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"This isn’t small potatoes,” Ren says softly, his voice barely rising above the quiet hum of LeBlanc’s dying lights. The boy’s boney hands grip the counter tightly, knuckles white. Outside, the night is still. As he exited, Maruki left behind a dense chill that just wouldn’t go away. He left behind so many threads and just two choices; one of which was eating Akechi alive. One which Ren was, he’s beginning to rapidly realize, taking into consideration after Maruki threw his last Joker card into the spiel.
Himself. A bargaining chip.
It’s baffling. It’s infuriating. It’s eating him alive. And then he says shit like -
Love is not a potato. You can’t throw it out the window. Death is not a potato. Chekov’s novel has even the cold Pavel stop dead in his tracks as his disappointed wife pleads for him to help those in need.
Goro freezes mid-step, scarf wrapped tight around his neck, crimson eyes glinting.
"What do you mean?!" He spins around, closing the distance between them with two heavy steps. His voice cracks, raw and unsteady, "Don’t say things like that!” he’s grabbing his shoulders, but slowly relaxes the longer Ren just stares there in shock, looking at him with apprehension and fear. It makes him pause, the pinpricks of his eyes refocusing on Ren’s face, “Please tell me you’re joking”, he whispers.
Ren gulps visibly, and it breaks something in Goro’s frail heart. He shakes his head slowly, then takes a step back, continuing to shake his head in disbelief. His hands are shoved into his pockets as he turns to leave LeBlanc, but Ren comes up to him to wrap his fingers around his wrist. It makes Goro pause, but he doesn’t dare turn back. Ren is careful as he tiptoes around him to take a look at his face; his nose is facing down, buried in the soft scarf around his neck. It’s like approaching a wounded animal, fierce enough to protect itself but still scared.
“I’m not joking”, Ren says silently, trying to hide the tremble of his lip as the words slip out. He smiles toothily, scared to hell and back himself as he presses down on his wrist, causing Goro’s sight to shift just slightly, just enough to make him see he’s still paying attention, “That would be… a cruel joke.”
Love. Love. Akechi doesn't understand. He doesn’t need to. He doesn’t buy it.
“I don’t need this shit right now”, his voice is unnecessarily strained as he hisses at him, pulling his hand away harshly. Ren’s stays in the air, with his gray eyes wide and honest, and Goro gasps at the raw intesity, looks down. He exhales a shaky breath.
Nothing makes sense anymore. Ren… Ren can’t possibly know what he’s talking about. And to think that he’s threatened him, betrayed him, almost killed him, and tried his damndest to be as cold as he could during the day, no matter how much he still wanted to play a game of chess with him. No matter how much his heart ached to know more about the boy he was going to leave behind. No matter how much he’d much rather drown himself in Ren’s voice when he finally spoke about something that lied close to his heart.
And Amamiya Ren still looks at him like he’s someone who matters, who he wants in his life. While no one has ever - it has to be a joke. It has to be one of Maruki’s tricks, to crawl into his heart and pull the last heartstring holding him together. It’s fake, he himself is fake, Ren is, LeBlanc is; nothing in this godforsaken world is real and even his very own friend -
His vision is filled with tiny white dots that cloud his eyes, his brain trying to process what is going on as he feels his ears clog, a heavy static, annoying sound filling his eardrums. His limbs are there, but weak, and he can’t feel them; can’t see nor hear what is going around him.
He knows this feeling.
His breathing is labored, he knows what’s coming because he’s been there time and time again but he can’t help it; he’s even controlling his breathing, he’s counting, he’s desperately trying to find objects around him and just relax, relax, relax, but his body is trembling and it’s giving him even more anxiety as he feels his limbs get numb, feels the tingling in his fingertips as he’s clenching them to get the sensation of actually feeling something in his hands and he’s trying to keep his mouth shut to breathe through his nose but he can’t - he’s pressing a hand to his chest to stop it but he can’t -
There’s a few thuds, and he believes he sees Ren’s panicked eyes as he’s reaching for him, and he can’t feel his body but he’s moving towards him, latching onto whatever fabric there is to stop the fall that’s happening.
But he remains standing.
He never remains standing.
He lifts his head just enough to see Joker there; perfect, strong, foolish Joker, arm slung around his neck, guiding him somewhere—booths in the café, maybe. But he can’t tell. He only sees a surface. He doesn’t know what the surface will do - fade as he lays his hands on it to support himself, stay rigid under him, eat him alive…? Fingers weave into his hair, grounding, steadying. His chest is so tight—why can’t he just pass out already?
A glass is shoved into his hand. Joker’s trembling thin fingers make sure his grip is tight enough so the glass is not dropped.
He’s not that weak.
He knows what he’s doing.
He drinks from the glass gulp by gulp, the liquid faintly sweet but he doesn’t care much. He could be drinking poison and he would still trust this man. His brain is finally, finally, beginning to connect the pieces of the puzzle, and he sees Joker’s caring, regretful eyes staring back at him as he feels his chest get lighter, controlling his breathing better. He doesn’t want to see that look on him, that look of pity or gentleness or care for him. He just wants to see - nothing. Nothing at all.
Joker’s hands cup his face lightly; the touch feather-soft. He’s staring wide-eyed at Ren as he removes the touch of liquid stuck to his lips, then proceeds to take in his eyes, the wrinkles under them, the black circles, his furrowed brows, chin, the few razor cuts on his jaw. And once again, he’s left at his mercy; speechless.
And Joker doesn’t speak either. He sits next to him, the weight warm and - grounding. Incredibly grounding. Every fiber of his being wants to latch onto Joker and bury himself in this feeling, this false sense of security he has to let go off - he sits there, eyes downcast as he feels his breathing steady. Joker takes a lock of hair between his fingers and neatly tucks it behind his ear - a gesture his mother used to make when he was just beginning to grow out his hair and his eyes flutter shut. Hah. He’s always wanted to be just like her. And in the end… in the end…
He shakes his head.
“Ren, please”, his voice is raspy as he pleads; he’s been reduced to nothing but a sorry, scared creature; just what he’d never want his rival to see. Just what he tried to take to his grave. But Joker just has this uncanny ability to crawl under someone’s skin and make them spill all their thoughts, “Just let me go”, he whispers.
There’s a spark in Ren’s eyes as he considers the words. Instead of answering, though, he keeps threading through his hair carefully with an unparalleled focus he’s only ever seen him exhibit in combat and in the games they’d play together.
“It was just selfish indulgence”, he realizes he’s said it out loud now, but feels too exhausted to try to hide it. So he locks in, “I knew my life would be worthless after Shido. That I’d either be jailed for life or killed off secretly. I was just indulging myself, hanging out with you. I just wanted someone that would - ” want me around, he doesn’t finish, and lets the meaning be lost. The way I wanted to be around them.
He looks to the floor, furrowing his brows, “Leave. Take care of your needs for once. You don’t need me”, he looks into those bright eyes, “You don’t need this reality.”
“Goro, I - ” Ren starts, then shuts his mouth and shakes his head. He’s never heard him say his name before, so it comes as a shock to him. Too close. He’s too fucking close - and the moment he wants to slide out of the booth, Ren grips him by the cuffs again, a storm in his eyes as he looks at him from down below, “Please understand that I want you around too.”
“You - ” he’s speechless. For once, no lie sounds pretty enough to tell, interesting enough to elicit information, “You really are…” his eyes are beginning to feel hot, so he blinks to compose himself and looks away. It’s easier not to look at him and to pretend he doesn’t want him around. He can’t slip - he can’t let his resolve be shaken. If Joker agrees to accept Maruki’s sob story, he could lose everything he is. Once again, he sneaks a look at Ren, seeing that the storm in his eyes has subsided into something much softer.
And then Joker picks up his hand gently, fingers shaking terribly as he presses his red lips between his knuckles; just a gentle peck that makes his brain short-circuit. He smiles weakly, but then he lets out a quiet little sob, and Akechi knows Ren hates himself for it. Akechi’s hands rush to clasp his trembling hand harshly, holding it steadily between his. There’s a desperate beat in the cage called his heart as he wants to say something to Ren, but words just won’t form. He’s just stuck gazing at the young man that he’d call his other half, if the world had permitted it.
Akechi reaches for Joker’s other hand and warms them both in his. Ren looks at their intertwined hands, shoulders stiff. When their eyes meet, Goro sees the leader of the Phantom Thieves again, a steely resolve in his eyes.
“I’m not taking the deal”, he speaks silently, “This doesn’t change anything”, he huffs, “But please. Consider how much you mean to me, too”, there’s a dust of pink across his cheeks Goro still quite can’t believe is real, because he’s been wishing for this very sight ever since he’s realized just how similar they are. Back in Jazz Jin, when they’d just stop to listen to the low tunes of the music playing in the background, and Ren would stare vehemently at the drink in his hand. But he still shakes his head.
“I don’t deserve this”, he mutters under his breath.
“I want this”, Ren responds, pulling him just a bit closer, “You want it too, right?” he asks silently, as if afraid Goro would say no. As if Goro could hold back forever. His heart is beating out of his chest for a completely different reason now.
Before he can stop himself, he pulls the other boy into a rough embrace, the way he’s seen people do it, and hopes it feels alright. Ren relaxes against him, the soft skin of his cheek pressing against his jaw, curly soft locks tickling him. Joker returns the hug once composed, and Goro’s hand finds itself against the back of his head, pressing him just a bit closer as his right hand grips Ren’s shirt tightly, forming creases. It just feels right.
When Ren finally pulls away, he gives him a look that Goro doesn’t understand.
“Stay tonight”, Ren’s voice is tight, but certain, “We don’t have to do anything. Just… stay.”
Goro hesitates. He doesn’t say anything as he tries to find the lie in his words, a dagger pressed to his neck; but he sees nothing. Only a boy that genuinely wants him here. Goro’s mind is once again blank, his heart clenching miserably at the lack of action.
So he does what Goro Akechi does best - lets his frail heart decide.
He leans just close enough into his space to feel the lingering smell of coffee on the other; close enough to be able to notice the few spots on his face, how long his dark eyelashes really are. Ren doesn’t flinch. Just watches him endlessly curiously, the way he’d watch a chess piece travel across the field before it’s his turn to move again. The back and forth between them is mesmerizing. Joker is mesmerizing. It’s just too much.
There, in the comfort of the dim light of LeBlanc, Goro Akechi kisses Ren as if he’s taking his last breath.