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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...

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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.

Akira being slower to wake doesn't come as a surprise at all. He hadn't stirred until Akechi's phone rang last time, either. So Akechi is patient while Akira goes through the process of pulling himself back to the waking world. When he finally speaks, a slightly less drowsy version of that half smile of his is reflected on Akechi's expression.

"Good morning." Akechi's fingers finally fall still, though he leaves them resting on Akira's head. After a beat, he adds, "Probably. I haven't had a chance to check yet." And it seems like he's not in a rush to do so. Even when he finally withdraws his hands from Akira's hair and waist and rolls into his back, it's only so he stretch out without even bothering to kick the covers off. "... Oh, and merry Christmas." If it sounds like an afterthought, that's because it is. Akechi hadn't even done the barest amount of preparations, but since Akira's here it feels like a waste to not say.

Akechi really thinks he can just retract his touch that easily? In his best and most unintentional impression of a cat, Akira follows, rolling onto his own back and nestling his side right up against Akechi's in the process. There, warm again.

He doesn't have a chance to look smug about it, though. His eyes widen slightly at the added greeting. "Merry Christmas," he returns, shaking most of the grogginess from his voice. That's right. It's Christmas, and he's about to go turn himself into the police. Talk about the season of giving. At least he managed to take Akechi on a Christmas Eve date.

Well, that's not all. Akira raises his hand to rub some of the sleep from his eyes. "Are you ready for Christmas omurice?"

Ah, he should have known better than to try to escape. Akechi lowers his arm to settle it around Akira once more, but otherwise remains still while he gets comfortable. The whole process feels natural enough to come full circle to feeling strange again. He likes it.

"I've been ready since you first mentioned it." Not that he seems to be in any rush to get out of bed. In fact, he stays right where he is. Sounding a little too pleased with himself, he adds: "I promise to not try to trap you on your way out."

He huffs out a soft, short laugh. "Like you could, anyway." Despite the joke, Akira thinks he really won't mind being physically trapped here. Trapped in bed with Akechi, perfectly warm and comfortable to rest against, looking so inviting with his sleep-mussed hair and lips stretched in a smile? Oh no, how dreadful.

But alas, he has to move. After allowing himself a prolonged moment to carve this feeling into his heart, Akira shoves himself up onto an elbow and makes his move to crawl over Akechi, swinging his leg over first.

Akechi literally just promised to not try to trap Akira, but as Akira swings a leg over him and the understated intimacy of the movement suddenly sinks. Akechi doesn't let himself second-guess his impulse (or rather, he ignores the persistent, over-cautious voice in his head that second guesses every slight vulnerability he exposes) and reaches up to grab hold of Akira's shoulder and drag him to a stop with one hand. He slides his other hand to the back of his neck and, with gently insistent pressure, aim to pull him down for a quick, chaste kiss.

There. Now Akira can go make breakfast.

Even the grasp of Akechi's hands can't prepare him for the soft press of his lips. His heart stutters in his chest, hanging a beat before it picks up even quicker than before, rabbiting in his chest. That single brief kiss is all it takes to cast away his drowsiness. Talk about a wake-up call.

"Looks like I'm wrong," Akira murmurs, far too pleased to admit that. Akechi doesn't even have to physically hold him down to keep him here; instead, Akira ends up tied up in impulse, an urge that has him settling his weight down onto Akechi's thighs and his arms against the sheets. "You trapped me."

Breakfast can wait a few minutes. Drawing Akechi into a slow kiss can't.

"Who knew capturing the leader of the Phantom Thieves could be so easy?" As if everything they went through leading up to this point could be called 'easy' - and as if he's the one that has Akira trapped, rather than the other way around. Having someone sitting on him like this is a wholly unfamiliar sensation, but by no means an unpleasant one.

But any other jokes and musings are forgotten when Akira presses close again. Akechi relaxes into the next kiss eagerly and without hesitation, his eyes slipping closed and his hand sliding into Akira's hair once again. It seems that absentmindedly playing with the soft wavy strands has managed to become a habit in less than a day.

A witty response begins to formulate out of pure habit, waiting on his tongue, right up until Akechi's hand sinks into his hair. His thoughts scatter, fragmented by the almost ticklish brushes against his scalp and the gentle, coincidental tugs at the strands. A soft hum vibrates in Akira's throat, and he bears down into the kiss.

He could get lost in this. The solid muscle beneath him, the plush give of Akechi's lip as he gives a parting swipe of his tongue... Food is such a distant thought. He needs that? No, all he needs is right in front of him. The bit of morning light that gets into the room catches on Akechi's hair and illuminates it faintly, a halo against the sheets. He looks so ethereal that Akira has to shift his arm to brush at it, just to remind himself that this is real.

"How can bedhead be so pretty?" It slips out without premeditation, a rare instance. Akira's words are usually heavily curated, his thoughts locked up tight behind an ever-shifting mask. Even now, he wears some semblance of one as he holds back the truth, but Akechi still manages to inflict these little cracks on his composure.

If Akira thinks he could get lost in this, then Akechi already is. His usual flair for analytical thoughts and observations has completely left him. All he can think about is the feel of Akira's lips and tongue against his, the soft texture of his hair, the comfortable weight pressing him down against the sheets. He pulls his free hand around Akira's shoulders and only relaxes his grip once Akira puts some space between them.

Sincerity is a difficult thing for Akechi, both in expressing it and in having it expressed towards him. His time spent with Akira has helped him improve significantly, but he's starting from zero and even major strides still only cover so much distance.

Even so, he is improving. When Akira pays him that off the cuff compliment Akechi doesn't immediately deflect with a joke. He just closes his eyes again, lips curving in an embarrassed but almost giddy smile.

"Could it be that you're biased?" It's not meant to be self-depreciating, and his tone lacks the usual sarcastic or gloomy note that usually comes with such comments. He opens his eyes again, and though he tilts his head slightly towards Akira's touch his gaze now focused slightly up. "Not that I have room to talk. I'd say yours is cuter than ever."

This really is self-indulgent, isn't it? Akechi wishes he could do this all day.

To compare Akechi to an angel would be ironic, really, considering all the demons he knows to be weighing the other boy down, but here Akira is, mentally likening that sweet little smile to something heavensent. He doesn't voice the extent of his thoughts, but he at least doesn't try to hide his staring.

"That's my completely objective opinion." And while it's a joke, he would suspect that most people would agree with him: Akechi's freshly awoken look is unfairly pretty. Akira, on the other hand, knows that his hair is sticking up in twice as many directions as usual, and there's definitely still sleep clinging to the corners of his eyes. That makes the compliment Akechi pays him all and the sincerity behind it the more meaningful. "You think? Then I'll just leave it like this."

He could, actually. It's not like he cares how the police see him at this point. His own opinion of them is probably irreversibly soured, and he knows that they're going to wring whatever terrible assumptions they can out of his appearance no matter how nicely he presents himself.

If Akira saw the amount of time, effort, and money Akechi put into his hair- and skincare routines, his relatively put together appearance first thing in the morning would probably make more sense.

Akira's comment (Akechi genuinely can't tell if it's a joke, a threat, or a promise) about leaving his hair as it is gets a soft laugh from Akechi, who finally lets his hand fall away from Akira's hair and settle against his arm again. Akira's staring goes unnoticed solely because Akechi is doing the exact same thing in return.

"I certainly wouldn't complain about that, but are you sure it won't get in the way?" Akira's hair is already constantly somewhat in his face, and it seems worse than usual now, though at least he doesn't actually need his glasses.

"If I trip, you'll just have to catch me." How he manages to deliver that line as smoothly as he does while the eye contact sends his heart racing again is a mystery even to Akira himself. This really was like stepping right into a pit of quicksand; the warmth threatens to tug him right back down towards the mattress.

No. No sinking, no disappearing under the covers all day. There's a little twitch of his fingers near Akechi's hair as he reminds himself of what he has to do, a quick inhale as he collects himself, and then—

"I'm getting hungry." As Akira speaks, he slowly detaches himself and slides the rest of the way off the bed, finally getting to his feet. The churning in his stomach is probably due in part to hunger, but other factors are definitely at play. "Mind if I take up the bathroom first?"

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