[He's too tired to not be visibly upset, just in general, but allows the fussing with his hair without protest. With the way his brain is absolutely addled without sleep, he just frowns at the way Akira yeets his way to the stairs, taking an extra few seconds to process the statement, to the point he had taken roughly a step and a half after him without understanding.]

[And then he's stomping after him.] You are shameless, what'll you do if it never comes to that?

[ Akira is the picture of innocence when he offers: ] Then I'll leave marks on your neck. [ Which isn't as innocent as it sounds, both because he's pretty sure he'd strangle Akechi if Akechi asked and also because he already has a weird, possessive sort of thrum everytime he sees the bruise on Akechi's cheek. He doesn't even want to know what the bruise on his stomach looks like (he does) because it's already taking his power not to press on it until Akechi lets out one of those ragged, wet gasps, until he's leaning into it instead of away and--

Wow, it's sure bright outside! ]

Oh, maybe it's getting warmer out.

[Akechi doesn't even stop in his irritated pursuing of Akira to say hello again to Sojiro, or goodbye as he follows right on his heels, scowling.]

[If he had any idea what Akira was thinking, he'd probably not step right into his personal bubble, nearly on his feet, snapping his jaw shut at the end of his statement.] I'd dare you, but you might just do it on the street, and we all know you're trying to keep the visage of a good upstanding citizen, here.

[ Hey, Akechi, have you ever experienced the phenomenon known as "kabedon"? Because Akira is going to whirl around, very deliberately -- maybe a little theatrically -- and then crowd Akechi back against the brick next to Leblanc, letting his hand hit the wall. It's not so much a "don" as it is an intense pressure, and he doesn't make any effort into toning it down.

Akira realizes he forgot his glasses again. Huh. ]

If you want me to, you just have to ask. [ There's a deep ferocity that's kept hidden, most days, behind his glasses and his uniform and the assumptions that people usually make about him, but this Akira is the one that wanted to ruin Akechi; this Akira is the one that wants to be ruined. ]

I thought I'd made it clear that I was always interested. [ He's the one waiting on Akechi -- and he doesn't mind that, doesn't mind it at all, really, but Akechi can't then turn around and pretend like Akira is waiting for any other reason.

He'd splay them both out on the futon so loudly it didn't matter if Leblanc was closed or not for how much volume he'd want Akechi to get, if it was up to him. ]

[He absolutely Has Not, so when Akira pivots and doesn't so much pin him to the wall as leans against it with him between himself and the brick, Akechi can't quite keep himself from the startled gasp and the way he tries to backpedal to the point where his back is pressed flat to the bricks behind him. It doesn't get any better, either, when Akira practically smolders at him like a flame, but he does well enough to keep his shoulders squared rather than wilt at the attention.]

[He keeps his gaze, and even if for a split second he looks frightened in a way that is absolutely thrilled he just quirks an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest neatly.] Unlike some people, I was focused on tasks at hand that didn't involve "doing" the people I was cohorting with.

[But then he does duck away, though it's more of a (surprisingly graceful, considering his lack of sleep) sidestep that has him fold partially horizontal at the hips before, arms still crossed, he stamps his way down the side street toward the convenience store they went to for his concealer.] Come on, didn't you say you wanted to get this done before the shops were busy? You must be embarrassed by how stupid you look in that scarf, after all. [He's speaking a little louder and a little ruder than is strictly necessary, mostly to hide the aggressive scarlet flush that creeps up his neck at Akira's sudden and very pointed advance.]

[If Akira had been making it clear he was interested, Akechi hadn't noticed until very recently. He supposed he always took Akira's behavior with a grain of salt-- he was always lying, himself, so it suited to assume everyone else was doing the same. But thinking back on it, Akira... had always been a bit of a flirt, hadn't he? A slight tremor pulls his shoulders taut at the idea.]

The only one I was focused on was you. [ Well -- in the way that they're discussing, at any rate. He's had sex, he's fucked around, and before the first time he met Akechi maybe he thought about finding someone cute in Tokyo to settle down with who wouldn't believe the rumors about him.

Which was sort of accurate, save that he thought he'd find someone considerably more domestic and -- now that he's used to Akechi -- boring. Akira reaches up, pulls just light enough at the scarf that one of the bruises can be made out. With everything else, it looks like it really could just be a hickey from an overly enthusiastic lover. ]

I'm not embarrassed of any of the marks you've given me. Don't mistake discretion for your sake for anything else. [ Akira is heated, but not because he's angry -- he's heated because he wants to convey it to Akechi, to drill it in as best he can that he wants him. He's kind to Akechi, he fusses over Akechi, and he absolutely wants to bend Akechi in half and fuck him until he begs, and he doesn't feel like any of these thoughts are incongruous with the others.

Akira reaches out again, hovers a hand at Akechi's stomach, the pressure just light enough to be felt through the hoodie. ]

You just have to ask. [ Which is a promise, of sorts. He'd warned Akechi that he would punch him last time and Akechi had egged him on, and so he'd done it; he thinks that kind of thing must be hard for Akechi, must be hard to talk about, to want.

But god, Akira wants Akechi to want it, wants Akechi to understand even a fraction of what Akira feels all the time.

He pushes away, regardless, his hand lingering a little too hard on Akechi's stomach. ]

You're right, though. We should beat the morning rush.

[Fuck you very much, Akira Kurusu.]

[Or, moreover, get fucked but have fun waiting, because the pressure to his stomach by Akira's hand, however light, draws another startled gasp out of him that as pressure is applied and maintained has him pinching inward, a faint but absolutely visible twist to his features that is hardly entirely pained, from the way a sound ekes out of his throat like smoke from a cigarette not stamped out completely. He sets his jaw before he slinks out from under him, biting his lower lip when he's turned away from Akira and trying to figure out what the fuck the squirming behind the bruise and lower means, specifically.]

[He has a pretty good idea, overall, but he absolutely does not want to entertain the thought.] You'd enjoy me asking too much.

[ The gasp -- the way Akechi squirms just enough, stomach fluttering underneath Akira's touch -- goes straight to Akira's dick, and so he takes a second to breathe, to tense the muscles in his thighs until there's no tell tale signs of anything untoward about him at all.

But fuck is he going to spend time in the bathroom when it's finally nighttime; he doesn't think he's been this pent up in years. ]

It's supposed to be enjoyable for both of us.

It's presumptuous of you to even assume I would want to establish that sort of relationship with you, [He says it clinically, but with an absolute edge of venom, because he's embarrassed so it's easiest to lash out to hide that.] And even moreso when I've only been back in your life for three days.

[But he can't deny or ignore the way the imprint of Akira's hand against the bruise on his stomach burns pleasantly.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

uses this icon to be salacious

no subject

no subject