Work Text:
Leblanc always smells amazing. It pisses him off.
Akechi sat at the bar, nursing a cup of coffee. It was supposed to last him until Kurusu returned home, but he had been sitting here for nearly an hour. The remaining dregs were ice cold, and Akechi found himself swirling it around the cup absentmindedly, occasionally glancing towards the door. Sojiro had long stopped asking if he wanted a refill, and instead would follow the detective's gaze to the door whenever he snuck a glance.
"I'm sure he'll be home soon," Sojiro had assured Akechi.
"Oh, no, I just enjoy the atmosphere here," he lied, giving the man a polite princely smile, "I'm surprised this place isn't always full, Boss. Your coffee…" It's fantastic. "It's like nothing else I've ever tasted in this city."
Sojiro chuckled, turning away to give the curry a stir. "Tell that to more people, maybe I'll actually make rent this month," he joked in return. "Though on the other hand, I do like the quiet."
Akechi was ready to reply when the bell for the door rang. He turned to glance at it, feeling his posture shift as Kurusu stepped inside, bag hanging on his shoulder.
"I'm home," he called, setting the bag down in one of the empty booths. The bizarre talking cat poked its head out to regard the three. Silent, for now.
"Welcome back," Sojiro offered over his shoulder.
"Hey Akechi-kun," Kurusu greeted, sliding into the seat next to him, "Here for an evening coffee?" He leaned on the counter, resting his cheek in his hand and peering up at Akechi through his glasses.
"Long day," Akechi sighed in return, "I've been out all day with work, but I think I can finally take a break."
In all honesty, this meetup was work too. The more he broke down Kurusu's walls, the easier it would be to join them when the Phantom Thieves were at their lowest, and the easier it would be to exploit them later. Tonight was vital — as much as he loathed it. Sharing vulnerable details about oneself was a way to garner trust, and he was sure the empathetic Akira would be touched by his forthcomingness.
"I hope you aren't planning anything strenuous tonight yourself, Kurusu-kun…?" He asked innocently.
"Not much," Kurusu answered with a shrug of one shoulder.
"Perhaps we could talk over some of Boss's coffee?" It was a bit forward of an invitation, so he tempered it with a shy tone, tucking some of his hair behind his ear. Vulnerable, make him want to help you.
From by the sink, Sojiro called over. "Not that I'm complaining, but if you two are so tired, maybe you could use a bath more than a cup of coffee," he suggested, beginning to wash a mug, "I mean, there's a bathhouse right there."
Akechi's smile tightened. This wasn't the plan. Yes, he intended to come here later in the evening when he was sure there wouldn't be other patrons, for that intimate heart-to-heart time, but a public bath might not be conducive. Especially considering his choice of topic…
"Oh, yeah, it's great, sometimes they have herbal soaks, and there's a vending machine outside that's super cheap," Kurusu grinned, straightening up. "I feel like I sweat through my shirt today with the heat," he added, fanning himself with his hand.
Akechi was nothing if not quick on his feet. This was just a change of scenery, nothing more. "A bathhouse? That doesn't sound…too bad," he managed to swallow some of the reluctance in his tone, but clearly not all of it, as Kurusu seemed to regard him just a bit closer. Regain control of the situation, Goro. "Want to come with me, Kurusu-kun? I'd appreciate if you could show me the way."
"Of course, it's a really complicated route there so you'll need a guide," Kurusu smirked, pushing back from the chair and standing.
"Oh…really?" Akechi replied, eyebrows raising. "In that case, I suppose I'll take you and Boss up on that suggestion."
Akira laughed, and Akechi wasn't sure what that was in respect to, but he smiled and chuckled in return, mirroring the mood. "Lemme just grab my toiletries," Kurusu turned on his heel and jogged up the stairs. Akechi could hear the footsteps above them. He drained the last of his coffee, then pushed the cup away and stood himself.
When was the last time he had used a public bath? Not for some years, and definitely not when he could avoid it.
Akechi picked up his briefcase, feeling the leather of his gloves creak as he tightened his grip on the handle. He could be chill and casual about this. Maybe the setting will make talking about his family life a bit more heart-wrenching for Kurusu. Maybe this was a good development, not a disastrous start to an already nerve-wracking setup.
-
"Ah," Akechi raises his brows, now understanding what Kurusu was laughing about. The two stand in front of the bathhouse, literally steps out the door on the opposite side of the street.
"Figured an eagle-eyed detective would have noticed this place," Kurusu teased, nudging Akechi in the side with his elbow.
"It's rather tucked away," Akechi restrained himself from letting any bitterness seep into his voice, "I'm considering it a pleasant surprise rather than a failing on my part."
Akira snorted, then pushed his toiletries and towels into Akechi's hands so he could open the door for the two of them. Akechi looked down at the plastic tub, ready to resign himself to whatever 3 in 1 nonsense Kurusu used. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised to see separate shampoo and conditioner, as well as a small bag for skincare that rivalled his own.
"Sorry, it's for curly hair," Kurusu added apologetically, nodding to the shampoo, "But it's all I've got."
Akechi walked into the bathhouse, taking it in as he spoke. "Oh, no, that's alright. I was just surprised to see you have such a diligent skincare regimen."
The sento wasn't huge; it was narrow to fit between the other buildings in Yongen-Jaya, though tonight it appeared deserted. Akira kicked off his shoes and walked ahead, claiming a locker for the two of them.
"Thought you were the only one?" He asked in response, folding up his glasses and tucking them into the locker.
Akechi worked hard to make it look like everything he did was effortless. Being called out so casually for putting work in was infuriating. Despite this, he smothered those feelings with a polite smile.
"Well, it helps offset some of the makeup I have done for TV," he explained, "And I often find myself given gifts at events. I don't think I've paid for my own moisturizer in a while," he chuckled.
Kurusu indulged his excuses, peeling off his shirt. Akechi knew Akira was fit. He was a Phantom Thief, after all. He'd watched him climb up buildings and flip over shadows. It was another thing to actually see his body. It was amazing how much his school uniform and even his Phantom Thief outfit hid his toning.
"Akechi?" Kurusu looked up at him, halfway through undoing his fly, "Are you going in fully clothed?" The teasing pulled Akechi out of his gaze, which he returned to Akira's face, berating himself silently for betraying his thoughts so readily with his staring.
"A-apologies," Akechi said, turning around as he removed his jacket. No excuse came to him, to his frustration. Instead he just silently undressed, facing away from Akira. This definitely added another layer of difficulty to his already tenuous plan. Akechi had intended to be vulnerable, and here Kurusu was literally stripping next to him. How is it possible to be outdone at every turn? He thought angrily.
A towel brushed his arm, Kurusu holding it out to him. Akechi plucked it from his hands and held it modestly over himself, turning to face the Phantom Thief with another pleasant smile, "Thank you, Kurusu-kun."
The other boy gave him a smile in return. Akechi was struck by how different Kurusu looked without his glasses. They took up so much of his face usually, at least what wasn't already covered by curly black hair. Kurusu's eyes were a startling smokey grey, framed by soft lashes that gave him an almost feminine charm, but more so Akechi noticed their intensity — something dampened by the oversized frames.
The two walked towards the showers, and Akechi found himself talking before his mind had a chance to catch up.
"Have you ever considered wearing contact lenses, Kurusu-kun?"
Akira paused, looking back at Akechi, brows raised. "Not really. Why?"
The question made him hesitate. Why did he ask?
"Well, I think sometimes you hide behind your glasses," Akechi answered with a thoughtful hum.
Akira stared at Akechi for a moment, then turned around and laughed with a shrug. "I like being able to see," he retorted, leading the two to a spot and setting the toiletries between the two of them. "Besides, there isn't really much behind them anyways."
Akechi sat down next to Kurusu on one of the stools, turning on the water and beginning to fill one of the nearby buckets.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Kurusu-kun," he responds, watching the water level begin to fill, "Your face, of course?"
"If you wanted to see my face so badly, you could have just asked," Akira grinned in return. However, he pinched some of his bangs between his fingers while he spoke, something Akechi had noted as a nervous habit. Perhaps he is self-conscious about some aspect of himself, Akechi mused.
-
"Ahh, this feels wonderful," Akechi sighed as the two soaked in the bath. He let himself slump down until his shoulders were covered, the tips of his hair floating on the water, "It's been a while."
"A while, huh?" Kurusu echoed, shrugging his shoulders back and resting his arms on the edge of the bath.
Akechi considered how long it really had been. "Years," he answers, "I used to frequent one when I was younger."
There's a bit of silence between them, the sound of a tap dripping echoing through the empty room. He isn't biting, Akechi thought bitterly, Push further.
"Of course these days I'm the Detective Prince," he continued with a self-conscious laugh, "but my family situation was… well… complicated." Akechi shut his eyes, lowering himself a bit further into the water, almost up to his nose. This was the plan, he had prepared himself to talk about this, but the urge to hide welled up inside of him.
He heard the water splashing, and opened his eyes to see Kurusu shifting closer, giving his full attention. Akechi felt the weight of those intense eyes on him, and the bath felt like ice water.
"Complicated?" Kurusu asked, his voice quieter despite being the only two here. Akechi had never hated being seen so much before.
"Mmm," he raised himself out of the water a bit again, the water dripping down his cheeks and chin. Akechi's gaze shifted, looking back at the entrance to the baths, scanning for anyone who might enter at this moment, cut off this train of thought, abort this mission—
"By the time I was old enough to realize it, my father was already gone," he continued, this part at least automatic, rehearsed in his head several times on the subway here. "My mother was all I had." It came out detached, more so than he intended to. This was supposed to be in his softer Prince voice, but as much as he tried, he couldn't force the words to sound the way he wanted to.
"My mother worked at a nightclub," he continued, breezing through the lines as if speaking them was all he knew how to do, "Whenever she brought a man home, she'd send me off to the local bathhouse." His gaze drifted down, and he found himself moving his hands absentmindedly through the water like he used to as a child. Seeing his body through the water, distorted and strange, not feeling like his own. It was the same then too.
This wasn't supposed to get to you, Goro, he berated himself mentally, You went over this so many times.
"…You've been through a lot," Akira said softly. Akechi found himself looking up at him again, a renewed sense of purpose as the other boy returned to the script.
"It's in the past," Akechi assured him, smiling a little, pushing his hair out of his face, "I have no reason to blame her either." The smile slipped into a grimace as he continued. "The only one who deserves blame is my father. The worthless—" he dropped his hand into the bath with some force, "degenerate excuse for a man who abandoned my mother." It was almost relieving to express how he really felt; this small pocket of truth in a life of lies. Releasing some steam before the kettle boils.
"I wanted to force him to finally give her the apology he owes her, but… that's no longer possible," he lets the rage drain out of him, pinching his eyebrows together in a practiced forlorn expression.
He's startled out of it as Kurusu puts a hand on his shoulder. Akechi shifts back at the sudden contact, his back bumping against the wall of the bath, and he's unable to hide the expression of surprise.
"Sorry, I-" Akira pulled his hand back, fiddling with his bangs, "I'm sorry. To hear that." It's strange, hearing Kurusu seemingly at a loss for words. It felt like he always had some kind of witty retort or charming smile to put people at ease, but this felt…
Vulnerable.
Akechi let out a breath, forcing his body to relax as he eased back into the water again. "Sorry," he laughed, humourless, "I didn't mean for our conversation to get so depressing." A lie, but the apology feels genuine, for some reason. "Actually, are you alright?" He immediately deflected, smiling brightly at Kurusu, "The water is—"
"Goro."
The use of his first name stopped Akechi in his tracks. His mind raced. Was he onto him? Maybe you laid it on too thick. Maybe Kurusu was off-put by how angry you were for a moment. "Kurusu-kun…?" He feigned ignorance, lips parted in an expression he had mentally dubbed 'kicked puppy'.
"You can keep talking about this, if you want," Kurusu said, and Akechi felt himself wavering under the intensity of his eyes.
Akechi lifted his hand to wave him off. "Please, Kurusu-kun. I don't even know why I brought this up in the first place."
"Because you wanted someone to listen," Akira answered without hesitation. "Not some talk show host who will ask invasive questions, not some shitty adult who will pity you for it."
Akechi blinked a few times, something bitter and thick rising in his throat. "I—"
"You know, I kind of hate my parents too," Kurusu volunteered, turning to lean over the ledge of the bath, water spilling over the edges with the movement. "Not for the same reasons, but… Sometimes it just hits me how pissed off I am at them, when I'm not paying attention in class, or when I'm lying in bed."
Akechi paused, then shifted to sit next to Akira, his back against the edge Akira's arms dangled over. They faced opposite directions, which might have been why all this suddenly became so much easier.
"Yeah," Akechi's voice came out hoarse, swallowing down the bitter feeling that felt like it was choking him.
"I needed them and they just…washed their hands of me. Sent me off somewhere to be someone else's problem. Worried about what the neighbours would say more than what my life was going to become." The same bitterness echoed in Kurusu's voice, but instead of swallowing it, it just continued to creep in word by word. "I called them once, a day after I got here. They haven't called me since. That was… shit, like five months ago almost?" He laughed, humourless.
Akechi felt himself heat up with his own rage. "It's almost worse," he said, feeling his Detective Prince facade begin to slip, "Pretending to care. At least my father had the decency to openly not give a shit. At least I knew where we stood."
It came out almost like a growl, and Akechi became deeply aware of how much he was losing control. Rein it in, he repeated to himself mentally, but Akira's anger seemed to seep into his body, mixing with his own resentment for Shido and twisting into something less easily tamed.
Kurusu let out a load-bearing sigh, then turned around and let himself slip deep into the water, up past his chin, his nose— fully submerging himself. Akechi watched him curiously as the distorted shape of Akira rubbed at his face, then reemerged like Tokyo's shittiest mermaid, hair plastered down his face. Before he could stop himself, Akechi found himself laughing; a breathless, manic laugh that came from nowhere and rocked through his body. Akira pushed the hair up out of his face and back, looking at Akechi with a kind of shocked curiosity, before breaking into a lopsided grin in return.
"God, you need a haircut. How do you even see past those bangs?" Akechi asked, attempting to rein in his laughter. He covered his mouth with his hand in an attempt to regain his more demure mask, but Akira swiftly picked up a bucket from beside the tub and scooped it through the water, dumping it over Akechi's head in one smooth action.
"Speak for yourself, pretty boy," Kurusu responded while Akechi sputtered and coughed, trying to peel back his own strands of hair out of his face. "Here, lemme help you." Akechi felt Akira shift closer, their legs bumping under the water. Akira's hands brushed his nose, pushing some of the wet locks out of way. Akechi felt himself pull away, try to retreat, but his back was up against the edge of the tub. Nowhere to run.
This wasn't the plan. He was the detective, he was supposed to corner the phantom thief. Now he felt pinned under the spotlight that was Kurusu's eyes. The other boy fixed him under his gaze, as if peeling back every mask upon mask that Akechi had carefully put on, and it terrified him.
It excited him.
"Kurusu-kun, what—"
"It's Akira," the other boy corrected in a hush. "I thought being rivals made us closer than last names, Goro."
There it was again, the intimacy of being called by his first name. Something that nobody in his life had the privilege of using. Not given freely, but stolen, like a true thief would.
Goro's mind raced as he tried to read Kurusu's— Akira's next move. His hand still hovered above Akechi's cheek where it remained after pushing some hair from his face, as if forgotten in the moment. His eyes were searching his, as if going through the same thought process, trying to predict what the other would do next. All plans had been at this point thrown out the window. The two of them sat perched at a standstill, unsure who was chasing who.
Akechi's hand reached up and snatched Kurusu's wrist. The action seemed to surprise both of them.
"Akira-kun," he tested the name on his tongue, expression pleasant but words undertoned with something menacing, "You're very close to me right now."
Kurusu blinked, picking up on the shift in tone, and grinned back. The intimacy making way for the game once more.
"Oh, am I?" He asked teasingly, shifting even closer. Akechi felt Akira's leg between his, and let out a small gasp of surprise as his forehead pressed against his own.
"Might I remind you that we're in a public bath right now?" Akechi retorted, keenly aware that he had no view of the entrance from this position.
Akira's eyes flicked past him to the door, then back to Goro. That intensity in his eyes returned, doubled as they drank in Akechi's face. "I don't see anyone else," he said matter-of-factly.
It was imperative that Goro regain the upper hand here.
He could feel the last of his control slipping through his fingers, and he tried to reclaim it in the only way he could think of in the moment. Goro dug his nails into Akira's wrist, extracting a hiss from the boy, but not the expected reaction. Instead of backing off, Akira swallowed audibly, his hand clenching into a fist. Akira took in a shuddering breath. Goro felt something in him jump to life; a predator smelling blood.
It didn't take much effort to push Akira back, turning the tables so it was his back pressed up against the wall instead of Goro's; the bath wasn't so big, after all. Water sloshed over the sides with the motion, but Goro could care less right now. Akira's big beautiful grey eyes stared up at him, and he wanted nothing more than to let himself loose and destroy him.
Akira wasn't the type to bend the knee that early, however. His free hand slid under the water, up Akechi's leg. It was strange, being touched underwater. It felt faraway, almost unreal. Maybe this wasn't real, Akechi thought, maybe if it was underwater, no one could say for sure what happened.
It was with this last, desperate justification that Akechi let his mask slip.
"Do you want so badly to be caught?" Goro demanded under his breath, earning him a wide grin from Akira.
"I never get caught," he replied with an attempt at laissez-faire attitude, but Akechi could hear the hitch in his breath. It was like everything Akira did was tailored to pissing him off. He tangled his other hand in Akira's hair and wrenched his head back, earning him a quiet whine from the thief, and sank his teeth into the spot where neck met shoulder.
Akira thrashed, then his entire body went rigid for a moment. Goro felt a smug sense of satisfaction wash over him, finally getting a rise out of his rival, even if it wasn't an elegant move. His tongue ran over the intents in Akira's skin, lapping up the taste of blood there.
He was so busy indulging that he didn't notice the second hand on his other leg, nor both of them rising higher before curling possessively around his ass. Akechi let out an indignant grunt, straightening up to see Akira's unabashed smirk.
He released his grip on Akira's hair. Instead his hands darted into the water, bringing up Akira's wrists and pinning them to the wall over his head. Somehow this didn't wipe the defiant smile off of the other boy's face. Both of them stayed there, halfway out of the water, flush with the heat and the chase and the tension that finally snapped.
"You're a Phantom Thief," Akechi hissed, because what else could he do? How else was he supposed to take control of this situation?
"And?" Akira retorted, blinking up at him, "What, are you going to arrest me?"
A complicated question. Too complicated to deal with right now.
"What is your angle here, Kurusu?" Goro demanded, because everything was starting to get murky.
Akira gave Goro a once over with his eyes. "Pretty good, honestly," he replied, flippant.
"Will you be fucking serious?" Goro hissed, releasing one hand and gripping Akira's chin, forcing it upwards and away from anything more untoward. Once more, this didn't have the intended effect. Akira gasped a bit, his lips parting above Goro's thumb.
Something in Akechi's brain crashed. As if on instinct, he slipped his thumb into the other boy's mouth, pressing down on his tongue. Akira moaned.
This isn't part of the plan, this isn't part of the plan, what are you doing? Are you insane!? He screamed to himself, but it sounded faraway. Like someone calling to him underwater. The sensation of Akira's tongue along the pad of his thumb was louder, along with the absolutely illegal sounds coming from his mouth.
Akechi had noticed Akira's lips before. After all, he took in every detail of the boy. The way they curled up in a cheeky smile, the way he licked coffee off them before setting his cup down, they way they pursed in thought when he was considering a response. And now, the way they parted for him, soft and inviting. Goro needed to investigate further. He removed his thumb and leaned forward, foreheads pressing together, hovering just out of reach. He was keenly aware of Akira's hot breath against him, the way their legs slotted together under the water, the cooling water dripping down his own cheeks. Everything was heightened, and he froze, overwhelmed with sensation and the situation his decisions had gotten him into.
Akira took the opportunity to steal a kiss.
And steal it he did, leaning forward to close the gap between them and press his lips to Goro's, barely giving him a moment to register it before beginning to probe curiously with his tongue. Akechi bit down on it in alarm, eliciting another whine from Kurusu, but it did cause him to retreat. No, Goro wasn't done with his lips yet. Tongue would come later. He lavished in the softness of Akira's lips, the way they eagerly parted for him, small 'hah's mumbled into Goro's mouth as they kissed. Akechi liked how vocal Kurusu was, even if now wasn't the time. Maybe there'd be somewhere more private, another time—
What do you mean another time? Part of him screamed, tugging at his metaphorical hair in anguish, you wanted to show a vulnerable side, but this is too vulnerable. WAY too vulnerable!
Goro broke off, taking in a gasping breath he didn't realize he needed. Akira licked his lips the same way he did with the coffee, eyes slowly opening to meet Goro's gaze with a heavy one of his own.
"Kurusu," Goro began, unsure.
"I won't get caught," Akira said with a surety that was unearned considering their situation. It was enough to convince him, stupid as he was right now.
His lips crashed against Kurusu's again, less exploratory and more dominating. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, pushing away the urge to bite hard. Instead he nipped, catching and releasing one lip and then the other, feeling the plushness firsthand.
Akira's hands, free once more, began to wander, slowly crawling up Goro's leg again. Bold, daring him to stop him, to pin his hands up once more helplessly over his head. He wasn't stopped. Akechi paused as he felt fingers close around his member, trying to suppress the groan that threatened to escape his lips and into Akira's. No. He won't lose. HE'S the one in control.
Goro lowered a hand back into the water, snaking over Kurusu's leg as he mirrored the other. Akira moaned into his mouth as his hand wrapped his dick.
God, he envied Akira, letting out every noise that comes up, freely showing his feelings. Goro wanted to growl, wanted to shower Akira in insults and compliments and teasing nicknames. He wanted to laugh at every whimper he elicited from the thief, wanted to throw him to the ground and take everything from him. Instead, they quietly stroked each other under the water, all of Akira's noises muffled into Goro's mouth. Every sound, every pant or splash or grunt echoed loudly through the bathhouse, and Akechi was intent on not letting a single one escape this room.
Kurusu's hips lifted to meet his strokes, eager and bold as usual. Akechi needed to keep him pinned to the wall to stop him from making too much noise, all while trying to stoically bite back every instinct that told him to do the same. Even through the muffled sensation of water, Akechi could feel his limit approaching. God, how pathetic, you're going to cum this fast? He'll think you're desperate.
I'll just have to make him cum first, Akechi argued with himself, then he can't make fun of me.
His jerking sped up, and he stopped focusing on how delicious Akira's lips were to tighten his hand at just the right spot mid-stroke, just as he liked it. Kurusu's breath hitched. He opened his eyes to meet the Akechi's gaze, foreheads pressed together as they both quietly agreed to a competition. Because everything was a competition between them. Akira began to match Goro's motions, and he silently cursed himself for showing him exactly what did it for him. He felt his hips begin to buck, and he bit down on his own tongue in an attempt to stop what was coming. Akira's breath was coming out in pants, gaze fixed on Goro. Both of them wanting to both win and lose.
Determined to come out on top, Akechi shifted to put his lips to Kurusu's ear. He wanted to say something eloquent, some kind of quip that would leave him feeling intellectually superior for once. Instead, with a possessive growl he hissed, "You're mine."
Because he was. No one understood Kurusu like Akechi, no one knew his secrets or saw his masks, and no one got to see him like this; desperate, undone. This was a reward for him alone, for the capture of the illusive phantom thief.
It wasn't clear who won this theoretical competition. Goro felt himself losing control moments after his declaration, turned on by the vulnerability he snatched from Akira tonight. Akira bucked forward with a moan at Goro's declaration of ownership. Two sets of hips stuttering and flexing in a sudden rush of orgasm.
**
I can never come to this bathhouse ever again, Akechi thought morosely as Kurusu handed him a bottle of milk, I won't even be able to walk past it without remembering how stupid I was.
He opened the cold milk and looked down into it, the bitter lump in his throat back again and preventing him from swallowing.
Akira, however, seemed to have no qualms about it. He downed the whole bottle in one chug, releasing it from his lips with a satisfied 'ahh', and licking a stray drop from them. Goro stared. His thoughts became very un-Princely.
Instead, he forced himself to drink his own, taking a large swig of it, closing his eyes.
"Ahh, that's refreshing," he said, with some difficulty, putting on a gentle smile, "These really taste best when you're just out of the bath." The milk lay thick on his tongue, the lie unable to permeate past it. "Oof…I think I feel a little lightheaded," he muttered under his breath.
"Same," Kurusu replied, as if it was directed at him. His cheeks were still flushed despite moving back into the cooler change room. His eyes darted up to meet Akechi's, and in that brief glance, Goro caught a glimpse of anxiety.
Maybe this wasn't unsalvagable. Hell, this was more vulnerable than he intended, but maybe it'd have the same result.
Akechi beamed, letting out a bit of a laugh. "I thought so, your face is bright red you know," he teased. Akira grinned sheepishly, fiddling with his bangs. The tension eased, somewhat.
"This is the first time I've ever taken a bath like this," Goro admitted, a bit quieter.
"…Would you want to go again?" Akira asked, his eyes flashing with that same intensity.
Akechi mulled this over for a moment. "Perhaps," he answered with his most pleasant smile, mask securely in place once more.
"That's not a no," Akira replied with a smirk, playing with his bangs. That same devil may care attitude, despite their situation. Goro was envious.
The two dressed. The cool September air hit them both as they exited.
"I'd like to see more Goro Akechi rather than the Detective Prince," Kurusu said, quiet enough that he almost didn't catch it.
"Nobody needs to see that side of me," Akechi replied tersely, walking ahead of Kurusu.
"Maybe just me, then," the other boy said with a shrug, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. "I like the real you, Goro-kun."
"Thank you for the bath, Kurusu-kun," Akechi smiled pleasantly, "I hope you have a good rest of your evening."
That was enough vulnerability for a lifetime.