ɪɴʙᴏx [ᴇxᴘɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ]

[chemex]

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[murderingjustice]

[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.

[chemex]

[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.]

[murderingjustice]

[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.

[chemex]

[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.]

[murderingjustice]

[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.]

[chemex]

[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?

[murderingjustice]

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.

[chemex]

[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.]

[murderingjustice]

[The thing about fever is that at some point the hotness turns into unbearable coldness. Your body might be radiating heat but inside you feel like freezing. And that's exactly where Akechi is currently at.

He's managed to doze off while waiting for Akira. The shift in the mattress stirs him awake and he automatically turns around in the bed to get closer the new source of heat]

[chemex]

[Oh. Oh? Has he been given clearance for cuddles??? He has to remind himself, yet again, that it's definitely the fever coloring Akechi's actions, but damn if he isn't going to capitalize on this one. He scoots closer, rumbling a quiet sound, and holds one arm up to beckon Akechi closer.]

C'mon, I'm a space heater.

[murderingjustice]

Shut up.

[He groans with a silent voice. It's not a real protest or anything as he accept the invitation and shuffles closer, pressing his body against Akira's. His head hides under Akira's chin, hot forehead resting on his collar bone.

Akechi's body is shivering and yet covered in a light layer of sweat. Almost as if he hadn't taken a bath to begin with. How gross]

[chemex]

[Akira just rumbles again, smiling wide enough that his face hurts a little, and wraps his arms securely around Akechi.]

[It's temporary, and maybe a little gross because Akechi is sweaty, but it's worth it. It's worth every second.]

[murderingjustice]

[Perhaps it's good that he can't see or feel Akira's face from this position, he's not sure if he'd appreciate such smile now that he's feeling so miserable himself.

He shifts a little in Akira's hold, trying to adjust his injured hand so that there won't be any pressure on it. Then he closes his eyes again, focuses on listening the way Akira's heart beats inside his chest and breathes in his scent. He can smell the faint traces of the soap and coffee.]

You smell nice. [He whispers out his observation, trying to move closer]

[chemex]

[Gods help him, he is so hopelessly gay for this disaster. He hums, shifting to put his nose against the top of Akechi's head, breathing in against his hair.] Must be your soap.

[murderingjustice]

Mmm.. [He hums in agreement, because obviously that was the case.


He stays quiet for a moment, allowing Akira's warmth lull him into the comfort. Just when was last time he had something like this? When was last time someone had hold him and comforted him through fever?


Of course he knows exactly when that was and the answer only makes him breathe out sharply and eyes feel wet under his closed lids. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He swears in his mind, shaking his head a little.]

[chemex]

[He's not quite dozing, but his eyes are closed and he's very relaxed, trying to keep still so Akechi can rest, but-- that sharp exhale grabs his attention, and he shifts to look down at him.]

All right?

[murderingjustice]

Yeah. [His voice is quiet and muffled against the fabric of Akira's yukata.

There's a brief pause before he adds] I was reminded of someone, that's all.

[He doesn't dare to say "mother" out loud, both from embarrassement and fear that he might give in to his weakened state.]

[chemex]

[He shifts, reaching one hand up to hesitantly stroke the back of Akechi's head.] ...sorry, if it was painful.

[murderingjustice]

It wasn't. [The answer comes out almost too soon to be genuine. He just doesn't want to talk about his childhood to further detail.

At first the hand stroking his hair makes Akechi to stiffen. He's so unused to this kind of touch that his body jumps to alarmed state. Luckily, though, it's short lived and he relaxes back to the touch.]

[chemex]

[He just hums softly, his hand going still until Akechi relaxes again, when he resumes a gentle petting motion.] Will you be able to sleep with me here?

[murderingjustice]

... Yes. [He breathes out the word, bringing his arm to wrap around Akira.]

Don't you dare to leave.

[chemex]

[The arm still around Akechi's shoulders tightens just slightly, his other still petting his hair. This is going to suck a lot whenever Akechi's fever breaks and they have to Address It, but. For now...]

I won't.

[murderingjustice]

[Will they really have to address this? (Yes.) Wouldn't it be just easier if they just added it to their Do-Not-Talk-About pile? Probably not.

The squeeze along with the affirming words almost causes a silent sob escape from Akechi's lips. He bats his eyes rapidly twice, driving away any remains of tears.]

[chemex]

[His arm shifts from his shoulders, moving to rub gently between his shoulder blades, instead. He didn't quite miss that near-sob, and he's not sure if he's meant to acknowledge it or not.]

[murderingjustice]

[The answer to that is obviously no. Of course you're not supposed to acknowledge any of the sounds that might betray Akechi's marble surface any more. Addressing this moment of weakness would be like taking step towards the point of no return.

Akechi clings on him harder as a response to the soothing gestures on his back. He let's another moment of silence fall over them, leaving only sounds of faint rustle of the sheets and their breathing filling the room. Minutes pass before Akechi pulls away just enough that he can arc his neck to look at Akira.

Amber eyes searches for the grey ones in the dim light, flushed and wide.]