@trickster-justice
Goro Akechi was a peculiar individual, of that he was certain. There was no doubt the potential, and straight out deliberately hidden talents the other held that always had Akira on his toes around him. Usually in more ways than one.
If it wasn’t competitive darts or pool the two would find themselves at the end of philosophical debates that lasted way past the Jazz clubs curfew, but he’s sure the Detective Prince has the strings pulled so it was allowed without interruption.
He couldn’t really blame him for it either. He had the charm of the role he was playing like it was something he was born with, and Akira wouldn’t doubt Akechi had come out into the world looking how he was now like many, many of his fangirls say online.
Frequently.
It was all these things and more that made it practically impossible to turn him down on the occasions he did want to hang out, even if the weather was abysmal and he’d forgotten to bring an umbrella before the heavens opened upon him after he left the train station.
Figures, with his luck. He knows Akechi will have some quip about it, and Akira rolls up to the outside of the Penguin Sniper looking like he’d recently been thrown through a washing machine and someone forgot to put him through the drier afterwards.
“Sorry i’m late, Akechi-kun.”