Fool Me Once

Souji incenses Adachi as much as he draws Adachi too him - and yes, he’ll admit that much, the draw. Whenever Souji approached him with intent, to further their bond, there had been a pressure at the back of his head, a gentle nudge forward.

It was after October that he recognized the feeling, in retrospect, as Magatsu-Izanagi reaching for Souji, reaching for something in him. He wonders, bitterly, if it’s deliberate, or if it’s a happy coincidence and Souji feels the same pull. He doesn’t want to ask.

Magatsu-Izanagi has his strongest hold when Adachi is feeling a strong surge of negative emotion. Adachi grits his teeth, tells himself not to react. Souji gets another beer, and that alone is calling his bluff.

You could do it right now. He’s thought about it. If not for what that would do to Dojima and Nanako, Adachi might have done it too, there at the beginning before anyone got attached.

Now, he had the distinct feeling that if he tried to put Souji in, Adachi would fall through the screen right after him. Then, of course, there is the option of killing Souji with his bare hands, with the gun, whatever. Adachi’s never been able to stomach the act itself. What a lousy killer he is, doesn’t even enjoy doing it.

The empty beer can rolls across the table with a tinny sound where Adachi drops it. He gets to his feet, makes a beeline for the fridge. “I’d tell you to fuck off, but honestly, I don’t know why I haven’t done it yet either.” That’s supposed to be more venomous than it is. It’s sharp and unpleasant, sure, but there’s an uncertainly that shines through in his voice anyway.

He takes another beer from the fridge, too cold in his hands. The tab pops too loudly, and he takes a few long drinks without looking at Souji. There’s a silence, and when he does look, it’s with a twisted, ugly expression. Souji looks tired, but Adachi feels wired, on edge, like something in him might snap at any moment.

“You know we can’t do this, right?“

It should be reassuring, that Adachi doesn’t quite know why they’re still moving in the same, ever shrinking circles. But it isn’t. If Adachi had a reason, something he could voice to explain why he’s keeping him around, even if it was petty or so he could simply use Souji as a patsy later, that would be better. It would be something. 

But apparently that’s not an option for them. 

Souji forces his face to stay carefully blank when Adachi addresses it, the tension pulling tight between them. For a moment, he almost wants to laugh. And here he thought that was another one of those things they would never look at directly. If they don’t talk about it, it’s not real, it can be ignored, brushed past. Another in a long list of discomforts they both have to live with. 

Meeting Adachi’s eyes, unflinching, he sets down the beer. It’s mostly gone anyway, the buzz not as pleasant as he would have hoped, nor as warm. He’s half sure the fog’s crept under his skin, made everything colder, harder to feel. Maybe it’s better that way. 

He takes a step closer, stretching one arm over Adachi’s shoulder, palm flattening against the fridge, shifting to half block his way. The alcohol hasn’t made him unsteady yet, but Adachi could push past him with ease if he wanted to. Still... there’s something satisfying about being able to loom over him, even if only for a few moments. With how big Adachi talks, he doesn’t seem to understand just how small he is. 

“Do what, Adachi-san?” Souji tips his head to one side, letting his expression take on a curious lilt. “Burn more evidence? Push another poor girl into a tv? I think we’re more than capable of doing whatever we want, partner.”

You don’t scare me, Adachi-san. Well, maybe he should. Adachi’s lip curls. But that isn’t exactly what this is about, he’s not trying to scare Souji, just… just play big bad wolf a little, show him the dangers of this world they live in, or something. The specifics are hazy, they don’t matter. He’s doing this because he’s concerned, and see, even Souji said it. (He is concerned, but it isn’t the whole reason. Adachi hides behind it.)

“Uh huh. Wouldn’t really call that handling yourself, more like you got lucky.” Adachi is all bark and no bite. He knows he’d never do it, no matter the intrusive thoughts that want him to push Souji down and keep him down - and least because he, well, doesn’t really like being on that side of things.

So he cares about Souji’s well-being in the basest sense, and Adachi’s a bit of a masochist himself. So what? He can still play it up is the point. Souji should never know he was bluffing, because Adachi is not going to let him get that far.

They can’t be doing this, the sexual tension thing, the wanting. They shouldn’t even be having this conversation right now.

“I don’t know, kid, it didn’t really seem like you wanted that. What would have happened if I didn’t kick you out, huh?” Nothing, is the answer. Adachi would have laughed some more and made Souji sleep on the floor. “I bet you’re thinking you could overpower me, right? I’m smaller than you, but police training goes a long way, I’m s’posed to be able to take down guys twice my size. Or what if I had my service weapon on me? Or…”

And his eyes move pointedly to the empty can in Souji’s hands. “Or if you’ve been drinking.” The rest of what he’s said has been dead serious but there’s an off-color, sing-song lilt to that, like a particularly unpleasant joke. “You should know better by now, Souji-kun. I don’t think you’re really learning from your mistakes at all.”

Because obviously it’s Souji’s fault if something were to happen. There are no flaws in that logic. If Adachi feels disgusted with himself for keeping up that act, he doesn’t show it, pushes it back. (He knows, better than most, how bullshit that is. He just doesn’t really want to examine that ever again.)

“I’m just saying, you should really be more careful. For a guy saying it’s never gonna happen again you’re really leaving yourself vulnerable. Or are you just that stupidly confident I wouldn’t hurt you?”

Eyes on Adachi’s, Souji sets the empty can down, never once looking away, he grabs another out of the fridge and opens it. He doesn’t even want this one, but it’s the point of the matter. It isn’t a smart choice, he’s well aware of that. He seems to have trouble making intelligent decisions around Adachi. But apparently that’s something they have in common. 

“If you wanted me hurt, I would be,” he says simply, leaning back against the counter. The alcohol’s creeping into his system now, a faint buzz, but at this rate... well, maybe Adachi will have a chance to put his money where his mouth is. “You could have gotten rid of me a dozen times over, Adachi-san, we both know that. I know what you’re capable of.”

He knows better than most in that regard. It isn’t that he can’t. Honestly, sometimes Souji isn’t quite sure why he hasn’t. That would simplify things for both of them in a manner of speaking. 

Taking a long drink, he lets that hang in the air for a moment. No doubt Adachi has a biting rebuttal, something about his uncle or keeping him around until he’s no longer useful. There’s no excuse or reason he could give that Souji would believe. It’s all just hot air. With a slight sigh, he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, sloshing the rest of the beer around in the can, strangely loud in the quiet of the house. 

“If you wanted to, you could do it right now.” His eyes slide to the tv in the corner of the living room, then back to Adachi, tone calm, almost bored, head tipped back, eyes half lidded. “It would be easy. You could say I went to stay at a friend’s house. No one would know I was missing until it’s too late. But you won’t. I don’t know why, but you won’t.”

He’s saying too much, tongue looser than it should be. That’s easily blamed on the beer, but the words have been burning in his mind for weeks. 

“Wait, you thought I was uncomfortable?” And he was, but not in a way that means Souji should be apologizing. Adachi cocks his head, peering at Souji moving in the darkness. “You should have seen your face when I grabbed you. Sorry, can’t drop it, we’re talking about this right now.”

He wants to needle and tease and be an asshole about this, but suddenly it’s not funny anymore. Souji brushes past him and Adachi’s eyes follow him to the kitchen. The fridge light casts long yellow shadows over the floor, and he watches Souji silhouetted in the dim glow, pulling out a beer. The fridge door shuts, the light goes out, the can opens with a hiss.

Does he do this often? Does Dojima know, or is it just Adachi continuing to nick his beers? Part of him, the straitlaced cop from before, wants to tell Souji off for it. He’s busted his share of underage drinkers, but turns a blind eye tonight. It seems stupid to split hairs, he’s already breaking the law, Adachi made sure of that.

“You realize that’s not how it works, right?” He pointedly brushes off the not so subtle implication that he should go to bed right now, because this is… more pressing. He isn’t concerned, exactly, but now that it’s out in the open this whole thing is rubbing him the wrong way. Adachi sounds too serious when he continues, without the sarcasm and off color humor he’s so used to hiding behind.

“Sheesh, I guess I was wrong when I figured a good scare might set you straight. You’re sixteen.” But those two words shake Adachi, too, and he pauses in that dark living room watching a boy who had to grow up so fast over the last year. “If you’re gonna feel like shit about it, it should be because I put my hands on you. Especially if I was kinda into the whole dress up thing. This is what gets kids your age into trouble y’know, I’ve had a couple cases with creeps going after high schoolers.”

There’s a soft sigh. Of course it can’t be let go, just forgotten. Nothing between them can stay buried, not even the things that should. Is that what being partners means to Adachi? Digging up old wounds and dragging them out into the light again. It had been a stupid idea, a last, desperate jab to get any kind of response. And he’d certainly gotten one. That should’ve been enough. 

He turns around slowly, taking his time in meeting Adachi’s eyes. It’s strange, if Souji didn’t know better, he might call that concern lacing Adachi’s tone, a hint of genuine worry. A few months ago, he would’ve been thrilled to get even that much, now though, it’s hollow, empty and the only thing it does is make him feel more exhausted than he already is. So he just shrugs. “You don’t scare me, Adachi-san.” 

Souji doesn’t like beer, but he finishes the can rather quickly. It doesn’t burn nearly strong enough. So he grabs another. His uncle won’t notice unless he drinks them all. “Thank you for being concerned, I appreciate it,” he says, half trying to sound like he means it, “but I think I can handle myself when it comes to dealing with creeps.”

There’s no hint of accusation there. But maybe there should be. If only he was in the mood for a fight. 

And there’s an unhelpful train of thoughts that keeps running around his mind, that Adachi wasn’t entirely repulsed by the incident. It’s the worst thing he could have said, really. Souji’s been working to shut down the feelings that led to that particular bit of brilliance. At least he’s a little too tired to fully let them resurface. 

“I’ve gotten into worse trouble than that before,” he says, shrugging again. “Nothing happened and it won’t happen again. I know better now.” Except that he doesn’t. Because he can already feel the nudge, the push of Pale Rider in the back of his mind, simply wondering what might happen if he tried again. He’s gotten better at ignoring the nudges lately, it helps that there’s fewer now, most of the feelings and thoughts growing quiet.

“…..Don’t even go there, kid.“ And now he can’t stop picturing it–which Adachi really hopes doesn’t show on his face.

“What’s wrong, Souji?”

“Um… you better not mean that literally, I thought you were gonna take a break and have an inappropriate crush on someone else for the night?”

“Nope.”

😍 - otp

😍 - otp

AdaSou 😍 - otp 

Oh man, I’m a sucker for AdaSou. It’s one of those ships where I’m very selective about how I ship/write it, cause it’s really messed up, and kinda has to be handled carefully, but it’s a lot of fun to explore. 

SouYo 😍 - otp 

@truthfulfool liked for a drunk starter

He doesn’t know why he puts it on. Maybe it’s the heft of the fabric, the weight of the pleats in his hands, or maybe Adachi’s always wanted to wear Souji’s skin for a few moments, crawl inside him and feel what it’s like to be the golden boy, beloved and relied on.

Adachi is drunk. That’s why he puts it on, and yes he holds the regular uniform in his hands long enough to consider it, but there’s something darkly funny about reaching for the long skirt and girls’ jacket instead. That’s mine, he thinks, and it makes sense through the haze of fog and liquor. It’s a sick sense of ownership, but at least he knows how fucked up this looks. 

Souji is supposed to be out for the night, mentioned staying over at a friend’s house. The skirt feels heavy on his hips, just barely staying up, and the jacket is too large for his shoulders. Adachi sits on Souji’s coug with the window cracked open and lights up a cigarette stolen from Dojima. He’s doing a pretty poor job of sobering up, if this is still happening. He taps ash out the window and when the door clicks open, Adachi is mostly left wanting for another drink.

It’s late. Souji had meant to stay the night, Kanji’s place has always been rather comforting, the textile shop homey and almost familiar. But the bad weather had sent Kanji’s mother to bed with a bad cough and it seemed rude to take up his time, so he’d just stayed long enough to help with some cold remedies before heading back home. The extra pair of shoes at the door catches his eye and he sighs. Adachi’s probably already asleep on the couch. At the moment, he’s too tired for his new partner, so he keeps his steps almost silent as he makes his way upstairs. 

He takes a half step into his room and goes still. It takes a few looks at Adachi for him to actually process what he’s looking at. Because this shouldn’t be happening and he’s half sure that it isn’t until he blinks several times. But Adachi doesn’t vanish from the couch or suddenly reappear wearing his own clothes. Why didn’t he burnt hat outfit? Or at least take it back to school? 

“Do whatever you want,” he says dismissively, with another uneasy shrug. “It isn’t coming out of my paycheck.” This is all starting to feel domestic in a way that makes Adachi’s stomach churn unpleasantly. There’s a reason he likes living alone. Souji staying over this much isn’t really helping things.

Still, he shuffles into the kitchen proper and goes for the kitchen knives. Reflexively, he examines the blade. It’s dull from overuse, which is funny, because Adachi doesn’t remember using them much at all. That’s what he gets for buying the cheap plastic handled ones and making friends with the only teenager in Inaba who actually enjoys cooking for other people.

“You’re gonna make me cut the onions, huh?” he asks, reserved to his fate, but when he glances back at him there’s steam rising from the sink. This keeps happening. Too quickly to be casual, Adachi is right there next to him, reaching over to turn the tap to cold.

Are you trying to hurt yourself? is what his brain supplies indignantly, but “geez, give me some room” is what comes out of his mouth instead, and he reaches out to grab one of Souji’s wrists with his free hand. His thumb moves over the back of Souji’s hand, skin red from the heat of the tap water. Adachi elbows him out of the way, and runs the dull knife under the tap, cleaning it before use.

“Someone at the station mentioned it when we took Namatame in.” This is a comfortable line of discussion. “Before that, uh… maybe the last time it rained, out in the shopping district? I’m always the one who gets stuck beating the pavement, especially in bad weather.”

Funny how he’s making more progress on the case when discussing it with the serial killer he was trying to catch. That part doesn’t even seem weird anymore. He lets go of Souji’s hand, pulls out a cutting board, peels the onion in silence.

“Okay,“ he says finally. “But I’m sending you home after.” The knife is dull, but Adachi’s cuts are precise. His eyes sting and water, but he perseveres. “If something shows up I’m going in to investigate.”

The touch to his wrist makes Souji blink, slowly coming back to himself, the feeling of heat and pain finally pushing through. Oh. How long had that been happening? He doesn’t remember. It doesn’t feel like there’s any serious damage done, but the heat lingers, the burn bringing him back to the moment, contrasted with the cool, lingering touch of Adachi’s fingers. A soft smile slides onto Souji’s lips. 

Adachi cares. He doesn’t say it, and Souji doesn’t think he ever will, but he doesn’t have to. It’s better that way. In the strangest way, it’s nice--a far cry from his friends at school who never stop telling him how much they care. Voices on deaf ears. They only care for the face he lets them see. But Adachi... he knows the truth and he hasn’t run. 

A ghost of the touch stays after Adachi lets him go an gets to work. Smile growing, he moves in closer, leaning against Adachi’s back and resting his chin on his shoulder. “But I already told Dojima-san that I’d be staying at a friend’s house tonight. I even got things for breakfast, and I know you won’t use them if I just leave them here. Such a waste.”

His arm wraps loosely around Adachi’s middle, careful not to get in his way. They move around each other easier now. The push and pull is natural, simple as breathing. “We should investigate together, don’t you think, Ada-chan? We are partners after all. It could be dangerous going in alone now, who knows what’s been happening on the other side?”

“Huh. And here I was thinking you’d given up trying to get me in bed.” His tone is too innocent for the words it carries. Adachi speaks quietly at least, more than aware of the shit it would cause for both of them if any part of this were overheard–and this is the good part, the part that doesn’t include ashes on the interrogation room floor. The lighter is a comfortable reminder in Adachi’s pocket, for more reasons than one.

If Dojima heard… The stab of guilt is back as Adachi contemplates it. It’s complicated, it’s fucked up. Maybe it’s what he’d deserve though, getting hauled off for corrupting a minor. It’d solve the problem of his stupid crush on a coworker and this thing that’s been hanging between Souji and he for months.

So Adachi keeps his voice down, but pokes at the situation because he has to. Your uncle’s upstairs. Go ahead, go tell him if you’re so fucked up about this you can’t even sit next to me. So much for being partners. Adachi isn’t being fair. It’s not like he’s wanted to spend any more time around Souji than necessary, either.

“I know, I know, you don’t mean like that but isn’t it kind of a shame? You did so well last time, too. Almost got me, Souji-kun.” Souji with the clip in braids and girls’ uniform top, skirt rucked up around Adachi’s legs where he’d pulled Souji onto his lap. His hip bones had felt sharp under Adachi’s palms. And sure, Adachi hadn’t meant anything by it really, he was just proving a point, if Souji was going to do stupid shit like showing up at his door dressed like that to get his attention, clearly he needed to be taught a lesson. But that doesn’t mean Adachi hadn’t thought about it.

“It was cute,” he says, and surprises himself with the sincerity of it. Adachi sits up, sighing, and sets his empty beer can on the table with its companions. “Don’t want anything for the headache, but sure, why not, I’ll crash in your room.”

Souji’s spine stiffens. So much for them just letting that go. He had thought there was something like a silent agreement to never bring up that particular incident. It was a mistake. With everything else, he had nearly put it out of his mind, he wants to. He doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to remember. So stupid. His fingers curl tight where he grips at his legs. The room suddenly feels stifling, far too warm as a bright red flush creeps up his neck. 

“Can we just drop that?” His voice is a little too stiff, just shy of pained. “I shouldn’t have... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Adachi-san. It won’t happen again.”

Except that it could. He still has the outfit, tucked away in the back of his room. Burning it would have been smart, but... well, he hasn’t made any choice he would call smart in some time. But that isn’t a mistake he’s about to repeat, not now anyway. Not tonight. 

“There’s extra blankets in the hall closet if you want them, it’s supposed to get cold tonight,” he says, pushing himself up from the couch. There’s enough empty beers on the table, Dojima won’t notice a few more. It’s not as though he’s never snuck one or two before, though it’s been happening more lately, and if Adachi’s going to insist on bringing up... certain things, he needs it.

He debates going the long way around the table for a moment before just moving past Adachi, their shoulders barely brushing as he edges around him. They’re partners now, it shouldn’t be such a strange thing. The contact doesn’t make him want to recoil at least. That’s something.