stealhearted | are you hurting the one you love?

[Akira's agreement pulls tension Akechi didn't realize he was holding in his shoulders out of them, and he leans backward, pulling Akira with him until they're laying sideways on the futon.]

I'm not good at this, [He states, warningly.] But it-- [He cuts off, frowning, sliding his arm under Akira's shoulders and throwing his other arm over them, resting his chin on his collarbone.] ...it would bother me, if you walked away.

[ Akira goes with Akechi. He's still tense -- his shoulders are still tight; his posture is a relaxed imitation of Joker's, but every muscle strains to hold it, to keep his back from curling, to keep himself from trying to turn in on himself. With Akechi's touch, he loosens a little, slipping more easily into the futon and reaching up to drag his fingers up Akechi's spine. ]

I'm not any good at walking away from you.

[Akechi, in turn, curls inward toward him, not sure if he's tickled by or just enjoys Akira's fingers climbing up his spine. He draws in a breath, exhales slowly, and lays his head sideways to rest his cheek on his collarbone.]

Relax, you idiot. You'll wear yourself out doing nothing.

[ Akira is quiet for a long moment at that, and he carefully steadies his breathing. His fingers move very rhythmically along Akechi's spine, drifting over each curve, and it seems almost like it's grounding him more than anything else. ]

I haven't... talked about what happened. Back then. With anyone. [ A beat, and then: ]

I think, because I lived, everyone thought... that was all that mattered. We won, so everything was fine.

[If Akechi could purr, he would consider doing so, both for Akira's benefit and because his fingers start to feel very nice the longer he does that rhythmic stroking thing.]

...I don't figure my immediate assault on your everything helped much.

[ Akira hums, quietly. ]

I forgot about you, for awhile. They had this... injection. I couldn't really remember anything. I knew I was forgetting something important, but I barely remembered my name for a little while.

[ He'd remembered Akechi pretty quickly, of course; he'd remembered everything just in time to not get killed, but --

He remembers that helpless, desperate, confused feeling. ]

[He closes his eyes.]

...mmn, I'm familiar. They can do whatever they want, down there, it's... I took advantage of it, I can't say I didn't. It doesn't make it right. Still, you won't convince me it wouldn't have been better if you hadn't remembered me, though I guess that would have meant your plan wouldn't have been effective.

[He sits up, enough to look at him, carding a hand through his hair again.] You said you haven't talked about it with anyone. Did you want to change that, or should I stop pressing?

No one... wanted to hear about it. [ Everyone was high on the feeling of victory -- of succeeding in a convoluted plan that, realistically, they should never have even tried to carry out. It was the kind of plan that only a bunch of teenagers could ever have put into motion.

Akira wonders how close to death he really had been. ]

It's not that I think they don't care. [ Akira has to clarify; has to defend his friends, even now. ] It's just that -- for them, it's already over. We won, so it doesn't matter.

They weren't there. I don't-- I don't know how to talk about it. [ With anyone but Akechi, because Akechi gets it, to some extent. Akechi died. Akechi knows what it's like to have that fear, that resignation. The flashbacks. ]

[He narrows his eyes, watching Akira bunch up under the idea of expressing weakness. Expressing humanity. It's a startlingly familiar thing to look at, and he can't quite tell why until it occurs to him that it's what he saw in the mirror every morning when he was putting himself together to be the Detective Prince. To be Shido's little pawn. He swallows around a knob of nausea at that concept, rolling his head from side to side to crack his neck, then lifting his shoulders, and when he drops them again he looks back to Akira with a bland expression.]

Do you not know how, or do you not want to?

It's a little of both. It's different with you. [ Akira doesn't know how to describe it. Akechi still needs things from him; he still takes care of Akechi, but if he couldn't -- when he can't --

Akechi hasn't left. Maybe because he can't, but he could have left to go do laundry. He doesn't have to be here, in this room, focusing so hard on Akira when Akira would be fine, because Akira is always Fine. ]

No one's ever wanted to hear about things like that from me. I don't mind. I like to listen to other people.

But you... like it when I talk, too.

You listened even when I never said anything.

[It's a plain statement, and he thinks nothing of it until he realizes how weighted it is, and he has the grace to be embarrassed, averting his eyes and squirming.] Also I tried to throttle you in your sleep, and you didn't force me to stay up here or talk about it, which is why I'm not forcing you, I'm asking you, I'm trying my best here, okay? I told you I'm not good at this.

Goro. [ Akira sounds a little amused, and he reaches up, letting his knuckle trace down Akechi's cheek. ]

I don't really know what I'm doing, either. I know you're not forcing me. It's nice that you listen. I'm just -- not good at talking about myself.

You're going to laugh, but--

I feel like a burden, too.

[His embarrassed huff goes out of his shoulders and he drops to sprawl across Akira's chest, scowling up at him.]

I should laugh at you, you mean. Don't call my by my first name so casually, we are not there yet. [Goro you are literally laying on his chest slotted to his side like a human-sized cat--]

Regardless-- you aren't a burden. You're a pain in my neck, head, spine and approximate entire skeletal structure, but you aren't a burden. If you're a burden, then I invented the term and concept, and we all know you won't allow that to be believed.

We're at "periodically calling each other by the first name during emotional conversations" part, I'm pretty sure. [ Akira's humor is coming back a little, so that's a good sign. He leans in to burrow into Akechi a little more, wrapping around him a little more solidly. He's nice to hold. Their heights should make things awkward, but it doesn't; it feels like they can slot together perfectly, even if Akira's pretty sure they're both going to suffer numb arms pretty soon. ]

...thanks, though. [ Akira's quiet for a moment, but it's the kind of quiet where it's clear he's mulling over something, trying to decide what he should be saying. ]

My parents, uh. They're not bad people or anything, but they weren't really around much, and when they were, they were never really satisfied with anything I did. So I always started trying to do things that made people like me more, but then people only liked me because I did those things...

Anyway, it's probably a whole complex now.

[He wheezes a faint sound when Akira burrows into him, rearranging himself so it's comfortable to let him do so. The arm he has under Akira is already going numb from the fingers back, but he doesn't seem to care enough to do anything about it.] You just like calling me Goro to irritate me.

[His mouth pulls crooked, and he hunches inward, settled atop him the way he is.] ...don't thank me, either. [He takes note of the pensive silence and keeps his own, giving Akira the time to think and then to speak, eyelids falling half closed in understanding.] Not neglect, so much as just absence, and as a result they had no relationship with you, so only knew how to blindly push you to do things they wanted you to do as opposed to things you wanted to accomplish. That's a very common Japanese household problem-- I don't mean that to undermine yours. [He reaches up to play with Akira's hair, a bit.] ...it's not so simple, to break out of ingrained habits established when you're young, especially not when it's a desperate desire to please, even at your own expense, but... From an outsider's point of view, if you'd told any of them you needed an ear, I'm sure they'd have listened. [He's speaking to himself as much as he is to Akira, he realizes, so his expression is a little sour and he won't look Akira in the eye.]

I know they would. Everyone here has been so kind. But I'm always afraid of what will happen if I ask, and they just... don't want to listen.

[ There's another moment where he doesn't speak right away, just leans into Akechi's touch, letting his eyes close. It feels nice to have Akechi's fingers in his hair. It's intimate without being cloying, a gentle touch that makes him want to sink into it and never stop. ]

In Maruki's world, you were the only one who had time for me. It felt like their ideal worlds didn't have room for me. [ It's not true. They still liked him; they were still friends. But they didn't need him. Their bonds were frayed, without meaning, without conviction.

Akira doesn't think they'd have held, in that world. ]

They weren't kind because they had to be, you realize. [He presses the point of his chin into Akira's chest for a moment, scowling slightly.]

[But then he lets up, clearly not caring much for the mention of Maruki or his reality, but allowing it in favor of deciphering the statement.] ...I think you decided that for them. You decided their happiest lives didn't include you, or didn't need you, because there wasn't a need for the Phantom Thieves. [He scrunches his face, not-quite frowning and twisting a lock of his hair between his fingers, similar to the nervous tic Akira does on his own.] ...you don't have to be helping someone to be in their lives. You don't have to be needed to be wanted. [He should really listen to his own advice, but, yolo.]

[ Akira's hand stalls for a brief moment, but then restarts, carefully, slipping up to Akechi's face to shift him up until Akira can look him in the eyes. ]

Neither of us can take our own advice, can we? [ Akira murmurs, a little quiet, a little rueful. They're both terrible at this. Even now, with Akechi literally forced to be near him, Akira is afraid of losing him, of Akechi leaving.

He's afraid to do things incorrectly in case Akechi decides it isn't worth it. ]

[Clarity hits him like being doused with ice water at Akira's shifting, until their eyes meet. He doesn't look away, but the way he recoils slightly makes it clear he wants to, but decides it's more important to keep the eye contact.] ...there are a lot of things I'm aware of that I've spent the better part of two years avoiding anyway, unfortunately.

...You don't have to promise anything, [ Akira says, slowly, letting his finger slip across Akechi's cheek like Akechi is a favorite stuffed toy from childhood, like a security blanket that Akira can't bear to get rid of. ]

But... I promise. I'm not ever going to get tired of you, or want to leave you. I want you to be able to believe that, one day.

[That's where he breaks the eye contact, flinching like Akira's words struck him.] Please don't. [It'll hurt more when he can't if he promises. If Akechi allows himself to believe the promise.]

[His breathing shallows again for a moment, but he reroutes it, shaking his head and fixing his eyes somewhere on Akira's chin, instead. He can't meet his eyes, but this isn't supposed to be about him and his constant myriad of problems.] We aren't talking about me, right now. But I'm-- not a cop, I never was, even for working with them, and if we run into another on the street you don't have to put on Joker's mask and come back here shaking. I've dealt with them a lot in the past few years, you know? I don't want it to become widespread knowledge that I'm here, but a few cops making mention of a Detective Prince lookalike will just upset the brass, so let me handle it.

[ Akira considers Akechi's words for a long moment, and then, almost cautiously, almost carefully, like he might be misunderstanding -- ]

You're saying you'll protect me? [ Which is something Akira doesn't... He's not sure anyone has ever protected him from something, actually? What a strange concept, to have someone try and shield him from something he can deal with even if he doesn't want to. ]

[That makes him look at him properly, startled by the caution in Akira's tone. He blinks, tilting his head slowly.]

It's hardly protecting you when it's just bluffing to a cop about why a high school student isn't in class, Kurusu.

It's not what you're doing. It's what you're trying to prevent. [ Bluffing to a cop isn't hard, but that's not the important part -- it's preventing Akira from being a wreck afterwards, preventing him from throwing himself face first into brewing coffee so he can avoid his own trauma response. ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

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