scaling | ( for fabrications )

( for fabrications )

Akira hadn't thought seeing him in person would affect him as much as it does. After all, he's had two months to mentally prepare himself for this moment.

And yet, the sight of Goro Akechi, alive and in the flesh, perfectly put-together and looking like he was made to sit under the studio lighting, makes him feel... some kind of way. Unsettled, for sure, knowing what he knows now. Then again, there's a part of him that hasn't stopped feeling unsettled since he first (well, perhaps first isn't accurate) jolted awake to find himself on the train to Yongen-Jaya again. In one piece. Not bleeding out on the ground with a megalomaniacal pseudo-god bearing down on him. And, most importantly, as the only one with any recollection of all they'd been through.

It doesn't take Akira long to come to the most logical conclusion: That somewhere along the line, he screwed up. Somehow, it hadn't been enough, and now he has an opportunity to fix it—which would be a lot easier if he were to have some notion of what, specifically, he needs to fix, or even if this is a one-time deal.

At first, he tries copying his previous motions as closely as possible. People always talk about their regrets like they would change them in a heartbeat, given the chance, but the thought of altering the timeline as he knows it is overwhelming. The more Akira steps away from his previous path, the less accurate his existing knowledge may become, the bigger the chance that he may miss something important from the first time around.

That reasoning goes out the window pretty quickly. Akira finds that he can't watch Shiho Suzui jump off that building again, can't go through hearing that agony in Ann's voice a second time when he can so easily prevent it. So he stops her. It's what the Phantom Thieves would do. And things change... but not in a way that affects the flow of events in any profound way. Ann still stumbles after them into the Metaverse and finds the conviction to awaken her persona, somehow. He's not sure how it works out, but it does. What Akira does know is that fate is what you make of it. If he believes in his teammates, they'll end up where they need to be.

But for all of that, he still wavers as they're leaving the recording area. Up until now, the decisions to change things have been easy. Akechi, on the other hand... where to start? Is it even salvageable? Akira's not certain, but when he thinks of their last meeting in Shido's palace, Akechi's remark about the possibility of them meeting a few years earlier, the sounds of gunshots echoing from the other side of the bulkhead—he can't not try. It's not years, but maybe this handful of months will be enough.

Akira lets Ann go ahead with a nod, sliding his hands into his pockets as he tries to maintain his usual casual demeanor. Any moment now...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"So I've been told." The pajamas can wait until later. Akira takes a seat on the couch as well, a bit closer than he normally would have.

He's rewarded with the ever-so-slight weight of Akechi leaning into the proximity. To anyone else, it might seem silly to get worked up over some barely-there contact, but the small move is like a blaring statement from Akechi. It's a tiny, honest gesture that makes his chest ache, both with how much he wants to be closer and with how much he doesn't want to ever have to part with this.

But he knows how unrealistic that idea is, even with Akechi's suggestion lending to the distant but appealing fantasy of staying here indefinitely. The former, though? He might be able to do something about that tonight.

"Giving me a key, telling me to leave my clothes," Akira recounts, leaning forward to set his coffee down. "It sounds like you're giving me permission to move in, Goro." They both know he'd never be able to forsake Leblanc (not that his probation would allow that, anyway), but that thought doesn't keep the warmth from his gaze as he looks over.

Akechi shifts just far enough to not interfere with Akira while he sets his coffee down, then goes right back to ever-so-slightly leaning against him. He keeps a hold of his hot chocolate, taking a sip before he answers.

"I'm not sure we'd be comfortable in such a small apartment." He doesn't hate the idea of living with Akira otherwise, though. That's sort of surprising. It's also something that's going to have to wait quite a while longer either way. "But if your visits became more regular, I wouldn't mind that at all."

"Neither would I," he responds after a beat. As much as he'd like to, he can't give confirmation of such a thing happening, not when he knows he won't be back here for a while. Once again, the urge to come out and tell him strikes, but Akira stuffs the words back down. Not happening.

So instead, he turns a bit, facing Akechi more. Right—he can do this now, can't he? Openly observe, admire the dark red of his eyes and the shape of his lips, lift his fingers for a light touch to the line of his jaw.

The slight beat between responses isn't lost on Akechi (little changes like that usually aren't) but this time it actually catches his attention. Fortunately for Akira's plans for tomorrow, the touch to his jaw is more than enough to distract him.

On the extremely long list of 'normal things that Akechi has almost no experience with', this sort of gentle physical contact is at the top. His smile fades a little, though rather than unhappiness it's replaced with curiosity and anticipation. He turns his head, the gesture as small and slight as the subtle lean from earlier but still enough to make the contact between he and Akira a little firmer. Just in case that's not enough to drive the point home he lifts his hand, letting his fingers brush against the back of Akira's.

With Akechi leaning into his touch, it's all too easy to allow the rest of the world and all of the worries that come with it fade into quiet static in the background, all of his focus narrowed onto this one point in the present.

The graze of fingers against his own, another small but deliberate encouragement, has Akira's heart pumping quicker, the skin of the arms prickling with a desire for more. That Akechi wants this too is a staggering thought, one he hadn't considered until just recently. He exhales a steadying breathe, cups his palm a little firmer against Akechi's jawline, and leans in.

As Akira closes the gap between them, he makes the idle, inane observation that Akechi is the perfect height for this—a thought that's quickly obliterated as he meets his lips. He can't imagine that Akechi has a ton of experience in this, if any at all, so Akira keeps it chaste, a warm point of contact that nonetheless makes his mind swim.

'None' still counts as 'not a ton', so Akira's assumption is very much correct. But as Akra leans in, Akechi discovers that it doesn't usually matter. His normal preoccupation with appearing competent no matter the circumstances has vanished, replaced with excitement and eagerness. He smooths his hand down to Akira's wrist, fingertips just slightly sliding under the hem of his sleeve.

Akechi's not immediately sure of what else to do, but worry about that is quickly superseded by the realization that he's actually perfectly happy with just this. It's simple and he wants more, but he also feels warm and content and perfectly at ease. It's a rare feeling, and one that he relishes.

Seems his thoughts weren't completely off-base. There's a lack of direction coming from Akechi, but the brush of fingers against his wrist is more than enough to let him know that the advance isn't unwelcome. Well, Akira is used to leading, although he rarely volunteers for it. In this case, he finds he's more than happy to. It's been a while since he's kissed anyone, but it's not like he's worried about his performance. Akira's not sure doing this with Akechi could actually be bad.

His hand traces along Akechi's jaw until he can feel the tickle of his hair. This is something he's wondered before as well, whether Akechi's hair is as soft as it looks, and Akira isn't disappointed when he threads his fingers through it. The touch is anchoring as he ventures a bit deeper into the kiss, catching Akechi's lip between his with a graze of teeth.

Akechi isn't uncertain (or at least, he won't let himself think he is) but he still feels a bit overwhelmed - or perhaps spoiled for choice. Despite his lack of experience there's so much he wants to do, which is probably obvious in how his breath catches, his lips part, and his fingers tense against Akira's wrist when he feels the graze of his teeth.

Having his hair touched isn't a surprise, but he is a little startled by how good it feels despite being such a simple gesture. It's sparks and urge in him to do the same, but even now he can tell it might not be the easiest reach. And that's frustrating, which in turn makes every little sensation a little sharper. Akechi's subtle lean into Akira gets a little less subtle, the hand on his wrist slides further down his arm, and Akechi's free hand slips down so that he can brush his fingers over Akira's waist.

There's a jolt of satisfaction when Akechi's hands turn to bolder contact. That's exactly what Akira would expect from him. Akechi has never been the type to simply roll over when pushed, nor to give new endeavor any less than his full effort—a fact that's especially exciting right now, when it leads to fingertips skirting over his waist.

He has half a mind to grab that hand and fit it more firmly against his side, but Akira is more interested to see what Akechi decides on his own, so he simply slides his free hand against the column of Akechi's neck, a light scrape of nails against skin. The part of his lips has Akira crowding in ever-so-slightly, tongue swiping across it teasingly.

Akira doesn't have to do anything special to get what he wants. Akechi settles his hand against him more firmly just a moment later without any prompting at all, thumb lazily swiping back and forth against his shirt. The shirt being in his way is kind of annoying, actually, but while it's impossible for him to really be distracted right now it's still enough that he doesn't quite process the scrape against his neck until he's already instinctively reacted.

'Instinctively reacted', in this case, being a soft intake of air. Goosebumps break out underneath Akira's fingers, and though Akechi's lips only part further he also pulls back, eyes sliding open (though he's only just realized that he closed them at some point). He's not aware of how he looks - eyes bright, cheeks flushed, a faint smile on his face - but that's probably for the best. If he knew how he looked he'd be embarrassed; certainly too embarrassed to do what he does next, which is shift so that he's facing Akira properly and, hopefully, making it easier for them to continue.

He doesn't lean in for another kiss just yet, though. Instead he lifts his hand from Akira's arm and reaches out, intent on sliding his fingers into his hair. He bets it's just as soft and fluffy as it looks, and he's determined to find out.

Akechi may not be privy to his own expression, but Akira has certainly noticed. Where he once commented on his preference for Akechi's natural smile, this time he keeps the thought to himself, tucking away a mental snapshot of the glowing contentment that stirs an affectionate flutter in his chest.

It's a memory he may need to refer to in the coming days, when things are bound to get rough and lonely.

But right now, he wants to sink himself completely into this, into the way Akechi turns to meet him with a hand reaching out. It only takes a moment to realize that it's going for his head, and when he does, Akira doesn't try to escape. If anything, there's a minute lean toward the touch, his own grip dropping as he settles for simply resting his forearms on Akechi's shoulders. His mind flashes back to a similar encounter, one that feels ages ago despite being less than a month old: Akechi inspecting his hair, the proximity sending a jolt through him. Funny that he's finally getting a resolution to that now.

"So?" he prompts when the fingers slide into the inky waves of his hair, and Akira, for one, is completely aware that the look on his face is an unfortunate mix of smitten smile and teasing smirk. "What's your professional opinion, Mr. Shampoo Commercial?"

"Hmm..." Akechi makes a show of being thoughtful, shuffling his fingers through the strands with slow, deliberate motions, though it's hard to not smile at the 'shampoo commercial' comment. Truthfully, he's just happy for an opportunity to continue touching it, though he's not sure if this is something he should be seeking out or using excuses for. Especially not when the closeness, proximity, and physical contact all feels so natural.

"It's as fluffy as I thought it would be." It doesn't occur to him that admitting that he's actually been thinking about Akira's hair might be weird. "And as unrly." He feels like he's going to get his fingers tangled up in it if he's not careful, a thought that does nothing to stop him from combing his fingers down over Akira's temple. "It really does suit you." He's said it before but it feels like something that bears repeating.

If Akira could purr, he'd be doing it right now. The stroke of fingers through his hair is almost like being pet, so gentle that there isn't even a sting when they catch and pull through the more stubborn stands. Each pass leaves a prickling warmth in its wake, not too unlike the one that squeezes in his chest when Akechi implies that he's imagined what this would feel like.

"I'm glad you think so." The words are a little more breathy than he thought they would be on the delivery. Akira swallows, centers himself, and tries again, "Because it's not changing." As they established last time, he doesn't have much choice in that aside from shearing it all off, and now that he knows Akechi likes it... Well, that's not going to happen.

"Feels good," he adds after a moment, eyes falling shut against the sliding, inquisitive touch. Just lying his head in Akechi's lap and letting this continue wouldn't be a bad way to spend the rest of the night.

Akechi has a thought like, Morgana's not the only cat freeloading at Leblanc. But once again, he catches himself before he voices it. Morgana isn't around anymore, and there really is only one 'cat' left in Leblanc's dusty attic.

"I recall you saying you couldn't change it." And something about it stressing Akira's parents to no end when they tried to make him look presentable. "But I'm glad to hear that." Akechi doesn't miss the breathy quality to Akira's voice at first and it makes him glad that his own is a little more under control.

Akechi is taken by the same thought - that he thinks he could do this all night, just sit here and drift off running his hands through Akira's hair. It's still just as intimate as anything else they've done tonight, but in a way that's comfortable and, though Akechi doesn't think of it like that, safe. It's that sensation of safety that has Akechi feeling bold enough to speak up again.

"It's a good thing I already offered to let you stay the night." His hand pauses briefly in Akira's hair. "You look like you're about to fall asleep."

Although he suggested staying up all night earlier, Akira can feel his resolve beginning to wane. A rare occurrence for him, indeed, but the incredibly long day is starting to take its toll, demanding that he finally rest, fatigue coaxed along by the comfort of Akechi's fingers in his hair.

"I feel like I might," Akira admits quietly. He doesn't want to. He wants to savor every moment he has left with Akechi right now, let each one stretch out as he commits it to memory. But the reasonable part of him is beginning to accept that this is a good way to end the night. "I think today's finally starting to catch up with me."

The arms he has settled over Akechi's shoulders curl, and without thinking too deeply about it, Akira drags himself in closer and tucks his head in alongside Akechi's. Like this, he doesn't have to be careful about his expression giving him away under Akechi's perceptive gaze.

"If you wake me up early enough, I can make omurice for breakfast." Despite the edges of sorrow poking through the cloud of contentment, his tone stays light. Akira isn't about to pretend that he can wake up that early without a little help.

'A good way to end the night' isn't a thought that Akira voices out lout, but it's one that Akechi agrees with wholeheartedly. Especially when Akira presses closer, tucking his head against his in a way that feels warm and natural and right. Akechi pulls his arm around Akira's shoulder, though the one in his hair continues to comb through the unruly strands.

As for breakfast... that's right. He'd mentioned the omurice ingredients while they were discussing dinner earlier, hadn't he? Despite the positive reaction he'd had to the 'omurice' that Akira had managed to salvage out of the limited ingredients that Akechi had handy, he's pretty interested to try Akira's take on the real thing.

"You'll be thrilled to know I wake up at 7 AM every morning." Except for that time after Sae's Palace - and, truthfully, maybe tomorrow morning as well. As Akira said, today's starting to catch up to him. "I hope you realize that means you'll be sleeping on the outside, though." Much like Akira, he keeps his tone light, though rather than sorrow he's trying to conceal the hurricane of butterflies that whirl through him at the implied suggestion in his words. It would definitely be more weird for them to sleep apart at this stage, but something about suggesting otherwise is a little nerve-wracking.

Luckily, being tucked in close like this also means that Akechi can't see the grimace that twists his expression when he mentions his usual schedule—only for it to blank out suddenly at the implication that follows. Oh. Why does that make his heart threaten to beat itself up into his throat? It's not like he's used to sleeping alone, Morgana is—

Akira cuts that thought off abruptly, focusing instead on the solid warm under his arms and against his chest, on the fingers pulling through his hair, so gentle and considerate.

"Not a good idea if you want to get out of bed that early." He settles for quietly refuting Akechi's claim, letting his words puff against his ear. "Having to climb over me means I can keep you trapped." For a little while, anyway. He still has to part with Akechi in time to head back and meet Sae before it gets too late. But even with each second hurtling him closer to that instance, it feels like ages away when sharing a bed with Akechi stands before it. Akira finally works up the motivation to unwind himself from Akechi, giving him the space and freedom of limb he needs to stand up.

"I could drag you out with me," he muses, but not even he sounds convinced - probably because all of his effort is going into not sounding too excited when Akira accepts the prospect of sharing a bed without so much as blinking. "Besides, how could you make omurice from bed?" Though Akechi's good mood and humor come through, he still manages to make his tone a little chiding.

But it seems like they're finally standing up, so Akechi allows himself to unwind his arms from around Akira and pushes himself to his feet. Now that he's up he suddenly feels even more sleepy than before, to the point that he kind of wants to just flop down fully dressed. He knows better, however, so he retrieves the two pairs of pajamas that he set on the bed earlier and offers one set out to Akira.

"You can get ready first." There's only room for one person in the bathroom, and it's more polite to let a guest go first, and he has some minor things to take care of anyway, none of which are the real reason he lets Akira go first: he needs a chance to calm himself down before his nervous excitement makes him do something embarrassing. Even if tonight has been wonderful, even if Akira has already seen him at his worst, even if he still trusts Akira more than he's ever trusted anyone, it's still hard to be comfortable with the that degree of emotional vulnerability.

"Ah, you've exposed the flaw in my plan..." He doesn't sound all that defeated, however, simply rising to his feet with a little cock of his head to work out a kink. The absence of Akechi's warm around him is regrettable, leaving the apartment feeling chillier than before even with his long sleeves.

When Akechi offers the pajamas and the first opportunity in the bathroom, he accepts with quiet thanks. As much as he wants to rush into the phase of this where they have no issues taking off their clothes around each other, Akira knows better. If he pushes towards that now, it's going to be because his extremely limited freedom weighs on his mind, not because things naturally progressed in that direction.

That thought lingers as he disappears into the bathroom. By the time he emerges a few minutes later, previous outfit folded in hand, face washed and teeth brushed, he's managed to shut it away again—for the moment. Like a cockroach, it seems to keep peeking out of the tiniest cracks in his thoughts, finding a way to the surface no matter how he tries to block it out.

"Your turn," he speaks up, voice level, as he heads over to tuck his clothes into his bag.

Fortunately, the problem of the chill in the air is something that Akechi can fix. The heater is running when Akira emerges - not enough to make the room truly warm, but enough to take the edge off. Being in bed (with another person, no less) will handle the rest.

When Akira emerges all of the lights in the apartment, aside from the overhead light controlled by the switch above the bed, have been switched off, the curtain over the balcony has been tugged fully closed, and Akechi's phone has been set on his desk to charge. Feeling a little less over-energized, Akechi offers his thanks and gathers up his own set of pajamas to slip into the bathroom. The prospect of changing in front of Akira doesn't even occur to him as a possibility at this point.

He takes a bit longer to get ready, but still emerges just a few minutes later. His clothes get dumped in the laundry basket in his closet, and then Akechi dumps himself (albeit much more gracefully and gently) on the bed. He makes his movements confident and casual, regardless of whether Akira is already in bed or not. Fortunately (likely for Akechi and Akechi only) he hasn't forgotten his sense of humor.

"You'd better say something now if it's too warm or cold. I won't want to get out of bed to change it later."

Without Akechi in the room, the atmosphere of the apartment is dimmer in a way that has nothing to do with the lights being out. Maybe it's just the shadow cast by his own mood?

A subtle frown paints over his face as he tucks his phone into his bag. Coming over here was never on his agenda; it was just something he did on a whim, too wrung out by the day's events to turn anywhere else but Akechi's presence. Going home to grab his phone charger never crossed his mind, but it doesn't seem terribly important right now. Akira doesn't think he could tell the others about his plan to turn himself in even if he wanted to.

He makes it a point to crawl into Akechi's bed before he finishes up in the bedroom, pointedly positioning himself on the interior. The covers, the sheets, the pillows—all of it smells of Akechi, wrapping him in a shroud of scent that warms and soothes. Even better is when the man himself finally joins, drawing a small quirk of Akira's lips.

"This is comfortable." Besides, he doesn't think he'll be giving Akechi the chance to get up unless absolutely necessary, anyway. Inching closer, Akira shifts onto his side—not his preferred sleeping position, but one he can deal with it it means laying an arm over Akechi's middle. As he lets that weight settle, he speaks up, quiet in the still air of the apartment, "Thanks for letting me stay the night, Goro." He probably doesn't know how important it truly is tonight.

Akechi reflects with some amusement that Akira has apparently chosen the option that lets him stay in bed as long as possible. Akechi hardly minds, though. He didn't even bother to set an alarm for the morning and, in fact, had double checked to make sure his regular alarm was switched off.

With the temperature apparently at an agreeable setting, Akechi leans over to hit the final light switch, then slides under the covers next to Akira. His bed isn't really made for two people, but he finds it more cozy than cramped and manages to settle in without jostling or kicking his bedmate. For some reason he doesn't expect to feel Akira's hand at his waist but he's quick to return the gesture despite that; his fingers rub back and forth just once, his mind temporarily caught on the oddity of the familiar texture of his own pajamas being worn my someone else. Then Akira speaks and the thought is immediately forgotten.

"Thank you for deciding to stay." His tone is puzzled but warm, like he's been caught off guard by something entirely wanted. "I wasn't thinking about it until you showed up, but it would have been lonely otherwise." He's had enough of feeling alone. Quite frankly, suddenly he's flat out sick of it.

Brief though it is, that gentle rub sets his tumultuous heart at ease. The path ahead of him may be dark and uncertain, but these moments will be like a candle he'll carry through it.

"It would've been the same for me." Not just because Morgana is gone, either. There's nothing he wants less right now than to be alone with his thoughts, and maybe that's part of what drove him here in the first place. Even if he can't tell Akechi exactly what's on his mind, Akira knew he would do his best to understand his current state.

Wrapped up in Akechi's warmth and scent lends a new weight to his eyelids. The events of the day suddenly begin to set in physically all at once, pressing exhaustion into his bones. With a slow blink, he speaks up once more, "Good night, Goro."

"Good night, Akira."

With those words spoken it's only a matter of moments before Akechi has drifted off, though 'drifted' does a disservice to how quickly sleep overtakes him. He's out before he realizes it and, aside from when he presses a little closer to Akira not long after his heater automatically clicks off and the temperature drops, remains motionless until it's time to wake up.

Speaking of which, though he may not have set an alarm Akechi is still an early riser by nature. Whether it's own his own or because Akira stirs first, he wakes up just after eight, a whole hour later than usual, though the relaxation of sleeping in is somewhat ruined by the jolt of surprise when he realizes he's not alone. Even that passes once he remembers why, though, and he relaxes again without even needing to force it.

Whether Akira is awake or not, Akechi intends to leave his hand draped over his waist for as long as possible. His other hand is freed from underneath his pillow and finds its way to Akira's hair, however, and he starts to absentmindedly brush his fingers through the unruly waves. It would probably be way too self-indulgent to just lay here and pet Akira's hair indefinitely, but aside from murmuring a sleepy Good morning. if Akira's awake, Akechi doesn't do anything but continue.

True to his character, Akira isn't the first to stir. In any other situation, the things on his mind might stir up nightmares that wake him in the early morning. Here in Akechi's presence, though, they're washed into the farthest shadows, too distant to bother him. And so, he rests soundly...

Right up until that hand begins to pull through his hair. The unfamiliar but soothing sensation draws him closer to consciousness, a gradual process that starts with a hum in the back of his throat, then a little smack of his lips, until finally his eyes are beginning to flutter open. There's a similar, fleeting sense of confusion when it registers that he's in Akechi's bed, but it soon melts into a drowsy half-smile. Akira tilts his head into the touch.

"Good morning," he says softly. What time is it? It feels early, but judging by the sunlight that faintly bathes the room, it can't be too egregious an hour.

( for fabrications )

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