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It wasn’t as though Akutagawa had intended to end up at Ausushi’s apartment after their job together. Honestly, even after Yosano had handed him his apartment key, he had only intended to drop him off and leave. He hadn’t left Atsushi’s side since he had laid by him and fell asleep, determined to wait at least until he woke up. He had called Chuuya the morning after to fill him in, and without any prompting from Akutagawa, Chuuya had already canceled all of his obligations.
Then, when Atsushi had woken up, Akutagawa had offered him his house key with the air of finality that came with someone who was very sure that they were about to leave. Atsushi had thanked him and Akutagawa had nodded and turned to leave, sighing when he heard Atsushi stumble and nearly fall behind him. Without a word from either of them, Akutagawa turned back around and steadied him as best he could, walking with him one step at a time towards his apartment. Akutagawa turned on his heel when they were through the door, ready to leave one more time, and he even made it as far as the hallway outside Atsushi’s apartment. But that was when Atsushi shut the door on him suspiciously quickly and he heard the sound of painful coughing coming from the other side.
It wasn’t as though he could have walked away (even when he could have) because of course the weretiger would need him to hold his hand through his recovery (even when he didn’t). Truthfully, that was how Akutagawa ended up where he is now, holding a cold cloth over Atsushi's forehead in an attempt to get him to stop trying to take it off of himself.
“It feels awful.” Atsushi gripes, letting his hand fall back onto the table they sit on opposite ends of, giving up trying to remove the rag from himself. Akutagawa scoffs in response.
“It’s obviously not going to feel good, Jinko. It kind of comes with the whole ‘fever’ territory.” he lets go of the cloth when he’s sure Atsushi won't try to move it again, and he gets up to continue making the peppermint tea he had been making before. “How on earth do you manage to almost die and then get sick immediately after.”
There's a brief pause, long enough for Akutagawa to look back and meet the eyes of his partner who is, surprisingly, already looking back at him.
“It's a part of the healing thing.” He finally says. “The tiger, she can’t actually heal me that fast without side effects. Usually I get sick, or the scars will stick instead of fading. Sometimes, when it's really bad, it's both.”
Atsushi’s hand reaches up to his neck subconsciously, fingers brushing against the raised skin there, still in the shape of the bullet hole that had pierced it. Akutagawa is forced to remember how close he had really been to ‘too late’. He nearly burns himself on the hot edge of the mug and re-focuses on that instead.
He had seen the scars on Atsushi’s abdomen a few times before, though he hadn’t asked about them. It had occurred to him to wonder how they had remained even with the effects of the tiger’s healing, but he supposed the explanation he had been provided with made sense.
He pours the tea into a couple of mugs and glances back at Atsushi again as he lifts both of them and carries them over. Atsushi is looking at him with something like confused wonder on his face, which makes Akutagawa itch all over. When Atsushi is handed the tea he (mercifully) stops staring at him and sits up, removing the cloth from his forehead with no resistance from Akutagawa.
-
It’d only been two days when Akutagawa had to leave to take a job that Chuuya hadn’t been able to cover for him. He hadn’t slept, because in all honesty he wasn’t sure how secure Atsushi’s apartment was, but he had sat on the surprisingly comfortable armchair that Atsushi kept in his living room, even after Atsushi had offered to let him take the futon he kept uncomfortably crammed in the closet. Atsushi had assured him when he had left that next morning that he would be fine, that he was feeling much better and that Akutagawa didn’t need to come back if he didn’t want to.
Of course, after spending a night back in his and Gin’s house when he got home from his job, he decided he needed to make a stop by Atsushi’s apartment. Kyouka wouldn’t be home yet, which meant that Atsushi was likely home alone, it was likely that he had already burnt down his apartment trying to cook. He clearly would need help, instead of attempting to live off chazuke for the rest of the time Kyouka is gone.
(It’s easier to tell himself that Atsushi will need him there, than to admit he wants to be there with him. Easier than having to face the fact that he enjoys Atsushi’s company more than rivals should, possibly more than friends. Much easier, certainly, than having to admit that to Atsushi.)
It doesn’t take him long to get back to Atsushi’s apartment, and he raps on the door once, twice, three times before he hears movement inside. It takes another second for the door to swing open, Atsushi already in his usual clothes, minus the boots and suspenders. His hair looks a little disheveled, and there are bags under his eyes that seem to get covered by the way his eyes widen in surprise.
“Akutagawa!” He says, clearly not expecting to have seen him again, at least not so soon. “Um, give me a second-”
The door shuts again and Akutagawa hears him moving around inside some more. It doesn’t take him long to get bored of waiting outside, so he opens the door again probably not even a minute after Atsushi had shut it. He finds Atsushi picking up papers that are littered around his desk and armchair, hastily putting them into the drawer in his desk.
“Sorry, I had a lot of paperwork to catch up on from the job.” He laughs nervously, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. Akutagawa gives him a questioning look, but lets it slide instead of commenting on it. He wouldn’t typically express concern for Atsushi overworking himself, so he supposes starting now would only seem suspicious. Atsushi seems to stare at him nervously, mouth moving as though he’s considering saying something else. “Did you… need something?”
Akutagawa stares at him for a second, barely noticing how he shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. Did he need something? He had only come to check on Atsushi, but was that really true? Could he even admit that to Atsushi without giving himself away?
“No, I wanted to see if you had managed to burn your apartment building down yet.” Akutagawa kept walking into the entryway, glancing into the kitchen. As he had thought, there was only one bowl in the sink, a couple grains of rice still stuck to the bottom of it. “You need to get groceries.”
“I know,” Atsushi glances at the sink as well, then at his pantry which is open to reveal its lack of contents. “I was going to go after I went to work today, since Kyouka gets back soon, but Yosano told me to go back home.”
Yosano is a smart woman, Akutagwa had figured she would at least have the sense to send him home if he had attempted to take any jobs so soon after his last. He finds himself incredibly grateful to have been right. Distantly, he recognizes the metallic smell the apartment has taken on, tissues stained red nearly filling up the trash can that is between his kitchen and living room. He glances again at the scar on Atsushi’s neck, to remind himself that he’s healed and alive, only to find that it’s more raised and red than it had been when he had seen him last. It takes a lot of his willpower not to reach out and brush his hand across it. To inspect it, of course, not as an excuse to be closer. To inspect it, not to give himself a reason to make sure Atsushi’s heart's still beating, to make sure he’s still breathing. Which, he might not be, from the way he looks like a deer caught in headlights when Akutagawa stops staring at his neck long enough to make eye contact.
“I’ll take you.” He offers, not thinking in the slightest before he opens his mouth. Atsushi is startled out of his thoughts, like he had already forgotten what they were talking about.
“You don’t have to.”
Akutagawa rolled his eyes, turning on his heel to start walking right out of the apartment where he had just come from. He notices Atsushi isn’t following and glances over his shoulder, shooting him an annoyed look.
“I’m not waiting all day, Jinko.”
Atsushi started following him automatically, still rolling his eyes as he trailed behind. “You don’t have to be an ass just to make up for the fact that you’ve offered to do something nice.”
“I wouldn’t consider it nice,” He says as Atsushi catches up to him, pressing the elevator button on the end of the hallway with a smirk on his face that may or may not be dangerously close to a genuine smile, “more like charity work.”
-
It's actually kind of difficult to carry all of the groceries they get back to Atsushi's apartment from the grocery store a couple blocks away. With the help of Rashomon, they manage to get it all there without having to stop. It does make Akutagawa much more aware of how much weaker the tiger has been, as Atsushi seems to have much more trouble carrying them then he usually would.
“I’m just saying, you don’t have to be such a freak about it all the time.” The elevator whirs around them as it takes them back up to Atsushi’s apartment floor.
“I am not a ‘freak’ about looking presentable, Jinko.” Begrudgingly, a smile twitches at his face. “I’m just saying, the suspenders are tacky.” He shrugs. Atsushi gives him an offended look.
“They were a gift!” Akutagawa just scoffs in response. “Don’t be pissy just because no one likes you enough to give you anything.”
Atsushi has never really held back with Akutagawa, which is something he finds himself endlessly grateful for. He’s seen how Atsushi interacts with others, with fake passiveness and a certain level of fear, but it had never really been prevalent with the two of them. Still, this comment catches Akutagawa off guard, and he lifts a hand to cover his mouth as he laughs.
Atsushi stares with wide eyes at him, like he’s just seen a ghost, and Akutagawa glances to the side, smile still barely hidden by the hand over his mouth. Atsushi coughs as the elevator doors open, his hand also covering his face for reasons Akutagawa can’t surmise.
When they get back to his apartment Akutagawa helps stack everything on his kitchen counter and starts unloading it. It hadn’t been a lot of ingredients, because he knew that Atsushi would only get overwhelmed and they would be left to rot, but there are a few for Kyouka, who had briefly learned to cook from Kouyou during her time in the mafia. The rest of the groceries are simple things, like mixes for potatoes and pancakes, frozen meals, and easy snacks, which doesn’t take long at all to get put in the pantry and fridge. Akutagawa makes some tea again, growing more and more familiar with where Atsushi keeps his things, when he sees Atsushi cough a large glob of blood into a paper towel and throw it out.
They settled into his living room, Akutagawa on the recliner and Atsushi sat on the floor across from him, cushioned by the rug. He blows on his tea to cool it, looking up at Akutagawa across the room just as he had many times in the last three days, like he was dying to ask a question he didn’t want to know the answer to.
“Okay, spit it out.” Akutagawa finally gives in, setting his mug of tea on the table next to him. Atsushi jumps like he had forgotten the other could talk.
“What?”
“You’ve been looking at me like you have a question all day, so spit it out.”
There's a long bout of silence. Akutagawa speaks up again, “Avoiding the question won’t solve anything, you don’t need to be so pathetic about it.”
Atsushi’s eyes narrow at him, and then it's like something snaps. “That! That’s exactly what I mean. I don’t understand why you’re still here. Sometimes it feels like we get along, and sometimes it feels like I forced you to be here and you want nothing more than to go back home. I don’t understand what's making you stay here after I’ve told you that you don’t have to stay.”
It takes Akutagawa a minute to recover, staring wide-eyed at him across the room. He doesn’t even have a chance to respond immediately, because Atsushi’s hand flies up to his mouth as his chest is wracked with the same coughs that Akutagawa is so familiar with. Blood coats his hand after a moment, and without a word Akutagawa gets up and grabs a paper towel and dampens it in the sink, bringing it back to him. He hands it to Atsushi, who gives him a wary look, but takes the cloth with a muttered ‘thanks’, wiping his hands free of blood.
“I don’t know.”
Akutagawa only responds after he’s already sat back down on the recliner, after Atsushi’s hands are clean and lungs are clear. Atsushi glances up at him again in interest, surprised that Akutagawa had answered at all. In all honesty, Akutagawa doesn’t know why he’s responded, much less what to say now that he has. He knows why he’s here, he’s wrestled with it for weeks even before Atsushi got hurt in the first place. Telling Atsushi, however? That's a far more difficult battle.
There's a long period where they just stare at each other.
Akutagawa breaks eye contact first, turning his head to the side and sighing. It's not like he’ll die if he has to admit that he’s here just because he wants to be. He looks at the clock on the wall next to him, it already reads eleven at night.
“It’s getting late.”
Atsushi’s hope visibly dissipates.
“Right.” He stands up. His tea is lukewarm and untouched, he picks it up as he stands. “Are you staying the night again?”
“It's too late for me to walk home.” No it isn’t. “Gin will be asleep.”
“Okay.” Atsushi sets his cup on the counter by the sink and walks past him to the closet that's just out of sight of the way the armchair faces. He doesn’t say anything, and their conversation is ended by the finality of the closet door folding shut.
Akutagawa stares into his mug of tea, the dark of the room making it so no reflection appears on its surface. He took a sip of it and wrinkled his nose. He would have to heat it up again if he wanted to drink it tonight.
-
He hadn’t even realized he had fallen asleep until he was startled awake by a crashing noise. He bolts upright with Rashomon at the ready, its tendrils immediately aimed at the source of the noise before Akutagawa himself had even pinpointed where it came from. There’s more rustling coming from the closet where Atsushi sleeps, and then another crash. The door swings open just as Akutagawa stands up from the recliner, and Atsushi stumbles out.
The first thing he sees is the flash of red that covers Atsushi’s throat. His pupils are in slits and he’s moving erratically, making it so Akutagawa doesn’t have a chance to grab ahold of him before he manages to dash past and into the bathroom. Akutagawa tries to get there, but the door slams closed and the lock clicks right as he reaches the door.
“Jinko!”
There’s panic in his voice, but he can’t bring himself to care. The blood flowing down his neck replays in his mind, staining the collar of his sleep shirt- of his button down- plastered to his shoulder-
The crashing stops for a second and Akutagawa’s heart sinks to his feet.
“Open the door.” There’s no answer. “Jinko! Open the-”
He hears raggedy breath from the inside of the bathroom and he finally gives up. He lashes out at the doorknob with Rashomon, the handle rattling only for a moment before it snaps off and he rushes into the bathroom. The sight doesn’t quell his fears in the slightest.
Atsushi grasps, no, claws at his neck with a vengeance, his back pressed against the wall as far into the corner as he can get. Blood flows from beneath his sharpened fingernails, his eyes sharp but unfocused until he belatedly notices Akutagawa standing in the doorway. He scrambles back even further, his eyes flashing to yellow.
Akutagawa steps forward hesitantly, and it reminds Atsushi of what he was doing in the first place, as his hands fly back to his neck and dig into the already healing skin there once again. Akutagawa steps towards him with more urgency now, and Atsushi’s eyes meet him with a perfect mix of pleading and horror. Akutagawa will never get that face out of his head for as long as he lives.
“Get it out-” he pleads from where he sits on the floor, only confusing Akutagawa more. He’s confused, figuring Atsushi had meant to urge him to leave.
“I’m not leaving-”
“Get it out!” Tears have started pouring from Atsushi’s eyes at this point, the clawing getting more desperate. “It hurts, get it out, get it out-”
It's then that he starts to put the pieces together. Atsushi doesn’t stop clawing even when Akutagawa gets close enough to try and pry his hands away with his own.
“There is no bullet Jinko; Yosano healed you,” he starts, voice still barely heard over Atsushi’s.
“I can feel it,” in between gasps of air, pleads, and sobs, Atsushi manages to speak again. “I can feel it and I need it out-“
“Jinko!” Nothing changes, he doesn't even seem to recognize that there's someone there anymore. “Jinko!”
He tries to restrain Atsushi’s hands with Rashomon but Atsushi screams, legs lashing out and kicking and his arms desperately trying to get out of his grasp. Akutagawa’s voice gets slightly more desperate, but he still won’t respond.
“Jin- damn it- Atsushi!”
It's like a switch flips. He doesn’t stop crying, but he does stop screaming, which he’s sure is fantastic for the neighbors. He’s still breathing heavily, and Akutagawa takes this moment to move his hands up briefly, replacing Rashomon with his own hands so Atsushi wouldn’t feel so restrained.
“You’re fine. There’s no bullet.”
He’s never been very good at comfort, it's not as though it's something they teach you in the mafia. Still, he makes his best attempt.
“Breathe.” Atsushi does, breath stuttering with the leftover shakes from crying. “See? No bullet.”
They spend a couple more minutes like that, the wounds on Atsushi’s neck healing slower than usual, his breath slowly evening out. Akutagawa eventually lets go of Atsushi’s wrists, and it’s almost embarrassing how he hesitates with one palm against Atsushi’s own, reluctant to let go. At least, it would be embarrassing if Atsushi didn’t also seem equally as disappointed.
They’d been like that for maybe ten minutes when Atsushi speaks up, voice ragged from screaming.
“Sorry.”
Akutagawa’s eyebrows furrow. “For what?”
Atsushi gives him a look that says, ‘really?’, and he looks pointedly at the blood on Akutagawa and the rest of the bathroom floor. Akutagawa rolls his eyes.
“Don’t apologize.” Atsushi doesn’t really seem to react to that at all. Akutagawa might have thought he said the wrong thing, but he’s pretty sure he would have seen the look on Atsushi’s face more clearly if he had.
The silence stretches on even longer, Atsushi still gathering himself, breathing deeply and slowly relaxing instead of standing like a wood board against the wall. It's nice, despite the fluorescent lights that shine on them from above.
“I wanted to.” Atsushi’s eyes move to meet the others as Akutagawa speaks. “Why I stayed, I mean. Because I wanted to.”
Atsushi looks bewildered. Maybe because he can’t believe that Akutagawa would want to stay with him. Maybe because he can’t believe Akutagawa would ever say it out loud. It's not as though Akutagawa himself feels much different. What possessed him to tell Atsushi, especially here, on once cold linoleum now made warm from the twenty minutes they’d been sitting there, he’s still not sure.
“That can’t be it.”
“What?” Akutagawa responds, truly not sure what Atsushi meant.
“That-” he stops himself, frustrated that he can’t seem to form the thought he needs to voice. “Did Yosano tell you to stay with me or something?”
Had she? Now that he thinks about it, he’s genuinely not sure. She had handed him his apartment key, but he doesn't think she actually had asked him to stay with them. No, that had been all Akutagawa’s decision, even if he tried to play it off now.
“No. I just wanted to.”
“... Why?” The look of genuine confusion nearly gets to him. Why wouldn’t he?
“I don’t know.” He shrugs.
Atsushi doesn’t look like he believes him, hell, he has every right to. Akutagawa is here because he wants to be and he wants to be because he loves him. He’s sure it's written all over himself. There isn’t any point in hiding it, not from himself at least. Maybe from Atsushi, though. He stands up when it's clear that Atsushi isn’t going to respond.
“Do you want tea? You didn’t drink yours last night.” He extends a hand to help Atsushi stand, and he takes it, almost without hesitation.
“Okay.”
-
The day before Kyouka gets home, Akutagawa helps Atsushi make dinner. It's been three days since the night Atsushi had panicked, and they haven’t talked about it much since then. He hasn’t had another outburst since then, but Akutagawa has still made sure to sleep at his house until Kyouka is back and can look after him.
“You pinch the sides and fold them in, like this.”
It's the third time he’s had to show Atsushi how to wrap gyozas, but he can’t really find it in himself to care. His shoddy attempts lay on the paper towel next to them, still edible if not exactly aesthetic. This time though, Atsushi seems to get a handle on it. He wraps a dumpling that looks almost exactly like Akutagawa’s does, still a little lopsided. He holds it out triumphantly, a toothy grin on his face that Akutagawa can’t help but stare at.
“Watch your back, I’ll be better than you in no time.”
Akutagawa laughs, as Atsushi curses at the next one he makes, the folds once again lumpy and uneven.
“I had it!”
Akutagawa smiles, a real, genuine smile, and as it's been for the last three days Atsushi doesn’t fail to notice. This time, instead of looking away with his own smile. Atsushi’s eyes stay focused on him. It's always a little mesmerizing to look at Atsushi’s eyes, with their purple and gold. Still, it's more so now, when he feels his breath hitch as Atsushi’s gaze flicks ever so quickly to his lips and then back to his eyes. There’s something new there now, something that Akutagawa doesn’t think he’s seen from Atsushi.
If he had considered the first time an accident, there's no mistaking it the second time, when Atsushi’s eyes flit down to his lips again and linger there before they come back up. Akutagawa has every chance to back away when he starts to move towards him, but he doesn’t.
Atsushi seems to snap out of his trance just long enough to open his own mouth.
“Akutagawa,” Atsushi doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Akutagawa cuts him off.
“God fucking damn it-”
In the end, it’s Akutagawa’s patience that dwindles first. He wraps his hand into the fabric of Atsushi’s shirt, tugging him the rest of the way towards him, which Atsushi moves willingly (eagerly) in return.
When their lips meet it's like something in Akutagawa blooms with the heat in his face. A vacuum opens up in his chest and he feels air rushing through it, filling him with the most refreshing breath he’s ever felt. Atsushi’s stops holding his hands awkwardly out to the side and settles for putting them on Akutagawa’s hips, first just fleeting and then grabbing, and Akutagawa feels his stomach twist into knots.
Atsushi tries to pull back and Akuatagawa only follows him, his hand threading into his hair to hold him in place. To his credit, Atsushi does still manage to protest, even if he very clearly doesn’t want to. He breaks them apart just enough to speak.
“Footsteps-”
There's the rattling of the doorknob and it clicks open before Akutagawa can even gather his bearings enough to move back from Atsushi. He’s met with the mildly perturbed face of Kyouka. Atsushi smiles nervously, knowing the tense relationship between Akutagawa and Kyouka. Seeing her brother in this position, the middle of their kitchen with his hands resting on the hips of someone who had only brought her pain in the past surely wasn’t the sight she had expected to come home to.
“You’re home early.”
If you asked Akutagawa, he would probably tell you that was the most incriminating thing Atsushi could have said in that moment, but Atsushi (very pointedly, for the next few years) does not ask Akutagawa. For what it’s worth, she handles it with grace. Kyouka glances at the dough and filling still sitting out on the kitchen counter behind them and sighs out her nose, turning on heel to leave the apartment again.
“I’ll be back in an hour. I want gyozas.”