[Thank you for not concussing him with his own thermos, Akechi, that's very thoughtful of you.]
[The thing about Akira, and his specific sort of frustration, particularly with Goro Akechi, is that he isn't mad at him for his feelings, not by a long shot. And he's certainly not mad at him for his attempt at honesty, no-- it's that he's brushing it all off, that he "doesn't know", but then he pulls things like this. Like those lips on the back of his neck, like the arm around his waist, coiling around him like a viper. His shoulders pull tight, and he somehow manages to rotate in the narrow space Akechi leaves between him and the counter, tossing the spatula to land somewhere hopefully on the counter.]
Akechi, stop, what the fuck. [He puts his hands on his collar bones, pushes gently.] You're misunderstanding me again. [A beat, and the frown on his face softens.] ...no, I'm not explaining myself properly, again.
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[The thing about Akira, and his specific sort of frustration, particularly with Goro Akechi, is that he isn't mad at him for his feelings, not by a long shot. And he's certainly not mad at him for his attempt at honesty, no-- it's that he's brushing it all off, that he "doesn't know", but then he pulls things like this. Like those lips on the back of his neck, like the arm around his waist, coiling around him like a viper. His shoulders pull tight, and he somehow manages to rotate in the narrow space Akechi leaves between him and the counter, tossing the spatula to land somewhere hopefully on the counter.]
Akechi, stop, what the fuck. [He puts his hands on his collar bones, pushes gently.] You're misunderstanding me again. [A beat, and the frown on his face softens.] ...no, I'm not explaining myself properly, again.