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welcometohashihigh · 5 years

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Kunai and Daggers: Yosuke

Yosuke was practicing his moves in his room while Yu and Chie talked. He fenced in the air, spinning the knives in his palms smoothly. After a while he stopped and looked at Yu. Waves of anger and broke pride came off him.

“Yu, I really don’t think he meant it. You were both provoked, and Kurusu seems like the kind of person to snap like that, you know?” Chie was trying her best to calm him down. “He was right though, I don’t think we can solve this on our own.”

“I don’t care if we can solve this on our own, they’re clearly rash and don’t know how to work together! There’s no way a team like that could help-”

There was a knock at the door. Yosuke tucked his knives under his bed before going over and opening it. Standing there was Niijima, looking rather friendly. “Oh, Niijima, what are you doing here?”

“Sorry to barge in, but I wanted to apologize to Narukami on Akira’s behalf. Do you mind if I come in?” Her voice was so soft and sweet, but there was something incredibly dangerous in her eyes that told Yosuke not to mess with her. He moved to the side so she could step in. “Thank you.”

She stood near Yu and bowed. “I am sorry for his outburst. He has a… particular mindset that doesn’t let him keep quiet about injustice.” Akira seemed so interesting. Calm and friendly one moment, but if something goes wrong he snaps. And injustice? “Life hasn’t been all that kind to him recently. I won’t go into the details specifically, but for a while he was, at least in the public eye, dead.”

“So he really was telling the truth. You guys are the real Phantom Thieves.” Yu sighed deeply. “I feel bad about what I said, though he is rash and short tempered. I won’t let my pride get in the way of this case. If this case is to be solved, then we must all work together.”

“Thank you. I’ll let Akira know. He also wanted to tell you that he felt bad about scaring you.” Niijima pointed to her eyes. “The first time I really saw him mad was terrifying.”

Yosuke shuddered. “So his eyes really were red? That’s scary intense. How’d it scare you though, Niijima? You seem so… hardcore.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. The first time I really saw him mad, his eyes were yellow, like the Shadows. The only thing that stopped him from tearing the place apart was Ryuji.” She sighed. “Be careful not to let him get that mad. Sure he’s strong, but he can’t see when he’s like that.” Jeez, how terrifying was this guy? Yosuke had seen how short tempered he was, but if he could literally go into a blind rage... “Also if we’re going to be working together, please call me Makoto.”

Yu stood and bowed to her. “Thank you Makoto. And yeah, that glare he’s got is scary.”

Makoto chuckled a little. “I’m in the room down the hall, if you ever need anything.” With that, she left the room, shutting the door behind her as she left. Yosuke smiled at Yu.

“What was that about them not working together?”

“Oh shut up Yosuke.” Yu was smiling again. Good. “I guess we’ll need to train hard for this newest mission.”

“Way ahead of ya, partner.” Yosuke reached under the bed and cut his finger on one of his knives. “Gah!” He pulled his hand back out, inspecting the cut. It wasn’t too deep but it was long. “Damn that hurts…” He stood up straight and showed Chie, who rolled her eyes at him.

“Here, let me get you a bandage, you big baby.” Chie went through Yosuke’s things, trying to find something to wrap around his finger. Yosuke, without thinking, leaned on the window with his hurt hand.

“Ok I found… Yosuke what the hell?” Chie rushed over to the window. Yosuke turned to look at the window as well and jumped back. Right where his hand had been was a strange looking symbol. It clearly wasn’t there right before Yosuke had put his hand down, and as he stared at his bleeding hand a thought came to him.

“Do you think it was my blood that made that symbol show up?” He gaped at Yu and Chie, who looked just as dumbfounded. “Let’s tell everyone… including S.E.E.S. and the Phantom Thieves. Here, I’ll go tell Akira.” Yosuke almost forgot about his cut finger until Chie grabbed his arm. She wrapped his finger up with a sigh, then he ran off.

It took him a while, but Yosuke eventually found Akira’s door. His name tag was on it, and underneath was a piece of paper that read “Morgana.” He knocked on the door, and after a moment a meow came through. Yosuke kinda stood there awkwardly until an actual voice piped up. “Morgana said to come in.” Yosuke fumbled with the doorknob for a second before he managed to get it open. Akira was sitting on his bed reading, with the cat at his foot. He peered over the top, and Yosuke was a little startled at how soft his gray eyes were. “Oh, hi Hanamura. Sorry for my outburst earlier. What do you need?” He seemed a lot nicer now that he wasn’t angry.

“Oh, you can just call me Yosuke. Anyway, I accidentally cut my hand and when I leaned on the window this weird symbol appeared. We weren’t sure what to do, so we decided to tell everyone.” Yosuke shifted a bit. For such an easily excitable person, Akira’s room was rather simple. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but I’d bring a weapon of some sort with you.”

Akira put down his book and stood. “I wish I had at least my knife with me, but I didn’t bring it.” He frowned. Meow. “Morgana you WHAT?” Akira’s jaw dropped in shock as he dived for a cardboard box under his bed.

“Uhm, what did he say to you?”

After a bit of rummaging, Akira pulled out a yellow scarf wrapped around some objects. “He said he snuck my knife and gun into my things while I was packing.” A gun? Yosuke was ever so slightly concerned about the fact that Akira had a gun. He watched as the boy unwrapped the scarf, revealing a long, double edged dagger and a smooth handgun. Yosuke found himself leaning closer to try and see them. “Don’t worry, it’s just a model gun, and it only works in the MetaVerse.”

“Dude… That knife is so cool! I gotta show you mine!” Yosuke was practically beside himself with excitement. Akira laughed and held out his knife for Yosuke to hold. It was surprisingly light for such a large dagger, though it wasn’t as light as his. He fenced in the air a bit despite Morgana’s meow of concern. Whoever made this dagger knew what they were doing. Yosuke handed the dagger back, a wide smile on his face. “Just come on down to my room with the Thieves when you’re ready.” With that, Yosuke made his way back to his room.

When he got there, people from both S.E.E.S. and the Phantom Thieves were already there. The whole Investigation Team was there too, so it was rather cramped. Yosuke squeezed in, going straight for his daggers, since everyone else there had their weapons as well. Did everyone bring their weapons to the dorms?

After a long while all three groups had managed to either cram into the small room or peek in from outside. Twenty-three people didn’t seem like a lot, but all of them trying to fit into the same room was. Yosuke was smooshed up against the wall next to Sakamoto, who took up a rather large amount of space with the absolutely massive bat he had brought with him.

Yu, Arisato, and Akira were talking by the window, though from what it sounded like, they weren’t coming to any conclusions. Akira was perched on the rather thin windowsill, and Yosuke had to admit, he must have some crazy balance to stay as firm as he was. As the conversation continued, he leaned backwards a bit.

There was a rather high pitched shriek for such a suave person as Akira didn’t hit glass when he leaned back, instead starting to tumble through the window. Takamaki, who was close by, grabbed his hands and pulled him back. Of course he promptly jumped down from the window, panting a little at the scare. Everyone had fallen dead silent at the scream, as well as the sight of Akira half inside the window. After a long, quiet pause, Yosuke cleared his throat.

“So who wants to go first?”

#persona #persona 3 #persona 4 #persona 5 #yosuke hanamura #yu narukami #chie satonaka #akira kurusu #morgana #minato arisato #hashihigh

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wordsintheatmosphere · 7 years

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Room for Two

Series: Persona 5 Pairing: Akira/Mishima Rating: G Summary:

The hotel bed is only meant for one, but Akira finds ways to make it work.

Tags: Hawaii trip, established relationship, canon setting, fluff

When Mishima invites him to share a hotel room in Hawaii, he doesn’t think twice before agreeing.

It makes sense, after all; he can only room with a guy in his class, and aside from the fact that they are dating, Mishima is the only guy who will talk to him in the first place. Kawakami looks relieved at how quickly he finds a roommate, presumably because she knows just how difficult it is for anyone to want to stay in a room with a guy who has a criminal record. She eyes Mishima briefly before writing their names down on the form, with a little more hurry than is necessary. Perhaps she’s worried that Mishima will change his mind in the time it takes her to register their room, and the thought makes Akira smile. If only she knew.

That’s why it comes as a shock to him when he enters the room with Mishima and the reality finally sinks in. It’s ironic how he had spent a brief moment reflecting on their relationship and has only now realized that he will indeed be rooming alone with his boyfriend, together, in the dark. The casual way Mishima had asked him to share a room made it feel like it isn’t a big deal, but when the door closes behind him the room suddenly turns into a private space for two. He looks at Mishima standing in the small room and his pulse quickens.

It doesn’t take long for Mishima to catch on either. At first he mutters about the fatigue from the flight, where they should store their luggage, how small the room is. When he looks at the two beds, he stops in the middle of his sentence and a slow realization dawns on his face. So he, too, hadn’t quite realized the full reality of rooming alone with Akira until now. At least they are now on the same page, Akira thinks, and it’s a little reassuring to know that he isn’t the only one thinking about these things.

The sudden silence has become unbearably awkward, and Akira gathers his nerves and stands next to Mishima. “Yuuki,” he starts, slow and careful as not to startle, but then Mishima immediately jumps back at the sound of his name.

“Oh, uh,” Mishima stammers as he grabs at his pocket, pulling out his phone like he found a lifeline, “by the way, did you know the polls have started for the phansite?”

The topic change doesn’t surprise Akira in the slightest, and he lets Mishima tell him in anxiously quick words how the phansite is doing. Mishima seats himself on the other bed, his body rigid and eyes glued to his phone, the words pouring out of him with frazzled energy. Akira listens, chimes in with occasional questions, but when Mishima talks himself into a circle he finally interrupts.

“Yuuki, that’s great to hear. But right now we’re on a trip.”

Mishima falls silent then, but his grip doesn’t loosen on his phone. Finally he whispers, “I just forgot we will actually be alone. You know, like this.”

“Me too,” Akira confesses, and Mishima meets his eyes for the first time since they’ve entered the room. They grin shyly at each other, and then burst into quiet laughter. Akira is relieved to see Mishima’s body relax, even if only a little.

“Well, shall we sleep? The flight was pretty uncomfortable.” Akira climbs into his bed, and Mishima looks relieved at his suggestion. When Mishima is comfortably nestled in his bed, Akira turns off the lights. The room plunges into darkness, but a nervous energy lingers in the air. He stares into the dark, and the silence tells him Mishima is doing the same.

He isn’t the type to let an opportunity slip by him, and this is an opportunity he will not have again. He listens carefully, and when he doesn’t hear the telltale signs of sleep from the other side of the room, he takes his chances. “Yuuki,” he says tentatively, “is it okay if I join you?”

He hears a slight rustling in response, and when Mishima finally answers his voice is pitched with nervousness. “Uh, like in my bed?”

Akira smiles at the question. “Yes.”

“Oh.” A few minutes pass by, and just when Akira wonders if his boyfriend has forgotten to answer, “Sure, okay.”

His heart is beating hard in his chest now, and he climbs out of his sheets and slips into Mishima’s bed. He feels Mishima roll over to make space for him, a fruitless effort since the bed is only meant for one, but Akira slides in anyway, closes the space between them. The small bed forces their bodies to press together, him against Mishima’s back, and he is relieved when Mishima doesn’t flinch at the contact. “May I hold you?” he asks, and it’s a bold question when he has been allowed this much already. Mishima hesitates, his body tensing for a moment before he carefully turns around. Their eyes find each other, adjusted to the unfamiliar darkness of the room.

“Alright,” Mishima says, and he nervously smiles. “But, uh, don’t try anything weird, okay? If you try to tickle me, I’ll kick you straight out of this room.”

“No tickling. It’s a deal,” Akira says in his most solemn tone, and he curls his arms around Mishima’s waist and pulls him close. Mishima fits small and warm against him, and Akira presses his face into Mishima’s hair and breathes in the familiar scent of his shampoo. A few moments later he feels a pair of arms circle him too, shy but sure. They lie wrapped in each other’s warmth, listening to the sounds of their breaths and their own beating hearts. This is nice, Akira thinks, and then once more, aloud. “This is nice.”

Mishima stirs in his arms. “I move in my sleep,” Mishima mumbles, and honestly Akira does not mind even if he ends up being kicked off the bed as long as he can keep holding Mishima like this. It isn’t long until he falls asleep, basking in the comfortable warmth of his boyfriend pressed against him. When he wakes up the next morning to Mishima nuzzling his neck in his sleep, he can’t stop the smile spreading across his face. He is sore from sleeping in the same position all night, squashed on a tiny bed meant for one, but he can definitely get used to this.

Unfortunately, things do not work out the way he’d hoped. He is taken by surprise by Yusuke’s sudden appearance and ends up being swept along for the ride, and he loses sight of Mishima for the whole day. When he comes back to his room, he finds Mishima already on his phone and busy working on the phansite.

“Don’t tell me this is what you’ve been doing all day,” Akira says, but he already knows the answer.

“Well, I haven’t had the time to do any maintenance lately, and you guys have been really popular.” Mishima looks up after a while, his eyes tired but satisfied. “The posts have been blowing up, even now. There’s a lot of work to do.”

He launches into an update of the new polls he implemented, about the sudden rise in rankings, but Akira is only half listening. Akira knows of his boyfriend’s need to feel useful, the satisfaction he finds in helping the only way he can, but even so he can’t help but feel dismayed that Mishima has wasted his time in Hawaii trying to be useful to him.

“Yuuki,” he says, putting his hand on Mishima’s phone and firmly pressing it down. “You’re in Hawaii. Don’t worry about the phansite for now.”

Mishima opens his mouth in objection, but Akira braces an arm on the back of the chair and leans down. Their lips touch, Mishima’s mouth still slightly parted, and when Akira pulls back Mishima stares at him with stunned surprise.

“I would rather spend some time with you right now. What about you?” he drops his voice low, and just as expected, Mishima’s cheeks immediately flush a lovely shade of red.

“That’s…that’s not a fair question.” After a moment of hesitation, Mishima drops his phone on the table and reaches for him, timid but expectant, and he grasps Akira’s jacket and tugs him down. Just as they lean in for another kiss, a knock on their door interrupts them.

“What’s up?”

The force of Mishima’s shove takes Akira by surprise, and he stumbles backwards and catches himself on the bed before he falls. “Sorry! Sorry,” Mishima hisses, eyes wide with worry and already on his feet, “t-that surprised me.”

The knock continues, and Akira inwardly groans. The mood had been perfect before and Mishima had even been a little more daring than usual, but the interruption has snapped them out of it and now he’s a little irritable. “It’s Ryuji,” he mutters, “let’s not answer and maybe he’ll think we’re not here.”

“We can’t do that! Besides, it’s late. There isn’t anywhere else we’re supposed to be.” Mishima pats himself all over like as if the evidence of their moment of intimacy has somehow stained him, and he walks over to the door in awkward, guilty strides.

Ryuji comes in, none the wiser, and Akira tries desperately not to feel put off by Ryuji needing a place to stay. He has just resigned himself to having Ryuji around for the night when Ann comes knocking too. “I can’t get back in my room!” she says indignantly, and Akira pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes.

“There are only two beds, even if someone sleeps on the sofa,” Mishima says, and Ryuji frowns.

“One of us is gonna have to sleep on the floor.”

Akira snaps his head up at that. “No need for that,” he says, “I’ll share Mishima’s bed.”

They all turn their gazes on him, Mishima’s mouth falling open like a fish. “Huh?” Ann crosses her arms, shooting a dubious look at the beds. “These are small beds. You’re going to have trouble fitting there together.”

“No, we fit fine,” Akira says without a second thought, too quickly and too certain. Ryuji and Ann fall silent, their eyebrows rising high.

“H-he means, that’s what he thinks. Because I’m small!” Mishima blurts out, and fires a look at Akira. Don’t say anymore, I’m begging you, his eyes say, and Akira snaps his mouth shut before he makes matters worse.

“Oh, I see. Dude, you sure surprised me there.” Ryuji settles himself on the sofa, examining Mishima. “Well, now that you mention it, you are pretty small.” Mishima lets out a forced laugh and looks at the floor.

“I guess it comes in handy,” he mumbles, and Akira has to pinch his leg to stop himself from saying I like you just the way you are.

“I don’t know, I still think it’ll be uncomfortable.” Ann worriedly looks at Mishima. “Don’t force yourself, okay?”

“It’ll be fine, I think.” Mishima glances at Akira, his gaze shy but meaningful. “The bed is big enough. It won’t be comfortable, but we’ll fit. What do you think?”

Of course Akira agrees, this time making sure his voice doesn’t give him away. When the time for sleep comes, Mishima excuses himself to the bathroom. Akira listens to his friends chat about various things, feeling a little better. This is nice too, he thinks. When the topic turns to his taste in women, he hesitates. It feels wrong to keep something so important to him as a secret from the friends he trusts his life with, but he knows Mishima isn’t ready yet to let them know.

“I don’t have a type,” he finally settles on, praying that Mishima isn’t listening from the bathroom. “I think if I like someone, that’s the person I’m going to like, with or without a type.”

Their conversation is interrupted by Mishima’s groan, and it takes them a few minutes to figure out what’s wrong. “He shouldn’t have drunk the tap water,” Ryuji grumbles as they wait for medicine at the front desk, but Akira is far too concerned to listen. Afterwards when Ann and Ryuji have fallen asleep, he wraps an arm around Mishima’s waist.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, and Mishima laughs weakly.

“I got nervous,” he answers, and though he doesn’t turn around he laces his fingers with Akira’s. “Thanks for getting the medicine.”

They fall silent for a while, listening to the sounds of Ryuji’s snoring and Ann’s deep breathing. “So, no type, huh?” Mishima says suddenly, his voice so quiet that Akira has to strain to hear. “How very diplomatic of you.”

“I like you, you know.” Akira squeezes Mishima tighter, but hurriedly loosens his grip at the sound of Mishima’s pained grunt. “Sorry. But I mean it. You’re my type.”

“You have terrible taste.”

Akira smiles at that. “And what about you, Yuuki? What about your type?”

“I have better taste than you. Far better.” Mishima pauses, and then continues. “It’s you, you know?”

Gods, it’s so stupid of him to fall for that, but the pounding in his chest almost hurts. He presses a quiet kiss on the curve of Mishima’s shoulder. “Let’s spend time together tomorrow,” he says, “just the two of us.” Mishima squeezes his fingers in reply.

But things aren’t going to work out on the last day either, Akira quickly discovers.

Ryuji gets a hold of them before they can slip out together, and in his determination to make memories in Hawaii, Mishima gets dragged off with him. Unwilling to lose even a bit of time with Mishima, Akira grudgingly agrees to tag along with Ryuji’s plan to pick up girls. At first the two of them are satisfied with watching Ryuji from a safe distance, but it isn’t long before Ryuji urges them to try. There is a strange, tight knot in Akira’s stomach as he watches Mishima attempt to talk to the scantily-clad girls, a strange tightness that doesn’t leave him for the whole day afterwards. When it’s his turn to try, he can feel Mishima’s gaze on his back as he talks to the women. Damn it, this isn’t what he wants at all, and his disinterest shows in his lackluster conversation.

“Try harder next time,” the women tell him before they leave, put off by his obvious half-hearted attempt, and Ryuji pats him on the back reassuringly.

“It’s okay, man. Let’s try again.”

I’d much rather not actually, Akira thinks, and glances at Mishima. His boyfriend seems determined to stare at the ground with furrowed brows, and Akira swallows the tightness in his throat.

Their abject failure comes as a relief, even if he does feel a little bad for Ryuji. His biggest concern is Mishima, who has grown increasingly sullen and silent as the day went on. The tightness he feels in his stomach gives him an idea of how Mishima is feeling too, and he can’t help but feel guilty as they head back to their room together.

When they are alone, there is an awkward silence that hangs heavy around them. “Yuuki,” Akira starts, “you know I didn’t—”

“I know. Don’t worry about it,” Mishima interrupts, not meeting Akira’s eyes. “Anyway, we need to wake up early tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep.”

He climbs into his bed and pulls the blankets above his head, and somehow Akira gets the feeling that Mishima wants to be left alone for tonight. For the first time since the trip started, Akira gets into his own bed for good and switches off the lights.

The tightness in his stomach doesn’t ease, and when he shuts his eyes all he can think about is Mishima talking to those women on the beach, Mishima’s determined gaze on the floor, Mishima’s eyes on his back, Mishima’s quiet voice. “I really just wanted to be alone with you,” he whispers out loud, more to himself than anything.

There is no response, and Akira releases a quiet sigh. A long while passes, and he is about to drift to sleep when he suddenly feels his blanket lifting. He jerks awake in a hurry, disoriented and alarmed, but when Mishima slides in next to him his heart leaps.

“Move over,” Mishima mumbles, and he obeys. A small, warm and familiar body presses against him, and Akira doesn’t dare speak in case he changes Mishima’s mind. They lie together in tense silence, and then Mishima finally speaks. “I really wanted to be alone with you too.”

Akira smiles, and he gains the courage to wrap his arms around the smaller boy without the fear of chasing him off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to go along with the plan, but Ryuji was so…”

“Desperate?” Mishima laughs quietly, and Akira’s heart squeezes at the sound. “I know. I felt bad for him too. But man, it wasn’t easy watching you pick up girls.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. You didn’t seem into it anyway. Which is good, you know, because I was right there watching.”

“I’m not interested in them.” Akira traces a kiss on Mishima’s forehead, warm and affectionate. “I’m interested in you.”

“I know. I’m your type, right?” Mishima looks up and gives him a small, shy smile. “You have terrible taste.”

Akira smiles slow, and he teases a lock of Mishima’s hair in between his fingers. “Bold, aren’t you,” he says, his tone low and seductive now, “for a person who is exactly my type, sliding into my bed and into my arms at this hour of the night.”

Mishima’s eyes widen at the change in his voice, but he doesn’t make a move to leave. Akira traces his thumb over the bottom of Mishima’s lip, their eyes locked together, and Mishima swallows thickly. “Uh,” he manages to say, “what about sleep?”

Akira hooks a finger under Mishima’s chin, lifts his face, and kisses him deep. Mishima shivers at his touch, and his fingers grip Akira’s pajama shirt. When their lips part, the dazed look on Mishima’s face is almost unfair. There is no way he will be able to sleep tonight. “I was jealous too, you know,” Akira murmurs against Mishima’s mouth. “It wasn’t easy for me to watch you pick up girls either.”

“Oh,” Mishima answers dumbly, still lost in the sensation of their kiss, “uhm, sorry about that.” It’s a half-hearted apology because his mind is elsewhere, but Akira decides to accept it anyway. He pulls Mishima back against him, fits their bodies together, and closes his eyes. Mishima’s warmth softens the tension in his body, soothes the tightness in his stomach, and yet it leaves an ache in his heart.

“I like you.” He waits, and when he doesn’t hear a reply he continues. “Call it terrible taste, but I know the way you make me feel.”

A few moments later, he feels a kiss press against his jaw. His eyes fly open at the unexpected kiss, but Mishima has already buried his face into his chest. “Thanks,” Mishima says. When he speaks again, his voice sounds weak, vulnerable, and yet certain. “I like you too.”

Akira’s breath catches in his throat. He knows, of course, that Mishima likes him, but it’s the first time he’s ever heard his boyfriend say it aloud. The ache in his heart grows stronger, and it hurts a little but it feels somewhat warm. Damn it, there is definitely no way he will be able to sleep tonight.

Things didn’t work out quite the way he’d wanted them to, he thinks as he holds Mishima close, but this is indeed a trip he will never forget.

#persona 5 #shuyuu #yuuki mishima #mishima yuuki #akira kurusu #room for two #fic #this took a long time in the making #because i had the idea but had no idea how to get around to writing it #akira fights me tooth and nail every time i attempted his pov #but this time it worked out nicely!#i think #sorry if this has already been written before #i haven't had the chance to check on existing fics lately #:')#if this already exists forgive me and accept another?

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