Work Text:
While Yusuke was overjoyed to now have so many awe-inspiring people counted among his friends as of late, time was, unfortunately not one of them. One hour of painting would soon meander into two. Those two hours would sure enough invite unwanted guests to the session in the form of an additional three. It eventually became the time of night in which Yusuke eventually realized that he was squinting at the canvas after forgetting to turn on any lights beyond his small desk lamp.
It just so happened that today, time had decided to mix things up a bit.
Yusuke was early.
Undeterred, he pushed open the door to LeBlanc as the familiar chime hung above the door welcomed him in.
The bell, however, was the only thing to welcome him.
It appeared that Yusuke was so early, in fact, that the rest of the Phantom Thieves had yet to arrive for their meeting. The area directly behind the counter stood empty, as did the kitchen when he peered into it. Akira, nor the boss, were anywhere to be found. It was then, however that a soft noise arose from somewhere behind him, so faint that Yusuke wasn't certain that he hadn't imagined it until he turned around.
A person was slumped over the table at one of the seats, glossy auburn hair falling over a nest formed by the boy's folded arms where he rested his head.
Taking a step closer, a wave of recognition smacked Yusuke in the face. Sleeping peacefully before him was the boyishly handsome face of Goro Akechi.
Yusuke frowned. Something about the scene struck him as out of place, so much so that his brain had taken a moment to catch up with his eyes. What, exactly, was so odd, though, Yusuke couldn't say for certain.
Gingerly sliding into the seat across from Akechi, Yusuke pulled out a sketch book. If he was so terribly early after all, he might as well find an enjoyable way to pass the time.
Yusuke favored a soft 2B lead as of late, taking pleasure in the way it glided over the paper. Lines began to take shape, graphite marks fighting back against the ocean of white on the page, claiming the space for their own.
And then, a pause. Yusuke placed the pencil down, instead forming a frame with his fingers, placing Akechi squarely in the center. Realization dawned upon Yusuke then, as to why the sight of Akechi so peacefully at rest had been so jarring to him.
In the albeit brief time that Yusuke had known him, he had never seen Goro Akechi so vulnerable before.
Reaching across the table, Yusuke felt with the back of his hand the half-full coffee cup left forgotten near Akechi's head. It had grown nearly cold; Akechi had been asleep for quite some time.
Was he perhaps ill? Yusuke wondered, tilting his head in concern as he leaned across the table. Even while aware of all that Akechi had done--what he still planned to do-- Yusuke still couldn't relish the thought of anyone he knew coming down with something. He knew all too well what could so easily befall them next.
With the deft hand of an artist, Yusuke carefully brushed a stray bit of hair from Akechi's face. As he did so, a small murmur that would have been inaudible had the cafe been more occupied arose from Akechi's pale throat.
Yusuke retracted his fingers as if bitten.
Thankfully, Akechi did not wake, and his forehead hadn't felt overly warm.
Best not to try his luck, Yusuke thought, picking up his pencil instead. He had an unobstructed view of Akechi's features now. The length of his eyelashes was more apparent now, with his eyes closed shut, although they would occasionally flutter, as if he were having some sort of dream. Did the boy seek vengeance even in his sleep, Yusuke wondered? Or was he a small boy once more, chased night after night by a tall male figure, cloaked in shadow and indifference, as Yusuke often found himself subject to in the small hours.
For a moment or two, his pencil tip did little more than hover above the page. The sensation of the cold, stiff utensil in his hand was in stark contrast with the silky softness of Akechi's hair. Could he somehow impart that softness into the page? Yusuke considered. Perhaps if he were to feel it once again...
More confident now in the depth of Akechi's slumber, Yusuke leaned over the table once more, threading his fingers into Akechi's thick hair. As he carded through the long strands, another small noise slipped from the sleeping boy and Yusuke nearly pulled away for good. However, rather than Akechi awaken, something unexpected happened instead- his head turned ever so slightly in the direction of Yusuke's palm, as if leaning into the touch. A still-blind newborn animal in search of warmth.
When was the last time he had ever felt a kind touch, outside of polite handshakes from the media? Yusuke wondered, an odd feeling settling into his stomach that was a mix of pity and something else that Yusuke wasn't ready to face while inches away from the person who held machinations to kill his best friend and leader. Even so, Yusuke continued the rhythmic motion, finding it to be surprisingly soothing, hypnotic even. A gentle smile came upon his lips.
Very rarely did Yusuke entertain thoughts of intimacy with another. More often than not, he was far too preoccupied with people in regards to capturing their likeness in his works of art. That said, he could get used to this sort of thing, he considered vaguely, mind still caught up in the comforting sensation. Perhaps there was art to be found in the beauty of touch as well.
"Mmmph... Kita...gawa?"
Cold coffee ran over the edge of the table, Yusuke having toppled the cup in his startled effort to jerk away. It's stale scent hanging in the air between them as Yusuke's heart leapt in his chest.
"Forgive me, I-" Yusuke sputtered, at a rare loss for words.
A flash of emotion crossed Akechi's face as he came to, righting himself in the booth seat. Eyes wide, he adjusted his tie, before slicking back into place the hair that Yusuke had previously mussed.
Fear, Yusuke realized. Had he known about the touch? Or was his pride simply wounded?
"I must have dozed off!" Akechi laughed with the pre-recorded quality of a sit-com laugh track, quickly recovering his plastic smile. "How embarrassing!"
Yusuke rose from his seat, heading toward the counter in order to retrieve a handful of napkins for blotting up the coffee. "Worry not, I won't tell anyone about the fact that you're merely human, just like the rest of us."
Akechi laughed again, sharper this time, and Yusuke thought it sounded more sincere than the last.
"But only," Yusuke continued, nodding toward the mess on the table and floor, "If you would allow me the favor of purchasing you a fresh cup when Akira returns."