[Maybe he shouldn't have encouraged Kurapika to ask questions, actually? Boy, where does he even start with this one...]
Hard to describe. Basically? It's a place shaped by the collective unconscious. It's like the world came together and unknowingly made a huge dungeon on another plane of existence.
[He didn't sign up for Q&A!! Is this the real reason why Akira is so reluctant to talk about himself? He needs more alcohol just to get through these nitty gritty explanations, but he nearly misses his mouth and pours the wine on his shoulder. He's already sloshed, sue him, but that's not slowing him down any.]
There's always risk involved, but you know me. I'm a risk-taker. I like the thrill of near-death experiences. They kinda...
[Akira brings the bottle to his mouth and mumbles the rest of that sentence into his wine. Kurapika doesn't need to hear the depths of his degeneracy.]
...Mmmmanyway, I get there using an app on my phone. It just appeared there one day.
[ Oh, but he can practically smell the degeneracy coming off of that statement, and he's drunk enough to shove at Akira's shoulder for it—precisely, the shoulder that almost got wine all over it. ]
Incredible story. You're so good at explaining things. I can picture it perfectly.
Shut up. You're so pedantic. And annoying. And hot.
[Thank god for alcohol. Akira's only vaguely aware of how embarrassment's scalding his cheeks. When Kurapika shoves him, Akira leans in and blows a fat raspberry on his cheek.]
[Akira flops back against the pillows and blankets with a whoosh of laughter. They're both lucky the bottle didn't break or spill all over the floor on impact.]
You did this to me. Now pay up. I demand reparations.
[Akira wraps his long noodly string bean legs around Kurapika's hips and yanks him. C'mere!!]
[ He merely frowns as Akira yanks him close, doing his best not to think about the fact that Akira's legs are around his hips of all places. It's fine. It's. Fine. ]
You don't have any right to have demands.
[ And so, he'll just petulantly wrap his arms around Akira's middle and shove his face into his shoulder.
[He can demand whatever he wants! Kurapika has no choice but to answer him honestly anyway. Akira's snickers give him away long before his words do, bottle set aside so he can smoosh Kurapika's cheeks in his hands and untuck that pretty face from his shoulder. No cheating now.]
[N'aww, that's okay. It's not the answer Akira was hoping for, but with the emotionally constipated Kurapika, it was to be expected. Akira smiles, warm and fond. Here, he'll help him out.]
[ It's hard to make Kurapika flush, but he certainly is now, a light dusting of pink cascading over his cheeks.
Akira really isn't going to let this go, is he? ]
Of course I do. [ God. He hates this wine for making that spill so easily past his lips. It takes him a moment to recover, to grab that bottle and tilt it so that more of the wine pours down his throat. ] But you know that isn't as easy for me to admit to as it is for you.
[Great, now his cheeks are all red again. Thanks a lot, asshole.]
What, you think it's easy for me to admit that? It's not. My hands get all clammy and I have to stop myself from thinking so I don't trip over my own tongue. If you rejected me, I'd probably cry.
[ Embarrassment is cute on Akira, enough so that he finds himself staring at his face for a little bit longer than usual before he turns his attention back to the wine bottle, examining its label.
If they weren't forced to spit out the truth right now, he wouldn't know whether or not to believe the bit about clammy hands, but... hm.
He didn't expect that. ]
So much for never telling me. How long were you going to last like that anyway?
[...Yeah, he can feel Kurapika's heart racing too. It pairs well with his own, beating so hard he can taste it in his throat.
Akira purses his lipsβ he'd rather not answer. Not like this where he's out of his depth, where he's in too deep, where he can't collect himself long enough to deliver his answer with any amount of grace.
All he has is raw, vulnerable honesty, and it's that honesty that's about to damn him. Can Kurapika feel how hot he's burning? Probably. Feeling so seen has never been as hard as it is right now.]
...Do I have to answer that?
[He's giving Kurapika an out. The option to keep their post-date shenanigans a light and easy affair. He should know, even if he's as emotionally dense as they come, that there's always a point of no return. Will he cross it?]
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Hard to describe. Basically? It's a place shaped by the collective unconscious. It's like the world came together and unknowingly made a huge dungeon on another plane of existence.
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And you can explore it without issue?
[ It's hard to conceptualize in full, but he thinks he gets it? ]
How do you get there?
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[He didn't sign up for Q&A!! Is this the real reason why Akira is so reluctant to talk about himself? He needs more alcohol just to get through these nitty gritty explanations, but he nearly misses his mouth and pours the wine on his shoulder. He's already sloshed, sue him, but that's not slowing him down any.]
There's always risk involved, but you know me. I'm a risk-taker. I like the thrill of near-death experiences. They kinda...
[Akira brings the bottle to his mouth and mumbles the rest of that sentence into his wine. Kurapika doesn't need to hear the depths of his degeneracy.]
...Mmmmanyway, I get there using an app on my phone. It just appeared there one day.
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Incredible story. You're so good at explaining things. I can picture it perfectly.
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[Thank god for alcohol. Akira's only vaguely aware of how embarrassment's scalding his cheeks. When Kurapika shoves him, Akira leans in and blows a fat raspberry on his cheek.]
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...Until Akira is blowing a raspberry on his cheek, and he pushes him away. ]
That's gross. What's wrong with you?
[ ... ]
Don't answer that. I don't want to hear it.
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You did this to me. Now pay up. I demand reparations.
[Akira wraps his long noodly string bean legs around Kurapika's hips and yanks him. C'mere!!]
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You don't have any right to have demands.
[ And so, he'll just petulantly wrap his arms around Akira's middle and shove his face into his shoulder.
Mmm. Nice and warm. ]
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[He can demand whatever he wants! Kurapika has no choice but to answer him honestly anyway. Akira's snickers give him away long before his words do, bottle set aside so he can smoosh Kurapika's cheeks in his hands and untuck that pretty face from his shoulder. No cheating now.]
Do you think I'm cute?
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Of course I do. [ ... ] Idiot.
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[A wittle kiss on the lips for his good, obedient Pika-chan~]
Do you think I'm... sexy?
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"Sexy" is a ridiculous word. I think you're attractive.
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[Sexy? It's a good word. Kurapika would sound cooler if he added it to his daily vernacular.]
If you could do anything to me, what would you do?
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That question all but makes him short circuit, and all he can do for several moments is give Akira a blank look. ]
I... don't really know.
[ A disappointing answer, probably, but it's an honest one. ]
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Would you kiss me?
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Obviously. You should know the answer to that by now.
[ And yet he relents anyway and answers. ]
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Lemme do you a favor and ask something less obvious. Do you want to touch me?
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I am right now.
[ But he knows, deep down, what Akira means here. ]
...
[ He tires to wriggle out of Akira's hold, reaching for one of those bottles of wine. ]
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No, not like this. Don't play dumb.
[narrator: but kurapika really was that dumb,]
I meant...
[...Akira leans up, whispering in Kurapika's ear.]
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Akira really isn't going to let this go, is he? ]
Of course I do. [ God. He hates this wine for making that spill so easily past his lips. It takes him a moment to recover, to grab that bottle and tilt it so that more of the wine pours down his throat. ] But you know that isn't as easy for me to admit to as it is for you.
[ For, you know, a floozy. ]
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What, you think it's easy for me to admit that? It's not. My hands get all clammy and I have to stop myself from thinking so I don't trip over my own tongue. If you rejected me, I'd probably cry.
[...]
And never tell you. Even though I'm telling you.
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If they weren't forced to spit out the truth right now, he wouldn't know whether or not to believe the bit about clammy hands, but... hm.
He didn't expect that. ]
So much for never telling me. How long were you going to last like that anyway?
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[Sassy, sassy...]
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[ And he's only sort of voiced them now, but they're out in the air and making his heart race. ]
You're a very forward person, after all.
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Akira purses his lipsβ he'd rather not answer. Not like this where he's out of his depth, where he's in too deep, where he can't collect himself long enough to deliver his answer with any amount of grace.
All he has is raw, vulnerable honesty, and it's that honesty that's about to damn him. Can Kurapika feel how hot he's burning? Probably. Feeling so seen has never been as hard as it is right now.]
...Do I have to answer that?
[He's giving Kurapika an out. The option to keep their post-date shenanigans a light and easy affair. He should know, even if he's as emotionally dense as they come, that there's always a point of no return. Will he cross it?]
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