[the frustration returns, bubbling irritatingly in the pit of his stomach. his grip on Akechi's face tightens, but only minutely. it's not painful, just. firm]
You are so fucking stupid.
[and with that. . . he uses his grip on Akechi's face to pull him forward so he can kiss him again, just as rough and agitated as earlier. I'm sorry. this thread continues to be a blight on this game]
Whatever he was going to say in response to that is lost the moment Akira pulls him into another kiss. Once again, he stills for a moment, completely floored... And then he starts kissing him back, just as roughly. One of his hands reaches up to clutch Akira's shirt, fist pressing against his chest like he can't decide whether to shove him away or not.
.......... This thread is very cursed and if we bad end, we will absolutely deserve it.]
[NEWS FLASH THE GAME IS GOING TO BAD END BECAUSE AKIRA AND AKECHI KISSED. TWICE]
[Akira can't really say what he expected, but this kind of reciprocation was-- absolutely not it. he makes a sort of surprised noise as Akechi's hand fists into his shirt, and for a moment it almost looks like he's going to pull back--]
[but he doesn't. he presses into it, his own kisses without any finesse whatsoever, just as awkward and clumsy and demanding as the first]
[he hooks an arm around the back of Akechi's neck, as though trying to prevent him from pulling away, too]
[But will the house even want to vore them after this curse they have unleashed? Apparently yes.
Teenagers are a mistake, and this is very... messy. And sloppy. And it's clear that Akechi is going on about this in the same way that he would go on about beating the shit out of Akira, rough and terrible and lacking in any tenderness. His hand remains fisted into his shirt, and the other reaches up to tangle itself in his hair. It's not a painful grip — until a moment later, when Akechi uses it to try and pull Akira away from him as he breaks the kiss.]
—Wait.
[... A little hoarse. The fuck was that, my dude.]
[don't ask him questions he doesn't know the answer to???]
[the grip is painful enough that Akira is pulled away easily, and he lets out a sharp exhale as the kiss is abruptly cut off. he seems a bit dazed-- at least for a second or two before he pulls himself together, nose wrinkled and brows furrowed]
[his arm remains hooked around Akechi's neck]
What?
[his response is also hoarse, like his voice is being filtered through smoke]
... And diverts his gaze, eyebrows furrowed like he's struggling to find the right words to say. It takes him a moment before he meets his eyes again, his hands staying right where they are.]
What are we doing?
[He is still very ??? over the first kiss, and the second one is not making matters any more clear.]
[Akira's response isn't immediate, his pinched features smoothing out almost immediately. he catches Akechi's gaze with his own and blinks a few times, his own mouth opening then closing again in a stunning mimicry of Akechi's uncertainly earlier]
[what. . . is he doing. . .? what are they doing? isn't he just. . . making things more complicated? tangling them up even more than they were before until the lines of their relationship-- whatever it may be-- are so blurred that he can't tell if they're friends or enemies or not-quite-friends-but-not-quite-enemies or something else? he wanted to prove a point, not seek out something permanent, but he isn't sure that point has gotten through Akechi's stupidly thick skull yet, and--]
With that, Akechi releases his grip on him, one of his hands reaching up to the arm still hooked around his neck. He takes hold of Akira's wrist, firmly but not enough to be painful.]
I see. Then, let's end this here.
[Because, regardless of whatever the heck Akira intended, things are complicated enough as they are without adding this to the mix. They have greater things to worry about right now.]
[for a moment, it looks like Akira is about to resist, but. . .]
[. . .]
[What am I doing? What do I want? . . . isn't there someone else--?]
[. . .]
[he draws his arm away, releasing Akechi fully, his expression quickly closing off. but before it does so, there's a flicker of something, a mixture of disappointment. . .]
[and understanding that maybe, probably, this is for the best]
[There's a flicker of... something, when it seems like Akira is about to resist, but it's there and gone in a second. Once Akira draws his arm away, Akechi lifts himself back up to his feet, readjusts his clothes, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He then glances at where the notebook still sits on the floor, expression unreadable.
...]
I'll see you tomorrow.
[Don't mind him as he proceeds to head towards the door. Bye.]
[stop him, Akira thinks to himself, don't let him just walk away--]
[but despite the way those words echo in his mind, he doesn't move from his position on the floor, doesn't tear his gaze away from Akechi's back as he walks away, doesn't open his mouth to say anything at all. and when Akechi is gone, he just]
[sort of flops over onto his back, arms splayed at his sides, as he stares at the ceiling like a man staring into the abyss]
[WHAT CAN OF WORMS DID HE UNWITTINGLY RELEASE. . .]
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no subject
[the frustration returns, bubbling irritatingly in the pit of his stomach. his grip on Akechi's face tightens, but only minutely. it's not painful, just. firm]
You are so fucking stupid.
[and with that. . . he uses his grip on Akechi's face to pull him forward so he can kiss him again, just as rough and agitated as earlier. I'm sorry. this thread continues to be a blight on this game]
no subject
[Well.
Whatever he was going to say in response to that is lost the moment Akira pulls him into another kiss. Once again, he stills for a moment, completely floored... And then he starts kissing him back, just as roughly. One of his hands reaches up to clutch Akira's shirt, fist pressing against his chest like he can't decide whether to shove him away or not.
.......... This thread is very cursed and if we bad end, we will absolutely deserve it.]
no subject
[Akira can't really say what he expected, but this kind of reciprocation was-- absolutely not it. he makes a sort of surprised noise as Akechi's hand fists into his shirt, and for a moment it almost looks like he's going to pull back--]
[but he doesn't. he presses into it, his own kisses without any finesse whatsoever, just as awkward and clumsy and demanding as the first]
[he hooks an arm around the back of Akechi's neck, as though trying to prevent him from pulling away, too]
no subject
Teenagers are a mistake, and this is very... messy. And sloppy. And it's clear that Akechi is going on about this in the same way that he would go on about beating the shit out of Akira, rough and terrible and lacking in any tenderness. His hand remains fisted into his shirt, and the other reaches up to tangle itself in his hair. It's not a painful grip — until a moment later, when Akechi uses it to try and pull Akira away from him as he breaks the kiss.]
—Wait.
[... A little hoarse. The fuck was that, my dude.]
no subject
[the grip is painful enough that Akira is pulled away easily, and he lets out a sharp exhale as the kiss is abruptly cut off. he seems a bit dazed-- at least for a second or two before he pulls himself together, nose wrinkled and brows furrowed]
[his arm remains hooked around Akechi's neck]
What?
[his response is also hoarse, like his voice is being filtered through smoke]
no subject
Closes it.
Opens it again.
... And diverts his gaze, eyebrows furrowed like he's struggling to find the right words to say. It takes him a moment before he meets his eyes again, his hands staying right where they are.]
What are we doing?
[He is still very ??? over the first kiss, and the second one is not making matters any more clear.]
no subject
[Akira's response isn't immediate, his pinched features smoothing out almost immediately. he catches Akechi's gaze with his own and blinks a few times, his own mouth opening then closing again in a stunning mimicry of Akechi's uncertainly earlier]
[what. . . is he doing. . .? what are they doing? isn't he just. . . making things more complicated? tangling them up even more than they were before until the lines of their relationship-- whatever it may be-- are so blurred that he can't tell if they're friends or enemies or not-quite-friends-but-not-quite-enemies or something else? he wanted to prove a point, not seek out something permanent, but he isn't sure that point has gotten through Akechi's stupidly thick skull yet, and--]
[. . . and. . .]
[. . .]
I don't-- [. . .] I don't know.
no subject
With that, Akechi releases his grip on him, one of his hands reaching up to the arm still hooked around his neck. He takes hold of Akira's wrist, firmly but not enough to be painful.]
I see. Then, let's end this here.
[Because, regardless of whatever the heck Akira intended, things are complicated enough as they are without adding this to the mix. They have greater things to worry about right now.]
no subject
No, I--
[for a moment, it looks like Akira is about to resist, but. . .]
[. . .]
[What am I doing? What do I want? . . . isn't there someone else--?]
[. . .]
[he draws his arm away, releasing Akechi fully, his expression quickly closing off. but before it does so, there's a flicker of something, a mixture of disappointment. . .]
[and understanding that maybe, probably, this is for the best]
no subject
...]
I'll see you tomorrow.
[Don't mind him as he proceeds to head towards the door. Bye.]
no subject
[but despite the way those words echo in his mind, he doesn't move from his position on the floor, doesn't tear his gaze away from Akechi's back as he walks away, doesn't open his mouth to say anything at all. and when Akechi is gone, he just]
[sort of flops over onto his back, arms splayed at his sides, as he stares at the ceiling like a man staring into the abyss]
[WHAT CAN OF WORMS DID HE UNWITTINGLY RELEASE. . .]