[Akira leans down, smirk tight on his lips, but ah... Maybe Kurapika's intimidating. Just a little intimidating, managing to keep Akira from pushing his luck (4) just this once.]
[ He decides not to resist again, figuring it would be a waste of time. But... for just a moment, he briefly looks away, feeling embarrassment creep up again (4) as Akira leans in. ]
Seeing those eyes on someone like me usually means death.
[ Usually. But does he seem like the person who goes around and indiscriminately kills? ]
[...Ah. What is with these red-eyed bitches? Akira's not going anywhere, that momentary feeling of intimidation quickly passing (13). He's staying right where he is, the feathered ends of his bangs tickling the tip of Kurapika's nose.]
[ Akira's close, too too close, but he manages to keep his cool nevertheless (14). ]
For whoever sees them. [ He pauses. ] Or so the rumors say.
[ Because there are certainly rumors, as it comes with the territory of being a mafia boss. Gaining control over the Scarlet Eyes means that it's become a powerful tool to threaten and intimidate, and Kurapika has certainly made use of it. ]
I'm a lot pickier when it comes to who I actually hurt.
[Alas, Akira does not. He doesn't move any closer, no, but he doesn't have the gumption to press his luck and move any closer (9). The idea that doing so could go badly gives him pause. Lucky you, Kurapika.]
Fine enough, as long as you're not on an active suicide mission.
[ Haha, about that... but Kurapika knows when revealing information like that could go wrong, and so he doesn't. ]
Those responsible for killing my people.
[ In other words, revenge.
Kurapika takes this moment to flip their positions (20), using his legs to topple Akira over and climb onto him instead, pinning his wrists at his sides. ]
If you think I like enacting my revenge, however, you'd be wrong.
[ He doesn't know why he divulges that little piece of information. Maybe it's because he figures it's something Akira already knows, something he has inherently picked up from observing Kurapika in the time they've spent together.
[...Ah, fuck. Kurapika really does look good on top. Akira's no quitter and he's certainly no coward, but he has to shift his gaze off and away from Kurapika to keep his sanity in check (8). Don't ask him what his problem is.
Good thing, actually. Listening to Kurapika now, it's for the best he's aiming his hard scowl at the wall. Revenge... He never wants to hear that word again. God damn it.]
But you'll do it anyway. You've convinced yourself there's no other choice. No way forward.
[ He could call Akira out for being a coward and avoiding eye contact like this, or he could argue and reassert himself as the winner of this weird little "fight" they're in.
But the fight leaves him (1), and he lets go of Akira's wrists and sits back against his thighs. For a moment, he sits in silence and stares down at Akira, clearly contemplating something. ]
I don't have anyone to go back to, Akira. Everyone I know was killed. What else am I supposed to do, when I have no home to return to?
[ Sure, he has his friends, but he can't get them involved in this. That's the whole point of driving them away. ]
He's seen that look before. He knows what those eyes mean. They fester in Akira's gut like a sickness, the look of someone who's given up, their mission one that ends only in their demise.
Akira's failed once. What are the chances he'd succeed this time (7)?
Swallowing around a dry throat, Akira stares up at Kurapika, vague traces of fear, of doubt, of concern lingering in his gaze.]
Start over. That's what you do. Kurapika... you're the one who's decided your life is over. Don't you see that?
[ He doesn't get it. Why is Akira worried about him? Why is there concern and fear in his eyes? It twists something in him, and it's like that nausea from earlier in the evening comes back with a vengeance.
Kurapika frowns and shakes his head, trying to keep his cool, but ultimately failing (7). He grips onto the sheets on either side of Akira's shoulders, fingers creating waves in the fabric. ]
You make it sound easy, but you of all people should know it isn't. Didn't you have to restart? You know I can't just decide to do it and know that everything will work out.
You know I did. But since when is anything easy worth doing?
[Akira jerks hard, freeing his hands to reach up and grab Kurapika by the shoulders (16). Shaking him, yanking him closer. Look at me. If Akira lets himself look away now, he'll risk making the same mistake he did with Akechi. He can't do that. He won't do that.]
If you can bust your ass exacting revenge, you can put that same effort into letting yourself live. Don't be a stubborn ass. You're better than that.
[ Akira's grip on him is strong enough that Kurapika can't really fight against it (10), and that frustrates him in a way he can't quite pinpoint—or more like, a way he doesn't want to acknowledge. He's supposed to be in control, he's always supposed to be in control.
But it's not always easy, is it? Not when he's all but hit over the head with words he's been so desperate to hear, even though just hearing them at all knocks him so off-kilter that all he can do is twist that lack of balance into anger (1).
He grits his teeth, his eyes flashing a deep scarlet as all of the feelings he doesn't know what to do with stir painfully in his chest. ]
How do you know I'm better than that? How do you know I even deserve it, Akira? You don't know me as well as you think you do.
[ Or maybe, just maybe, Akira has a much better read on Kurapika than he had ever anticipated, and he doesn't know what to do with this. ]
[Those scarlet eyes... Kurapika wasn't kidding, humorless as he is, yet Akira still finds himself idling before them like a deer caught in high beams. They're beautiful. Terrifying. They're eyes Akira never thought he'd behold again, but here he is, given a second chance, or is this a reminder of his failures? Is this the price he pays for his ego, his every mistake?
He'd rather err on the side of the positive, and wouldn't Akira always? If his ego damns him again, so be it, but he can't watch another person condemn themselves to hell right in front of him. He can't fail again. Surely, no one is beyond saving. Surely.]
I can see it, plain as day. You try to hard to be someone you're not. You're not the monster you think you are.
[And no amount of thinking it is going to turn you into a beast that blindly seeks revenge. You can't throw away your human heart.
Akira leaves no room for retort, hands sliding up to frame Kurapika's face and jerk him into a kiss (15). Sorry.]
[ Firsts don't mean that much to Kurapika, not when he decided to forego caring at all about his own experiences in life for the sake of revenge. Even so... this is one hell of a first kiss. Leave it to someone like Akira to do something as stupid as kissing a Kurta while their eyes are red.
Kurapika wants to argue, wants to tell Akira that he's wrong, that maybe he wasn't a monster before, but he certainly is now. How could he not be after giving away so many pieces of himself?
Ah, but he can't say any of that, not when Akira's lips are pressed against his and he's warm, so warm that for just a second Kurapika's mind goes blank. He quickly recovers (18), however, his hands gripping onto Akira's shoulders and pushing him away, his eyes just as intensely red as they were moments ago. ]
You really think what I wanted right now was a kiss? Are you an idiot?
[ Of course Kurapika is aware of the possibility that Akira wanted to kiss him for the sake of it and not because he thought that was what Kurapika needed, but that thought is so terrifying that he doesn't want to voice it aloud.
So instead, he does something as equally stupid and tugs hard on Akira's collar, pulling him into another kiss. ]
[Oh, Kurapika. If you haven't yet learned that Akira laughs in the face of consequences, let this serve as a lesson.
All Akira expects in return for his audacity is a fist to the face and a friendship soured. Everything's lining up according to his expectations with Kurapika arresting him by the shoulders and shoving him back, but he—
He catches Akira completely off guard, so much so that he tenses, jerks when Kurapika tugs him into another kiss. Color him shocked, but more than anything, he's pleased. He knew Kurapika was a passionate person, that roaring inferno within him just barely contained. He should've known, then, how much he'd yearn for a moment like this.
Akira feels alive again, burning from the inside out, and he won't let Kurapika draw back. Looping his arms around his neck, Akira keeps Kurapika bound in a liplock (16). He won't be the one to end this. No, he'll leave the choice up to Kurapika, because god knows they'll both be feeling some kind of way about this in the morning.]
[ Part of him expected Akira to pull away completely and laugh this off as some sort of weird joke (like all of his other incredibly infuriating and unfunny jokes—at least to Kurapika), especially when he tenses. It's a natural reaction to a mistake, after all.
Then again, Akira is always throwing him for some sort of loop, taking a twist he doesn't expect, and when he loops his arms around Kurapika's neck, he gasps softly against his lips, completely caught off guard (4). This, too, is probably a mistake and Kurapika is well aware of it. He always takes into account the consequences of his actions, all of the possible ways the things he does can ripple out and impact his future and his goals—but sometimes his old self gets the better of him, acts impulsively and without much thought.
For what is undoubtedly a mistake, his heart certainly hammers in his chest and his fingers clumsily pull harder at Akira's shirt. Maybe it's not so bad, for things to fall outside of his carefully constructed plans, even if he'll have trouble looking Akira in the eye for a few days. ]
[Damn it, Kurapika, you're the one who's supposed to keep cool and act rationally so in situations like these. Akira can't be trusted to hold onto his inhibitions in a situation like this, content only to take what he's given and demand so, so much more.
At least he isn't alone in that bottomless hunger. A shame about all the fumbling (4), but that's what happens when you've only just realized how starved you've been for physical touch, for connection, for whatever this mess is that they've entangled themselves in.
Akira is no better at tugging off shirts than Kurapika is, but maybe they shouldn't be trying to strip each other at the same time? When they next break for air, Akira lifts his arms to accommodate Kurapika's eager fingers. Don't chicken out on him now.]
[ Akira's mouth is so pleasantly warm, his lips slotting perfectly against Kurapika's, that it's easy to get lost in the feeling of another person. He's held off from this simply out of a need to focus on his own goals, and the realization that he's been sorely missing out is hitting him a lot harder than he ever expected it to. Yet, he can't help but feel somewhere in the back of his mind that this is a feeling he should have allowed himself to feel at all.
He sits back, pink-cheeked and eyes still very much red, as Akira lifts his arms. Does he just... tug on his shirt? Is that how this goes? Is that the proper order to all of this? Kurapika reaches out to do just that when—
[That unexpected knocking against the door nearly shocks the soul right out of Akira's body. It's a miracle they didn't concuss each other after hearing that oddly unnerving rhythm, and when Akira sits up to see who, or rather what, is at the door...]
...Oh boy.
[Yamato, you fucker. Do you have any idea what your stupid vacuum just interrupted?
It's... fine, actually. They were getting carried away and wouldn't have stopped on their own accord, and within weeks of knowing each other, they shouldn't... y'know. Embarrass themselves by being this damn eager.
If it's all the same to Kurapika, Akira's just gonna scoot to the edge of the bed and straighten out his clothes. Talk about a close shave.]
Seriously? I'm surprised you haven't mauled that thing.
[ His eyes have cooled back to their usual brown by this point, but his cheeks are still flushed, Kurapika's body still radiating the heat that has already simmered down in his chest. For just a moment, he watches Akira straighten out his clothes, but it becomes too much and leaves him feeling so awkward that he looks away. ]
...Yamato cares about that thing, though, and I don't really mind him that much. He's not the worst person to share a floor with.
[No good. The mood's totally shot, and even if it wasn't, that damn robot has a lot of nerve... but if anyone's to blame here, it's Akira himself. He could've salvaged this, he thinks, but there's no turning back once he catches sight of the look on Kurapika's face.
Damn it. He fucked up big time.
Akira swings upright with a heave-ho and a guttering sigh, padding over to the window and tossing it open.]
Man, it's super stuffy in here. You need to do something about that.
[In reality, it's their own fault for stifling themselves in a layer of UST so thick they'd need a dehumidifier to get under control. Parking himself on the windowsill with his legs dangling in the breeze, Akira summons his broom beneath his feet.]
Anyway, I need some air. Good luck with your vacuum problem.
[He's an asshole for tucking tail and running. He knows he is. Nevertheless, Akira hops onto his broom and flies off into the starless night.]
[ He could say something to Akira, let him know that he doesn’t really need to leave, but he doesn’t. Instead, Kurapika watches in silence as Akira sits on the windowsill and summons his broom.
It isn’t until Akira has disappeared into the darkness that he lets out a breath, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. Briefly, he considers closing the window, but it really is stuffy in here, so he makes a beeline for his bed, flopping back onto it.
Maybe this is the best outcome anyway. Akira needs to learn his place and stay away from Kurapika, after all. He has no business trying to get in the way of his goals when they haven’t even known one another for that long, telling him that he deserves a new life.
As if Akira could ever know what Kurapika deserves.
He sighs, letting his eyes slip closed. This is a much easier end to his problems. This way, he doesn’t have to do the pushing away. ]
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Yeah? Why's that?
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[ He decides not to resist again, figuring it would be a waste of time. But... for just a moment, he briefly looks away, feeling embarrassment creep up again (4) as Akira leans in. ]
Seeing those eyes on someone like me usually means death.
[ Usually. But does he seem like the person who goes around and indiscriminately kills? ]
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Death for who?
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For whoever sees them. [ He pauses. ] Or so the rumors say.
[ Because there are certainly rumors, as it comes with the territory of being a mafia boss. Gaining control over the Scarlet Eyes means that it's become a powerful tool to threaten and intimidate, and Kurapika has certainly made use of it. ]
I'm a lot pickier when it comes to who I actually hurt.
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Fine enough, as long as you're not on an active suicide mission.
[Just like every other red-eyed bitch he knows.]
Then who do you choose to hurt?
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Those responsible for killing my people.
[ In other words, revenge.
Kurapika takes this moment to flip their positions (20), using his legs to topple Akira over and climb onto him instead, pinning his wrists at his sides. ]
If you think I like enacting my revenge, however, you'd be wrong.
[ He doesn't know why he divulges that little piece of information. Maybe it's because he figures it's something Akira already knows, something he has inherently picked up from observing Kurapika in the time they've spent together.
But really... he doesn't know. ]
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Good thing, actually. Listening to Kurapika now, it's for the best he's aiming his hard scowl at the wall. Revenge... He never wants to hear that word again. God damn it.]
But you'll do it anyway. You've convinced yourself there's no other choice. No way forward.
[You've condemned yourself to death.]
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But the fight leaves him (1), and he lets go of Akira's wrists and sits back against his thighs. For a moment, he sits in silence and stares down at Akira, clearly contemplating something. ]
I don't have anyone to go back to, Akira. Everyone I know was killed. What else am I supposed to do, when I have no home to return to?
[ Sure, he has his friends, but he can't get them involved in this. That's the whole point of driving them away. ]
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He's seen that look before. He knows what those eyes mean. They fester in Akira's gut like a sickness, the look of someone who's given up, their mission one that ends only in their demise.
Akira's failed once. What are the chances he'd succeed this time (7)?
Swallowing around a dry throat, Akira stares up at Kurapika, vague traces of fear, of doubt, of concern lingering in his gaze.]
Start over. That's what you do. Kurapika... you're the one who's decided your life is over. Don't you see that?
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Kurapika frowns and shakes his head, trying to keep his cool, but ultimately failing (7). He grips onto the sheets on either side of Akira's shoulders, fingers creating waves in the fabric. ]
You make it sound easy, but you of all people should know it isn't. Didn't you have to restart? You know I can't just decide to do it and know that everything will work out.
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[Akira jerks hard, freeing his hands to reach up and grab Kurapika by the shoulders (16). Shaking him, yanking him closer. Look at me. If Akira lets himself look away now, he'll risk making the same mistake he did with Akechi. He can't do that. He won't do that.]
If you can bust your ass exacting revenge, you can put that same effort into letting yourself live. Don't be a stubborn ass. You're better than that.
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But it's not always easy, is it? Not when he's all but hit over the head with words he's been so desperate to hear, even though just hearing them at all knocks him so off-kilter that all he can do is twist that lack of balance into anger (1).
He grits his teeth, his eyes flashing a deep scarlet as all of the feelings he doesn't know what to do with stir painfully in his chest. ]
How do you know I'm better than that? How do you know I even deserve it, Akira? You don't know me as well as you think you do.
[ Or maybe, just maybe, Akira has a much better read on Kurapika than he had ever anticipated, and he doesn't know what to do with this. ]
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He'd rather err on the side of the positive, and wouldn't Akira always? If his ego damns him again, so be it, but he can't watch another person condemn themselves to hell right in front of him. He can't fail again. Surely, no one is beyond saving. Surely.]
I can see it, plain as day. You try to hard to be someone you're not. You're not the monster you think you are.
[And no amount of thinking it is going to turn you into a beast that blindly seeks revenge. You can't throw away your human heart.
Akira leaves no room for retort, hands sliding up to frame Kurapika's face and jerk him into a kiss (15). Sorry.]
no subject
Kurapika wants to argue, wants to tell Akira that he's wrong, that maybe he wasn't a monster before, but he certainly is now. How could he not be after giving away so many pieces of himself?
Ah, but he can't say any of that, not when Akira's lips are pressed against his and he's warm, so warm that for just a second Kurapika's mind goes blank. He quickly recovers (18), however, his hands gripping onto Akira's shoulders and pushing him away, his eyes just as intensely red as they were moments ago. ]
You really think what I wanted right now was a kiss? Are you an idiot?
[ Of course Kurapika is aware of the possibility that Akira wanted to kiss him for the sake of it and not because he thought that was what Kurapika needed, but that thought is so terrifying that he doesn't want to voice it aloud.
So instead, he does something as equally stupid and tugs hard on Akira's collar, pulling him into another kiss. ]
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All Akira expects in return for his audacity is a fist to the face and a friendship soured. Everything's lining up according to his expectations with Kurapika arresting him by the shoulders and shoving him back, but he—
He catches Akira completely off guard, so much so that he tenses, jerks when Kurapika tugs him into another kiss. Color him shocked, but more than anything, he's pleased. He knew Kurapika was a passionate person, that roaring inferno within him just barely contained. He should've known, then, how much he'd yearn for a moment like this.
Akira feels alive again, burning from the inside out, and he won't let Kurapika draw back. Looping his arms around his neck, Akira keeps Kurapika bound in a liplock (16). He won't be the one to end this. No, he'll leave the choice up to Kurapika, because god knows they'll both be feeling some kind of way about this in the morning.]
no subject
Then again, Akira is always throwing him for some sort of loop, taking a twist he doesn't expect, and when he loops his arms around Kurapika's neck, he gasps softly against his lips, completely caught off guard (4). This, too, is probably a mistake and Kurapika is well aware of it. He always takes into account the consequences of his actions, all of the possible ways the things he does can ripple out and impact his future and his goals—but sometimes his old self gets the better of him, acts impulsively and without much thought.
For what is undoubtedly a mistake, his heart certainly hammers in his chest and his fingers clumsily pull harder at Akira's shirt. Maybe it's not so bad, for things to fall outside of his carefully constructed plans, even if he'll have trouble looking Akira in the eye for a few days. ]
no subject
At least he isn't alone in that bottomless hunger. A shame about all the fumbling (4), but that's what happens when you've only just realized how starved you've been for physical touch, for connection, for whatever this mess is that they've entangled themselves in.
Akira is no better at tugging off shirts than Kurapika is, but maybe they shouldn't be trying to strip each other at the same time? When they next break for air, Akira lifts his arms to accommodate Kurapika's eager fingers. Don't chicken out on him now.]
1/???
He sits back, pink-cheeked and eyes still very much red, as Akira lifts his arms. Does he just... tug on his shirt? Is that how this goes? Is that the proper order to all of this? Kurapika reaches out to do just that when—
A familiar object bumps at the door, getting stuck against the door jamb in a very strange rhythm. ]
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Picking up the roomba with a movement that can only be described as full of hate, he sets it back down just past his door. ]
Yamato is lucky I haven't thrown you out the window.
done
He clears his throat. ]
That happens often.
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...Oh boy.
[Yamato, you fucker. Do you have any idea what your stupid vacuum just interrupted?
It's... fine, actually. They were getting carried away and wouldn't have stopped on their own accord, and within weeks of knowing each other, they shouldn't... y'know. Embarrass themselves by being this damn eager.
If it's all the same to Kurapika, Akira's just gonna scoot to the edge of the bed and straighten out his clothes. Talk about a close shave.]
Seriously? I'm surprised you haven't mauled that thing.
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[ His eyes have cooled back to their usual brown by this point, but his cheeks are still flushed, Kurapika's body still radiating the heat that has already simmered down in his chest. For just a moment, he watches Akira straighten out his clothes, but it becomes too much and leaves him feeling so awkward that he looks away. ]
...Yamato cares about that thing, though, and I don't really mind him that much. He's not the worst person to share a floor with.
[ So Musashi gets to live another day. ]
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Damn it. He fucked up big time.
Akira swings upright with a heave-ho and a guttering sigh, padding over to the window and tossing it open.]
Man, it's super stuffy in here. You need to do something about that.
[In reality, it's their own fault for stifling themselves in a layer of UST so thick they'd need a dehumidifier to get under control. Parking himself on the windowsill with his legs dangling in the breeze, Akira summons his broom beneath his feet.]
Anyway, I need some air. Good luck with your vacuum problem.
[He's an asshole for tucking tail and running. He knows he is. Nevertheless, Akira hops onto his broom and flies off into the starless night.]
no subject
It isn’t until Akira has disappeared into the darkness that he lets out a breath, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. Briefly, he considers closing the window, but it really is stuffy in here, so he makes a beeline for his bed, flopping back onto it.
Maybe this is the best outcome anyway. Akira needs to learn his place and stay away from Kurapika, after all. He has no business trying to get in the way of his goals when they haven’t even known one another for that long, telling him that he deserves a new life.
As if Akira could ever know what Kurapika deserves.
He sighs, letting his eyes slip closed. This is a much easier end to his problems. This way, he doesn’t have to do the pushing away. ]