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Akira wishes he could just make Ryuji understand. The past year has felt too short and too long; whimsical and freeing and soul crushing all at once. A collection of adrenaline fueled celebrations and hushed, whispered heart-to-hearts in the middle of the night- what could've been, and what could be. Tokyo was a flurry of lights and sounds that completely and utterly swept Akira off of his feet; dragging him into the chaotic hustle and bustle of the city- into the damaged hearts of its residents, and the rotten corruption that gnawed at its core. It was a whirlwind of unforgettable bonds forged through desperation and tentative hope.
And it started with Ryuji and him in the rain.
Well. Akira knows better than that; strings pulling him along like a puppet in a show, flitting him this way and that until the encore; the raucous applause. The confrontation with Shido. The probation. The convenient, nonexistent degrees of separation between everyone involved with getting him to spend those days in Tokyo in that dusty attic. The more he learned, the more it became apparent to him. By the time Mementos bled into their reality, it became a matter of fact; adults using people below them as pawns to be passed around and discarded for their own personal gain- A God using the people below them as pawns to be passed around and discarded for their own personal gain.
Akira was never really big on that kind of stuff; horoscopes and astrology and all of that. Reading the stars; to have your life dictated by the whims of some outside force completely outside of your control- it just didn't sit well with him.
Despite this-
He saw the appeal; appreciated it firsthand. Because yes, the idea of fate, something destined to be, love at first sight, felt too silly, too unrealistic, and too painful to think about. To have your future laid out bare; analyzed and cherry-picked before you had a chance to even experience it; it sounds…sad. Boring, even.
But there is something a bit exhilarating about knowing that, whatever his thoughts on the matter were, something pulled him to Shido, something pulled him to this exact school in Tokyo, something pulled the both of them, already so wary and untrusting of others, to band together and trust each other without question…Akira has a hard time not believing in fate after all of that. And he wishes he were better equipped to relay that same kind of fascination and wonder to Ryuji.
Akiras the one who punched Shido. Akiras the one who almost landed in juvie because of it. Akiras the one who moped his way over to Shujin on his first day of probation. But Ryuji was the one who activated the Nav App. Ryujis the one who metaphorically held this stranger's hand in the rain. Ryujis the one who almost died trying to protect him, a nobody, and Ryujis the reason Arsène awakens in a flurry of frightening, wicked, blue flames.
Ryuji, Ryuji, Ryuji; it's a mantra in Akiras head, repeated over and over again with a level of reverence Akiras seemingly only reserved for the delinquent himself. It's Ryuji; it's always been him, it's always had to be him. The thieves, the change of hearts, Satanael- none of it would've been possible without Ryuji. Whether Fate truly did bring them together; whether it was Yaldabaoth pulling the strings independently, or something else pulling the False God's strings- puppeteering the puppeteer- is something Akira will never know.
What he does know, for certain, is that Ryuji was the catalyst; the reason for Akira going above and beyond for a city that initially scared and intimidated him- he's the reason Akira was able to look at damaged, hopeful hearts like his own, and jump into action. And that, if fate truly set him up to fulfill some kind of destined role, that it knew exactly what it was doing dropping someone like Ryuji directly in his path from the very beginning; to give him someone that he would choose and fall over for again and again and again, even without the bonds of fate lording over his life.
“I mean it, Ryuji.” The tone is fond; soft in a way Akira only reserves for him and their talks. Fond, in a way that leaves the corners of his eyes creased in a soft, easy smile. Fond, in the way that leaves Ryuji breathless, stomach flipping and spinning this way and that. The tips of his ears burn hot, and he can only imagine how red the apple of his cheeks are under Akiras gaze. Piercing; as if he's looking right through the tough skin and walls he's tried, and miserably failed at, building up, eyes staring directly into his core. It's dizzying and electrifying. He wants more; more of whatever this feeling is. He settles for anxiously thrumming his good leg against the creaky attic floors instead.
Ryuji looks at his hand, then back at Akira. His nerves are frayed and hes almost embarrassed by it.
“Its…I-Its alot-“
“I'm sure.”
Akira's smile turns a bit playful. Ryuji can feel himself being picked clean, eyes frighteningly analytical in contrast to the lax, almost teasing look in his posture. He has no idea if his face will ever cool down at this rate.
“Never really believed in that crap, yeah? My mom talks about signs n shit but that just flew over me. Never interested in it.”
“Same here.” Akira admits, quietly.
“So like. Hearing you say that shit is just…I mean. There's a whole ‘lotta shit you aint tell us about the jail-“
“-Velvet Room.”
“-yeah that. And like. It sounds like a lot. Sounds like there was a lot more going on than I thought. But you wouldn't lie to us- wouldn't lie to me. And even though I think that crap is like. Kinda bullshit- like the signs n shit; I believe you.”
Ryuji has to look away from Akira's smile; he thinks he'd faint if he stared at it for too long. He rambles on to distract himself.
“Like. I told you; id stay up late thinkin’ about everything. Like all of this shit felt so unreal yanno? You just…bulldozed your way into my fucking life and changed everything for the better. Like,” Ryuji sighs, running a hand through his dry, rough spikes, “it just didn't make any sense man. After everything that happened, it just felt too good to be true.”
Akira's eyes widen a bit. “What was…” the rest of the sentence is mouthed, almost as if Akira couldn't catch the words coming out of his mouth in time. But the unspoken question is laid out in front of them, and-
“You.” tumbles out of Ryuji's traitorous mouth before his brain could stop it. “L-Like. Everything about you man; so freakin’ unbelievable y'know? Can't even describe it. Just that…everything we did as thieves was because of you; everything i got to do was because of you…my friends, my grades, my life…I feel like…I didn't deserve any of that, man.”
Ryuji comes back from his thoughts to Akira sitting far closer to him than he was earlier. There's a look in his eyes; determined, like he was attempting to break down, analyze, and problem solve all in one fell swoop.
“Didn't deserve it?”
Ryuji opens his mouth to retort, but Akira cuts him off immediately. He leans into Ryujis space, eyes locked on; unblinking.
“What if I said you deserved it?” Ryuji's eyes comically widen. “ ‘wouldn't lie to us; wouldn't lie to me. Even if that crap IS kinda bullshit, I believe you.’ ” Hearing his own words parroted back to him sounds strange. Akira's eyes are no longer piercing through him, they're searching. “I think im allowed to be a little. Indulgent. I'd like to believe that I'm deserving of these good things, and that something led me here to enjoy these good things. With you.”
Ryuji's mouth snaps closed, heart racing so loudly he can hear the blood rushing in his ears.
“And I think it would be unfair to enjoy these good things, when the person who made it all possible feels like he's undeserving of it. Because he does deserve it; deserves it as much as all of us.”
Ryuji has to turn away; there's something painful and heavy weighing down in his chest that threatens to make him ill, and he realizes, belatedly, that its because he wants to cry, and that's the last thing he wants to do in front of Akira. What do you mean he's deserving of this? That Akira is the one telling him so? He knows he's shit at school and his grades suck ass, but he's not stupid. And he knows what Akira means; understands the subtext between the spoken words. ‘It's not too good to be true; you get to have this, you get to have me, if you want. You get to be happy and enjoy good things and you get to do that with me, if you'll allow it’ and with all of his heart, Ryuji would allow it.
Akira tentatively reaches forwards, hand ghosting over Ryujis for a second before laying it against him, grasping it lightly. His head is still turned away, but he dares to peek at their joined hands before setting his eyes on Akira’s. Determined. Jaw clenched a bit, like he'd do when he was mentally weighing the options around him in the metaverse; brain chewing on the possibilities, outcomes and fallouts of an extremely brash decision he's about to make. Ryuji doesn't get to ponder about Akiras possible thoughts for long; there's lips against his cheek, and the wires in his brain snap, pop, and fizzle out.
Akira pulls back barely a second later, eyes still burning with a determination Ryujis always found himself drawn to. He can't help it; his hand flies up to his cheek, red blooming over the bridge of his nose now.
“D-dude-“
Akira crowds into his space, until he's practically kneeling on Ryujis lap. Despite the sure look in his eyes, his posture, he can feel Akira's body trembling slightly- see the swell of his adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly, uncharacteristically nervous.
“Akira-“
“Do I need to make myself clearer?” He says, the deep timbre of his voice making the hairs on the back of Ryuji's neck bristle; faint chills making their way from the base of his skull to the small of his back. Akira was going to give him a heart attack.
“N-no. I mean. I mean yeah, I-I just-“ Ryuji grits his teeth, frustrated, “-I don't get it man, don't get how you can just say that shit. Like. Why me, of all fuckin’ people man…”
He's aware that that doesn't deny his feelings at all. And if he's aware of it, then he knows Akira has already begun to act accordingly because of it. Slowly, with the same kind of determined intent from earlier, he moves to cup Ryuji's jaw in his hands, leaning forward to softly press their lips together.
Ryuji's heart roaring in his ears is quieted by Akira's thumbs rubbing circles along the base of his cheeks. Slow, soothing motions that do an absurdly good job of calming down Ryuji's frayed nerves. Akira smiles into the kiss when he feels Ryuji's hands weakly grasp at his wrists, and Ryuji feels like he's going to implode. He felt Akira smile against him.
When Akira pulls away, the fire in his eyes has waned slightly, replaced with the fondness Ryuji saw earlier.
“I-…” Akira pauses, thinking so loud, Ryuji's sure he can hear the gears turning. His thumbs are still rubbing circles along the slope of Ryuji's jawline, eyes never looking away.
“I'll repeat it over and over for you. If that's what it takes. If…if I have to make it clear for you every time; every time you doubt yourself, that's okay. Ill be more than happy to remind you.”
Ryuji stares, mouth clamped shut lest he risk it gaping, comically, like a fish. It's just…so unbelievable. To even think of someone like him getting someone like Akira dropped into his life. He's unsure about all that fate shit, but Akira isn't, and even in its raw form, the act of Akira confessing that he believes he was made for Ryuji and vice versa is almost too much to bear. To feel so wanted, so loved- to feel like a speck in whatever the grand plan of the universe might be and still have that universe say you belong together.
Maybe it's luck. Maybe it IS fate. Regardless, it's overwhelming. Overwhelming in a good way, he supposes; in the way it makes his body shake and tremble with barely contained energy, like the aftershocks of a good Ziodyne racing through his battle worn limbs. Every brush of Akira’s thumbs against his skin is electrifying and grounding, exciting and comforting all at once. He wills his hands to reciprocate, grazing his thumbs against the back of Akira’s hands, committing every little touch to his memory. Akira's small smile emboldens him.
“Um,” Ryuji cant even try to hide the smile creeping up on his face, “I think i can do with a little reminder right now, actually.”
Akira snorts, smiling hard enough to show teeth, a bit of a rare sight for anyone, even Ryuji.
“Yeah?” Akira momentarily stops his ministrations to, instead, curl his fingers along the underside of Ryujis jaw, gently grazing his nails against the barely there pricks of hair lining it. The motion makes Ryuji jerk in his seat, cheeks going red at his sudden reaction. Christ, this man was going to be the death of him.
Realizing he hadn't actually answered Akira, too busy focusing on the hands cradling his face, he nods. His hands drop, lowering to wrap around Akira midsection. He forces his breathing to stay even as Akira properly climbs into his lap, straddling his legs, and using his weight to effectively trap Ryuji against the couch. From this position, he has to peer upwards to look Akira in the eyes. His breathing may be fine, but his heart is thumping again, loud and insistent like a mouse caught in a trap.
Almost as if Akira could feel the thrumming himself, he returns to the soft, soothing circles against the base of Ryujis cheeks.
“Youre going to spoil me if you continue to make me uphold my end of the bargain like this.”
A laugh is ripped out of Ryuji's mouth before he can even think, a combination of uncontained joy and nervous energy bubbling to the surface. “I dunno man, feels like I'm the one getting spoiled.”
Akira's eyes crinkle in delight.
“Good.”
This one feels more like a real ‘kiss’, mouth languidly moving against his own as Akira's hands slide over his shoulders; thumbs massaging the soft muscle where his neck and clavicle meet. A low, barely audible groan reverberates from Ryuji's throat without his consent, unable to hide how pleased he is with the attention. There's a small, airy huff dangerously close to a laugh against his lips, and Akira ends the kiss with a smile before pulling away. Hands immediately return to the underside of Ryuji's jaw, nails grazing against the slope of it.
His eyes are alight with an array of emotions, and again, Ryuji can pinpoint the fondness, the mirth; the endearment for the blond laid plain across his face. It's insane to know that it's reserved for him. Never in his life would he have believed this to be something he'd earn. Akira's smile is going to be seared into his memory, his dreams, with how much he's being made privy to it.
“Ain't never see you smile this much man.”
Akira doesn't pause at all. He merely tilts his head.
“I'm just…happy. And grateful. For a lot of things. I deserve it.”
He leans forward and presses a kiss to Ryuji's forehead.
“And you deserve it, too.”