ɪɴʙᴏx [ᴇxᴘɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ]

[chemex]

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[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.]

[chemex]

[One thing Akira has never quite struggled with is eye contact. People said he had an intimidating gaze-- it was why he donned his plano lenses for his time in Tokyo, why he kept wearing them after, when he wanted to hide. Akechi looking up at him the way he has, Akira meets, his hand stilling against his back. His other reaches up and claims those very glasses, tilting his head just enough to look uncertain of Akechi's staring. He makes no sound, but he sure as hell isn't certain of Akechi's intent, here.]

[murderingjustice]

[To be fair, he's not entirely sure what his intentions are either at the moment and just what he's trying find within the ocean of grey. Maybe, for once there isn't need for any contemplative plans or schemes. Maybe, just maybe it's ok to stop with his constant mental 5D chess and let go.

A beat, then another. Akechi's hand moves from Akira's side to back of his neck and pulls him down closer, brushing their lips together.]

[chemex]

[Of all the things he could have anticipated coming out of this interaction, the most chaste and hesitant of kisses initiated by Akechi had not been one of them.]

[For only a second, his eyes just go wide, his pupils shrinking in alarm, and he draws in an aborted breath. When his brain processes lips, his eyes immediately flutter closed, and he tilts his head just so, pressing his own lips forward. He keeps them closed, keeps it gentle, and nuzzles with his nose gently after. He stays close, their breath mingling, and opens his eyes again to search Akechi's for doubt, for regret. He still doesn't speak.]

[murderingjustice]

[There's a moment when Akechi almost forgets to breathe, the air freezing still inside his lungs. It's only when a feels a light pressure pooling up he realizes to exhale.]

Ha... [He huffs out warm air against Akira's lips and almost immediately pushes back in, sealing the gap between them.

Some could probably argue that this barely counts as a kissing. Lips closed and motionless, lacking the passion and fire. Really, they're like two kids, fumbling around awkwardly in a middle school dance or something along those lines.

But despite all of that his eyes don't reflect any hesitation or fear as he continues to pressing forward, trying to increase the intensity of their kiss through force.]

[chemex]

[Excuse Akira as he ascends into the fucking stratosphere.]

[Akechi has instigated a kiss not once, but twice, coming back with more gusto the second time. There's no way the first could have been an accident, now. His heartbeat ratchets up into his throat, but he draws his hands to Akechi's jaw and holds him gently still, pressing into him. It's insane, he realizes, how long he's wanted to do this.]

[murderingjustice]

[Akechi uses this as an opportunity to wrap his arm around Akira's shoulders and pull him closer. The mattress shifts under their weight as he encourages his rival to climb on top of him, giving them both a better access to each other.

He keeps pressing quick, rough and hungry kisses on Akira's lips, bumping their noses awkwardly together each time. Then, he eventually just sags against the mattress, exhausted and breathing heavily. The earlier heated flush has gained a darker shade of red and spread all around his face, reaching up to his ears. Panting heavily, a pair of feverish eyes keep peeking at Akira behind the sweaty curls.]