Chapter Text
The Phantom Thieves had done it again, stolen another heart and were chilling at LeBlanc having a mini celebration-catchup for their efforts. Akira was dishing out free cups of Sojiro's coffee collection and had raided the fridge to scoop together enough ingredients to make a very substantial pot of curry for everyone to tuck into. Surprisingly, Sojiro had agreed after much begging but warned him not to use it all or he would have to buy all new ingredients out of his own pocket, which was a fair deal.
Haru was a fine addition to their group and she added a certain decorum to the ensemble, correcting Ryuji on how to drink the beverage correctly to give him a bit more class to his character. "If I may ask, do we simply wait now?" Polite as ever, she piped up to propose a question. It was still weird to think that in the metaverse she wielded an axe half her size and slashed into the shadows with ease, obliterating them.
"Yes, we followed all the steps, just keep a lookout but we can just relax until then." Morgana answered, popping up on the table side stool he was perching on, beaming at the group with those potent blue eyes, "I've still got a lot to teach you all to get you up to scratch, you're still all amateurs... so we need to keep this group together- so I can train you all!"
The group exchanged knowing looks and nodded collectively, passing a few laughs between them.
"How'd 'bout a toast leader?!" Ryuji butted in, slinging his arm around Akira's shoulders, pulling him in, but not too close, just enough so the tips of their ears touched for a brief moment and their chests awkwardly clashed together side on. Akira had gotten used to the physical contact Ryuji gave him and had always just gone along with it, but recently, his motives were a little different. Ryuji’s shoulder pats, momentary chest bumps, high fives and occasional hugs had been hitting different.
He like, liked him... no, he was head over heels in love with him. The stupid type of love, the type that wasn't logical, making his heart flutter whenever he got a text, making him want to drop everything and run on a train in the early hours of the morning just to see that face poking through a window. He was thinking about the blonde 24/7, all round the clock- he couldn't sleep without giving into a fantasy. These daydreams didn't stay at home either, no, they followed him into school and into every class when he zoned out, getting rudely awoken and snapping out of it by a ruler or other piece of stationery being lobbed at his head.
Only in dreams could he fantasize about the impossible. About an alternate reality where Ryuji, the man who was always talking about getting a girlfriend, would look twice at him.
Nothing could change the fact that Ryuji was straight. Even if he confessed to get closure and get the feelings flushed out of his system, he'd get shot down and ruin their friendship which was another thing he didn't want. Rejection was definite. He was just being realistic, he couldn't turn a straight man gay, that's just not how people worked.
Out of all the people who would be straight, Ryuji had to be one of them. He was constantly staring at Ann and her boobs and gossiping about which girls were single in his classes and how if he told them he was a Phantom Thief, not like they'd believe him, how he'd get loads of dates and would be swimming in girls. That was a very straight warning flag.
So many times Akira had wanted to ask, but he always couldn't find the right words or the right setting. Cafes were too formal, restaurants were too romantic and public, in his attic room sounded suggestive as hell... But he did want to know, he was using his Phantom Thief detective skills to note down every possibly gay thing Ryuji did. He knew it was stupid but doing nothing was just killing him.
Staying away would've been a wise decision, letting his feelings slowly fade away over time would've been the perfect plan! Haha... he didn't do that.
When Ryuji slung his arm around him this time, he indulged himself, sinking into the safety net of the crook of Ryuji’s shoulder ever so slightly, just enough so Ryuji wouldn't notice. The blonde would forever be oblivious to his pathetic advancements... but the rest of the group, he wasn’t sure. Futaba might pick up on it, or Ann, but Morgana was the biggest threat of being a blabbermouth and with the added risk of Morgana always being around, poking his intrusive fuzzy head into every section of his life, he couldn't do anything too obvious.
"Sorry, you want me to do a toast?" He queried, lifting his head swiftly back up, remembering what Ryuji'd said before he zoned out, dreaming again.
"Yeah, comeon dude! Your speeches are the best."
“A toast to the Phantom Thieves, teamwork really does make the dreamwork.” He cleared his throat, holding up one of his signature editions of Sojiro’s cups just above eye-level, “And to the best group of friends, comrades and-“ Subtly, body maintaining the same position he allowed his eyes, only for a millisecond, to catch a glimpse of Ryuji’s face, still and determined. He noticed everything, how his hazelnut eyes had a certain irreplaceable twinkle, the cute dimples that appeared whenever he smiled, how his hair was subtly gelled up, how the roots were growing out again, noticeably black. And... how he was looking back at him.
How his eyes were soft and sexy and...
He forced himself to look away.
That look wasn't innocent, he knew that much... but what was it? Did it have some ulterior motive, was it intentionally one of the most seductive looks he'd ever gotten?! He must be seeing things, making a big thing of something that was actually nothing, reading too much into it. But what if Ryuji, he dared himself to think, was well aware of what he was doing. “-Partners I could ever have wished for. Cheers.” Partners.
They chatted so casually, like as if they were normal teenagers not burdened with the task of reforming all of Japanese society. For one night, they were an ordinary, diverse group of high schoolers, telling jokes and ghost stories, embarrassing anecdotes from their pasts. Ann reminisced about her middle school days, where she was a fresh-faced foreigner in Japan, starting a new school all alone and standing on her own two feet in a seemingly impenetrable city. She spoke so seriously about it and the group listened in and no one made jokes. “So I knew like, nobody and my parents were off on another opportunity doing some filming over in Sweden. School was a challenge. When you look like someone who doesn't belong, people don’t really want to get all friendly and cosy with you so I didn't have many friends, or any really. This is before Shiho fyi. Anyway, so, on the third week in, this guy with jet-black gelled hair comes up to my desk and just starts chatting as if we've been friends for years. He's really obnoxious but nice and kind, y'know? So I tell him how I’m feeling all down and the next day he disappears off the face of the earth. I don’t see him for like, a few weeks- then BAM, in he comes, hair so neon yellow it's practically glowing- everyone’s looking, the teacher’s speechless, and he waltzes all cool to my desk, hands in his pockets with a swagger and says, ‘People ain’t looking at you no more don’t worry ‘bout it’... thennnnnn he gets suspended for 2 weeks.” With a flick of her index finger, she pointed towards Ryuji with a smirk. “Sometimes he can be really nice... when he’s not being a dick.”
"Wait that was you, Ryuji?" Haru questioned, nearly spitting out her coffee when she realised.
"Yeah, yeah, fuck that was a long time ago... a-and I ain’t that bad! Right, Akira?”
He had to restrain himself from giving into the large brown puppy dog eyes, giving him a condescending pat on the shoulder and smoothly unwinding his body from Ryuji's arm that for some reason refused to budge, “I meannn, your hair is very bright... and you are really loud. Ann's not too far off.” He gave a little ruffle of the blonde's hair.
"For real...?!" He faked offence and leaned over to steal Akira's glasses in revenge for messing up his hair, only for him to dodge it with expert proficiency.
”Ryuji’s origin story at last! Anime protagonist hair- totally saw it coming.” Futaba chirped in, adjusting her glasses up her nose and looking down condescendingly, “Not high enough level to beat any bosses yet. You gotta train more and get rid of that NPC energy.”
The group laughed at that but hardly anyone knew what she was really on about, they weren't true gamers like Futaba was, they didn't have the skills or the lingo to propose a battle of gaming lexis. Futaba would throw out an easy HP question to help lure them in and then immediately kill them by talking about loot boxes or the Konami code, finding it hilarious as they squirmed trying to guess what she meant.
"So this is Ryuji's true nature, beneath the spikes may there be an inkling of sincerity and compassion... Ah, this is it! You have inspired my next piece." He swooped up a stray napkin off the counter and started sketching onto it frantically with the pen he always carried around, ushering Ryuji over and framing his face with his two hands, "Pose as if the meaning of hidden beauty has come to you, the fiery compassion that burns within your soul."
Just as Akira was about to swoop in to intervene and stop Ryuji from being hauled off and used as Yusuke's model, Makoto tapped his shoulder ever so gently to get his attention in a composed way, "Us girls were about to engage in a game of never have I ever, care to join us?" He had nothing else to do and couldn't think of a way to get out of it so agreed with a swift nod of the head. This was a fatal error. He'd heard myths, rumours of girl's party games but had never believed they could get so intrusive or intense so quickly. They all sat attentively at the major booth in the middle of LeBlanc, perking up with perfect focused postures in complete tense silence that could be cut with a knife. There was a soft rendition of a jazz track on the radio in the background as Ann explained the rules clearly and concisely, “We take turns saying a statement about something you haven’t done, like... um, never have I ever... crushed on a teacher! And if you have, you’ve got to take a sip of coffee... shame we don’t have any sake or else we’d get blitzed!”
“-And it’s illegal, we’re underage.”
“I was joking! Yeah, joking... coffee’s better than sake anyday.” Ann backtracked, smiling and fiddling with her twintails, “Who’s gonna start?”
”Me me! I’ve got a goodun! nweheheh... never have I ever played sports!”
The table erupted in a communal low groan as Futaba grinned dorkily to herself. Makoto, Ann, and Haru all drank up, Akira following on.
Haru composed herself, “That was quite a... bitch move, Futaba-chan! Now, how about... never have I ever dated anyone. By choice.” It had always stunned Akira how such a sweet, distinguished and calm spoken young woman could flip at the press of a button to a whole new, ‘not shit taking’ attitude, which could make a man sweat buckets. Her fiancé didn't know what he was getting into if he ever thought he could control her.
However, Akira wasn’t nervous because of Haru’s hidden dark side, he was nervous due to the nature of the question: dating, relationships, emotional or physical intimacy between two people. Had he ever? Yes. Long before he had accepted his gayness, there’d been a girl back in his hometown, a Shoji master aiming for the big leagues. Her hair was luxuriously dark, like melted dark chocolate and smooth as silk. She always had her hair parted a little to one side and always wore a red roped ribbon in the shape of a four-leaf clover, said to bring about good luck and fortune. She was a kind-spirited girl, beautiful in all sorts of ways, but Akira was never attracted to her.
He thought it would come with time, but it never did.
It was embarrassing to admit exactly how many times he googled, 'Am I gay', 'Asexuality test' or 'Sexuality quiz'. The answers told him many things.
1. He was probably definitely gay.
2. Not asexual, just wasn't interested in sex... with women. (refer to 1.)
3. Buzzfeed had some really weird quizzes- e.g: Favourite pizza says when you're going to die!
It was new and scary like he'd discovered a whole new part of himself that he'd, excuse the pun, locked away in a closet for the first 16 years of his life. He stayed up and pulled all-nighters and researched, reading up on what he was feeling, visiting various forums over the next couple of months, posting his thoughts, getting advice. Eventually, he was comfortable to put a name to the feeling that had always been there lurking at the bottom of his heart. He was gay and proud, simple as that.
There was the small, minor issue, however, that he still had a girlfriend at the time. Which was actually a pretty big issue.
He didn't want to be a dick so as hard as it was, the night after she played her final qualifying shoji tournament and won, he sat her down and explained everything in amidst of many apologies, deep breaths and near-breakdowns. He even gave her permission to slap him across the face for keeping something so big from her... but that made her laugh instead. She patiently sat there through it all, arms laid out on her lap and listened right to the end, "Thank you for telling me, Akira. This must've been hard... I-I know you'll find someone a-amazing, and you've always got me, okay? Just give me a little bit of time. I just need to... I just."
Akira understood, hearing that her boyfriend was gay probably wasn't the best news in the world. "Yeah," he'd said, "A-And... Same to you. Next boyfriend you get will be so much better than me... I bet he'll be smarter and funnier and fitter..." He tried to make her laugh. As she gathered her stuff up to leave, he added on, "I'm sorry, Hifumi."
When he snapped out of it, he was being stared at by the rest of the girls, Futaba flicking his forehead, "Earth to Akira! What happened, were you abducted by aliens or something?"
"Nah, I bet he's trying to hide some juicy gossip from us all!" Ann flashed him a smirk, hauling Futaba away from him and plonking her back in her seat.
He looked down at his coffee and frowned, it had gone cold but he took a disgusting sip of it anyway and the squad erupted with intrusive questioning, getting the attention of all the Phantom Thieves who began to crowd around the table as well, tuning in just in time to hear Akira talk about his spicy love life. "It's not that exciting guys, just someone I knew back in my hometown, we had a little romance. "
Ryuji interjected, giving him the side-eye, "Anyone we might know?"
"I'm not spilling those beans, I've got to keep some secrets from you guys or they'd be no mystery." He excused himself from the booth with a smirk and a flourish, taking his cup and washing it up in the sink as the others looked on in disbelief.
"Oh come onnnnn..."
"Nope, not telling."
"I bet I could find out."
"You'll never get that info out out me, Ann. Never in a million years."
Ann rolled her eyes, "W-Well that was just to ease you into the game. Now the real questions begin."
Real questions? Oh no. If Akira really didn't play his cards right he could be exposed.
Then Makoto said something innocently devilish. "Never have I ever... liked another member of the Phantom Thieves romantically."
Ho boy. To drink or to not drink, that was the question. Most of the others looked conflicted as well, excluding Yusuke and Futaba who simpled folded their arms with the confidence of someone who was telling the truth and Makoto who had proposed the question, vicariously admiring the tense chaos that would ensue. Akira made up his mind. If he ever wanted something to happen between him and Ryuji, he had to put himself out there a little more. Even if this was the tiniest, shittiest little step, it was a move in the right direction.
So he took a sip of his cold coffee.
Ann did.
Haru too.
Then Ryuji.
Morgana would've but he couldn't reach the cup.
However, there was a new revelation to focus on. Ryuji drank. He actually- shit. What if it wasn't him? Oh fuck thoughts like that. Akira promised himself then, that before the night was over, he'd make a move and face the repercussions whatever they were.
Just as it looked like Ann was about to ask him a question, the door slammed open and everybody screamed in unison, just seeing a figure of an old man in the doorway amongst the darkness. Luckily it wasn't an axe murderer, it was Sojiro... but he didn't look very happy with the teens. "You are making a lot of noise, I've been getting complaints. What on gods earth have you been doing tonight? I did say you could use this place for your little party but it's nearly midnight, I mean your folks must be getting worried and I don't want no calls. Futaba, it's too late for you, go to the house."
"Oh Sojiro-!' She complained, giving up when he gave her a stern fatherly stare, "Mwah wah, game over guys..." After a little sign-off wave, she scampered home, Sojiro following on after hear, giving a direct look to the rest of the group, heading off with a final groan.
Makoto was instantly on top of things, organising away, "I don't remember it getting this late... does anyone need a ride? I'll call a car." Everyone was really thankful that Makoto was the organiser of the group and nodded frantically so they were actually able to get home. Yusuke managed to finally persuade Ann to let him stay at hers because his dorms closed at 11 and he was a real homeless artist for the night. Even Morgana snuck into Ann's bag, figuring that when they were at her house, it would be too late for him to be sent back- plus it would be a great change of pace from sleeping in that attic.
After some farewells, everyone was gone and LeBlanc was nearly silent, apart from Ryuji who was still loitering around in a booth with a dorky smile on his face, meaning he wanted something, he bit his lip then came out with it, “I didn't wanna say it in front of the others or nothin' but my mom’s uh... gotta shift on so she’s kinda left locked me out, ‘could I hang here for tonight? I’ll sleep wherever 'not asking for the bed or nothing! It's just she's gotta lot of work on recently and all...”
Akira felt his body begin to get hot, starting at his ears and slowing sinking down lower and lower until he managed a fumbled out reply, “Yeah. N-No problem."
"Cheers man... you're for real saving my ass here!"
Just seeing that face, happy and excitable like a puppy, it made Akira melt. He never outwardly really emoted but his thoughts were always speeding off at 1000mph and when it came to Ryuji, that speed tripled, ideas about one day confessing bounced off all the walls in his brain; thoughts about kissing him or even just hugging him. He was finding himself squealing whenever he received texts or phone calls, his hands getting sweaty as when he spotted him distantly in the streets of Shibuya, the thrill of his heart rate shooting up when Ryuji invited him afterschool to go get ramen or to run laps around the courtyard.
”I'm goin' to head up.” With that, Ryuji left for upstairs, stairs creaking under his weight, leaving Akira alone to wash up. As he ran the dishes over with soapy water, he couldn't help but let his mind wander off again. He and Ryuji had been best friends since day one, both outcasts brought together due to events out of their control because sleazy adults felt entitled enough to take what wasn't theirs. He wasn't a violent person in real life, but when he heard Kamoshida bragging about how he'd broken Ryuji's leg just for the hell of it, if he hadn't been on thin ice already, he would've broken that bastard's nose.
With a small pep-talk to get himself ready, he flicked off the lights, made sure the sign was turned around to 'closed' and headed on upstairs.
What was waiting for him was Ryuji, idling around standing and staring at one of his shelves where he'd mounted countless photos and trinkets from everywhere he'd explored in Tokyo from the day he'd arrived. He lingered on the stairs, sneaking back down a couple of steps so he could look at Ryuji through the bannister looking at all of his items, seeing which ones took his fancy. He noted his eyeline, his eyes moving in synch with the blonde's tracking where he was looking. Then he picked up a photo frame.
Akira knew it well, this photo, it was the first selfie the two of them had ever taken; it was rushed and the opposite of photogenic, but it summed them up in a nutshell, unorganised and chaotic but comfortable as they fitted together aesthetically, personalities meshing. Oh, how he loved that photo. He steadied his nerves, fighting against every nervous bone in his body, and when he was ready, he headed up the stairs, catching Ryuji as he scrambled to put the photo down, "Yo, you close up?”
“Sure did.”
“Neat. I owe ya, one buddy, for real... but could I get some pjs?" He asked heading over and perching at the end of Akira’s bed, manspreading all over the place, “Why does our uniform have to be so extra, eh? Fucking plaid, who’s idea was it to have this shitty design...”
He fished a spare shirt and joggers out of his drawers and threw them over, hitting Ryuji square in the face with an thud, making him fall back onto the sheets and scramble to get the bundle off his face, seeming to get more caught and tangled up by the second. Eventually neon hair was spotted again as he sprung up, giving a thumbs up in his direction.
It was a strange sight seeing Ryuji in his clothes, seeing a plain grey colour on him that didn’t harness an offensive or brash logo was a rare sight indeed. He liked it. He liked being the only one to ever see Ryuji like this.
"I've got Cake Knight Rises on DVD. My player's a little old but the picture's good, wanna give it a watch?" I know it's your favourite. He asked ever so casually, dangling the disk between two fingers.
Ryuji's jaw dropped so far it could've hit the floor. "You didn't! I been wantin' to see this for ages..."
Of course Akira knew this. He'd been around all different stores in Shibuya, Kichijoji and Akihabara in search for it and in the end had to make a most likely illegal back-alley deal with a strange man in exchange for a rare idol figure that he had to enlist Futaba to scour the entire internet for. Together they pulled 2 all-nighters but had eventually hunted it down and made the trade. "Oh no whaaaat, this is such a surprise! It's not like you've been going on about it since the day it came out or anything."
"Oh shudapp. Seems proper sus. I bet you want somethin’." Ryuji teased, giving his fluffy-haired friend a cocky all-knowing smirk.
"We can just not watch this y'know? You piss me off and I'll give it to Yusuke." He shot back snarkily, pretending to put the disk back into its case. Ryuji narrowed his eyes, "You wouldn't."
Akira nodded and shrugged, "You want to know the worst part?"
"What?"
Ryuji was hooked. Films made him weak. Although he told everyone else he was a casual fan of the films where shit blows up and there's guns and fast cars, Akira knew he got weak at the knees for them and got so invested that he learnt them off by heart which was soulcrushingly adorable to picture, Ryuji sitting there mimicking in time with the actors like a fanboy.
"The worst part is that he doesn't even like these sort of films. He'd probably throw it out."
To Ryuji, this was heresy. “Don’t even joke ‘bout that.”
Sensing that the blonde wasn’t kidding, Akira caved and resisted from continuing on the teasing, popping the disk into the TV and hearing the player whirl round and round until the screen illuminated with super colourful production company logos, sitting down on the sofa right beside it. Ryuji jumped on it so hard that the whole thing could've snapped in half, throwing himself with such power that sent it rocking backwards with a jerk that made them both yelp out before it steadied itself.
"S-Shit! Sorry dude, fucking hell that shit got my heart goin’!”
“M-Mine too.“ His heart was going, but for a different reason than he knew Ryuji’s was. When the sofa had rocked backwards, the blonde had unknowingly and instinctively grabbed his hand. There were many articles about how fear can expose true feelings as in that moment, emotions are raw and the survival instinct kicks in. Any moment with him was like a rollercoaster ride, and the adrenaline couldn’t stop pumping. Ryuji was his drug, but he couldn’t indulge.
Now they were two bros, very close together and holding hands. Akira seriously could've had a heart attack.