ɪɴʙᴏx [ᴇxᴘɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ]

[chemex]

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[chemex]

[He's surprised Akechi allowed the contact, let alone added his own hand to it. He doesn't relax, so much as he slumps slightly into Akechi's back, putting his face against his shoulder. The sound he makes is only very slightly like a laugh.]

I'd say I'm glad, but I'm still pretty sure we're both insane, anyway.

[He doesn't move his arms, doesn't try to recoil or hold him closer, he just... stands. Relishes the contact. The warmth. Tries to not let the creeping sense it's temporary make him shake apart.]

[murderingjustice]

[There's no more left vitriol or fire to fuel his anger in him. To say he's tired or exhausted isn't even coming near to it, last time he felt anything like this was back in the engine room where he had screamed and laid himself bare for everyone to see. Now, luckily, there was only Akira. While he doesn't lean into the touch there's no denying that... he finds it comforting. Like Akira's keeping him still from spiraling down within his head.]

Speak for yourself, idiot. [The joke does help to dissolve the previous tension, directing them towards their usual bickering.]

...Let's make another deal.

[chemex]

You can just ask me things, you know. It doesn't have to be a deal.

[He leans his head at an angle, then, looking at him.] ...let's go back to the Inn?

[murderingjustice]

That's not it. [He knows he could do just that, but using his own words and terms is just so much easier for Akechi make sense of the situation. And where they stand.

He gives Akira's arm a light squeeze, searching for what to say next.]

If... If we team up again, like in the past. And find out the ones responsible for our presence here. I won't ask you to make the decision like with Maruki, if things come to that. [It's really all he can give to Akira right now. He won't promise that he'll stop looking for a way out. But at least this way they can work themselves into each other lives without unnecessary friction.

In short: let's stay together, asshole.]

[chemex]

[He blinks. And processes the statement slowly, raising his head off his shoulder and watching him. Watching for a long time, realizing. I won't ask you to make the decision like with Maruki, he won't ask him to choose. To choose between Akechi, and the rest of the world.]

[His jaw snaps shut, and he buries his face against the back of Akechi's shoulder. He takes a few breathes, short and ragged, and nods. Eventually, quietly:] Okay.

[murderingjustice]

[The pressure on his already sore body feels uncomfortable enough to make Akechi take a deep breath, but he doesn't recoil or try move away. Instead he braces himself and finally leans back, indulging in his touch and allows himself just to be held.

Maybe, just maybe if they become a team again things will start to make sense. He won't try to push Akira away again. He can try not to do everything by himself. There's a brief recognition of the fact if he had just told the other about wanting to talk with Dazai this whole ordeal wouldn't have happened.

He's not sure if it's because of the emotional stress or his injuries, or both for that matter, that makes him feel dizzy and drained. He's pale and feeling hot.]

Let's just go back. Okay?

[chemex]

[He hums, his brain too fried for words for the moment, and carefully pulls Akechi just a little closer before he unfolds his arms from around his chest. He stays behind him, though, moves his hands to his shoulders, and gently pushes into him from behind to get him to walk. He'll stay behind, half-hugging him, if Akechi lets him.]

[murderingjustice]

[ok, don't blink now because!! Yes, Akechi kinda allows Akira to keep touching him as they walk towards their shared residence. He's too tired to put up a fight and once they reach their destination the fever or whatever has caught up on him, leaving him with barely energy to give out a disapproving stares.

He's sweating more than he should be and all he wants now is to take a hot bath and go to sleep. Fixing his hand is important, but there should be healers enough around them.]

Let's just go upstairs for now. Your face looks awful.

[chemex]

[Part of why Akira has maintained contact is that he can feel the subtle shift in Akechi's temperature, and the slight tremor to his movements. He's less sure of himself, and he's sweaty when it isn't that warm. He has enough of a cursory understanding of first aid to know that broken bones can cause fever, and if nothing else, Akechi is his teammate. He'll look after him.]

I might wind up with a black eye, but most of it's probably just blood. You look worse, [Banter seems to keep them somewhat afloat.]

[murderingjustice]

[He scoffs a silent 'fuck you' and moves to climb up the stairs. In mid-point he turns around to look at Akira behind him, almost asking if who's room they should go to. But trusting that he won't be going anywhere without him Akechi just chooses his own room over Akira's.

Once he enters his room he begins to undress, fingers fumbling around the buttons of his blazer. His left hand has almost gone numb altogether at this point, making it harder for him to move even his healthy fingers. He struggles himself out of his blazer and hangs it up. Then he kicks off his shoes, not even bothering placing them neatly like he normally would.]

I think.. [pause.] I'll go and take a bath. You can go, too if you want.

[chemex]

[He considers trying to help, but decides not to-- Akechi tended to view someone trying to help as pity. Being seen as weak. He needed to do better to moderate how he acted around him, so he didn't aggravate their struggles.]

[He watches him, regardless, the way he's uncoordinated and kicks his shoes off carelessly. He's off-kilter, for sure.]

Yeah, that sounds nice.

[murderingjustice]

Hm. [He hums a response and walks to his bathroom, trusting that Akira doesn't need a separate invite to make himself at home. It's not his first visit either.

The sounds coming from the bathroom indicates that he's running the bath. It'll take about five minutes for it to be ready. The warm water is so nice and soothing against his irritated skin, lulling some of the pain away. It's so tempting to just fall asleep there but he's not that disoriented yet, fever or no fever. But he does allow himself to be there for a few extra minutes before climbing out.

He emerges from the bathroom wearing a bathrobe and drying his hair on a towel]

It's free. There's a towel for you.

[chemex]

[He sits, while Akechi bathes, kind of spacing out staring at nothing at all. When Akechi emerges he startles a little, standing, and smiles at him.] Thanks. Um-- [He starts to reach out, and pauses.] Can. Can you humor me a second? [He wants to check your temperature, buddy.]

[murderingjustice]

[His brows knit into a frown. ]

What now?

[chemex]

[He telegraphs his movements carefully, stepping into his space and sliding his hand under Akechi's bangs to lay his palm across his forehead. He raises his other, gauging it against his own.]

...you're a little warm.

[murderingjustice]

[Akechi let's out a sigh at his statement. He's aware of his current state but really had hoped that Akira would have ignored it.]

Mm, yes. It seems like I might be getting a little feverish. I believe it can occur after breaking a bone and... exercising. It shouldn't be anything serious, so no reason for you to worry.

[chemex]

[He won't, but he won't make too big a deal of it, either. He watches him, nods, and steps away.]

Okay. Rest? I'll take a bath and be out in a bit. Um, do you... Should I give you space, or do you want me to hang out?

[murderingjustice]

[Oh. He feels a bit dumbfounded by that question.. Akechi had just somehow assumed that Akira was going to stay after everything they went through just now. Though, it makes sense want to put some space between them so that they can digest this day in a peace.

However. Akechi doesn't even realize that he's reaching out to grab Akira's wrist before he's carefully pulling him back to closer.]

Ah.. You can stay-

[chemex]

[He's startled, to say the least, but he moves with the tug on his wrist easily, like a moon to gravity.] ...okay. I just. I know I overstep a lot. I don't... want that.

Have an insomnia phone tag

[murderingjustice]

[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.

rip, felt

[chemex]

[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.

[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.]