#any and all bits of the persona peanut gallery in akira's head is less a separate entities thing

[mypunkpansexualtwin]

WIP Wednesday

I am, again, untagged but undeterred! Who wants more Wingman? No? Too bad, that’s what you’re getting!

I... haven’t slept yet. Consider yourself tagged if you want to do this and please please tag me in your WIPs, I really love seeing what my friends, mutuals, and followers are all working on. Part of this is under a cut, mostly for the sanity of Future Me.

About halfway down the block, they realized at about the same time that they had nothing to talk about.

“So…”

“So...”

So. Akira didn’t remember how to have a normal damn conversation. He wasn’t going to blame that on the fact that the only people who’d spoken to him on a regular basis in the past five months were all eccentric to say the least, but it definitely hadn’t helped. One of the top five current sanest people in his life was the drag queen proprietor of a bar in the red light district, for crying out loud. Not to mention he’d always been more of a listener to begin with because it was less stressful. So long as the person talking wasn’t a harried reporter who could only ever be found at the aforementioned drag bar. Or his homeroom teacher being blackmailed into dubious side work by a late student’s family. Or an ex member of the goddamn yakuza. Being “robbed of one’s place to belong” apparently also did a number on one’s sanity.

Akira was pulled from his thoughts by Ono awkwardly clearing his throat.

“I, uh, heard that one of the Japanese schools staying here is Shujin. That you?” Jason hazarded. 

“Yup.”

“Phantom Thieves Shujin?”

“That’s the only one I’m aware of.” Akira responded blandly. Not the best topic for small talk considering the apparent state of his brain-to-mouth filter, but better than walking along and twiddling their thumbs until one of them decided to leave. Probably.

Jason cracked a smile and jokingly asked, “Do you know them?” Even half-expecting it, the question still caught him a little off guard. Although not as much as it would have a few months prior, considering he’d gotten it just as jokingly from several of Leblanc’s regulars since May. Meaning he’d had time to practice his answer.

“Oh yeah,” Akira responded, pouring every ounce of sarcasm he had into a completely truthful statement, “I found them on accident and they made me their leader.” Then he rolled his eyes for good measure. Who needed to be a good liar when you could just tell the truth in a way nobody would believe?

“Pff, why would they do that?” Jason snorted, indulging the “joke.” Akira shrugged in response.

“No idea,” he answered, again, completely honestly. “My unparalleled charisma? My superior adaptability?” He paused for his date to stop laughing before he continued, “My cool glasses?” That earned him a scoff.

“Clark Kent you ain’t, buddy.” Ono retorted dryly, but the effect was ruined by the smile trying to break out across his face. Topic successfully deflected.

“Definitely no Superman, either.” Akira stretched and laughed softly.“Too gangly.” He was finally starting to actually relax a little when an arm snaked around his waist and tugged him close, effectively shooting his progress in the face.

“I dunno if I’d say gangly. Lean, maybe?” Ono’s voice was close to his ear again and his hand was ridiculously warm where it rested on his hip. “Whatever you wanna call it, it definitely suits you.” 

“Uh. Th-thanks.” A few moments passed, allowing Akira to attempt to scrape together something resembling a brain cell.

“Y’know, if you’re here to make memories, maybe we should get on that.”

Attempt failed, try again later. Something about the guy’s voice, especially with the way it ghosted across an apparently very sensitive spot just behind his ear, seemed to have a vendetta against Akira trying to think. Purely on impulse, with no input from his higher functions that had all abandoned him at that point, Akira turned his head and hummed his assent against the corner of Ono’s jaw. He felt a shiver run through the taller boy and a decidedly Arsene-shaped sense of smug satisfaction in the back of his mind. Akira wasn’t sure if he should offer his inner self thanks or wonder where the hell this kind of helpful nudge was earlier that afternoon with Ryuji. Or at literally any point with Ryuji. Maybe it was for the better, he really didn’t have the nerve to follow up on a move like that. And if he couldn’t with the guy who’d arranged the damn date, there was no way he’d have been able to after probably ambushing his unsuspecting best friend. There was no point in dwelling on that, though. Instead, he met the hooded gaze Jason levelled at him with a smirk meant to cover his rising nerves. 

Anyone who knew Joker, Infamous Leader of the Phantom Thieves would have recognized that particular smirk as the prelude to him being a little shit, but Ono did not. He had no idea what to expect when Akira replied lowly, “I think you might be onto something there.” The blond leaned in a little, eyes fluttering shut as Akira reached up to settle one hand on the back of Jason’s neck--

--and shattered the moment with a quiet click from his phone’s camera. Ono blinked a few times, looking up to where Akira was holding his phone up for the selfie he’d just snapped, and back to Akira’s face. Double take. Triple take. And then he fixed him with the most unimpressed face Akira had ever seen in his life, which had to be some kind of world record.

“Uhhh, say ‘cheese?’” He cracked a smile and tried hard not to laugh as that look somehow turned even more unimpressed.

“Ha freaking ha.” Ono pouted up at the camera. “Seriously. I’m gonna crack a rib laughin’ here. You’re hilarious.”

“Are you saying you don’t want a picture of yourself when you look this good?” Akira replied innocently and lowered his arm a little. Maybe it was unfair to push the buttons of a guy so obviously and aggressively walking the fine line between confident and vain, but the way his pout deepened before twisting into a smile was too cute.

“Fine, twist my arm why don’t you?” Jason rolled his eyes good-naturedly and settled against Akira before looking up into the camera. Halfway through the burst of pictures Akira took, Jason exacted his revenge and pressed a kiss to that sensitive spot he’d ghosted his breath over a moment ago. Thankfully the camera didn’t pick up the deeply embarrassing yelp that particular move elicited from Akira, but there was no hiding the way the phone suddenly jerked in his hand halfway through the dozen or so pictures, or the way his face had gone completely scarlet in all of them from that point onward. It was his turn to pout as he swiped through his camera roll and deleted the blurriest ones. “Ooh, definitely send me that one. And those two.” Ono instructed with his chin hooked over Akira’s shoulder. Naturally the guy wanted the pictures with the worst of Akira’s tomato face, but at least the rest he requested were nice. Maybe Akira wouldn’t be spending the rest of the night too mortified.

The incoming text notification that dropped from the top of his screen said otherwise. Goddammit.

“Oh man, the timing on that’s almost spooky. Hell of a coincidence.” Jason laughed as the preview of Futaba’s ‘who the heck is that guy???’ disappeared into the notifications bar. Akira groaned.

“Not a coincidence.”