stealhearted | are you hurting the one you love?

[ They should head back. Akira knows that. But there's a certain thrill to this that he's missed -- a beginning infiltration, with the whole puzzle out before him -- and he gets to do it with Akechi.

It's like a better version of Maruki's palace infiltration. ]

Let's go a little further in.

[His grin pulls just that tiniest bit wider than looks comfortable again, and he steps aside to gesture to the wall that isn't a wall at all.]

Then by all means, Leader.

[ There's a little more of a flourish than is strictly necessary in the way Akira summons Arsene back up and calmly -- but accurately -- cracks a hole in the wall so they can get through.

It's a little reckless, since they don't really know what's on the other side, but at the same time, Akira is ready for it. He presses to the side, out of sight, after the initial burst.

Sure enough, when the dust settles, there's a very confused shadow patrolling the other side -- and, as Akira reaches out to pull his gloves up, there's also the knowledge that the two of them are now considered a threat. ]

[Akechi steps to the side out of view of the hole created by Arsène as well, but the grin never leaves his face, even as he leans on the wall and closes his eyes to settle the exhilarated hum in his veins. He doesn't know to associate it with Loki entirely until he glances sidelong and Akira is in a domino mask and red gloves, and it feels a bit like Arsène has set off an Agi in his gut.]

[Of course it registers a moment later that he's looking at him through the visor of his Black Mask helmet, and he raises a clawed hand to tap against it in a stunned moment of confusion before he laughs, pivoting to toss himself through the hole made in the wall.]

[ Akira has just long enough to admire that, yes, Akechi's ass really does look fantastic in that outfit before he's jumping forward, flinging a casual attack forward to start in on physical damage with Arsene backing him.

He really doesn't have any of his good weapons, so he falls in spell heavy, which works well enough: by the time the battle ends, they're both fine, and the shadows... aren't.

Akira reaches out for the shadow, attempting a negotiation -- but the shadow swirls, losing shape and coherency. Its voice comes out layered, like a hundred people speaking through a room fan, and then it collapses in on itself. ]

... huh. I guess since it's fake...?

[Akechi has never really known how to not go in spell-heavy-- the rush of power that comes from abusing Megidolaon, especially, is veritably intoxicating. He's fine, sure, but his chest is heaving when they're through because he's just that exalted, Loki looming behind him like a weird zebra overlord.]

[He stands straighter from where he'd been hunched down as he is when he fights, and he's glad his mask covers his entire head, because it means he doesn't have to bother trying to school the wild grin on his face that he can't seem to lose. He licks his lips, cracks his knuckles, and then rolls his shoulders.] Who cares, at this point. It just makes them easier to kill.

[ They're not Akira and Akechi right here, they're Joker and Crow, and so Akira doesn't reach out, doesn't pull Akechi to his side and tell him to breathe. This kind of madness -- Joker thrives on it, the chaos of it, and it makes it easier to slowly feel the way the layout of the place they're in unwinds in his mind.

So instead he just looks at Crow, and tosses him one of the remaining bandages from his bag. ]

I did say I missed being able to work things out here. [ Which is all Akira says before he's leaning around to attack another shadow from a corner. They're still in a long hallway -- maintenance, Akira thinks -- but in truth:

the where is less important than the cheerful fighting. Akira has missed the feeling. ]

[He doesn't so much laugh as he chitters, and the sound is quiet inside his mask but still audible, catching the bandages and shoving them wherever he keeps things in a skintight hot topic nightmare bodysuit.]

Not exactly how you imagined your wish being granted, Joker? [He passes him the briefest of grins before the dismayed howl of Akira's hit landing on the shadow sends him running around the corner, brandishing his serrated sword and hailing Loki again.]

[He takes a pretty solid hit but doesn't flinch, if anything it seems to fuel him, inciting a higher degree of berserker rage than before, and this shadow, like the one before, is easily defeated. He's not out of shape, but he isn't used to fighting anymore, either, so he stays in his low stance this time, tense and ready for their next target despite the fact he should probably hang back a second. Thanks, it's the crazy.]

I'm not complaining. [ Which is about all the warning Akechi gets before Akira finishes off another shadow with a particularly well-done move, using his knife in a creative flourish borne of necessity. His weapons are limited, after all.

He steps forward, that vague look in his eyes like he's seeing something that no one else can -- and then he grins. He barrels towards Akechi at a high clip, wraps a firm arm around him, and then uses the grappling hook. ]

Hold on tight. [ Which is unnecessary, given Akira himself has a hard grip on Akechi, pressing him flush to Akira's front. They swing around to another group of shadows; Akira takes it so that they drop in to corner all of them at once.

It's... maybe too large of a group? Nah. ]

I'm not sure I've ever heard you complain, [He fires back, his tone bored in stark contrast of how Akira's little knife trick sends little electric shocks across Akechi's skin. He's chalking it up to fighting again, and overextension of adrenaline and his muscles, completely ignoring that Akira is the reason he's being affected like this. He turns to look over his shoulder at him in time to see his grin break apart that vague look, and he draws in a startled breath, tensing at the sudden wall of Joker rushing him.]

[He doesn't flinch (except he does, for a split second), and he doesn't have to hold on but he does anyway, wrapping one clawed arm around Joker's back, careful to not tear his coat. He's utterly silent as they swing their way around to ambush a group of shadows, but just before they land he makes very pointed eye contact with Akira and his expression... Is startlingly akin to an eyerake, with the way he glances briefly downward and then back up, immediately disengaging from him to rush the shadows when their feet touch the ground.]

[His face hurts from how hard he's grinning.]

[ Yeah, Akira missed this. The feeling of shadows crumpling under his attacks, the sound of Akechi's laughter ringing in his ears. He'll tell the rest of the group about it soon, and he tells himself that to assuage his guilt, but he loves this, in the middle of it, just the two of them, watching the way they automatically compensate for each other.

Akira doesn't know if Joker and Crow really count as their "true" selves -- they're a mask in their own way, after all-- but it's so much easier like this, even if he'd never want to stay quite this reckless long term.

It's something of a nonissue, of course, so Akira uses the time he has: when these shadows are defeated and he doesn't immediately sense anymore, he reaches out, drags Akechi into one of the shadowed corners, tugs his mask up, and kisses him.

It's the kind of demanding kiss that they'd had when Akechi nearly died the first time he ran errands. ]

[Akechi thinks he expected this, because he won't say he wanted it to happen, even if he did. He's pliant as he's pressed into the corner, mask pushed aside, and he fights back with his mouth when Akira invades. His hands find Joker's shoulders and hold on, but only briefly-- he wrenches away within fairly short order to pull his helmet off because it impedes this sort of thing.]

[His lips already look bruised.] Ah, this is why you talked about missing the Metaverse, isn't it.

[ The second the helmet is gone, Akira's hand is finding Akechi's neck, pulling him closer by the back of it. With his gloves on, the sensitivity is a little lower, and his fingertips swipe the baby hairs at the back of Akechi's neck without any regard for being gentle. ]

I told you we both needed to work some things out. [ Akira is at least a little breathless, his voice deeper and his gaze more intense. Like this, Akechi is so much slower to back down; Akechi rides on the thrill of a challenge and the idea of victory, and it's intoxicating and addictive and Akira seems to be trying to kiss it straight off his lips. ]

[There's a laugh, somewhere, but it gets lost between them and Akechi can't be too sure if it was him or Akira. He doesn't quite kiss him again, just yet, just breathing near his mouth, moving his head like he's trying to decide the best angle of attack.]

Is it the extra confidence of Joker, or do you really like this atrocious costume I'm in that much? [He doesn't allow him to respond, biting his way into kissing him again.]

[ Akira could respond, but he doesn't bother; he makes his thoughts on the outfit clear by snaking his other hand down to Akechi's waist to his ass, to grab at Akechi's skin and the creak of fabric and pull him closer until there's no gaps between them, hips slotting together like they're made for one another.

Normally, Akira would think something poetic at that, but he's already a little too far gone for that. Things like the tapping system and declining the attention they're giving each other -- that's something they save for the real world, he feels like. Not that he wouldn't listen, but it's easier to drown the laughter Akechi gives out, swallow it down. ]

Maybe I just like you that much. [ Akira offers, when they finally part for a second. ]

[The tapping system doesn't even occur to him. There are a lot of things that don't occur to him, here-- Loki's influence takes the seams of his sanity and yanks out every third stitch, so the longer he moves, the longer he breathes here the less it keeps him together. He doesn't mind it, in moderation, the lack of restraints is freeing, even if thinking about it when he's more coherent makes him a little nauseous.]

[So the way Joker's body fits to his, presses his back to the wall and melds together like molten iron in a forge, it's fine. He exhales raggedly, when they part, fixes him with a frown because of course he would say something like that, and shimmies one leg so his ankle hooks around the back of Akira's, pulling him closer still.] Your taste continues to be terrible. [It's said with a lighter tone, here, like a joke, just to maintain appearances. Crow, he thinks, especially Crow under the influence of Loki's power, likes Joker a lot more than Akechi himself is willing to allow. Here-- especially here, where everything is fake, even faker than it was in the Metaverse, it doesn't really matter if he's indulging himself in something he shouldn't be allowed. So he snakes his arms around Joker's shoulders, curling them behind him and hitching himself upward, between the wall and the line of Joker's body, until he's standing on his toes grinning, before he kisses him again.]

[ Akira has heard all sorts of things about his taste but he still loves Akechi, so it doesn't seem like it's going to do the slightest bit of good as far as a deterrent goes. But god; feeling Akechi hook around him, pull him closer, hitching up and nearer and warm in Akira's hands --

Is it, technically, considered a faux pas to fuck your rival-turned-boyfriend in a fake MetaVerse you haven't told your friends about specifically because you wanted to make out with said boyfriend? Is that a bad thing?

Akira doesn't know and moreover, at the moment, doesn't care. Akira's strong to begin with, but he's stronger as Joker, where his cognition can casually alter the laws of physics, so it's easy for him to grab Akechi by the waist and lift him up until he's higher than Akira, off the ground, so Akira can kiss him absolutely breathless.

It does, also, probably make the slowly growing hardness in his dress pants a little more obvious, but. ]

[And breathless Akechi certainly is. He's always known Joker was physically much stronger, but the display of it sends his stomach doing somersaults and his mouth biting into Akira's like a man starved. He gets a little clumsy with his claws, feels one of them pop a seam on Joker's coat, but can't be bothered-- it'll be fixed by cognition anyway.]

[Maybe that's why he's so much more willing to be physical, here. Anything that gets broken or is done wrong would just be fixed later. There are no consequences. He doesn't really have to face what he's doing if he does it, here. Who cares if that is absolutely escapism? Joker is hot, and as a result Akechi shifts his legs, kicking outward and around until he's actually hooked them around Akira's hips. It puts them at an angle that leaves nothing to the imagination for either of them, and he breaks away from where their mouths are sealed in favor of trying to regain his breath.]

This-- isn't safe, [He tries, knowing full well that neither of them give even half a damn.]

Isn't that why you like it? [ It's a little too raw, and a little too honest, but he can feel the way Akechi is interested, feel the way his legs are wrapped around Akira's hips, and Akira can't help the way he instinctively angles his hips, grinds against Akechi with a low groan that has a hint more growl to it than it might normally.

Akira -- Joker -- doesn't offer to stop. For one, Akechi has claws that could tear his back to shreds if he really wanted to stop, nevermind Loki -- for two, Akira would still stop in an instant if Akechi told him to. He's not that far gone. If he felt Akechi vanish somewhere into his mind, it'd immediately be hands to himself.

But it's not any of that. Akechi is moving against him, wild and untamed, and if this is the way that it has to happen then Akira doesn't mind. He's always wanted just as many bruises from Akechi, after all. ]

[He exhales in a rush at the question, turns his head and bites Akira's neck through the scalloped collar of his vest. He breathes there a moment, shakily, but doesn't shift his grip, not even when Joker grinds up against him. His breath hitches, then, and then cracks into a breathy whine, and he rearranges his arms so he can lean back and fix him with a steady, if disastrously wrecked, frown.]

You can sense shadows in the area, can you not? Don't let us get ambushed. [He unhooks his legs from around Joker's hips, landing with a soft click of his heels against the floor, and for a moment he looks over Joker's shoulder into the hallway. He moves one hand to Joker's hip, licking his lower lip and looking back at Akira as his tongue vanishes back into his mouth.] ...make this quick.

[ Akira can't sense them as well as Futaba, but he still tilts his head to give another glance around. He can sense them a little further off on a basic patrol -- but nothing where they are, hidden by the shadow of the corner.

He grins. ]

We'll just have to be quiet. [ Which shouldn't be a problem for him, but he really, really wants to make Akechi make a noise. This plan goes into action when Akira leans in, dragging his thumb down Akechi's front until it stills at his hip, the red a burst of candy colored fabric against Akechi's dark color scheme. ]

This probably doesn't have a convenient zipper, huh?

[And Akechi finds himself just letting it happen-- leaning against the wall and drawing in a slow, careful breath as Akira drags his thumb down his front. He may as well already be naked, with the way this costume hugs his skin, and when attention is drawn to it, he tilts his head and gives himself a perplexed once-over.]

...I never planned for anything of this nature, so I don't know that there's any... closure, or means of putting it on or taking it off in a conventional sense. [He sounds impressively level, at that specific moment, apart from the slight growl to how low he speaks.]

Huh. Okay. [ And then Akira is jerking his hand, knife suddenly in his palm, and dropping down to his knees in front of Akechi. His hand -- the knife -- goes to the edge of Akechi's hip. If there isn't a seam, then Akira will just make one, and it'll get put back together with cognition the same as always because Akira's already watched their outfits regenerate from a couple lucky hits from the shadows.

He grins up at Akechi. ] Hold still.

[He leans easily against the wall as Joker drops to his knees and his knife materializes in his hand, because reacting otherwise would really just make it more obvious that if he wasn't hard before, he absolutely is now. His eyebrows raise under his hair, and he affords Akira a crooked grin of his own.]

[He leans, just slightly, into the blade.] And if I don't?

Hmm. Guess we'll find out. [ Akechi might actually be the living definition of "fuck around and find out", honestly, but the "find out" stage has been long and progressively more involved.

At any rate, Akira's potential threat with the knife was really more of a promise: he draws it down the side of Akechi's outfit, watches the leather peel away until there's skin underneath, and of course there's not anything like underwear under the molten surface. He does it the first time perfectly, just to prove that he can, and then, as he drags it across Akechi's stomach to peel away the fabric into an approximation of pants, he digs the knife in just a little too hard, lets a fine line of red well up in between he split fabric. ]

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

no subject

no subject

no subject