They’re holding hands.

Him, Akutagawa— they’re holding hands.

Though they really aren’t, but Atsushi’s going to consider this— Akutagawa’s hand wrapped around his wrist— as hand holding. It fuels his delusional mind, naturally, why should he say otherwise?

It’s as close as they’ll get, and considering that Akutagawa hadn’t broken his wrist in realization of it Atsushi believes this as a sort of… next step in their relationship? He shakes his head. The very fact that Akutagawa hadn’t even used Rashomon on him at all today was an indication of their relationship improving.

He shouldn’t get greedy.

Even so, he wants to actually hold Akutagawa’s hand, desperately at that. He wants to know if Akutagawa would accept him, with reluctance or immediately.

Or if Akutagawa would refuse him and leave him completely.

Atsushi’s mind couldn’t send the signals down to his moving fingers fast enough to stop them, but here he is. His hand slips out of Akutagawa’s wrisr and now his fingers are brushing Akutagawa’s palms— surprisingly warm, he’d imagine the mafioso to be cold in his hands— before clasping around the limb.

His heterochromatic eyes look at his hand around Akutagawa’s, then he’s looking up to the back of his head. So unaware of his surroundings and what’s going on, he hadn’t even noticed that Akutagawa was right outside the apartment door and finally—

Akutagawa’s hand wraps around Atsushi’s.