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It happened suddenly, without his control. Akechi supposed he should have seen it coming a long time ago. It was a natural reaction for one to explode, after all, when frustration was allowed to nestle, to multiply itself inside a person. For over a month he had had to watch as the "so-called" group of “Phantom Thieves”, working under the pseudonym of Nemesis, had whittled their way into the searchlight of the Japanese society. Heroes to some, terrorists to others, this group of vigilantes had apparently put it into their heads that they would reform society – they dared to say that they could fix it by “Stealing the desires of the wicked”. Akechi scoffed at the mere notion. Reality was more complex than that. All they had really managed to do with their childish ideas was force their victims to confess their crimes by breaking the law themselves. Driven by somewhat “just” motives the Phantom Thieves were merely a bunch of criminals to be judged under the same law as everyone else. Such was the justice that Akechi Goro followed.

But they hadn’t been judged so far. Instead the public was increasingly praising their actions, going so far as requesting their help on a fan-site, lovingly adorned with the name of “the Phan-site” and seemingly run by an obsessive fan, who weeded through negative comments shortly after their posting. Oh, Akechi had studied it. Thoroughly. It was after all one of the only live connections to the Phantom Thieves it seemed, with multiple prior requesters on the site claiming to have been saved by them. But for all Akechi knew, they could all be lying to bolster the thieves’ reputation. He wouldn’t put it beneath these fans.

Fans.

Yes, it was the fans that fanned his frustration the most, like moths flittering around an electric light. One fan in particular had managed to draw all his attention to him. Now Akechi found himself dragging said fan through the crowded metro station of Shibuya to the nearest bathroom. The guy only stumbled after him passively, staring at him with those incredulous eyes. Just like he had at the TV station, when they met.

It happened after Madarame’s exposure as a fraud. The public was still uncertain about these Phantom Thieves and their intentions, but yearning for more knowledge. As such Akechi was requested to state his opinion on a certain talk show. It was nothing big, he had thought, the show was hardly the place for what you could call “hard-hitting material”. Therefore, they had requested the high school detective, popularly known as the “new Detective Prince”, but Akechi had turned it around. If they intentioned it to be of little consequence, Akechi would turn it into just the opposite of that- publicly denouncing the Phantom Thieves and all their actions, calling for their judgement. And just when he had thrown down the gauntlet, it was picked up (rather gingerly) by a young student from Shujin Academy – the place, where the it seemingly all had begun with the very first calling card.

This certain young man was in no way, what Akechi would call eye-catching: His black hair a mess of waves and his dark eyes framed by big, black glasses. In general, he looked like a “normal student”. Akechi would almost call his behaviour reserved and unassuming, when the talk show hostess picked him out among the audience to voice his opinion. The guy had hesitated, clearly out of his comfort zone, but he quietly gave his opinion as agreeing with the thieves, believing them to be just – apparently, he was yet another of their “fans”. Thinking nothing much of it Akechi had countered his point cheerily, but seriously, expecting little resistance worth talking about, but the student stood his ground and maintained that Akechi’s points were equally flawed. And it was at that moment that the young detective really noticed his eyes. Though his entire demeanour had previously screamed of shyness and bashfulness, his eyes were filled with fire – steely-eyed staring the young detective down. Akechi couldn’t help, but wonder for what those flames burned. And so, after the show he had almost out of impulse called out for the guy and asked for his name, trying to establish a connection.

It was all for future discussions, of course, he had told the somewhat baffled student by the name of Akira Kurusu, and deep inside he was telling himself that as well. The argument was sound. No judgement could be called just without being able to endure numerous counter-arguments. He had only finally found himself a conversation partner, who could keep up with him, that was all. But inside, his curiosity had sprung to life, and like all hidden desires its hunger was insatiable.

Actually meeting up with this guy proved difficult. Akechi found himself busier and busier and despite using the same metro in the morning as him their meetings were short and few and far between. Still, he looked forward to them. He would always spot the Akira in the usual massive crowd, waiting for his next train. Despite his seemingly ordinary looks Akechi couldn’t help, but feel that once you knew him, the guy stood out from the crowd: messy black hair and glasses catching the light in a glimmer. Those mornings were always a little better than the rest.

Following Akechi’s reasoning for getting to know the guy, they conversed about current topics – mainly about the thieves and their latest actions, of course. In a way, Akechi felt like he was relieving some stress, when he talked to the unassuming student. Voicing his newest theories and complaints Akechi probably did most of the talking, but the other party did always chime in - seeming partially amused and partially annoyed with his constant theorizing. Or was it just him being guarded? It was so hard to tell with his eyes often hidden by that reflective glass. But regardless of his intentions Akechi was never in doubt that the young man meant every single word he uttered. He had this quiet calm to him, as if just under the surface he was quite confident in himself. And in some of Akira’s smiles, Akechi caught a hint of cockiness, of superiority. And it bothered him like nothing else in this world.

Really, what were Akira’s intentions for talking with the detective? What did he even stand gain from this? 

And what was this feeling that struck Akechi deep in the gut? This weird concoction of uncertainty, of frustration and fascination? 

Meanwhile the case took a turn, and suddenly the Phantom Thieves had taken down a mafia boss that had notoriously been scamming and ensnaring students in the Shibuya area. Somehow, they had managed to take down someone, whom even the police couldn’t touch. Of course, this caused the public to go wild. Relatively speaking.

In a poll, challengingly set up by the Phan-site after Akechi’s appearance on TV, they asked, whether the Phantom Thieves were just, and yes, according to 36 % of the voters, they were. Many looked past this fact as unimportant, but for Akechi it represented a serious problem: over a third had been swayed to their beliefs. The poll didn’t list any real numbers on the amount of voters, but in theory a third of Tokyo could have been convinced of the “Thieves of Heart's" justice. Tokyo contained approximately 13 million people, and the mere thought of over 4 million of them following and agreeing with what was essentially terrorists chilled Akechi to the bone. That was, of course, only one of many possibilities. He couldn’t prove it and therefore should not assume.

But it was on his mind constantly.

There was an increasing pressure to find these guys, to figure out their approach – because how did you really steal a person’s heart? How could you possibly prove anyone guilty of such an act in court?

During all this time, with all of this building stress, Akechi had begun to notice things about his unassuming companion that made him frown – things that were… peculiar, to say the least. Mainly, Akechi didn’t seem to be the only one caught by this guy’s gravity. Circling in orbits around him were persons of interest - people that hadn’t necessarily been directly involved in previous cases concerning the Phantom Thieves, but they had all been close to it. First and foremost was the guy that Akechi liked the least: Ryuji Sakamoto – a guy, who had run into serious problems with the first victim of the thieves (namely a gym teacher at Shujin named Kamoshida), a hard-ass that flung his words around like stones from a slingshot. He wasn’t incapable of smiling, Akechi had seen it happen from a distance, but for the detective the young punk had no kind words. Whenever Akechi appeared, Sakamoto was always aggressive and protective of his quiet, bespectacled friend. And for some inexplicable reason that pissed Akechi off.

He wasn’t the only one though: Ann Takamaki, the girl of rumour, part-time model and flashy-looking, also previous victim of Kamoshida. Yusuke Kitagawa, the talented former student of the fraud, Madarame (target nr. 2) and unlike Sakamoto and Takamaki, he didn’t attend Shujin Academy. He had no obvious, prior ties to the Shujin trio, and Akechi found it highly unlikely for this group of people to meet under normal circumstances. Finally, a young woman by the name of Makoto Niijima had joined them. Though she attended Shujin together with original three, she was the student council president. It was… unusual for a girl of her status to spend so much time with what could only be called “problematic students”. Furthermore, Niijima was the younger sister of Sae Niijima, Akechi’s own boss, who was dealing with the case of the Phantom Thieves. Though not related to any specific case, she was also suspiciously close to them. If she was anything like her sister, she would have had nothing

It was all horribly complex. A Gordian knot presented for Akechi to figure out. And at the centre of the knot stood this Akira Kurusu around which all these people of interest orbited. Him and his frustratingly magnetic eyes and aloof smile, which had Akechi growing more and more convinced that he was hiding something.

 

***

 

One day Akechi had simply had enough. It happened right after the hacker terrorist group named Medjed decided to challenge the Phantom Thieves, with society suffering the consequences should the thieves fail to perform. Akechi was antsy after reading their second threat, when he encountered the “People of Interest” group, and without much prior thought he unloaded his frustrations on them – letting his theories finally see the light of day and watching their reactions, as he slowly encircled their various suspicious reasons for being present.

Of course, he couldn’t prove anything, but it was worth it to see their narrowing eyes, whether that be from anxiousness or offense. True or not, there was just too much to this theory that Akechi couldn’t let go. All the while he listed his reasoning's the black-haired Akira - in theory the least conspicuous, yet always the most prominent – stared at him with calm, analysing eyes. On the surface he hardly looked concerned, almost bored in his mannerisms, but underneath it Akechi felt that the guy’s full focus was on him. And it gave him an unexpected shot of energy. Akechi hardly noticed it, but his heartbeat picked up – beating with a full-bloomed excitement of an oncoming confrontation that had been building for weeks.

Then Sakamoto butted in. Standing protectively in front of his friend, as if he owned him, Sakamoto angrily told the young detective to “shove it” and leave them alone (though much less politely so).

It was then Akechi inevitably snapped.

In a few short steps, he crossed the distance between himself and his target. Hastily, but firmly, he grabbed Akira’s right arm, and before anyone had the time to react, began to drag him along. He didn’t spare a single glance to the crowd parting in front of his angry gait. Part of him felt uncharacteristically rude, the rest simply didn’t care. It was only further fuelled by his hostage’s lack of struggle. He probably was looking at him again, evaluating, as if he had certain expectations of Akechi and was secretly waiting for them to be either fulfilled or denied. Oh, Akechi would give him something to evaluate, something to ponder, and he bitterly hoped that it would transfer but a fragment of his frustration to him. See, how he liked it.

Finally, Akechi spotted, what he had been looking for – a bathroom closed for cleaning. Opening the door with a dramatic slam Akechi bid the cleaner leave the room immediately. The older man looked like he wanted to protest, but something in Akechi’s eyes left him mute. With a silent nod the man grabbed his cleaning cart and began to leave.

“Leave the sign!”

The man jumped with a start at the harsh words, but nodded again. Akechi wondered, how long he could stretch these wilful actions. Surely, he would have to pay for this eventually. But that wasn’t now. Now he was finally all alone with the guy, who had plagued his dreams.

And who was currently starring at him, mouth hidden behind a thoughtful hand, thoroughly obscuring it from Akechi’s view, but he could swear there was a hint of a smirk behind it. Let’s wipe off that stupid smirk.

He walked towards his target with determined steps, forcing Akira to back up against the nearest wall. Akechi slammed his gloved hands against the wall on either side of him – effectively caging the guy within his arms. He was just barely taller than the guy, but for once he felt the full effect of the difference, as he gazed down at Akira, whose gaze was slightly obscured by his dark lashes because of the angle.

“Gotcha” slipped out of his mouth, before he could catch himself. Short of breath, it was all Akechi’s brain had seemed capable of thinking. He cursed himself for using such childish words.

“Oh?”, the Akira laughed a bit, his voice a little breathy after the short run (though not nearly as affected, as Akechi had been expecting. Curious). “I didn’t know that you had been hunting me, Akechi-san”

Akechi very much doubted that. After running through multiple scenarios revolving around the People of Interest group being the Phantom Thieves he had decided on the single most likely theory: The guy in front of him had to be leader of the suspicious group. All the other members seemed to automatically default to him, when they were debating, and though they probably didn’t realize it, all of them unconsciously turned their bodies towards him, whenever Akechi showed up and threatened the status quo. It had been especially clear, when he had confronted them just now. But like everything else, he couldn’t prove it, and now that he finally had the elusive guy here, mere inches in front of him, this uncertainty only became evermore infuriating.

Afore-mentioned guy raised his hands in a gesture that could have been taken as innocent, but for Akechi only came across mocking: “Am I under arrest, detective?”

Akechi snapped his head up. Was this, but a joke to this guy? Did he not realize the consequences of his actions? Of Akechi’s all, but certain conclusion? If all of this turned out the worst possible way he would go to jail. At best. He would… disappear. 

For all Akechi knew this could even be the last time he saw him. One misstep and this would all be over. It was only one possibility, he knew that. There was no proof, so he couldn’t assume. He shouldn’t. But… inside his heart, he had already made up his mind: the young man in front of him was a criminal. And if this was truly so, this might be his only chance at catching him with his own hands. Whatever that might entail, he was still not sure of.

Akechi grabbed both of the guy’s wrists and slowly leaned in – passing into the Akira’s personal space in a very deliberate motion. His eyes widened behind the glasses, and he seemed to be at a loss for words. For once. Akechi used his befuddlement to study his face closely, if only to burn it into his mind: the shiny black hair was messy as always – almost as if he had a permanent bed-head. Akechi suddenly flushed, hopefully unnoticeably, as his brain immediately fed him an image of this guy in bed. Naked.

Akechi had to close his eyes for a few seconds, forcing himself to concentrate on reality. The black tussled hair framed a neatly arranged face, and now that Akechi was looking closely he found it to be rather handsome. While the young detective was quite fond of his friend’s bespectacled look, he found himself wondering, how pretty he could be without them. His eyes were big behind the glasses, a deep, dark brown, somehow looking darker than usual. Were his pupils dilated? Was it caused by excitement? Maybe Akechi’s eyes were the same right now. He wondered. And the lips. They were slightly parted, breathing a hot breath against Akechi’s own, merely centimetres apart now. The lower lip was slightly fuller than the top, and Akechi wondered, if it was somehow softer too. Unconsciously, he leaned closer, and suddenly the distance was gone.

Soft. That was his first impression. Just as soft as a girl’s. Interesting. At first the kiss was hesitant, neither part willing to move any further, but then Akechi increased the pressure ever so slowly, enthralled by the way the guy’s lips seemed to mould after his own, and suddenly Akira let out a contented sigh against Akechi’s lips, parting his own. That was when Akechi left all pretence of professionalism behind.

Licking his partner’s lips and catching a bit of teeth, a sharp sensation against the very edge of his tongue, he slipped it in, exploring the warmth of his partner’s mouth. Removing the glasses that were suddenly very much in the way with one hand, placing them on the nearby sink, and grabbing his chin with the other, he coached him to relax his mouth a little further. It was all Akechi needed to slip in just a bit more tongue, but it made all the difference in the sensations he received from one of his most sensitive organs. He explored the moist cave of his companion, licking the palate, feeling every single little bump and nook, wrapping his tongue around the other’s and sliding it against the sensitive skin underneath it. He leaned further and further in – pressing him against the hard bathroom wall and slowly coaxed his knee in between the other man’s legs, slightly rubbing against his groin. Akira eventually began to press his hands against Akechi’s shoulders, a weak protest pressing against his collarbone, but the detective just let him struggle just a little longer, so that when he finally released him, the other was left breathless.

Akechi pulled back to look at him again. With a heaving chest and flushed lips, he looked far more dishevelled – for once a little out of control. It suited him, Akechi thought, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

While they were both catching their breaths, one of Akechi’s hands found itself brushing through the black waves of hair, and the young detective felt a pang of regret that he couldn’t clearly feel it through the deft leather. This close he caught a strong aroma of well-roasted coffee beans, a scent so familiar and relaxing that he felt momentarily stunned. His partner likewise was staring, seeming confused at the abrupt break in Akechi’s otherwise explosive actions, at the almost tender way his hand was stroking through his hair.

Then Akechi slid his gloved fingers down his partner’s neck, noting the Adam’s apple, as the other gulped, and the moment was broken. Was he nervous, perhaps, Akechi wondered with poorly hidden satisfaction curling his lips.

The black student jacket’s buttons were quickly popped off, as Akechi deftly made his way through both it and the guy’s shirt. He’d rather just rip through it, but he could hardly do that in a public bathroom. What he had in mind was bad enough already. Baring the guy’s pale chest Akechi was amazed by his physique. On the outside, he looked like an absolutely average student, but his muscles showed signs of regular training, beautifully defining his chest and stomach area. Again, Akechi’s observing side noted this as another piece of confirmed evidence towards his theory, and he felt that well-known rush of satisfaction that came, when the puzzle pieces fell into place exactly as planned. Yet it was immediately deluded by a painful twinge of foreboding despair He quickly forced the unwelcome feeling down.

Under the pretence of performing another test for the sake of his own satisfaction, Akechi slid a finger down the young man’s right nipple. He heard him inhale suddenly, presumably shocked at the cooling sensation of the leather. His fingers moved on to lightly pinching it, pulling it teasingly, and looking on in wonder, as the nipple stiffened, reacting to him. He immediately moved to tease the other, which reacted even faster. As he flicked them, Akira squirmed under his touch.

“Akechi…san, please”

“Please?”, his eyebrows lifted at the vulnerability displayed in the other man’s voice.

“Not… your gloves”, he managed to breathe out.

Ah, of course. The firm touch of the leather gloves must have been a tad too stimulating. Then again that might not be such a bad thing. Akechi was tempted to just continue – even at the expense of his gloves, but then he had another thought. He lifted one hand and laid a single finger on the Akira’s lips.

“Then take them off for me”

His partner stared him down with a steely look and just barely hesitated, before he took the finger in his mouth and bit it - a tad harder, than Akechi found necessary. Maybe it was going to dent the leather. But it only served to fan the flames that were spreading a scorching heat through his loins. Already his pants felt painfully restrictive.

Agonizingly slow, even for himself, Akechi pulled his hand out of the trapped glove and removed it from the Akira’s mouth. Finally, with nothing between their skin Akechi enjoyed the touch of his lips twofold. They felt hot to the touch, perhaps swollen after their kiss. He then wondered, if he could make them even more so.

Slowly he slid his thumb in, and it was warmly received, entangled by the other’s tongue.

Swiftly Akechi leaned down and covered a nipple with his mouth, the one which had reacted the most.

“Ake-“

With the finger in his mouth continuously sliding against the top of his tongue Akira could barely speak.

Akechi shushed him and immediately latched back on to the nipple. Lightly flicking it with his tongue and carefully biting it, he enjoyed his partner’s squirming, followed by protesting moans. It was firm in his mouth, and he could feel every bump in excruciating detail, as he dragged his tongue over it, over and over again, in maddening circles. As he sucked on it, Akechi’s hair was suddenly grabbed and he was pulled back with a determined tug. At the same time, Akira ripped Akechi’s finger out of his mouth.

“No… more… teasing”, he ordered.

“Oh? You seemed to be enjoying it though”, Akechi noted amused and gestured toward the other’s pants, where an erection was straining against the fabric. The guy stared him down, and Akechi regretfully left the spit-glistening, and aggressively red nipple be. He kneeled on the cold tile floor and marvelled at the bulge in front of him. Lightly touching it, he gently rubbed the fabric against the erect member underneath. His partner made a frustrated groan and glowered at him, but Akechi was in no hurry. This scene had haunted him in dreams he had stubbornly tried to forget – now it was time to ensure the other was left with a similar hunger.

After lightly cupping the balls in front of him through the fabric and rubbing them slightly, Akechi finally unzipped the restraining garment. The guy helpfully lifted his hips off the wall, and Akechi slid the pants down. Underneath were well-defined thighs matching the strength of the upper body and black underwear that, at this stage, was pretty much ruined by the guy’s pre-cum. However, Akechi only felt satisfaction seeing that, knowing that he had caused this, and he licked the still somewhat restrained member up the entire length. To his surprise and embarrassment, he found himself making noises he could only describe as “moaning” at the taste. With an internal sigh, Akechi quickly removed the pair, releasing the guy’s engorged dick. He was equally amazed by its flushed colour, protruding veins, and the drops of liquid seeping from the tip. He slid a curious finger down its slit and saw his partner lightly shuddering. Sensitive.

Akechi had never given another man a blowjob before, so in many ways, this was entirely new territory for him. Like other times, where he was confronted with a new challenge, Akechi took it on with all the intentness and professional analysing he always did. While he had never given a blowjob, he had most certainly been the recipient of some, and it was with these retrospective encounters and the resulting sensations in mind that Akechi got to work.

He proceeded to grab the base with one hand, securing a tight grip, while the other hand moved to take control of the guy’s hips, before he finally took the dick in his mouth. As he licked it, he noticed the slightly salty taste. It was foreign, but not entirely unwelcome, and Akechi took as his mission to taste it more. As his mouth was filled with the new sensations, he progressively slipped more and more of the dick inside his mouth, filling it, until it reached his uvula, where it triggered the gag reflex. Akira winced, as Akechi’s throat tightened around the tip, looking as if, he was resisting the urge to thrust into his mouth. The young detective recovered from his mistake and started slowly devouring his dick, carefully avoiding both teeth and uvula, now that he was aware of his limits, thrusting as much of it into to his mouth, as he could currently take. Meanwhile he started to jerk him off with his hand in a patient, smooth rhythm, wanting to drive him absolutely crazy. Seemingly it worked. The young man breathed harshly, his chest heaving violently, as he closed his eyes and gave into the ecstasy that came from chasing the high. His grip in Akechi’s hair quickly turned painful as he neared that desired release. So close, so close

 The tension was quickly overflowing and flooding Akechi’s senses as well. Without even the slightest of touches his pants were feeling tighter and tighter – making that sweet ache in his groin ever more unbearable. It felt amazing, yet so unsatisfying that Akechi feared he would not last much longer, if this kept up.

He opened his mouth, desperately trying to voice his thoughts between his harsh pants: “… can’t… Ake-chi, let.. go… plea…se”

But Akechi only hastened his pace, as he felt the dick tighten in his mouth, every vein pulsing in a rapid beat. Soon the pulse grew too powerful, and the guy came in bursts of salty cum that filled Akechi’s mouth and almost overwhelmed him – forcing him to make a slight sputter, before he controlled himself and shut his lips tight against the sloshing liquid sensation inside. After the initial shock, he eagerly swallowed the load, while his brain fed him information about the cause of the consistency – how the fluidity pointed towards Akira having very recently pleased himself (or had been pleased). He slowly wiped his mouth, noting the experience and internal comments for later, and looked at his partner, who quickly averted his eyes – a rare blush colouring his cheeks. Akechi stopped and took in the sight. Who knew that this mysterious man in front of him could actually be a little cute.

“It’s been a while, huh?” he said, as he stood up and gave the other a heated kiss, the hesitancy of their first kiss feeling like a faded memory now. Akira made a face at the taste of his own cum, but indulged the kiss all the same. He slid his arms around Akechi’s neck, with a hand settled firmly in his hair, drawing him closer, until the other’s groin rutted against his own erection, which was quickly rising again. Akechi felt that he could come like this – in the warm embrace of his partner, with his lips being sealed by Akira’s mouth and his hips erotically rubbing against Akechi’s painfully pulsing bulge. But it wasn’t enough. Now that he had tasted this, he had to have more.

Exploring, he slid his hands down his partner’s back and grabbed the firm ass tightly. He felt a slight jump from the man in front of him, but no resistance, as he massaged his ass. Deciding to get a little more adventurous, he reached behind himself, to the nearby sink, and grabbed the bottle of hand soap. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but right now it would have to do, and parts of his brain were already noting where to get something more appropriate.

Quickly he coated his fingers in a thick layer of creamy soap and started rubbing a slippery finger against the other’s tight entrance. Akira gasped and shivered against the cold soap, but the gasps quickly turned into lewd moans, as the soap warmed up, and Akechi’s finger teasingly slipped in. The ring muscle was tight, untested, pressing against Akechi’s finger from all direction. He tried to be patient, he really did. But the way this man moaned was driving him insane. He wanted to thoroughly drive him against a wall, watch him unravel at the peak of pleasure. He wanted him to be fully at his mercy. Completely his, if only for a while.

Slowly his finger slid in past the ring muscle, and he marvelled at the intense heat surrounding him. He was so tight, constantly shifting the pressure around Akechi’s finger, and his grip grew slightly painful, as his nails dug through the coat. Akechi quickly moved to claim his mouth again, letting his partner focus on the familiar sensations, before the detective slowly started to move. It was very slow at the start, but little by little, Akechi’s finger spread the creamy soap out against his partner’s inner walls. His finger explored every nook and cranny, enjoying the feel of the fleshy folds around him, which reacted to his slightest touch. This was bad. His erection pulsed heady and ready, as he continued to rub it against the other’s. It was again this constant feeling of needing more, and Akechi grew fearful that he might take more than his partner could actually give, but then he felt the man teasingly biting his tongue.

“…re”, he mumbled.

“Pardon?”

“More”, this time it was a full-blown demand, and Akechi felt a chill run down his spine. He quickly slid in another finger, and though the walls resisted, with the help of ample soap it was not nearly as bad as the first finger. With speedy precision, he scissored his partner’s insides open. The grip on his shoulders tightened even more as he slid a third soap-covered finger into the throbbing hole. Though this was not exactly his expertise, Akechi drew from his basic biology lessons, and navigating from the tightness of the hands on his shoulders Akechi mapped out the guy’s anus, noting when the hot breathing next to his ear hitched.

“Ah, is this… yes, this must be your prostate” he stated, gently caressing it once more. Akira had closed his eyes, as if giving into the pure sensation, as Akechi’s fingers used him to orchestrate their lewdly moist symphony.

“More?”, Akechi teased, ceasing his caress.

The young man pulled back to look Akechi square in the eyes: “It’s not enough. By far.”

Being commanded by the supposed leader of the Shadow Thieves, who managed to cut an impressive figure even in his current position, Akechi felt a wicked flash of desire run through him – an urge to rise to his partner’s challenge.

So Akechi immediately spun him around, making sure he put his hands against the walls for support.

Also shedding jacket, the young detective finally freed his aching cock and stroked it a couple of times with a soapy hand, again utterly abusing the soap dispenser, steeling himself for the experience to come. First, he lightly rubbed it against the tight ass in front of him, purely enjoying the feel of the strong muscles firmly pressing against the tip, before he lined himself up with his partner’s trembling entrance. It winked at him, as Akira momentarily tensed in anticipation, and leaked languorously. Akechi suddenly found himself wanting to kiss it, despite the unsavoury soapy taste that would result, but his cock begged for emancipation. It would have to wait for another time - if there would ever be another time…

He quickly shook the darker thoughts away. For now, he was here, and he was with him. Pressing his length against the entrance, Akechi slowly, but surely pushed his swollen head through the threshold. The heaty sensations hit him like a truck, and he grabbed Akira’s hips for support, leaning all too much weight on the man in front of him. This… was overwhelming. It was so tight, as if moulded around him, and every little contraction that his partner unconsciously went through he could feel. It felt… akin to perfection.

At first, further entrance felt impossible. The impressive build of the man in front of him was severely putting Akechi’s strength to the test.

“Breathe”, he sighed, barely louder than a whisper, and Akira finally let out a breath he likely had been holding unconsciously. It was followed by a determinedly deep intake of air, slowly breathed out again, until Akechi felt the muscles partially release their cramping hold. 

He groaned, as he pushed further, slowly, but steady, encouraged by Akira’s breathy moans, until finally, his entire length was sheathed. For a short while Akechi marvelled in the sensation, letting the other take some calming breaths and prepare, before he in a smooth motion slid his cock back out. He waited, until it almost slipped out, before he with a snap of his hips slammed it back in. His partner heaved in shock, as Akechi’s balls slapped against his cheeks with a loud smack, echoing between the bathroom walls. Surely, if anyone walked by, they could be heard.

Speaking of which, he wondered how long time would pass, before the cleaner would return. Probably not too quickly, but in reality Akechi couldn’t take the time he really wanted to.

The young man began to squirm before him, but Akechi held his hips in a tight grip and without further ado, withdrew his erection from the comfort of the warm walls. In a fluid motion, he slapped it back in repeatedly, allowing his companion to stretch, yet never giving him time to properly catch his breath. Akechi himself had to close his eyes, as his entire length was embraced and accepted - every inch caressed by the copious folds deep inside. Finally, when he felt the entry was smooth enough to his satisfaction, he leaned over to whisper in his partner’s ear:

“Let’s find your favourite spot again, shall we?” Akechi breathed, desire clouding his voice.

With that Akechi started thrusting in a steady rhythm, making the other gasp for breath in between every probing thrust, which Akechi started angling according to the mental representation his fingers had mapped out. Suddenly Akira went rigid underneath him, his breath caught in his throat.

“Ah, there it is”, the young detective groaned with a smirk, as he felt his dick being gripped tightly by his partner’s walls, the sensations feeling so vastly more layered that his experience with his fingers almost felt like a weak imitation.

Akechi slightly lifted the young man’s hips, angling it so that every single thrust brushed against his sensitive prostate. Led on by the man’s gasps and moans, Akechi picked up the pace, thrusting deeply and decisively, fully intending to make his partner come before him, though the growing heat in his groin was very much working against that.

The guy’s knees were shaking, unused to the strain Akechi’s harsh thrusting was putting them through. The detective noticed how the man’s arms grew strained, veins popping out, as they tried to compensate against the wall. Quickly he guided him down to the floor, where he then continued his vigorous thrusting, as his companion laid splayed on his arms and knees. Every thrust pushed him to the floor, where his nipples must have been brushing against the cold with every single stroke, as he was releasing high-pitched sounds Akechi had not heard before. His pants and moans grew desperate, as his muscles swiftly starting tensing, but it was when Akechi reached around and began stroking his leaking erection, he truly seemed to lose control.

“A..kechi….sa”

Akechi shushed him: “Just. Akechi. Drop. The -san. Already”, he gasped through the waves of pleasure hitting him, challenging his focus and unsteadying his pace.

Akira nodded, his ears unusually red. Akechi couldn’t help, but lean over and lick one of them earning him a drawn-out moan that further encouraged him to bite down.

With a sudden gasp and a tensing body, the Akira came. Akechi thrusted further in for a few strokes, as his partner’s body tensed all around him in the most delicious way possible, before he finally came himself, gasping as the sensations overflowed him and shaking, as an onslaught of endorphins flooded his brain. He stared the man in front of him - collapsed against the floor and gasping for air – and then slowly drew out his dick, leaving a wet, white trail after him - finishing the enticing picture.

Still gasping Akira looked at him with achingly red lips and nipples and a wet, dripping hole. His black, tousled hair was somehow even messier than before, a proper bed-head, and Akechi leaned forward to brush a few especially stray strands away from his face. He had thought it impossible, when he had given the blowjob and looked up at the guy’s needy face, but this sight was unquestionably even more beautiful. It was only then he gave himself time to curiously examine this burning feeling in his chest, as he tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind an ear and wiped away the sweat on his partner’s forehead – it wasn’t quite frustration, nor the burning feel of anger or jealousy, not quite happiness either. It was an enticingly bitter-sweet feeling, a warning bell of future bliss and future pain. But at the time Akechi was not able to discern this, as he continued to gently caress his lover’s face.

 

The aftermath was messy, awkward, and complicated. There were people to reassure and to apologize to - to make up tall tales and lie to. But even before that they had to make a quick walk to the nearest Uniclo to obtain two pairs of more decent pants. While the stains on the originals were somewhat small and not immediately visible, they couldn’t endure any kind of scrutiny, and the two young men made sure to avoid any people that might know them during their little trip back and forth from the bathroom. Each armoured with a cheap pair of pants, they decided to split their ways, sure that any social interaction would only be further complicated by the other’s presence.

Akechi returned the cleaning sign to a nearby employee of the station, making dutifully sure to apologize for any inconvenience his friend’s sudden bout of nausea might have caused. Though he felt that the worst loose end was taken care of, Akechi left the station weighed down by a confusing and new sort of frustration seated in his gut. Suddenly, he felt very unsure, where things might go from here. He had utterly disturbed whatever pattern he might have seen in the string of cases going on, and thrown himself into the complicated mess Akira Kurusu was involved in.

When he finally returned home, he sat up long past midnight and contemplated.

At the other side of town, a young bespectacled thief lay on his bed, his frown a true mirror of the detective’s.

 

With that, “detective prince” Akechi Goro for the first time caught a hold of the Phantom Thieves’ leader, Joker, and then willingly let him slip out of his hands. It was not to be the last time either, for theirs was a relationship of catching and being caught. And though Akechi didn’t realize it at the time, his heart had been taken too, stolen by the charismatic thief. Long after, he would finally comprehend that, while researching and seeking patterns in the Phantom Thieves’ actions, he too had been marked as a target. When he had finally snapped, he had handed over the keys to his heart himself.  And every time after that he only succeeded in falling deeper.

Back then neither of the two knew the consequences that came to be from their relationship, and how it quickly would change the very outcome of the case that had brought them together.