Work Text:
Propinquity
/prəˈpiNGkwədē/
noun
the state of being close to someone or something; proximity.
"he kept his distance as though afraid propinquity might lead him into temptation"
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He wasn’t sure how Atsushi ended up in his home. It was one of those nights – a long mission leaving his body tired and his brain slow, Gin would not be home, and a sense of loneliness he had once been able to ignore so easily could only be satiated by the weretiger’s kindness. Akutagawa had invited him over a few times, though he never remembered asking. It was as if he wasn’t himself, and when he came to, another presence was there to provide a sort of companionship. He wasn’t unconscious or anything, he just didn’t process his words until far later.
They were long past the stage of hatred. There was no need to pretend either – both men had come to know enough about the other that lying was pointless; and Akutagawa had no time for pointless things.
“Would you like some tea, Jinko?” Akutagawa asked suddenly, having fully come to terms with the fact that someone was once again in his home. He shouldn’t have allowed it – as a mafioso, the more people knew about personal aspects of his life, the worse off he was. Gin had never been home at the same time as Atsushi, though he supposed that didn’t matter. After all, the weretiger (as well as a few other members of the agency) already knew about their connection. Part of him could not feel worried, he trusted Atsushi too much.
“Sure!” Atsushi replied, but Akutagawa had already stood from the couch, leaving the other man to think. It was quiet for a few minutes, and both men simmered in their worries.
It was a horrifying realization, and one that he had every so often. Akutagawa trusted the weretiger, not only with his survival, but with his life. He trusted the man not to betray him in any way, even if their lives did not depend on it. That sort of trust was unwise, only good on the field. Otherwise, it could only be harmful. If someone were to notice Atsushi and his growing relationship, for example, what would stop them from threatening or using the weretiger to gain information about Akutagawa? Then there was the agency.
The Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency had an alliance now, yes. It was as strong as ever, and he did not see it ending any time soon. But he also had not predicted it would form in the first place. Do you see the issue? In their line of businesses, connections and alliances could change on a whim, plans carefully thought out by their boss but never divulged to the rest. It made sense – Akutagawa was their hellhound, and while he was feared and respected by many of those below him, his intelligence and planning were not what the mafia valued.
By allowing himself to get too close with the weretiger, he was only setting the both of them up for failure. At the end of the day, they would both have to choose their respective jobs over anything else. While both organizations had the same goals, their morals and tactics were wildly different.
Akutagawa sometimes wondered what his place in the mafia would be if Mori ever decided to question his sudden lack of killing. He still got his job done, though, so there had been no issues. Still, couldn’t an obvious relation with Atsushi put him under further scrutiny?
He knew all of these risks, turned the thoughts in his head every time he felt a moment of genuine happiness or even affection with the weretiger. The worst part of it all, though, was despite knowing all of this, he could not bring himself to push Atsushi away. Not again. It would be stupid to even try – the other man already knew how much Akutagawa cared for him.
His hands trembled as he prepared their tea, and he knew the only way to ease his worries would be to keep physical distance between them, if they were not fighting.
“Are you alright, Akutagawa?” Atsushi’s voice was laced in concern that should not be directed towards him, and he once again was forced to acknowledge the fact that he and the weretiger knew each other too well. He could lie – and that he would – Atsushi wouldn’t push it. But he would know.
“I’m fine, Jinko. Now, keep quiet, you’re distracting me.” It was a deflection, meant to annoy Atsushi enough so that he would not question anything. Whether or not it really worked, Akutagawa didn’t know. Atsushi responded as if it did, though.
“Jeez, I was just making sure. You’re shaking.”
Akutagawa placed a mug on the table in front of Atsushi, making sure to sit a little further away than he had before. He did not respond to the weretiger’s comments, instead taking a sip of his tea. It was a brand Atsushi had mentioned enjoying once or twice, though he was not sure if it was the correct flavor. Based on his face, Akutagawa felt safe to assume it was.
“Thank you, Akutagawa.” He said with a smile, one that was far too genuine for such a simple task. Atsushi placed his mug back down after taking a few more sips, scootching closer to the other man. He did his best not to back away in response. “I’m… really glad we’ve gotten closer.”
Akutagawa said nothing. It was not often that he felt frozen or unable to think of a single reasonable action, and to be rendered useless from such a foolish thing infuriated him. He should not be acting this way – simple comments like those should either go unnoticed or serve to fuel his abilities. And yet, a mixture of affection and fear left him paralyzed. He should not trust the weretiger so much, should not feel so warm after hearing those words. Most of all, he should not agree. Yet, he did.
It was horrifying.
“Akutagawa?” A hand was placed on his shoulder, and he flinched slightly, pulled back to reality.
“You say such foolish things, Jinko.” He said flatly, turning his gaze elsewhere. He did not brush Atsushi’s hand away, though, and its prolonged presence was a mixture of nauseating and comforting. “...I cannot say I disagree, though.”
“Can I hug you?” The question was blurted out in the way that told Akutagawa Atsushi had been considering it for a moment, and had allowed it to escape before he could repress the thought.
“Excuse me?” He finally turned his head back towards Atsushi, his eyes widening. They moved around, searching the man’s face for any hint of what he might be feeling or trying to achieve. Something was there, but he could not understand what.
They stayed like that for a minute, neither saying a word. Slowly, hesitantly, Akutagawa nodded. It was twisted curiosity, and he wondered if the horribly conflicting feeling of joy and pain would spread through his whole body the moment he was held. He found it interesting – his body was mostly numb to injury and beatings, yet this was distressing?
He also craved Atsushi’s affection, even if he tried to deny it.
“Okay.” It was soft, and the weretigers voice cracked as he said it.
Being hugged was the worst comfort Akutagawa had felt. It was warm and safe, and Atsushi placed his head into the crook of the other man’s neck, and he had seldom felt so loved. But the knowledge that it would end, temporarily, forever, caused his stomach to twist. His skin burned wherever he was touched, but he embraced it, pulling Atsushi’s body further into his own.
His face felt wet, and with a burst of humiliation and shame, he realized he was crying. He did not make any sounds, and the only difference was that his breaths became shorter as he swallowed down any noises trying to escape.
“It’s okay.” Atsushi muttered against his skin, and a small kiss was pressed to his neck. Akutagawa shuddered, and so did his breath. He closed his eyes, hoping that the minimization of his senses would help him calm down. All it did was make it so every movement, exhale, and hum was felt as Atsushi continued to murmur things into his skin. Maybe if he was close enough, the words would sink directly into Akutagawa’s body, making them fundamental truths. If anyone was capable of it, it’d be the weretiger.
Gentle kisses slowly made their way up Akutagawa’s neck, and he was astounded that no part of him wanted to push Atsushi away. Instead, he placed a hand on the back of the man’s head, running his fingers through his hair. It was surprisingly soft, and much thicker than Akutagawa’s.
Atsushi’s lips reached his jaw, and Akutagawa could hear him whispering.
“You’ve done so well, been so strong,” He said, “I’m happy you’re in my life.”
Akutagawa’s heart was beating too fast, his chest was tight, and his skin was warm. Even the tears felt nice, having come from affection rather than something worse. He pulled Atsushi’s head away from him, and for a moment, the man looked as though he had done something wrong. He understood, though, when Akutagawa turned his head and leaned forward slightly, his hold on Atsushi still gentle.
The kiss was soft and slow, so unlike anything else they had experiences with one another. Atsushi brought a hand up to cup Akutagwa’s face, and he pulled him in further, pressing them together, hoping foolishly that if they were close enough the moment would never end.
Atsushi rested his forehead against Akutagawa’s after pulling away, a large smile on his face. Akutagawa couldn’t help but reciprocate, though his was far more subtle.
“I am honored to be a part of your life, Atsushi.”