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ɪɴʙᴏx [ᴇxᴘɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ]
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[He pulls Akira towards himself until they're back in each other's space. So close that he can smell the dried up blood mixed with grass on the other one. Then Akechi leans to press their foreheads together and closes his eyes.
Akira feels nice and cool against his own warm body. ]
If I didn't want you here I wouldn't have let you cross the threshold.
Akira feels nice and cool against his own warm body. ]
If I didn't want you here I wouldn't have let you cross the threshold.
[He goes so, so very still. He has to remind himself Akechi isn't well, and that's likely the only reason he's doing this, and it takes a little of the startled tension out of his shoulders. He turns his wrist in Akechi's grasp until he can curl his hand upward and return the contact against Akechi's own.]
Thank you for letting me in, then.
Thank you for letting me in, then.
...Yeah.
[Ikutsuki springs to mind, and she makes a face of purest disgust at that memory. So much of what SEES had been through was his fault, after all, and he'd pretended to be their mentor, their friend.
Surely Dazai isn't like that, though, right? She shifts closer to Akira and opens her eyes, gazing up at him.]
Speaking from experience?
[Ikutsuki springs to mind, and she makes a face of purest disgust at that memory. So much of what SEES had been through was his fault, after all, and he'd pretended to be their mentor, their friend.
Surely Dazai isn't like that, though, right? She shifts closer to Akira and opens her eyes, gazing up at him.]
Speaking from experience?
[The fever might as well be affecting him here. It's very rare for Akechi to be so bluntly honest with himself as normally he'd rather escape and hide behind all of his barriers.
He hums softly and gives Akira's hand a small squeeze, almost like to assure the other.]
Don't thank me. It sounds stupid.
He hums softly and gives Akira's hand a small squeeze, almost like to assure the other.]
Don't thank me. It sounds stupid.
[He quirks a grin and closes his eyes, bumping their foreheads (and by extension, their noses, a bit) together and pretending it isn't the most intimate gesture he's ever shared with Akechi. Pretending it isn't sending his heartbeat into his throat and thundering in his ears.] You sound stupid. Go rest.
[He squeezes his hand twice in return, and takes a step back.]
[He squeezes his hand twice in return, and takes a step back.]
[If they were in a romance novel this would be where they'd probably kiss.
But since it's not and both of them seem to be too scared to cross that bridge Akechi just purses his lips together into a small pout and leans away from Akira.]
And you go get yourself cleaned up. I can smell you and it's not pleasant.
But since it's not and both of them seem to be too scared to cross that bridge Akechi just purses his lips together into a small pout and leans away from Akira.]
And you go get yourself cleaned up. I can smell you and it's not pleasant.
[Akira definitely Thought About It, but he's equal parts terrified of pushing Goro away and reeling from the already close proximity, so it doesn't happen. Maybe another time. He sulks mightily at being called stinky in not as many words, sticks his tongue out, and breezes past him into the bathroom.]
[And as promised, Akira will find a towel neatly folded waiting for him in the bathroom! No spare clothes though, sorry. Though if these visits become a requiring thing Akechi might have to fix that.
When he's done and gets back he'll find that Akechi has already changed to his sleepwear and is laying in the bed, facing the wall and injured hand above the blanket.]
When he's done and gets back he'll find that Akechi has already changed to his sleepwear and is laying in the bed, facing the wall and injured hand above the blanket.]
[Akira doesn't mind changing back into the same clothes, but the notion of Akechi mentioning he could smell him filters back to his brain. He steps out of the bathroom in just the towel and frowns. He crosses the room, gently tapping Akechi's shoulder in case he had dozed off.]
...I'm gonna go get a change of clothes real quick, okay? So I'm not stinking up your bed. [He lets his hand linger before moving away.] Do you need anything?
...I'm gonna go get a change of clothes real quick, okay? So I'm not stinking up your bed. [He lets his hand linger before moving away.] Do you need anything?
Some people's wordsmithing don't revolve around novels, Akiddo-kun.
Mmm? [He mumbles and turns his head enough that he can see Akira, sleepiness lingering in his eyes. For a moment he even considers telling him to just wear his but it's not like he has a full closet yet.]
I'm good. Keys are in my pocket. [Then an afterthought hits him]
Coffee.
I'm good. Keys are in my pocket. [Then an afterthought hits him]
Coffee.
[God help him, sleepy Akechi is about to be his 13th Reason. He manages to keep a poker face, and nods, moving away when he requests coffee, and laughs softly.]
For tomorrow, yes. I'll bring you some.
[He grabs Akechi's keys and scoots on out, and if he throws the towel off and throws himself face-first into his bed butt-ass naked and screams into his pillow for a moment, no the fuck he doesn't.]
[He comes back in his yukata again, and a fresh pair of underwear, another thermos of coffee in-hand. He places it on a bedside table, locks the door behind him, puts Akechi's keys back in his pocket, and carefully slides under the covers with him.]
[It's novel, that this isn't the first time he's gotten to do this. He only hopes it won't be the last.]
For tomorrow, yes. I'll bring you some.
[He grabs Akechi's keys and scoots on out, and if he throws the towel off and throws himself face-first into his bed butt-ass naked and screams into his pillow for a moment, no the fuck he doesn't.]
[He comes back in his yukata again, and a fresh pair of underwear, another thermos of coffee in-hand. He places it on a bedside table, locks the door behind him, puts Akechi's keys back in his pocket, and carefully slides under the covers with him.]
[It's novel, that this isn't the first time he's gotten to do this. He only hopes it won't be the last.]
[Her hand is well met, as his vision was starting to tunnel just slightly, the edges of it looking grey like the interrogation room, silver like the bulkhead wall. He sucks in a startled breath and turns to her, humming until he unsticks his jaw.]
Not well, ha.
Not well, ha.
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