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1.
The first time Yusuke meets Akira Kurusu, he doesn’t think much of him. When he fatefully runs into Takamaki in the station (follows her until she notices him), Kurusu and the other boy, Sakamoto, are simply background figures compared to the muse of his dreams.
Compared to Takamaki’s peppy lilt, and Sakamoto’s more brash and quite frankly, vulgar, presence, it’s fairly easy to gloss over Kurusu, with his quiet demeanor and slouched stance, face hidden by chunky glasses and overgrown curls.
Introductions go by smoothly, in Yusuke’s opinion, though both Takamaki and Sakamoto don’t seem as enthusiastic in their fated meeting. He manages to get Takamaki to shake his hand, though she pulls away almost immediately after clasping their hands together. Sakamoto ignores his outstretched arm when he offers it to the bleached blond, so he moves his hand to the last of the party, Kurusu, who doesn’t hesitate to take it.
Kurusu’s hands are smaller than his, fingers thin and even a bit dainty, yet still rough. Yusuke wonders how he got the calluses lining his palms and knuckles, but the thought leaves his head when Kurusu’s fingers fully wrap around his own, his touch a soothing warmth.
Yusuke can’t really make out Kurusu’s expression from behind the glint of his glasses, but even without them, Yusuke’s never been the best at gauging reactions or how someone truly feels. He turns his attention towards Kurusu’s hand instead, marveling at the slender fingers that meet at a warm palm, connected to his thin wrist. Yusuke doesn’t think as his fingers travel upward to press at Kurusu’s skin, but as soon as his thumb presses into the divot of his wrist, Kurusu’s pulling away, looking a bit startled and maybe even embarrassed.
Kurusu takes his hand back and lifts it to play with a stray tuft of hair falling over his forehead, perhaps a nervous tic of his.
“What the hell?” He hears Sakamoto mutter to Takamaki, but he doesn’t pay attention to his words, instead offering his deal of artistry to Takamaki who looks apprehensive and maybe even a bit suspicious, but he manages to get her to take his phone number anyway, much to his delight.
He’s quickly ushered away by Madarame, though, getting into the car without complaints. After all, he likely scored his next big model for his next piece, and Madarame seems pleased by his choice as well. His hand still feels warm as they head home, and it later returns when he gets a text from Takamaki later that evening, agreeing to his terms and asking to meet up.
—
2.
Kurusu, or Akira, as he insists he calls him, is apparently very skilled in combat, Yusuke discovers. At least in the Metaverse, he is. Yusuke isn’t really sure if Akira can throw a punch at another in the real world, or if he would even want to, but in the Palace, as they call this fake reality that highlights his teacher’s distortions, it’s clear on why Akira is their leader.
Awakening his Persona, Yusuke learns, is a very daunting task, and though he feels the burst of energy and power from bringing forth Goemon, the energy quickly seeps from him halfway through battle, dropping to a knee with a pained grunt as his mentor, or at least the shadow of his mentor, watches smugly.
It’s a bit of a hassle to get away after that, with Yusuke being so tired and the rest of the group multitasking to get away, hold back security guards and keep Yusuke safe, but eventually they find themselves in an exhibit room, lined with elegant benches and free of any guards.
Both he and Takamaki, who also insists he calls her by her given name, flop onto one of the benches once they guarantee their current safety, Akira and Ryuji standing in front of them almost defensively. They rest for a few minutes, his companions filling the silence by explaining the logistics of being inside his mentor’s heart. All the information is making his head hurt, which they notice. Ann softly recommends they call it a day, the rest agreeing immediately. Ann stands and begins to leave the room, followed by Ryuji and the cat mascot, which Yusuke learns is the little cat who Yusuke found in his house, Morgana.
Yusuke sighs deeply and prepares himself to stand, but before he can, Akira is standing in front of him.
“Here,” Akira begins, a gentle smile spread across graceful lips. Yusuke’s fingers itch to sketch it, but it would be better if he could see Akira’s entire face, and he can’t help but be a bit disappointed that his eyes are hidden behind the strange mask taking up the upper portion of his face. “Lean on me.”
Yusuke debates denying his offer, unused to such accommodating behavior, but Akira is already crouched beside him, lifting Yusuke’s arm over his shoulder and tugging him up. Akira steadies him as he stumbles over his own legs, as if his ankles were made of twigs and about to snap under his weight.
Akira is shorter than him, like most people are, so it’s easy to lean his weight onto the other teen’s. He marvels over Akira’s easy acceptance of the burden of his body, the other’s arm sliding around his waist to keep him hoisted up. The touch is something Yusuke isn’t used to, but it’s not unwelcomed, he decides.
Akira’s a constant by his side as they make the trip back to the real world, and it feels as though Yusuke’s exhaustion seeps further into his bones as the museum is replaced by his home, the place he lived his entire life. Looking at the shack makes him feel ill.
Absently he hears Ryuji and Ann muttering to each other about something, likely about his own state, but Yusuke drones out their words. Yusuke’s arm is still wound around Akira’s shoulders, and the press of Akira’s side against his own is comforting, so Yusuke sinks into that heat, putting most of his body weight onto Akira. This time he does stumble a bit, Akira’s free arm shooting up to steady Yusuke, who in turn wraps his free arm around him as well, engaging the two in an awkward, half-hearted hug.
From their side, the two blondes quiet, their gazes snapping to the two males. Yusuke avoids their eyes and peeks at Akira, who looks a bit redder than he was before. Akira stares at something over his shoulder, stiff from where he’s pressed against Yusuke.
They stand still for another solid minute, both processing the odd yet intimate embrace, and Yusuke only snaps back to himself after hearing Akira’s soft “oh”.
Yusuke releases the other boy immediately, stepping away. It takes too much energy to will himself not to stumble from his exhaustion and embarrassment.
He regards Akira, ignoring the burn of Ryuji and Ann’s stares on the side of his head. Akira meets his eyes, averting them after a moment of staring.
“Thank you,” Yusuke murmurs, all he can will himself to say.
Akira’s lips perk up in a smile, much like before, but his face is still hidden by his pesky glasses. Yusuke wishes to see him without those frames.
“Of course,” Akira replies, voice filled with amusement and something else Yusuke can’t quite place. Fondness, perhaps. At least, he wishes its fondness.
—
3.
Early Summer passes quickly for Yusuke, school finals coming and going in a flash, with Palace and Mementos explorations filling the gaps in free time his art and school doesn’t take up.
The dorms are quiet when school releases for break, most students going home to their families and others going on trips and vacations, likely to avoid staying in the sweltering dorms. Yusuke finds it strange how a school as nice as Kosei can’t splurge on proper air conditioning, but he doesn’t pay tuition anyway, so he doesn’t worry about those logistics too much.
In the humid heat of summer, Yusuke finds himself going out as well, the stifling walls of his room making it too hard to focus on painting. Usually, he likes to loiter in the underground Shibuya stations to people watch, but even the smothering heat manages to find its way down in the subway, poor office workers and students sweating alike.
He can only spend so long in convenience stores and diners without buying anything before the employees kick him out, so Yusuke goes to the only other place he can think of; Leblanc.
He doesn’t tell Akira he’s stopping by, mostly because he just forgets to and by the time he’s at Leblanc there’s really no point in it. Even if Akira isn’t home, he still enjoys the environment of the cafe, and Sayuri is there too.
Sakura doesn’t make too much of an effort to welcome Yusuke in, but he also doesn’t kick him out when Yusuke explains he’s trying to escape the heat, only letting out a muted sigh and reminding Yusuke to not be too noisy if he’s going to stay. Sakura’s nonchalant behavior doesn’t phase Yusuke too much, and Yusuke knows Sakura doesn’t actually mind when the man offers him a glass of ice water.
Water and book in hand, Yusuke claims the booth by the door as his own, sinking into the worn but comfortable cushioned seat. The TV is on, playing the news on a low volume, and Sakura is doing something in the kitchen. The small clinking from the kitchen and the murmur of the news anchor is comforting, and Yusuke easily finds himself lost in his own book
Yusuke’s hunched over his book completely by the time the door jingling snaps him out of his trance, a shadow appearing over his table as he looks up.
“Oh,” Akira says, a little surprised. “I didn’t know you’d be here today.”
“Ah. I simply just found my way here to escape the intensity of the heat. Plus, I’ve found myself to appreciate the tranquility of this cafe. Its emptiness allows for great concentration.”
He hears Sakura scoff from across the room, and when he looks over at the bar the older man is shaking his head exasperatedly. “Just because it’s a quiet day doesn’t mean it’s always empty. I make good business, okay?”
Akira huffs out a laugh, his gaze still glued onto him. He doesn’t smile, but his eyes crinkle a bit, something sparkling in them. “Let’s go upstairs?”
“I wasn’t aware the attic had air conditioning,” Yusuke hums, closing his book but not yet moving to stand.
Akira blinks, cocking his head the slightest bit to the right. Yusuke observes the way his hair shifts over his glasses. “It doesn’t.”
“Then why would we go up there?”
“To hang out?” Akira sounds a bit confused, glancing over at Sakura over his shoulder. The man has his back towards them, leaning over a pot of what Yusuke assumes is fresh curry. “Just thought we could go somewhere where we won’t be bothered.”
“I see. Well, I suppose that would suffice, then. Though, I will miss the air conditioning…” Yusuke can’t help but sigh, standing suddenly from the booth. Akira looks a little startled by the abrupt movement, the two standing chest to chest now that Yusuke’s up.
Akira takes a step back and smiles. “I bought popsicles the other day, you can have one.”
Minutes later, Yusuke finds himself in the attic Akira resides in, sitting on the floor with his back to the bed, leaning against one of the crates supporting the mattress. Yusuke never really noticed that Akira didn’t actually have a bed frame. He wonders if it’s comfortable to sleep on or not.
The book he brought with him is propped up on his lap, but still unopened, Yusuke’s attention rather on the lemon popsicle Akira shoved in his hands as he ushered him upstairs. Akira himself doesn’t have a popsicle, and is instead sitting on the bed itself, legs dangling by Yusuke’s head. His friend is peering down at him with mild curiosity.
“What’s with the book?”
“Hm? Oh, it’s a book about artistic methods. I’ve been thinking about leaving the comfort of painting and exploring new techniques. Perhaps sculpting? What do you think?”
“Sculpting?” Akira hums and flops back onto his bed, legs still dangling off the edge by Yusuke. Yusuke assumes he’s staring at the ceiling, or maybe even resting his eyes. Yusuke wishes he can see him from where he’s on the floor. “I don’t know too much about art, but sculpting sounds nice. Messy, though.”
“Messier than painting?” Yusuke’s lips quirk up in a half smile, leaning his head back against the thin futon. He glances over at Akira’s thigh next to him, finishing his popsicle in a few quick bites. “I don’t mind the mess when it comes to art, it’s all part of the process, after all. I’ve lost a majority of my wardrobe with how unsalvageable they are after being covered in paint.”
“Maybe you should paint naked, then.”
“Hm. Not a bad idea.” Yusuke raises his hand to brush his fingers over Akira’s pant leg, by his ankle. The jeans are cuffed, exposing a sliver of bare skin above the cut of his sock. Akira’s leg jerks as Yusuke’s pinky brushes over his ankle, but settles almost immediately. Yusuke takes that as a cue to continue, wrapping his fingers around his friend’s ankle distractedly, rubbing the pad of his thumb over his skin. “I wonder if it would be more freeing to paint in the nude. It is an intriguing thought, indeed. Perhaps I should begin painting in the nude. Thank you for the idea, Akira.”
“Hm. Just make sure to only do that when painting alone. I’m not sure if a model would appreciate their artist being completely naked while painting them,” Akira laughs, voice more quiet than it previously was.
“Perhaps not,” Yusuke sighs, sliding his fingers under Akira’s pant leg and further up his shin. The skin is smooth under his pants. The next question slips from Yusuke’s lips before he can consider it. “Do you shave your legs?”
“Huh?” Akira lifts his head and peeks at Yusuke, his face a bit red. “No, why?”
“No particular reason. Your skin is very soft.”
Akira reddens further at the compliment, and drops his head back onto his bed, kicking his leg out slightly. Yusuke drops his hand and Akira sighs, before lifting himself up fully.
“You hungry? I’m sure Boss won’t sell much curry today, so we can sneak some from the pot.”
“Hm, I suppose I am feeling rather peckish right now.”
“Haha, you always are,” Akira smiles, hopping off his bed and stretching with a low sigh. “Come on then.”
—
4.
It’s early August when they meet alone again, this time at the Planetarium in Ikebukuro. After Yusuke absentmindedly portrayed his wish to paint the stars while in Mementos, Akira herded him to the large, dome like building, buying tickets before Yusuke could even protest about the price. Akira could’ve bought quite a bit of snacks with that money.
Akira easily takes the lead in this trip, deft fingers wrapped around Yusuke’s wrist loosely as he guides the two of them to the seats Akira’s deemed worthy enough.
The show starts soon after, leaving the two to drop their conversation to instead listen to the prerecorded voice explaining something about constellations, or maybe planets, Yusuke’s not really paying attention. Instead, his head is turned towards his friend.
Akira’s eyes are trained on the display, and Yusuke can see the reflection of the bright lights even through the lenses of his glasses. Yusuke has never really focused much on Akira’s face in detail, now that he thinks about it. Of course, he’s noticed the pure beauty held in his friends' features, but Akira’s always skittered around the idea of modeling for him, so Yusuke hasn’t had a good reason to study him.
Yusuke never truly realized how long Akira’s lashes were, brushing against his glasses lenses with each slow, almost sleepy blink. Upon closer inspection, his friend does look pretty tired, dark rings highlighting the skin under his eyes. A bit strange, in Yusuke’s opinion. He’s been spending quite a fair bit of the summer getting rest himself, so he’s surprised Akira hasn’t been doing the same.
Yusuke’s attention is next brought to the gentle slope of Akira’s nose, a perfect curve. He really would like to paint that nose.
Yusuke doesn’t even realize he’s moving his fingers until they brush over Akira’s skin, tracing the slope of his nose. Akira startles first, jolting upright, which causes Yusuke to pull back. The artist can feel his face heating, and he hopes it isn’t visible in the darkness of the room.
“My apologies,” Yusuke chokes out, shame welling up in his chest. The words are heavy on his tongue. “I don’t know what came over me.”
Absently, Akira lifts his hand to trace over his own nose, following the path Yusuke previously took. He blinks once, then twice. “Ah,” he breathes, giving Yusuke an understanding, yet confused smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
Yusuke can’t muster up a proper response to Akira’s words, so he only clears his throat and forces his eyes away from the pretty sight of Akira’s curled lips, directed towards him. Akira’s gaze makes its way back to the stars and planets lining the ceiling, and Yusuke notes that they looked brighter in the reflection of his eyes.
—
5.
While not being able to go to Los Angeles is disappointing, especially to most of his classmates, Yusuke finds himself elated by the change in plans for his school trip. Hawaii is much more aesthetically pleasing than the bustling city, in Yusuke’s opinion, and while it is hotter on the islands, Yusuke supposes it’s a fair trade to see better sights.
The flight itself is rather uneventful, as well as the trip to their hotel and check in. He’s able to quickly greet his friends as well before he’s ushered off to check into his room, which he thankfully gets to himself. By the time he’s settled in, it’s time for dinner, and he joins a few of his quieter classmates in dinner plans before going back to his room for bed.
It’s late in the evening when his phone buzzes on the nightstand, and Yusuke blearily turns to grab the device and thumb the display on, squinting at the sudden bright light. When his eyes adjust, he notices a text from Akira.
Akira Kurusu: Are you busy? We’re having a sleepover in my room.
Yusuke Kitagawa: Who is ‘we’?
Akira Kurusu: Ryuji and Ann.
Akira Kurusu: and Mishima.
Yusuke Kitagawa: I suppose I can sneak away to join you all. What is your room number?
His friend texts him back immediately with the number, and Yusuke lifts himself from bed to join his friends.
Sneaking away isn’t as hard as Yusuke originally thought, as he has no roommate and no one is in the halls of his floor. Not as though anyone would care, really. He’s sure many of his classmates have been joining each other in rooms and sneaking off into the night as well.
A short elevator trip finds Yusuke in front of Akira’s room, and before he can even lift a hand to knock the door swings open, revealing the happy, and slightly sunburnt face of Akira. His glasses are off.
“Yusuke,” he greets quietly, opening the door wide and stepping aside to clear space for Yusuke to enter. “I’m glad you could come.”
“It’s not like I was busy with anything else,” Yusuke sighs, entering the room. To his delight, the air conditioner was already turned on. Yusuke ventures into the room as Akira closes the door behind him, noting the two other people in the room.
Ann is spread out over the comfortable looking couch tucked against the wall, manicured nails audibly tapping away on her phone faster than Yusuke thought possible. Ryuji is by her feet on the floor, slouched against the side of the couch. He looks away from the TV as Yusuke enters.
“Yo,” a toothy grin is sent his way. “You joining the party?”
“Party?” Yusuke cocks his head. “I thought this was just a sleepover.”
Ryuji rolls his eyes and Yusuke hears Akira laugh behind him, stepping into the room as well. Akira steps around Yusuke to flop on one of the beds.
“Hmph, we can have a sleepover party. Stay up all night, drink soda and have snacks. That’s what parties are basically like, yeah?”
“Awe,” Ann speaks up, eyes still trained to her phone. “Of course you wouldn’t know what actual parties are like.”
Ryuji splutters and whips his head towards Ann, “whatever, dude! You wouldn’t either, so don’t act all high and mighty!”
Akira lifts his head from the thick comforter of his bed and looks at the two blondes fondly, shaking his head. He turns his gaze to Yusuke after a moment, and shifts to pat the bed as well.
Yusuke blinks, but accepts the invitation and drops himself onto Akira’s bed as well, a bit too close than he originally intended. Pressed shoulder to shoulder with Akira, the other teen looks embarrassed.
“Is something the matter?” Yusuke inquires, confused. He doesn’t see the look Ryuji and Ann give each other from across the room, focused on Akira’s face close up. There’s a light dusting of freckles across Akira’s face, perhaps brought out from the sun? They suit him.
“…no,” Akira replies slowly, slowly dropping his head back down onto the bed, turning it so he can still look at Yusuke. Despite the hesitation in his response, Akira looks very happy, for whatever reason. He nudges Yusuke’s shoulder with his own gently, before turning his attention back to the other two.
“Ready to start this ‘party’?”
Ryuji huffs and Ann laughs, but before either can reply, Yusuke looks around curiously. “What about your other friend? Mishima, was it?”
“Mm? Oh, He’s not feeling well,” Akira explains, but he doesn’t look too worried. “So it’s just a Phantom Thieves party, now.”
“Oh,” is all Yusuke says, propping himself up on his elbows. Akira does the same, their shoulders still pressed together as they lie on their stomachs on the bed, facing Ann and Ryuji.
“Ann mentioned wanting to play Truth or Dare before you came, you up for that?”
“Sure, though I’ve never played before.”
“You’ve never played Truth or Dare before?” Ryuji gawks, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees.
“Well no,” Yusuke sighs. “I’ve never really had friends to play it with before you guys.”
Akira shifts next to him, guiding Yusuke’s attention back to him. His friend grins. “Don’t worry, I can teach you how to play.”
Yusuke is quiet for a moment, perhaps longer than necessary, but Akira only squints his eyes in a playful manner. “I would appreciate it,” he finally replies, warmth filling his chest at Akira’s beam.
Against Ryuji’s previous statement, they don’t stay up all night, Ryuji being the first one to actually fall asleep about an hour after Yusuke’s arrival, with Ann following shortly after. Mishima slithered his way out of the bathroom a good while ago, deep asleep in his own bed pressed against the wall, leaving just Akira and Yusuke awake.
Akira’s quiet as he lifts himself off his stomach, conscious of their sleeping friends, and tugs back the covers until Yusuke raises himself off the bed too. Akira slips under the thick comforter and keeps it lifted as he shoots Yusuke a look, an open invitation. Yusuke doesn’t think as he accepts it, sliding into the comfort as well and pressing back to Akira’s side. His weight is a warm solace next to him, he notes as Akira shimmies a bit to get cozy, legs brushing against his own.
When Akira finally stills, he turns his head towards Yusuke. Yusuke can’t really see his face well in the dark, but he assumes Akira is smiling at him.
“Thanks for joining us,” Akira whispers, sounding pleased. Yusuke hums in response, dipping his head slightly to press against the side of Akira’s own. The shorter teen stiffens a bit, but quickly melts under the contact, letting out a pleased sigh. “Goodnight, Yusuke.”
“Goodnight to you too, Akira.” And with that, Yusuke closes his eyes, finding it fairly easy to drift off into the warm embrace of sleep, especially when he’s so warm and grounded. Yusuke can’t recall the last time he was this content.
—
+1
Tension runs thick in their friend group by the time mid-September rolls around, with the disappearance of one of their teammates and the bickering between those who remain.
Ryuji specifically is the most pent up out of all of them, with Ann and Makoto following close behind. After Ryuji and Morgana’s fight, which caused the cat to bolt off, the blond teen has been snappy, refusing to answer texts or come to group meetings. His anger has rubbed off on Ann, it seems, and though she’s been at meetings, it’s been difficult to talk to her, which has been clearly setting off Makoto as well, who’s taken it upon herself to try to lead the group alongside Akira.
Akira doesn’t protest her efforts much, nor does he protest anything. He doesn’t speak up, arms crossed over his chest as he stares holes into the table they drag out for team meetings. He looks tired, Yusuke can’t help but note, concern pitted deep in his chest for his dear friend.
After another unsuccessful meeting, his friends realizing they obviously won’t get anything done if they keep arguing everything, they begin to split off, Ann leaving first followed by Makoto. Futaba lingers a bit longer, but doesn’t stay, treading downstairs slowly to join her father in the cafe.
Akira doesn’t react to everyone leaving, simply staring at the old wood in front of him. Yusuke frowns and moves to stand by his friend’s side, snapping his attention back with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Akira looks up slowly, his eyes looking blurry and unfocused.
“Are we done already?” Akira asks slowly, seemingly now just noticing the emptiness of the attic sans Yusuke and himself.
“We’ve been done for a few minutes now, Akira,” he says gently, his hand moving to cup the back of Akira’s neck, tracing mindless patterns into his nape. Akira sighs and drops his head a bit, raising a shaking hand to massage between his eyes.
“Sorry,” Akira whispers, ducking his head lower. His shoulders begin to tremble. “Sorry, I’ll snap out of this soon. Next meeting, I’ll do better. Promise.”
Yusuke furrows his eyebrows. “What?”
Akira’s sigh is broken, “I’ll do better. That’s why you’re staying, right? To talk about my leadership? I’m just a bit distracted, but I won’t let you down. I swear.”
Akira’s words are absent, and Yusuke doesn’t know if he’s still talking to him or more to himself at this point. The taller teen sighs and moves to grip at Akira’s upper arms, dragging him out of his chair. Akira doesn’t protest, rising on unstable legs. He teeters to the side a bit.
“When was the last time you got proper rest, Akira? You look exhausted.”
Akira closes his eyes and doesn’t respond. Another sigh escapes past Yusuke’s lips before he tugs at Akira’s arms, guiding him to his bed in the corner of the room. Akira falls gracelessly onto his bed as the back of his knees hit the mattress, flopping back with an exhausted, barely audible groan.
“It’s hard,” Akira finally says, kicking his shoes off and curling up on top of the covers, still fully clothed in his day clothes. “Without Mona here. He always tells me when to sleep.”
Yusuke raises an eyebrow. “He tells you when to sleep? Is that why you’re tired, because you don’t have Morgana reminding you when to go to bed?”
Akira’s next sigh is a little frustrated, and he curls on his side toward the window, facing away from Yusuke. “Yes- well, no. I know when to go to bed, of course, but it’s hard without him here. He’s been with me since April. He’s always with me. He was always with me. I can’t sleep without him here with me. I’m so worried, Yusuke. I don’t know what to do.”
Yusuke turns his gaze away from his distraught friend and sits down on the edge of the bed as well, back to Akira’s curled up form. He rests his eyes on the meeting table, the chairs still pulled out.
“I’m supposed to be the leader,” Akira continues, a hitch in his breath. “But I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where Mona is, I don’t know if he’s safe.”
“I’m sure he is. Morgana can take care of himself, he’s not an ordinary cat.”
Akira sniffles, but Yusuke can’t bring himself to look at him, guilt settling in his chest like a rock.
“I know he’s not an ordinary cat. I know he’s probably not even a cat, but he’s still fragile like one. He’s my best friend, I feel so lost without him.”
“I’m sorry,” is all Yusuke can bring himself to say. He blinks away the burning in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Akira.”
“Do you think we’ll find him?” Akira asks quietly, uncertain by his own question. Yusuke hears the rustle of the bed sheets as Akira shifts, but Yusuke stays still, eyes turned to the floor now.
“I do,” Yusuke says truthfully, leaning back on his hands. “I just think he needs a bit of space. But he does care for you, Akira, that much is obvious. He’ll be back.”
Akira doesn’t reply, but as Yusuke straightens himself to look back at the other boy, a heavy weight falls against his back, arms winding around his waist and squeezing tightly. Yusuke startles and the arms tighten. He feels Akira’s head drop, forehead resting against the back of his shoulder and face pressed into his shirt. He goes still as a loud whimper escapes Akira, and Yusuke is frozen until he feels wetness seep into the fabric of his shirt.
Yusuke immediately twists in Akira’s grip and wraps his arms around his friend in turn, one hand splayed across his back and the other cupping the back of his head to cradle him into his chest.
“It’s okay,” Yusuke finds himself saying, tangling his fingers into the softness of Akira’s hair. The other teen melts into his grip. “You’re okay, Akira. We’ll find him. I swear by my words, we’ll be okay.”
“Thank you,” Akira whispers into his shoulder, leaning his full weight into Yusuke, who leans back to lay probably on the bed, dragging Akira with him, their legs entangling on top of the covers.
Yusuke lets Akira lay practically on top of him until his tears dry, and then some more as the shorter dozes off into a light sleep, encouraged by the hand tracing mindless designs onto the soft fabric of his shirt and into the short curls on the base of his neck.
(Akira is later awakened from a phone call from Ryuji, who’s full of apologies, and they do end up finding Morgana only a day later, both relieved to find him safe with an older student who goes to Akira’s school. It takes longer than Akira would like to actually get Morgana to come back home with him, but eventually he does, and Yusuke notes smugly that Morgana isn’t too pleased that Akira’s found a new bed partner in his absence. His fault for taking so long, Yusuke thinks next time he’s entangled in bed with Akira later that week, Morgana moping at the bottom of their bed by their feet.)