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“Dude, you tryin’ to get Akechi to kill you again?”
Akira’s slightly out of breath, his rushed search throughout Osaka finally catching up to him now that he’s slowed down. More than a few people probably thought he was insane as he darted from store to store under the harsh sun, but it’s hardly the first time strangers scrutinized him. At least he’s more or less used to this kind of weather, he couldn’t let a bit of sweat get in the way of his mission.
He looks at Ryuji with hesitant eyes, the two of them cooling down from the heat in the shade outside of the theater. “Depends, I guess. He say something?”
“Psh, he walked past a while ago lookin’ pissed. I tried askin’ ‘im what’s wrong, but he just said ‘Your leader is a fucking idiot,’ and left!” Ryuji does his own attempt of mimicking Goro that Akira hopes he never has to see or hear again. And for Ryuji’s sake, he hopes Goro doesn’t either.
He looks alarmed, his concern for Akira written all over his wide eyes and clearly taken aback. Akira just frowns and waits for him to say more, but the blonde just stares back at him without another word.
“Is that… all?”
“Dude. I’ve never seen him look so friggin’ pissed off, and that’s sayin’ something,” Ryuji exclaims. “Haru was here too, she said you guys were talkin’ on the crossing before it happened. And that you just left him standin’ there.”
Akira glances around and tilts his head, “Huh, I didn’t realize she saw all that. Where’d she go?”
“Oh, Ann and Sumire invited her to some ramen. Apparently it’s a ‘Girls only’ thing, or whatever.”
As unfortunate as it is for Ryuji, Akira’s grateful to know at least three of his friends will have something to keep them busy for a while. He really doesn’t need anyone else questioning him about the state of his relationship… but mostly not for any of his friends to come looking for him after this. And especially not for any of them to actually find him.
“Anyways, I thought things were goin’ well with you two, but imagine how bad things’ll be if you guys break up?” Ryuji pauses and gasps in shock, “Holy shit, did you dump him?!”
Akira’s heart stops at the mere thought of breaking up with Goro, suddenly twinged with panic. He’d never survive it. He’d probably drop dead from sheer heartbreak, or simply drown in his own tears. Then if by some miracle he didn’t, he’d bear the scars of it for the rest of his life. Haunted and never able to love again after the one and only love of his life slips through his fingers. Left unwhole as his other half flits from his grasp.
And he’d especially not be in any state to have a casual chat with Ryuji so soon after.
“We didn’t break up,” he says a little too fast, just to squash the idea as soon as he can. “I was heading to see him right now… and I’m pretty sure you’d be able to tell if we did.”
His best friend relaxes at the reassurance. It warms Akira’s heart to know he cares that much, but of course he does. Even if it took him a little longer than everyone else to realize why Akira was just a bit more quiet after the collapse of the Metaverse. Why he burned anew when Akechi came back half a year later, why he’s at his brightest now.
Like he’s finally complete.
“Yeahhh, I guess you’re right. Heh, the two of you’d prolly be bawlin’ your eyes out. Shit, or someone might actually end up dead…” Ryuji looks slightly terrified as he imagines the fallout from their theoretical breakup. Their never going to happen breakup, more precisely. He crosses his arms, “Look dude, I’m just sayin’ he looked real angry.”
Akira tugs at his bangs, “Yeah, he was kinda mad at me. But it’s, uh, nothing to really worry about.” He hopes Ryuji doesn’t ask for more details, but at least he can try to redirect the conversation, “And he calls me an idiot all the time.”
Ryuji snorts, “Tell me about it, dude. It’s basically like an effing pet name at this point, the way you two flirt is—hang on.” His eyes light up in sudden realization before narrowing in suspicion, “Don’t tell me this’s all been some kinda weird foreplay shit?!”
Akira cringes at the shouted word, a little too loud for comfort when they’re hardly alone enough for where the conversation is easily heading. He looks around for a more suitable place to stand while he mulls over how to broach the topic of his sex life with Goro. Or how to just avoid it entirely, he really shouldn’t keep his boyfriend waiting any longer.
“Hm, this says that ‘Foreplay is a natural and healthy precedent to intercourse.’ Akira, why does Ryuji think it’s weird?” Sophia’s voice pings up from his phone, just barely surprising them from their conversation.
Ryuji’s eyes go wide and he tries to get a look at Akira’s phone screen as he pulls it out in front of them both. When she’s brought out, Sophia looks at them with curiosity, waiting for an answer she can’t easily find with a search. Akira drags them to a more secluded corner where hopefully no one will see them talk to the vibrant red-headed girl staying in his phone.
“Hey, I- I don’t think foreplay is weird! I think their foreplay is weird,” Ryuji defends. “You shoulda seen how those two acted in the Palaces we did, and they only did two of ‘em together! I mean, not that they’re any better in the Jails, but…”
“I see. So Ryuji doesn’t approve of your relationship with Goro, then?” Sophia looks at Akira pointedly. “I’ve noticed a few of the others seem to act differently around him as well. Why is that, Akira?”
“Wha- I’m so approving of their relationship! Akira’s never been happier! The others just—“
Akira really doesn’t want to hash this out right now. Not when he’s clearly in enough trouble as is. And especially not when he knows what’s waiting for him. It’s not his fault the convenience store and pharmacy took so long to find and get through, not to mention the extra time he spent to drop Morgana off with Futaba.
“Can we talk about this another time? Goro’s not getting any happier with me here.”
Ryuji stops mid-explanation and winces, “Ah, right. Sorry, bro. Got kinda carried away. Think Yusuke is up to watchin’ a movie with me?”
“He is if you pay. I’d go with you guys, but… y’know.” Akira darts his eyes between the two, “Actually, either of you know where Goro is?”
“Huh? You don’t even know where your own boyfriend went? I thought you were in a rush to see him.”
Sophia nods her head in the middle of the screen, her braided floating hearts swaying along, “Akira was given a very strict deadline so he’s been quite busy. In fact, he hasn’t spoken to Goro since he was told to—“
Akira panics and cuts her words off, “Do you remember where he walked off to, Ryuji? I can call him, but—“
His phone suddenly vibrates and sounds out its usual pinging notification. Sophia’s screen blocks the banner, but she’s quick to speak up, “Oh, Goro just sent you a text, Akira. Maybe it’ll help! Here it is.”
It’s really only because of all his time as a Phantom Thief that Akira reacts so quickly. It’s not like Sophia has the slightest clue as to why she’s not allowed to look at his messages with Goro, so he can’t really fault her for it. With near cat-like reflexes, Akira shuts his phone off and lowers his arm just as her screen starts to cut to his chat log with Goro.
His very lewd and not-for-anyone-else’s eyes chat log, more precisely.
“Uh, you okay, dude?” Ryuji questions.
Akira winces and brings the phone back into view, now darkened by its off screen. “Sorry about that, Sophie. You can come back up in a minute, just gotta look at it myself.”
Ryuji snickers, “What? Hiding your guys’ sexts and nudes?”
Akira shrugs, “Pretty much.”
He spins the phone with his fingers in a move that comes easy to him, idly watching it atop the tip of his middle one. Huh, he thinks, would it make Sophie dizzy? Probably not.
“Wait, for real?”
He gives the blonde a flat look, “We’re literally dating, Ryuji. And why would I let anyone else look at them?” Goro’s told him that he has a tendency to be possessive, or even territorial. He might just have a point, but it’s not like Goro’s any better.
Akira watches it spin and critiques his technique, mentally noting how he can make it even more fluid. It's a habit he still hasn’t outgrown, one he doubts he ever will. After all, a thief's work is never truly done. And more importantly, he knows how much Goro loves the dexterity of his fingers.
Like the best friend that he is, Ryuji slumps against the wall and looks at the ceiling. “Say no more, dude. Have at it.”
It’s completely possible that the message is a regular, non-sex related one. Maybe Goro played his turn in 8-ball. Maybe he’s changed his mind about the request Akira offered earlier. Or maybe he’s just sending Akira some dumb video he thought was funny.
“Thanks,” he says before taking one last look around.
Akira pulls it up with impressive discreteness, as expected from a thief of his caliber. But as he looks at the latest message and finds a singular image, it’s exactly what he expected considering the earlier conversation with Goro. Well, it’s not as lewd as it could have been at least. He knows Goro is capable of much, much more obscene things than the fairly tame photo.
For one thing, his cruel boyfriend didn’t even bless Akira with the slightest glimpse of his hole in the picture.
It’s a tasteful shot, like something out of a classy erotic photoshoot. Goro rests on his stomach, the camera capturing his displayed body from his lightly freckled shoulder down to his toned calves. He’s half-dressed, his button up shirt is gone and the loose grayish top he still wears is cropped up his waist to expose a teasing amount of smooth milky skin.
The photo’s angle and the slight arch of his back perfectly accentuates his plump ass, every bare curve in full view. His pretty ass is highlighted by the slutty black underwear he’s wearing, so thin and barely covering a thing Akira’s hesitant to even call them practical. He’s clearly posed to show off, well aware of his own assets and how to best use them.
Akira tilts the screen ever so slightly, as if on instinct. Ryuji’s no threat to him, and yet Akira can’t help the base feeling of wanting to guard what’s his.
Ryuji seems to figure it out just from Akira’s reaction, “Holy shit, you weren’t lyin’? Damn, I underestimated you two. Glad he’s got that stick outta his ass, though.” Akira bites back the easy and obvious quip. “I think you really make him happy, ‘kira.”
It nearly gives Akira whiplash. One moment, he’s thinking about how he’s become the proverbial stick in Goro’s ass. And in the next, he’s struck by one of the sweetest things Ryuji’s ever said to him.
He tugs at his bangs, “I hope so, it’d only be fair.”
Ryuji pushes himself off the wall and laughs as he playfully hits Akira’s shoulder, “Geez, you’ve got it bad.”
Oh, does he ever.
He chances another look at the photo just to enjoy the eye candy. Normally, he’d enjoy some much more personal time with it, but there’s really no time for it right now.
And yet, just the familiar and welcoming sight of Goro’s perfect ass is enough to make his mouth water. He still remembers the first time he saw it freed from the confines of tight pants, how it felt like his entire world shifted on its axis. Like he had a new understanding of life itself.
Akira swallows at the memory.
“Did Goro let you know where he is?” Sophia’s voice brings him back to reality as she asks from somewhere in his phone. God, he’s glad he set his boundaries back when she first ended up in there. “I can send him a video call request if you’d like to speak with him. Unless you want to find him yourself, Akira.”
Akira clears his throat, “It’s fine, Sophie. He’s in the RV.”
“Huh? He send more than the pic?” Ryuji questions.
He shakes his head, “Not exactly. Remember that plush I showed you earlier?”
“The dumb takoyaki one? Yeah, you were friggin’ stoked about it, dude.”
Akira feels hurt on the plush’s behalf. It’s dumb and cute. Which makes it a perfect gift to remember his time as a tourist. He loved it from the moment Ann showed it to him: a giant and cartoonish takoyaki ball that immediately made him think of a certain someone. It isn’t giant, giant, exactly. Probably closer to about the size of a basketball, but even that’s still pretty big for a takoyaki.
Ann must have sensed how much he loved it—or she just didn’t want it—because she didn’t waste a second in giving it to him.
“You just don’t get the artistic beauty of it, Ryuji,” he defends. Akira will have to show it to Yusuke later, he’ll definitely love it too. “Anyway, it’s in the background of the picture. So it’s the RV.”
Akira didn’t even notice it at first glance, but who can really blame him? When faced with a near scantily clad image of his pretty boyfriend’s perfect fucking body, how could he be expected to pay attention to anything else? The finer details in the background pale in comparison. They’re insignificant. At least, they are to the horny and pent-up side of him.
But it’s not like he’s entirely controlled by his dick, and he knows how Goro’s mind works. How he expects Akira to live up to their constant rivalry despite the fact that they’re dating now. If anything, especially because they are.
The takoyaki cushion is barely even really in the shot; it’s easy to miss and brush off as just some regular pillow at the edge of the picture. And yet, he’d be a poor rival and boyfriend if he missed even something like that.
Akira feels a rush of satisfaction. Of pure, addictive adrenaline.
It’s glaringly obvious to him that Goro left it in the shot just enough to give him a hint of where he is—to see if he could figure it out. To see if Joker could.
It sends a thrill through his veins, one he’s closely intertwined with the sweet and cruel feeling of his beloved Crow. They are one and the same, after all. And that means every part of them.
Akira and Goro. Joker and Crow.
A perfect match. Rivals, eternal.
“Wait, but what if it’s just an old pic?” Ryuji points out.
“Do you think he just has multiple takoyaki cushions?” Ryuji just shrugs in response, so Akira continues, “And besides, I’ve never seen this picture before, it’s definitely new.”
He snorts, unimpressed by Akira’s deduction. “Psh, like you can actually tell. I bet you guys do this all the friggin’ time.”
Ryuji doesn’t need to know that they do, in fact, do it all the fucking time. Whether ‘it’ was the sex, the making out, or just flirting shamelessly over text. The pleasures of being young and in love, and all.
… And maybe being just slightly too dependent on the other to even exist. Like they were terrified the other would disappear if they weren’t melded together as one.
But what does Akira know? It’s not like he can ask his ex-therapist. Not that he’d be too eager to trust Maruki’s opinion on their relationship in the first place.
Sophia takes it upon herself to pop back up on his phone’s screen, which he should have just okayed after his last look at the message. He feels bad about basically sending her away, but it’s not like he has any other option. Akira adores her, really, but things would be a lot easier if she wasn’t stuck in only his phone.
The chat log is replaced by her and the blue background around her, so Akira deems it safe to share with Ryuji again. She looks at them both with a small frown, “Is it not common for couples to share pictures with each other, Ryuji?”
“Uhh, I mean…”
“Goro and Akira send each other photos and videos quite frequently, but Akira’s told me I’m not allowed to look at any of them or their texts to each other. He has an entire album titled ‘<3 Goro <3’ dating back about two years.”
She pulls up the front of the album next to her as she speaks, much to Akira’s dismay. Thankfully, the cover photo is just a selfie of the two of them at the Jazz Jin. He still remembers taking it, his hand warm from Goro’s own and the sheer joy he felt from having their first picture as an actual couple.
It’s a good thing Sophia knows not to open it under any circumstances. There’s really no reason either of them need to see Akira’s dick pics and Goro’s hole in all their bare glory. Not to mention the videos of them fucking in various positions and places.
“Holy- is that number right?! It hasn’t even been a year since you started dating! How can you guys have that many sextapes?!”
Akira hides behind his glasses, “They’re not all just sextapes…”
Ryuji laughs and shoves Akira’s shoulder. “Dude, that was a friggin’ compliment! You’re practically drownin’ in ass! So like,” he wiggles his eyebrows, “how good is it?“
“Ryuji, please shut up.”
The blonde groans and drops his head in defeat, “God, I gotta get laid.”
The picture of the album disappears from the screen and Sophia nods with a thoughtful look in her eyes. “Goro said the same thing about you to Akira, Ryuji. Would you like me to help you set up a dating profile?”
“Ugh, I’ll pass,” he mopes. “It’d just make me think about how much he’s gettin’ while I’m left out here to dry.”
Akira levels him with a stare, “You ever consider why that is, Ryuji?”
“Huh? Whaddya mean?” He looks as lost as he does studying for exams. “Uh, you think I gotta change up my look or somethin’? Think the glasses thing can work for me? Some chicks seem to dig it. I mean, it worked on Akechi, didn’t it?”
“Goro says he hates my glasses.” Akira’s pretty sure Goro just hates that he doesn’t hate the fake glasses. It’s not Akira’s fault he looks great whether he’s wearing them or not.
Akira glances at the time and winces, he’s spent way too long chatting with Ryuji. If he tries helping him understand how to even stand a chance of getting a girlfriend, he might never leave. Goro would probably end up abandoning the camper and throttling them both in the middle of Osaka.
Honestly, it’s like Ryuji learned nothing from Sojiro’s advice. Unlike Akira, who obviously used his endless charm and looks to bag the hot piece of ass that is the love of his life.
Tacking onto the time he’s spent chatting, he undisputedly knows where Goro is now. Which means he doesn’t even have that excuse to save him anymore. Akira would have found him eventually without the picture, but with it, Goro knows just how long he’s delaying.
He adjusts his bag and extends his phone out to Ryuji. Sophia can pop up and talk just fine even when it’s locked, so she’ll be free to have fun without him there.
“Okay, Goro may actually kill me if I take any longer. Can you take Sophie with you?”
“Sure, but where’ve you been sending her any other time you’ve been… y’know.” He leans in towards Akira, speaking in a more hushed voice as if he’s finally remembered where he is, “Sexting or fucking?“
“She goes into standby. It’s basically like she’s sleeping or ‘off’, she never sees or hears a thing.”
Ryuji moves back away from Akira and leans on the wall behind him. “Psh, consider yourself lucky, Sophie. You’d think they’d know to lock the door to Leblanc when they’re fu—“
“It was his birthday, Ryuji. What did you think the ‘Closed’ sign meant?”
“If you could flip the sign, you coulda locked the door too!”
Akira huffs and grabs Ryuji's hand before dropping his phone in his palm. “Anyway. I think she wants to explore the city some more.”
Ryuji fumbles a bit to hold the phone and bring the screen back up. When he does, Sophia smiles at them both. “I’d love to watch a movie with you and Yusuke, Ryuji! We saw him by the crab shop, he’s most likely still there.”
“Shit, for real? I musta missed him or somethin’ earlier.” He looks at Akira with one last hesitant look, “You sure you’re gonna be alright? We need you both in fightin’ condition, y’know.”
Akira waves them both off casually, “We’ll be fine.” He’s sad that he won’t be able to leave Goro unable to walk afterwards, but it’s simply the price of their Phantom Thievery. “Have fun, guys.”
Ryuji stands with Sophia as Akira heads in the direction of the RV, sighing to himself before he starts his own walk the other way. He grumbles under his breath, “Some of us are gonna have more fun than others. Lucky bastard.”
“What is Akira lucky about?”
“Uh, shit, uhm… Hey, where’d you say Yusuke was?”
~~~~
The summer season is easily Akira’s favorite time of the year. Even after permanently transferring to Shujin for his final year, it’s been difficult to see all of his friends as often as they used to. But summer’s always the perfect chance to make up for it and do the things they couldn’t through the year.
Like having all of the Thieves back together on another heist.
Like being able to spend all the time he could possibly want with his boyfriend.
Granted, last summer was Metaverse free and Goro wasn’t exactly around to spend time with. Akira still thought the boy was dead when he returned from his hometown a few months after the Metaverse collapsed, and god how much a year changes things.
How could he have ever dreamed that Goro Akechi would walk into Leblanc one cold autumn night while he studied for his exams? An almost nervous look in his normally fierce crimson eyes, a silent clench of his fist at his side. A practical reflection of Akira, the two frozen at a standstill. One broken by their fists until they were both bloody and high off of the messy duel of their reunion.
But all that painful mourning over the boy he lost twice, the torturous longing when he came back and neither of them knew how to make the first real move for months? Whether they even should?
It was more than worth it in the end. Akira would do it all over again if it meant he could finally love and have Goro as he does now. His fated rival, his near murderer, his other half. The love of his life. The boy he’ll never let go of again.
The boy who absolutely despises summer.
“It’s fucking ridiculous, why couldn’t this shit have happened any other time of the year?” his soulmate complains.
As close as one can get to soulmates, at least. Akira likes to think it’s kind of romantic that they were literally destined to destroy each other by an actual god. Goro usually just rolls his eyes and fails to hide a blush at the idea.
“If it makes you feel better, it gets way hotter out where I’m from.”
“Then remind me to never fucking go to the countryside in the summer.”
“There goes our next summer plans then. The place sucks anyway.”
Akira’s pushed away with a firm hand just as he tries getting in Goro’s space. His boyfriend scowls at him, “Can you not? I really don’t need the extra body heat right now, Akira. The breeze here is decent and you’ll just screw it up.”
Morgana peeks over Akira’s shoulder, “What’s got you in a mood? You do realize you can go stand in the shade, right?”
Crap, Akira really doesn’t need Morgana butting into every part of this particular conversation. As much as he loves his friend, he’s used to being sent away while Akira spends time with Goro. His poor little ears have heard things a cat should never hear.
“Hey, Mona? Can you go on a walk while I talk to Goro?”
“Ugh, do you have any idea how hot the floor is right now?”
Goro’s smug voice speaks up, “You do realize you can go walk in the shade, right?”
Morgana grumbles as his own words are thrown back to him, but he leaves them both without much more complaint. He’s certainly learned to flee the pair at a moment’s notice ever since they started dating. Even a bit before, if they’re being honest.
Akira leans against the wall of the crossing, the two of them standing at one of the outward curves of the bridge. He smiles fondly as he admires the breathtaking sight of his boyfriend, “For what it’s worth, you still look as hot as ever.” Goro glares at him and Akira cracks a small grin, “Pun absolutely intended.”
Goro just groans and turns away from Akira, preferring to look over the bridge into the long waterway. Most of his face is still visible to Akira, and god what a sight he is. Akira thinks it might be physically impossible for Goro to ever not look gorgeous, or maybe he’s just biased.
As little as he cares for summer, the season suits Goro so well. What with the casual and light clothes he wears, the more comfortable way he holds himself now. It’s like a reminder that he’s here with them all. That he’s not just a memory confined and lost to that chaotic year of the Phantom Thieves. That he’s free to exist and live beyond those days.
It feels painfully domestic, so beautifully normal.
Akira can’t help but imagine more. Waking up to soft sheets and a familiar warmth by his side in a real bed. Looking up from the two cups of coffee he makes to see his own shirt from last night, the only thing covering Goro’s sore body. Gently bending him over their own kitchen counter, making love in the home they’ve made.
But the summer look Goro has right now is more than enough until then.
“Hey, did you see the takoyaki plush Ann gave me? You can have it when we’re back in Tokyo, I figured you’d love it.” Akira smiles at him mischievously, trying to goad him on.
Goro doesn’t look at him or even acknowledge the words. But Akira’s well versed in spotting his boyfriend’s micro movements, such as the small twitch his fingers make, the quick swallow of his throat as he remembers the takoyaki incident at the culture festival. Akira still can’t convince him to share an order of the dish with him yet.
So be it. If Goro doesn’t want to talk right now then Akira will simply satiate himself with the delightful sight in front of him.
Despite the heat, Goro chose to keep his hair down and loose today. His soft chestnut hair occasionally sways in the light breeze from the long waterway, the pointed tips of the strands brushing against the collar of his open shirt.
It’s the same light blue button up he wore that day at the beach in Okinawa. The same one they used as a shitty blanket in the sand when they snuck away from the group. Goro complained that it’d be covered in sand, but Akira didn’t wear a shirt at all to the beach and their towels were left in the RV.
At least Akira knows for certain now that sex on the beach is kind of overrated. Or maybe they just needed better, actual blankets. They’ll just have to test the theory out another day.
Akira taps his fingers against the bridge, “I think they kinda tricked her into buying it. I’m sure she won’t mind if it ends up with you, though.”
Goro makes a dismissive “Hm” sound and runs a hand through the side of his hair, pushing a lock of it behind his ear. It doesn’t last long before tumbling back down into place, determined to frame his beauty.
There’s a slight glisten of sweat across his skin, most noticeable at his neck. It reminds Akira of the same pale skin exposed to the cool night air in Sendai. Goro wore his hair up in a ponytail that day at the festival, as well as an elegant beige yukata to rival his dark one. Akira loved it. How it contrasted his own black attire, how soft it felt beneath his fingertips, how stunning his mean boyfriend looked in it.
His tied up hair showed off his pretty neck, the soft strands brushing against Akira’s face as he kissed the warm skin there and felt Goro shiver against him. His lips and teeth would leave little marks scattered across the sensitive skin, some hidden and some left for anyone to see. It’s not like Akira wants to hide how much he loves him anyway.
Goro shows it too, sometimes. Even if it’s usually in a different, more subtle—even convoluted—way than Akira does. Like when he bought them matching Featherman masks after seeing Ryuji’s. How he blushed furiously when Akira tried on the Red Hawk mask. His cheeks and ears a cute shade of pink as he dragged them to a dark corner away from the crowds after ‘Red Hawk’ tried flirting with him.
That night really solidified to Akira that he should look into getting actual Featherman cosplay to wear. Maybe he’d surprise Goro with it for his next birthday.
“I think it’d look nice on your bed. Mine wouldn’t do it justice.”
A slight shift of his weight. A small bite to his pretty pink lips.
He’s not wearing gloves either, he hasn’t worn them much since summer started. Most likely a result of his self proclaimed ‘sweaty’-ness, which isn’t really more than a natural amount from the weather. It’s just one of the things Akira notices that changes about his boyfriend when the sun starts beating down on them.
Akira loves it though. Loves the salty taste of his skin, the extra warmth of his body, the way it brings out his freckles. He doesn’t have much, but there’s a faint sprinkle of them that Akira adores. That he wants to count and kiss, to memorize and taste.
“Maybe I should just buy another?” he asks. “Ann wouldn’t mind if I told her why. Then we’ll have matching Featherman masks and matching giant takoyaki cushions.”
Goro runs a finger against the bridge in a slow and barely noticeable drag.
Akira hides his smirk. Almost there.
“What better way to remember our first road trip together than with tacky souvenirs? First step, matching tourist junk, next, matching rings—”
His perfect, beautiful, sweaty boyfriend finally turns to face him again. Goro looks livid, almost as mad as he did back when he got the answer wrong on a trivia show they watched after fucking on his couch. Akira tried blaming it on post orgasmic bliss, but Goro wasn’t having it.
They haven’t watched that show since.
“Do you really just not give a fuck?” Goro hisses. “Am I that inconsequential to you?”
Akira takes a breath and braces himself, he’s finally getting somewhere. Even if Goro’s being a bit dramatic about it. He’s been acting more agitated than normal for the last few days, but Akira just doesn’t know why. And Goro isn’t exactly easy to get answers from, especially when he’s mad.
It’s frustrating.
Considering where they are, he bites his tongue and keeps his voice low and level, “What makes you think that, Goro?”
He flares up, just barely able to contain himself on the very public bridge they’re on. Ages of experience as the Detective Prince surfacing against his desire to never act like that again. It results in a more whispered argument, their voices hushed to avoid attention.
“See what I mean? You don’t even care.”
“Goro, I don’t know what—“
“Five. Days. You haven’t fucked me in five whole goddamn days, Akira.”
“I haven’t- that’s what this is about?”
Goro scoffs and goes back to looking over the bridge without another word. Akira blinks, trying to process what just happened. He’s glad no one’s close enough to hear them, he can’t just let it end there.
He shifts closer to Goro, not too close but as much as he can to show his intent. Goro’s hair looks as pretty as ever, taunting Akira from afar as his frustrated boyfriend looks at something by the water. Akira sighs, he wants to run his hands through the soft and well-kept brown strands.
“You coulda just told me, Goro. You think I haven’t been dying for it either? But we—“
“Ran out of fucking lube?” Goro snarls as quietly as he can. “Have been stuck in a cramped piece of shit RV with a bunch of idiots for too fucking long?”
“I’m telling Ann and Sumire.”
“Fuck off, you know that doesn’t include them.”
Akira laughs softly, relieved that the problem is something easy to fix. Something he’s more than glad to fix as soon as humanly possible, really. He is an upstanding and generous boyfriend, after all.
He mimics Goro’s lean against the bridge, the two of them side by side as they look over the waterway. Their hands are just a few inches apart, Akira could easily overlap their pinkies with a single move.
So he does.
Goro doesn’t flinch or push him away, but his wine red eyes find where they touch in an instant. Torn away from the sights in front of them and drawn to the small contact. It’s almost a shame, it’s quite a nice view from where they stand.
But so was the ferris wheel in Sapporo. Another calm moment just for them, a quiet and comfortable peace they’re afforded so little.
Akira thinks it’s one of his favorite memories he’s made on this trip, one he hopes he never forgets. How Goro’s eyes softened with a gleaming look of wonder as they rose over the city, the slight squeeze to his hand the higher they got until they finally reached the top. His ex-assassin of a boyfriend rendered speechless by the thrill of a simple ride, a precious joy he’d been denied his whole life.
It was almost like they were just two normal boys. Sitting in the midst of the starry night sky, their lips connecting like they didn’t have to fight gods to be where they were now. Like the soft press of his boyfriend’s kiss was initiated by someone who hadn’t died twice.
It’s something Akira imagines they could have done so many times before, if they’d known each other just a few years earlier.
He’ll have to take him to the one in Odaiba when they’re back in Tokyo. To make up for lost time. To just see that look on Goro’s face again.
“You know, I’m sure at least one of these stores is selling lube. I can pick some up for us,” Akira offers.
Goro seems to have relaxed a bit, either from finally talking about what he needs or simply from their closeness. Akira really should have figured it out sooner considering how touch starved his boyfriend can still be. Then with the addition of the hot weather and their cramped existence with all the Thieves? Of course he’s irritable.
How lucky he is that Akira's more than eager to help.
“I’m sure you could, this place is fucking huge,” Goro grumbles. “So why are we still talking about it when you should be doing it?”
Akira smiles and bumps his shoulder playfully, “Just wondering if there’s anything else you need before I go. I know it’s a ‘no’ on condoms, but maybe you wanna try out some of those flavored lubes?”
No reply. Honestly, Akira’s surprised Goro didn’t tear his hand away.
“I’m not sure about it either, don’t really want it getting in the way of better tastes.” Akira’s the one to break their hold, finally pushing himself away from the bridge and standing next to Goro. “Just send me a request if you change your mind, okay?”
Goro turns to look at Akira with an annoyed look on his pretty face. “I’m not going to send you a fucking request for this shit, Akira. You have twenty minutes to find the normal stuff, got it?”
“Crystal clear, ma’am. No weird lube.”
“You’re an idiot. Stay in the shade, will you? I don’t need you boiling up on me.”
Akira’s heart swells, cataloging the words in his stockpile of convoluted ways Goro shows his love. They echo in his ear as he walks away, eyes jumping from store to store in search of a much needed bottle of lube.
Morgana runs up to him before he can get far, quickly making himself back at home in Akira’s bag. “How’d it go? You look kinda lost.”
He frowns and pulls his phone out in a corner, which quickly lights up with Sophia’s bright screen as she wakes up from her standby mode. “Hey, Sophie? You think I can manage to get through this whole place in less than twenty minutes?”
~~~~
“You’re late.”
Akira pants and looks at his boyfriend through lidded eyes, darting from dusted freckles to Goro’s spit slicked lips. “You know I love these kinds of greetings, but I was barely even inside. Risky, even for you.”
“Why do you think I moved this damn thing? Stop avoiding the topic,” Goro scolds.
The boner straining in his pants wants nothing more than to keep making out, but if Goro went through the trouble of finding a more discreet parking spot, he can wait a bit longer. Akira thinks they probably could have started this out with talking first, but being kissed stupid the moment he stepped foot inside the RV is a pretty good alternative.
“I think you were trying to set me up for failure with only twenty minutes.” His eyes drift along the wet shine of Goro’s lips, desperate to latch onto them again. “You knew it wouldn’t happen.”
Goro runs a finger along Akira’s jaw slowly and tuts, “Now what makes you think that, Akira? Do you think I have such little faith in you?” The words sound vaguely familiar, but Akira can’t remember where from while he’s distracted by Goro’s touch.
“You just wanted an excuse to hold over me so I’d let you suck me off first.”
He scoffs, “Please, like you need a damn excuse to get your dick wet. Believe it or not, I did think you’d be here sooner.” Goro tugs Akira’s glasses off and sets them on the table beside them.
Akira adjusts his hold on his boyfriend, shifting his hands to grab his waist and keep him steady, the two of them seated on one of the booth seats. Or more accurately, Akira’s seated on it while Goro warms his lap. It’s not exactly ideal or comfy, but the camper doesn’t have many options to use.
A cool hand cups his jaw and nimble fingers slide into the fine edges of his hair. The inside of the RV is thankfully cooler than outside, the air conditioning on a low level to keep them from overheating. Akira wonders how Goro would have reacted to being stuck in the Monabus in the middle of a cognitive desert.
“I got caught up with Ryuji on the way over,” he explains. “He thought you were gonna try to kill me again.”
Goro hums and moves his hand farther into Akira’s hair, his eyes filled with consideration as he tugs the messy black strands. “Is that so? Maybe he’s right. Clearly you’d rather spend time with him than come fuck me.”
He doesn’t entertain that with a response. Every single one of his other confidants weren’t left on read whenever Akechi wanted to hang out just for these complaints.
Akira moves his right hand downwards until he finds pillowy soft flesh. He runs a thumb beneath the waistband of the black underwear, daring to pull it upwards before letting it snap back down. He’s glad Goro shut the curtains before Akira arrived, his half-naked body is an absolute meal reserved for Akira’s eyes only.
The filthy and dark possessive side of him likes to think it has been ever since he first saw him back in the bathhouse that night in September.
He tugs the waistband one more time before massaging his thumb into the fat cheek, “You looked fucking hot in that pic, by the way. Are these new?”
His boyfriend breaks out in a laugh, bursting the sweet tension they’ve built up. Goro looks amused as he wraps his arms around Akira’s neck, his eyes glinting with delight. Akira looks down at the skin peeking out of his shirt and itches to take a bite.
He licks his lips while his hand rests on the upper curve of Goro’s ass, practically salivating at the mere prospect of a taste. He keeps his thumb hooked beneath the waistband while his long fingers rub the warm fleshy skin. Biding his time until he can finally take what he wants.
“Trying to figure out if I’ve been wearing them all day? You’d know if you did this earlier.” Goro grabs the back of his hair and pulls it back slightly, tilting Akira’s chin up to bare his neck. “Now, have you cooled down yet? I’d rather not have your sweat all over me too.”
Akira whines, “God, but that’d be hot, Goro.”
“And are you going to figure out where we’ll shower after? Or did you learn nothing from the beach?” Another tug to his hair that nearly makes Akira moan. “You know we’re on a deadline here, we don’t have the luxury of time.”
“Until the camper’s battery runs out?”
“Until one of your friends comes knocking on the fucking door. They can’t seem to last more than a few minutes without you.”
His hair is pulled back just a bit more and Akira bites back a groan. The feeling of Goro’s fingers against his head feels obscene, his dick perking up in interest with every tug. He wonders if Goro feels the same way when Akira’s hands are in his hair, when they pull and push his face up and down his cock.
He looks down at Goro and smiles at him wickedly, “Don’t you remember that time we stopped at a gas station? I can make you see stars in just minutes, Goro.”
Goro yanks his head again, pulling him back as if he’s on a leash. Akira wants to bite into him, to earn the pulls and tugs until he’s given even more. To feel those rough hands cling and hold onto him, the biting sting of nails down and across his back only fueling his thrusts as he takes and takes.
“Yes, you’re fucking perfect at everything.” Those well manicured nails he fantasizes about start to press down into his scalp, eliciting a pleased gasp from Akira. “How much can you do without getting us caught now, Joker?”
The codename shoots straight to Akira’s dick, spoken like Goro knows exactly how much it affects him when he says it like that. Which he obviously does, considering all the times he’s used it in and out of bed to play Akira like a damn fiddle. The slow grinding motion he does in his lap certainly helps the cause as well, pent up feelings bubbling to the surface.
He runs a palm down Goro’s thighs, “Is that a challenge, Crow? Fuck, the things you do to me…” His voice is already huskier, the rush from their kissing fast returning.
Akira loves this, loves everything Goro is. Loves everything they are.
He unhooks his right hand from Goro’s ass and waistband, bringing it up to his boyfriend’s pretty mouth and running his thumb across the lower lip. Goro finally lets go of his head and Akira pouts at the loss. He could have fucked Goro senseless even with that constant leash and pull to his hair.
He would have fucking loved it.
Goro grabs his wrist and keeps him in place, “You’re not off to a very good start. Do I have to remind you that it’s been days?”
Akira’s eyes go dark and he shoves his thumb inside the warmth of Goro’s mouth, the push met with hardly any resistance. It fills him with a sick satisfaction, his mouth parting open as he’s enveloped.
“It’s careless of me, isn’t it? To forget how needy you are, Crow?”
Goro sucks and licks at his thumb, readily taking in another finger that Akira prods in. Their eyes only ever break contact when Akira glances down at Goro’s spread pink lips.
“Nearly a week and you’re drooling over just my fingers?” he teases. “How could I ever hope to make it up to you?”
His brat of a boyfriend bites his finger, not too hard but just enough to leave a mark. Akira pulls his hand away and grins, “That all you got? And here I was thinking about making you cum for each day lost.”
Goro shoves his way off Akira’s lap and promptly lowers himself to his knees, pulling Akira to face him at the edge of the seat. “Shut up and get your fucking dick out, Joker.”
“Last I remember you have hands too, Crow.”
“Those’ll be busy elsewhere.” Akira groans and grows harder at the imagery of Goro playing with himself. “The longer you take, the less you get to ‘make it up to me,’ so hurry up.”
“I thought you’ve been dying to suck me off?”
“You’re harder than I am, Akira. So why don’t you prove how much you’ve missed me?”
Akira reaches for the front of his pants with a grumble, “Bossy. The lube’s still in my bag, you know.”
Goro looks up from the nimble fingers working open Akira’s jeans with an irritated glare, his impatience growing with every second Akira’s dick isn’t out.
Oh, the things Akira does to please. Although, he can hardly think of a more enjoyable punishment for their forced dry spell than by watching each other get off.
“Use the damn spit you just took.”
The sound of his belt buckle catches both their attention, two pairs of eyes drawn to the fine black leather and silver buckle. It’s not Akira’s personal favorite piece of black leather that he owns—not when a certain glove exists—but Goro certainly can’t get enough of it.
Akira moves his hands slowly, taking his time to undo the buckle and slide the belt through every ring of his pants. He purposefully sets it on the table once he’s done, watching every minuscule detail of his boyfriend’s face as he does. Goro doesn’t comment on it, but Akira can see the roaring greed and hunger in his eyes.
And he fucking loves it.
He makes quick work of the buttons, leaving only the fly of his pants to deal with. Akira unzips the fabric apart and pushes it down just enough to reveal the intimidating bulge of his gray boxer briefs. It feels better without his jeans confining him, his aching cock just a thin piece of fabric away now.
Akira looks at his kneeling boyfriend and palms the bulge of his dick, rubbing himself for relief and making the outline of his length all the more obvious. He strokes the top of his head and groans, his eyes shutting as he rolls his hips up into his hand. How the hell has he gone days without this?
He goes in for another stroke, but a sharp flick to his head breaks his rhythm. Specifically, a flick centered right in the middle of his forehead.
Akira opens his eyes and cracks a smile, “That aim on purpose? I can find those water guns if we want some realism. Maybe even handcuffs if Zenkichi left any lying around.”
“He’d fucking kill you if he found out.”
“He wouldn’t. You would, maybe the third time will stick.”
Goro scoffs as he stands and turns away, giving Akira another eyeful of that fat curvy ass that sends what little blood left in his head rushing all down south. Utterly weak to the heavenly sight in front of him and the mere idea of his proposal.
Akira’s heart thrums and his husky voice speaks up again, “Doubt you’ll find any, Crow. The belt should work just fine though, remember?”
His boyfriend laughs as he walks over to Akira’s bag, the poor thing discarded by the door after Goro had ambushed him with his tongue. He crouches down and digs through it, “You sound awfully excited, Joker. What would your friends think if they saw?”
Akira licks his lips at the curves and firmness of Goro’s crouched body, absentmindedly rubbing his aching cock through the fabric. “Door’s locked, remember?”
“Hm, don’t want them to see you reenact your own fucking murder?”
“Just don’t want anyone else to see your pretty fucked out face when you’re stuffed with my cock, Crow.”
Goro finds what he’s looking for, pulling out the bottle of lube Akira bought. One of them, at least. He wasn’t going to risk something like this happening again.
He turns back to Akira with a lecherous look in his sparkling red eyes, “Quite the stock you have here, Joker. Hoping to get lucky with half the damn city?”
“Something like that. My boyfriend’s pretty needy.”
“Sounds like a fucking slut.”
Akira grins and runs his eyes down Goro’s long legs as he walks back to him, “Aren’t I lucky? The man of my dreams is as in love with my cock as I am with him.”
Just as expected, the words make Goro pause in front of him, a whole new blush spreading across his body. As unused as he was to hearing them at all before Akira, he’s certainly gotten better at taking the words now. Just the simple fact that he’s still in the RV at all is a sign of clear improvement.
Goro grabs Akira’s chin with a slightly shaky hand, tilting his head to look up at him. God, he’s so pretty, so beautiful. Perfect. Everything Akira could ever want and more. Akira’s practically bursting to say as much, but he has to hold those thoughts in for the moment. Telling him that he loves him is already a lot.
“Well, aren’t you romantic? Comparing me to your fucking dick,” Goro mumbles without the slightest bit of anger in his voice, his red eyes softer than usual as he scans Akira’s face.
“Goroo, you know what I mean.”
Goro drops his chin and turns away before Akira can see his blush grow. A completely futile effort. “I- give me your damn shirt. We’ve wasted plenty of time already.”
Akira huffs and tugs his black shirt off, the air cooling every bit of his exposed skin. He’s left in his pants and boxer briefs, rid of his shirt and yet more clothed than his pretty treat of a boyfriend. Goro steals the shirt from his hands in an instant and drops it to the floor in front of Akira, effectively creating a perfect Akira shaped and scented spot for him to sit on.
He sits down on his side, his legs bent and stacked on top of each other while his right hand supports him. Goro hands him the lube and leans back to watch, which may as well be his own declaration of love in response. Akira was more than ready to just use Goro’s spit, but the slickness of the lube feels so much fucking better. Like he just has to shut his eyes and be reminded of how Goro’s wet walls feel around him.
Akira sets the lube aside on the table and hooks his thumbs beneath the waistband of his own underwear. He pushes the fabric down slowly, the hair of his happy trail and pubes starting to poke into sight. The base of his length barely sees the light when he notices Goro shift and rub his thighs together.
“Excited, Crow?”
“For you to shut up and get moving?”
He drags the waistband down against his length just for the relief of friction. It pulls a moan out of him, making his words throaty with arousal as he speaks, “Mmm, don’t worry, beautiful. I’m gettin’ there.”
One last tug finally frees his dick from its tortuous confinement, thick and heavy between his legs. He’s completely hard, their teasingly long conversation and kissing affecting him plenty before he was even touched. It must be the dry spell, but he’ll be damned if he lets himself cum before Goro.
Akira shivers from the cool air and grabs his length with his right hand, bringing his fingers to the head. He rubs Goro’s spit into the tip, smearing the hot skin with lines of saliva.
He groans at the feeling and locks eyes with his impatient boyfriend, “Planning on joining me?”
Pretty red eyes blink at him, “Give me a damn reason to.”
So Akira gets to work. He grabs the bottle of lube and expertly warms some between his fingers before gripping his dick. It'd be easy to make himself cum with the fucking hot view he has: his mostly naked boyfriend sitting on the floor like he’s waiting for cock, but he refuses to budge so soon.
Akira rubs the lube up and down his long length at a steady pace, stroking the veins and tip as if he has all the time in the world. A bead of precum leaks from the slit, his hard dick practically crying from how much it misses Goro.
He makes the deadly mistake of looking at Goro’s eyes. Those sharp crimson red eyes that he loves so much bore into him, latched onto every move and jerk of his loose fist. He really should have been more careful, being watched by his boyfriend always presses all the right fucking buttons for Akira.
“God, fuck…” he grunts.
The dark, hungry look in perfect red eyes. The constant build as they just watch. The push and pull until one of them gives.
It churns the searing heat in his gut, fuels the fire building within him as he puts on his show. As he utilizes everything that is Joker.
He starts moving his hand faster, his eyes fixed on Goro’s half nude body and the thin pieces of clothes still covering him up. It’s easily something out of Akira’s wet dreams, something he would have imagined and jerked off to hidden in Leblanc’s bathroom even when Goro was still the Detective Prince.
Akira drops his mouth open in a long groan, loud and rough, just how Goro likes it. Like it comes from deep inside him just to reach his boyfriend’s ears.
His fist gets tighter, the slick wet sounds of his cock grow with his own moans as he looks into those leering eyes. They blink at him so fucking pretty, looking up at him through long lashes like they do after Akira fucks his throat and finishes himself off on Goro’s beautiful face.
A sultry voice speaks up from those full and wet pink lips, “Just look at you, Joker… I haven’t even done anything and you’re about to cum, aren’t you?” Akira whines and squeezes his base before he actually cums just from those words. He needs Goro to cum first, but goddamn his evil boyfriend knows how to play him.
Goro gets back on his knees and presses right into Akira’s legs, batting his eyelashes up at him like a vixen. He wraps a hand around Akira’s own with a rough grip and tears him away from his base. Goro’s cute pink tongue darts out to wet his lips as he watches with a greedy look in his eyes, his unforgiving hand guiding Akira back to a jerking rhythm until they quickly build up to faster pace.
“Fucking hell, Goro… m’ gonna—”
Akira groans and shuts his eyes as he tries to stave off his orgasm, the hand around his refusing to relent or slow down. If he looks at his ruthless and perfect boyfriend now as he jerks him off, he won’t last another second.
His moans are interrupted by another grab to his chin, “Oh, won’t you look at me, Joker? You know how I love those eyes of yours.”
Akira never stood a fucking chance. As if the dizzying slickness and pressure around his cock wasn’t enough. But being called Joker in that sweet sexy voice? Hearing the word ‘love’ from those lips that struggle to ever utter it?
The final nail in the coffin is when he opens his eyes, because how could he refuse the words of his cruel angel? And it’s those damn fucking red eyes that he fell in love with that send him over the edge.
“God fucking, fuck! Shit…”
He moans open mouthed as he cums, the lines of white spurting up and landing on their joined hands. The intense feeling of orgasm washes through him, his hand forced tighter and firmer as Goro continues to move them. He lets it draw out until it becomes too much, his other hand coming up to separate them.
Akira pants and catches his breath, glaring at his smug boyfriend who goes back to sitting down on his shirt. His bitter defeat is evident on Goro’s fingers as he licks the warm cum onto his tongue and meets Akira’s stare.
He watches him swallow, “That was cheating, Crow.”
Goro licks a line up another cum slicked finger as if it were Akira’s dick and looks all too proud of himself, “Hm? Did you think you’d get off easy after making me wait?”
“My dick’s out, isn’t it? You’re the one who doesn’t look ready to me, Akechi.” The use of the name isn’t lost on him.
“The dick you just came with? Toss me the bottle and get yourself hard again, Kurusu.”
Akira throws him the bottle with more force than it really needed, but Goro’s quick to catch it anyway. He gives himself a moment to recuperate while he watches Goro warm his own lube, a simmering frustration building up through his body.
“I know what you’re doing, you know,” he says with a dark edge lacing his voice.
Sharp red eyes find his steel ones. “I’d certainly hope so, considering how many times you’ve done this for me.”
“Cute.” Akira leans against the booth seat and looks down at his boyfriend like he would a fine meal. “Make sure to be thorough if you really want what you’re asking for.”
He knows he won’t. Not when he loves the burn of Akira’s thick length stretching him out until he’s properly fucked open.
Goro dips his hand beneath him and his eyes flutter shut as he begins to prep himself out of sight. Just enough to help Akira along, just enough for him to really fucking feel it. But Akira knows he won’t be allowed to use his own fingers, likely another part of his punishment.
Another way to purposely enrage him. To push and push him until he treats Goro exactly how he wants to be treated.
The wet sounds of his fingers start to grow and a small moan escapes his lips, his brows furrowed in concentration as he works. Akira’s dick is more than interested, overeager to be wrapped up just like those nimble fingers are.
He palms his stiffening length with his right hand. “Just look at you now, Crow,” he echoes. “Fingering yourself on the floor of an old RV half-naked…”
Goro doesn’t reply, but his eyes open with a hazy look in them. The usual sharpness slowly fading away to the pleasure of simply fingering himself. He meets gray eyes until Akira starts moving his fist again, wine red eyes drawn to the steady back and forth of his hand. The joined slick sounds of their hands growing louder and louder in the camper.
They don’t say anything more as they watch each other get off. Resigned to throaty groans and breathless moans every time they do something just right. Like rubbing a thumb along his leaking slit, like brushing a finger against that sweet spot inside him.
Or simply when they lock eyes, dark and lidded as they glare into each other.
Akira knows he has to work fast, to use what little time Goro is willing to give as he carelessly preps himself. Which isn’t hard to do with how fucking pent up he is.
He knows they can’t spend the day fucking when they still have a job to do in Osaka. He knows any one of his friends can come knocking at the door any minute now. But most of all, he knows he won’t fucking stop until he’s fucked five days worth of sweaty sex and cum into his impatient and infuriatingly perfect boyfriend.
As soon as he’s full and hard, Goro practically pounces on him like a wild animal. Akira barely manages to catch him and hold his waist before he feels a dizzying burst of pleasure as Goro grinds down onto his flushed crotch. He gasps and the sound is quickly swallowed up by Goro's hungry mouth, their lips hot and wet as they press together.
Not one to give up so easily, Akira reaches a hand up into Goro’s honey brown hair and tugs it, imitating his boyfriend’s earlier force. Goro grins into the kiss and bites down on Akira’s lower lip, the sharp sting of fangs tearing his skin and drawing the taste of iron onto their tongues to share.
Akira’s hand tightens around silky hair and Goro breaks away with an unhinged smile and glint in his eyes. He grinds onto Akira and licks his lips, a flash of red disappearing with the pink of his tongue. He whispers into the small space between them, “Fuck me already, Joker. Make it fucking hurt.”
Akira’s lips twitch in a snarl. He doesn’t need to be told fucking twice.
He grabs Goro’s ass and hoists him up as he stands with little effort. His pants and underwear aren’t pushed down enough to restrain his movement, but he tugs them down just a little farther to free his full and heavy balls. He’d be fucking damned before he gives up the sound of the two things slapping against Goro’s ass as they fuck.
The muscles of his arms flex as he turns them around and lowers his boyfriend down onto the red booth seat, crawling his way on top of him until Goro’s forced to lay down beneath him. It’s not as ideal as a bed, but they’ve fucked in far more inconvenient places than this.
Simply to watch him squirm, Akira lowers himself until he’s facing Goro’s stomach. Immediately recognizing what he’s planning, Goro tries to yank him back up from his hair, but Akira doesn’t budge. Taking the sting from the tugs as he would any hit in the Metaverse, he lets the pain fuel him. Relishes the familiar rush of adrenaline flow through his veins like the sweet poison it is to his senses.
He manages to push Goro’s gray shirt up just beneath his chest, unfortunately keeping his rosy pink nipples out of sight. But it’s fine. They aren’t what he’s looking for right now.
Goro shifts beneath him and complains in a pitched voice that betrays his arousal, “You sentimental piece of shit, I’ve told you not to— mmm…” Akira places a feather soft kiss right at his goal, trying to convey every ounce of his love in the tender press of his lips. Goro’s grip goes lax in his hair, shifting to a fond caress as he breathes in a shaky voice, “God, you’re an idiot…”
Akira smiles into the scarred flesh and presses another kiss onto the very proof of his boyfriend’s survival. Goro squirms and sucks in a breath, his blushing face turning to the side as his eyes squeeze shut. He tends to hide away when Akira does this, overwhelmed by the suffocating affection and love that Akira gives. But he never stops him, never denies him the chance to worship the skin once torn open by a bullet from that piece of shit cognition.
With one last kiss to the scar, Akira shifts back up his body to connect their lips in a frustratingly sweet press. The softest one of the day, full of complete adoration. Until it quickly heats up as their heady desire wins out against the pleasant tenderness, their dicks still hard and desperate for each other’s touch.
Goro’s hands wander along the hard press of Akira’s abdomen, admiring the muscle he’s built up ever since going to Tokyo. Akira licks his bottom lip and coaxes his mouth open, slotting their tongues together as they continue to make out. He feels Goro roll his hips up into him and subsequently whine, the needy sound feeding a fire deep within him.
To take more, everything he has and is. To drag every sweet sound out of him until it’s all he knows.
He breaks their kiss and reaches between them as he speaks, “You’ve been such a good boy, Goro…” He hasn’t, really. Which Akira doesn’t mind. If anything, he can’t get enough of it. But honeyed words of praise always works absolute wonders on his boyfriend. “So pretty and needy… my good little fucking slut.”
Akira rubs Goro’s dick through the thin fabric of his black underwear—panties, more like—as he finishes off his mixed praise. Goro shudders and moans in response, rocking his hips into Akira’s touch and breathing a shaky “Akira” through his shiny lips.
Akira nods. He knows what his boyfriend needs, what he’s been begging for ever since he sent Akira on that chase through Osaka. What they both need.
He leaves Goro’s weeping dick trapped beneath the fabric and takes hold of his creamy plush thighs, guiding his legs to wrap around his back. Once they’re settled in their cramped but surprisingly comfortable position, Akira slides his fingers down Goro’s thighs until he reaches his perky ass. He pushes the black panties to the side just enough to expose Goro’s eager and waiting hole, rubbing a finger along the lube-slicked rim as he reaches for his heavy cock.
Akira positions himself with ease, his flushed tip pressing right at his boyfriend’s entrance.
“I swear to fucking god, if you don’t get inside me within the next— Fuck!” he shouts as Akira quickly pushes himself inside his ass, burying his length in one swift drag past the tiny ring of wet pink muscle. A full body shudder shakes him, his bent legs reflexively squeezing down on Akira’s back and pulling him in even closer. He shuts his eyes and moans, “God, fucking yes. Feels so big…”
Akira groans in agreement and hisses out in a rugged voice, “Fucking tight—“ He sinks in deeper and relishes the dragging wet friction of the hot velvet surrounding him. “You’re fucking sucking me in, Goro. Did you miss my cock that much?”
He doesn’t reply, instead opting to pull Akira in closer until he’s entirely buried in his tight, wet heat. Akira’s vision blurs for a moment, the tight squeeze around his throbbing dick so nauseatingly good that he feels like he’ll come any second now. Goro always grips down on him so fucking well, but with the barely minimal prep he gave himself? Akira might just fucking faint from how tight and good he feels.
He’s sure it fucking burns for Goro too. His small hole stretched beyond its limits with Akira’s obscenely long and thick cock, forced to take its entirety in too short a time.
“Move, Akira.” Goro rests his hands on Akira’s bare shoulders and digs his nails threateningly, creating crescent shaped marks. Akira’s lips twitch in another snarl as he pushes his hips flush against Goro’s ass. “Make me fucking beg for it.”
It feels so fucking good. The vice grip around him edges on the verge of pain, which makes it feel so, so much better. Knowing that they’re inflicting the same feeling to each other, that they both fucking love it, is dizzying.
He slowly pulls out, the slick walls around his length clinging to him deliciously like they never want him to leave. Like they want the shape and size of him engraved inside forever.
Once he’s halfway out, Akira slams back inside with a hard push. It knocks the breath out of Goro, his walls forcefully split open before he can adjust. He opens his eyes and blinks at Akira in a haze, those darling crimson eyes clouded over with lust.
He clenches around Akira and reaches a hand up to tug his messy black hair, “Harder. Or is that all you got, Joker?”
Akira growls and pulls back out before quickly burying himself again, eliciting a wanton moan from his boyfriend. “Fucking brat,” he hisses out. “Slut. I’ll give you what you fucking want, Crow.”
“Fucking prove it then already,” Goro spits out.
It’s difficult to thrust his hips effectively with Goro’s ass gripping him so tightly, but Akira does it anyway. It’s not the first time they’ve fucked like this, anyway. And it’s most certainly not the last either.
The two of them are so intertwined with each other, so intensely enamored, they’d simply be incapable of ever separating themselves. For better or worse.
He repeats his motions of pulling out and slamming back in until the thrusts come easier and easier. His cock carves its way through tight walls, as if Goro’s slick heat was learning to make space for him. Memorizing his shape, taking him just as well as the very first time and every time since.
The pain and burn fades away to pure, carnal pleasure. Goro’s hole is still so tight, molded to feel just fucking right. Akira groans and shifts just the tiniest bit he needs to brush his tip against Goro’s prostate. Just enough for his moaning boyfriend to feel it, for him to shiver and whine when Akira shifts away.
There’s always this certain glint in Goro’s eyes when he’s about to tear into Akira, whether that means riding him until he sees stars or simply during one of their chess matches. It’s one Akira instantly recognizes right now, one that feels like life itself and excites him beyond measure. Like the promise of Goro’s wrath is his very reason for living.
But it’s cut short when a rumbling sound tremors around them. Specifically, the telltale sound and feel that the camper has just run out of battery and shut off. And in its sad demise, taking the air conditioning with it.
It’s mostly Akira that pauses, his gaze shifting from the gorgeous sight of his half-naked boyfriend beneath him to the empty expanse of the RV.
He pushes himself up with a hand on the table beside them, still leaning over Goro but clearly moving to get up. “Crap, that’s not good,” he mumbles. “Gimme a few minutes, I’m gonna see if I can get it started again.”
Akira doesn’t actually have much of a solid plan beyond turning the keys in the ignition and hoping for the best. He may have driven the Monabus plenty in the Metaverse, but he’s never really had to deal with this before. It’s not like his cognitive cat car ever ran out of battery.
And most importantly, he’s still turned on as fuck and he doesn’t want to ruin the chance to dick down his needy boyfriend.
He begins to pull out, already planning how to fix up his appearance fast enough so he can get to the driver’s seat and figure something out quickly. But the legs around his waist chain him down, firmly crossed as they prevent him from leaving the warm body beneath him.
Akira looks back to find a thoroughly displeased Goro, deadly sharp eyes staring into him like daggers. “Fuck that. Pull out and I’ll fucking break up with you.”
He doesn’t need much more convincing.
Akira completely forgets about the RV and its battery as he dives back into a bruising kiss. His hand knocks over his glasses from the table, the clatter ignored as their lips and tongues roll together. But it’s hard to ignore the rapidly increasing temperature, the beating sun permeating through the camper roof and walls without any air conditioning to help make it tolerable.
And yet Akira groans and fucks his cock into Goro’s tight, slick walls like nothing’s changed at all. Goro drops his head against the red seat and moans, his left hand slipping down to his dick where it leaks into the panties while his right rolls up the rest of his shirt until cute, rosy hard buds peek into view. Simply too wrapped up in each other to care about the extra heat crawling between them.
Akira grabs Goro’s left wrist and pins it beside his head. His low voice is dark and threatening as he speaks, “You think you’re allowed to do that after begging me to fuck you all day?” He grips Goro’s chin with his other hand, crushing the wrist beneath him to support his weight. “You either cum from this or not at all, Crow.”
He ends his words with a rough thrust aimed right at his boyfriend’s sensitive prostate to nail in his point. Goro gasps and nods dumbly, melted to putty as Akira expertly plays him. Akira’s mildly disappointed that he’s lost to the pleasure already, that the stinging bite and scratch he loves is gone so soon. It usually takes him a little longer to reach this point.
But he knows it’s most likely because his poor boyfriend hasn’t cum on his cock in days now, so he’s inclined to forgive him. After all, how can he resist how he looks at Akira with a glassy look in his eyes? How his pupils dilate and silently ask for more?
Akira truly loves whether Goro’s cockdrunk or acting like a slutty brat. But the latter is just so much more fun. Particularly in the same vein that they both get off in when fighting each other in the Metaverse.
Besides, a cockdrunk boyfriend is simply a reward for the joy of taming and breaking his bratty behavior.
So Akira goes all in. He thrusts his hips viscously, every slam back in aimed to massage against Goro’s sweet spot. Akira vaguely registers the sweat that starts to build between them, the feeling of a drop beading down his forehead as he pounds his huge dick into an equally hot ass.
Goro whimpers and gasps in broken up pieces, his breathy sounds stuttering with the rock of his body every time Akira fucks into him. “Akira-“ he moans. “Right- nhh, fuck- there… ”
He’s close. Akira can always tell when he is. His body always starts to tense up in a particular way, his breath gains a certain hitch to it, his clouded red eyes look at him like he’s the only thing that exists in the world.
Akira rocks into him, his own climax nearing with every sinful drag and squeeze around his length. Not to mention how fucking hot it is that Goro’s already so close to coming just from being railed into the seat. Maybe he should make him go even longer without cock another time, just to see how much more he can be affected.
He uses the hand not pinning Goro’s wrist to encircle his perked up buds, desperate to feel him cum around him. Akira pinches and tweaks the cute right one, earning himself a porno worthy moan from his boyfriend. He tries to keep up the pace of his hips, but he stutters and doesn’t even reach the left side of his chest before Goro cums untouched.
Goro shudders and tightens up, riding out his orgasm and willing Akira to follow. He looks so goddamn pretty beneath Akira, his fucked out voice moaning and gasping incoherent calls of “Akira” and “Joker” until it’s nothing more than mumbles.
Akira jerks his hips in a few more stilted motions and shuts his eyes. “God, you’re so fucking good, Goro. Gonna fucking fill you up…”
He hears Goro whine and tears his eyes open to find him nodding his head. “Please , fuck-“ His free hand grabs Akira’s shoulder and clings onto his well toned muscle. “Cum in me, Joker. I want it-“
With one last slam in, Akira moans and buries himself as far as he can reach inside Goro as he cums. It’s a desperate and rugged sound that he makes, loud and unashamed despite where they are. If Goro is letting out every slutty moan and shout without a care in the world, why should he do any different?
And besides, he knows Goro loves how he sounds just as much as he loves the obscene noises of his boyfriend.
He feels Goro shiver while he fills him up with warm and sticky cum, as well as slowly rolling his hips as if to milk every last drop. Akira leans down and presses a kiss into his soft shoulder as he finishes off inside that delicious heaven, imagining how the slick walls around him become coated with his white spend.
How it’d leak out of him despite Akira’s efforts. How he wishes some of it would just stay there instead, how it’d find its way deep inside him until it takes and his pretty, perfect boyfriend would be forever his. Marked and made to carry his—
“Akira,” he hears in the midst of his fantasies. He’d ignore it, were it not for the fact that the voice belongs to the love of his life. He loosens his grip around Goro’s wrist and practically feels himself get hard again at the mere sight of his bruised skin. The shape of his fingers and hand are impossible to miss, lovingly imprinted in red like gifted bracelets.
His cock slips out of Goro, mostly because he doesn’t want to blow his next load too early. Not when he has plenty of ideas left; every reason they should stop be damned.
Goro tilts his head to the side and takes in his own look, his lips twitching in a smile before looking back into Akira’s eyes. His eyes are still clouded with lust, his appetite not yet sated.
And fuck, does Akira feel the same.
It’s thrilling, just as it always is. The promise of more to come. The knowledge that they can take and take and take from each other and still be ravenous for more.
The gorgeous maroon, weakness to his entire being, eyes glint up at him. Goro swallows and his bare chest rises and falls with shaky breaths, each movement daring to steal Akira’s attention. But he fights it, utterly enraptured by the eyes he swears will be the death of him, as they almost were before.
“Mmm, done already?” he teases. Akira snickers at the idea. “How disappointing…”
Challenge fucking accepted. God, Akira loves him so much.
He leans down and kisses Goro, pressing their lips together for a fleeting moment before biting his bottom lip hard. Just because he fucking deserves it, because he fucking wants it.
Goro groans and surges up for another kiss, his hands tangling into Akira’s naturally messy hair. He pulls him away and grins up at him wildly, “Fuck yes, more.”
Akira yanks both of his wrists away from his hair, barely wincing from the tug and feel of his dark strands. He manhandles Goro’s arms above his head of caramel brown hair and pins his wrists together with a single hand. His other hand blindly searches for his belt on the table, hungry gray eyes refusing to leave the sight beneath him.
Goro tracks his movements with hooded eyes. From looking to the side as his dexterous fingers latch onto the leather, to looking above him as Akira wraps his wrists with the belt.
“Stay still,” he warns in a throaty voice.
He tightens it with practiced ease, binding Goro before he decides to play the brat again and give him a hard time. Not that he wouldn’t relish another chance to punish him for it.
Akira lets it dig into his skin a bit, just enough to make him hiss and scowl but not enough to cut off circulation. Once he’s satisfied, Akira sits back on his knees and takes in the utterly gorgeous view. One he never tires of seeing, whether it was in the flesh or simply on the screen of his phone.
Goro always looks beautiful, beneath him or otherwise. But fuck, does he take Akira’s breath away now.
His caramel hair is like a halo beneath him, earning him every bit the name of Akira’s own twisted angel. His bound arms stay in place above him, elbows bent and riding his shirt up by the shoulders. There’s even a patch of wetness at his panties, his own cum dirtying the thin black fabric.
Akira brushes his fingers against the scar on his bare stomach, paying the skin its own worship as his eyes continue on. He feels Goro shiver from the touch, reacting as beautifully as ever.
“Akira, fuck…” he hisses.
His pretty face and neck is flushed a darling shade of pink. From either the heat or the sex, Akira doesn’t care which. All that matters is the way the blush spreads across his body, tinting the soft creamy skin exposed to him. Which is nearly everything, with how little the panties and rolled up shirt cover him.
Akira should have marked him up more. Bitten and sucked his smooth skin to see the way it lingers and bruises. Maybe even flip him over and spank him raw, just to watch how his ass jiggles and reddens with his palm print.
The image he conjures in his mind of every claim he’d leave on Goro spurns him on, his veins fueled with roaring heat and lust. He refuses to give in again until Goro is truly begging for it, but god, he can’t resist the base urge to ravish him until he couldn’t fucking walk.
He leans down and latches his mouth onto one of Goro’s nipples, giving him no time to prepare for the feel of his hot mouth and tongue.
Goro jerks and squirms beneath him, thrown off guard by the sudden onslaught of pleasure. “God, you-“ his words break off into a wanton moan as Akira rolls his tongue against the bud. “Fuck!”
Akira’s always loved how sensitive his boyfriend’s body is. How effortlessly it reacts to his every touch. How it earns him the prettiest fucking moans and view of Goro losing himself to blissful pleasure.
And his cute little fucking tits were no different.
The legs around him go tight as he sucks on the nipple, reacting and squeezing with every wet swipe of his tongue. There’s the obvious taste of sweat in his skin, the salt and warmth like heaven on Akira’s tongue.
He doesn’t neglect either side of Goro’s chest, using his fingers to tweak and rub whichever isn’t in his mouth. Purposely avoiding too much attention on one before switching to the other, giving him a taste of bliss before stealing it away as any other treasure.
Goro moans unashamedly, “Akira- please just-“
Akira can imagine how his hands must strain against his bindings. How they’d tangle into his hair were it not for the belt.
He looks up from the left side of Goro’s chest and unlatches his mouth with an exaggerated pop. Akira keeps his lips low and close to the bud, feeling the slick saliva between them as he teases, “Please what?”
Goro rolls his hips up desperately. “Fuck me. Please, fuck-“ he sobs when Akira scrapes his teeth on the skin just beside his nipple. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck—! Need it again, Joker… I- please.”
Akira grins like he won the fucking lottery. A sick satisfaction washing through him as if he’s won their little game.
He abandons Goro’s chest and finds his way back up to his flushed face, his grin fading to a lecherous smile as he takes in his prey. Akira grinds their hips together and moans at the feel of their hard lengths against each other through the wet panties.
He holds himself up with his right arm while the other leads his cock right back to Goro’s painfully empty hole. It’s slicker than before, the ringed muscle delectably wet with cum and lube. Akira’s length slips back in easily, the time spent fucking Goro’s tight hole open paying off in a smooth glide in.
Akira carves his way through hot wet walls until he bottoms out with a groan. He leans down and presses their foreheads together, their bangs and contact moist with sweat. He’s so fucking glad the air conditioning cut out, he knew fucking like this would be hot. Maybe next time Goro would wear a thin white shirt instead, the fabric lewdly clinging to him while Akira rails him into whatever surface they can find…
He whispers in the small breath of space between them, “You’re being such a good boy for me, Goro…” Goro keens and goes tight around him. “You feel so fucking good, I missed you so much these last few days.”
Akira pulls out and slams back in, knocking a moan from Goro’s plump lips. It’s addictive. To fuck his normally talkative boyfriend into nothing more than a mess of breathy moans and limp limbs. Not only does he get off on Goro’s pleasure, but the feeling of putting his pretty, bratty boyfriend in his place is like the best high he can’t get enough of.
He grabs Goro’s chin and crashes their lips together, easily slotting his tongue inside Goro’s willing mouth. Akira sucks on his pretty, pink tongue as he rolls his hips and builds up his rhythm. His tongue fucks the warm cavern of Goro’s mouth, mimicking the thrust of his cock and messily rolling their tongues together as if the taste was fine nectar.
It felt like they would consume each other. Like they’d never lose each other again.
He pulls away for a moment and gathers their shared saliva in his mouth, watching how Goro’s eyes flutter and blink up at him in a lustful and unclear daze.
Goro’s mouth hangs open as he expects more, too caught up in the moment to even consider anything else. Gripping his chin enough to bruise, Akira leans over him and allows the saliva to dribble through his lips. It trickles down in a clear, slick line until it lands on Goro’s waiting tongue. He groans at the sight, his skin on fire and his mind dizzy from the velvet walls around his cock.
Impatient from the slow pace of the line of saliva, Akira gets closer and simply spits the rest of it into Goro’s mouth. Goro swallows it up eagerly, his eyes glinting up at Akira in smug satisfaction. As if he’s getting everything he wants.
Akira grabs his waist and growls, “Fucking slut. Just remember, I’m not fucking touching you at all. Think you got another one in you?”
The hard length pressing up into the panties weeps for attention, but Akira has no doubt his perfect boyfriend can cum again anyway. And he’s reached the point where he doesn’t care how long he has to fuck him into the red seats to get him there.
Akira leverages himself up on his knees and pulls Goro’s ass into the angle to fuck down into him. It’s not quite a mating press, but fuck, does the idea linger in Akira’s mind.
Goro strains against his bound wrists as his hands curl into fists. And yet, he keeps them in place above him. Restless and eager to be used.
With a rough hold on his curved waist, Akira fucks his thick cock into Goro relentlessly. His stamina having recovered, nothing holds him back from using all the force in his hips to press as deep and hard as he can. Each slam of his hips pushes Goro with him, their sweaty bodies rocking and blurring together.
Akira dares to take a look at Goro’s face, eager to see him as he’s stuffed and pounded. It’s as sinful as always—his lips parted open in broken moans and eyes crossed in dizzy bliss. But what catches his attention are the visible freckles dusting his cheeks. Faint and sparse, and yet undeniably present from the blazing sun coaxing them out.
He pushes his hips flush against Goro’s ass, the wiry hair of his pubic area crushed against smooth, milky flesh. Akira pauses and moans, “Shit, you’re fucking beautiful.”
The frantic pace of his hips resumes immediately, not giving Goro any other option but to accept the words as he’s split open again. It’s always easiest to get those types of words in when he’s being fucked to orgasm.
Goro’s hole feels perfect and heavenly around him. Wet, tight, and warm. He doesn’t know how he ever lived without it, how he nearly went a whole week without the velvet embrace. Akira hadn’t even realized how much five days can feel like an eternity, only saved because of Goro’s own initiative.
How had he gone days without this dizzyingly sweet feeling? How did he even wake up in the mornings and not crave the hot embrace of his soulmate’s tight, wet walls?
He needs this forever. He needs Goro forever.
And Goro seems just as willing to take it too. Content to wrap his legs around Akira and pull him closer, to bring his thick length deeper and deeper into his insides. To allow his boyfriend to use him as he pleases.
Akira pistons his cock into Goro’s swollen and used prostate, angling each thrust to fuck into his sensitive nerves and render him into a moaning mess. His heavy balls slap into Goro’s ass and lewdly echo their wetness, the stink and sound of sex clouding the small RV. The cum from earlier sloshes with his cock, repeatedly fucked deeper into his reaches.
“Fuck, Joker-“ he whines. “Right there—!”
Each pull and push of his throbbing dick greets Akira with the feeling of Goro’s panties against his length. It rubs against him as they fuck, the friction constant and rough next to the smooth wet heat of his ass. Akira glances down to the panties, groaning at how wet they look.
He still won’t touch Goro, but at least he can tease him about it.
Akira fucks him violently and grazes a hand at Goro’s hip against the underwear’s waistline. His voice is deep and gravelly with lust, “You feel how wet you are? You’re fucking soaked.”
A hand drags his face into a sloppy kiss and the walls around him go tense. Akira barely registers the fact that Goro somehow managed to untie himself from the belt without him noticing, but he feels his heart flutter anyway.
He doesn’t even feel bested or beat. If anything, he’s fucking proud.
No one could ever compare to his infuriating boyfriend. To his beautiful rival.
He breaks the kiss and gasps, “Fuck, I love you, Goro.”
“Akira—“
Akira hadn’t said it with the intent of pushing Goro over the edge, but knowing his words are what send him into orgasm does inexplicable things to his brain. He rarely ever says it when they fuck, weary that Goro would simply attribute it to the sex and not take it as sincerely as Akira meant. But clearly, thankfully, it has plenty of weight to it to make him cum untouched again.
The squeeze of his hole around his cock is even more mind numbingly good the second time around, his boyfriend’s orgasm hitting harder than the last. It’s easy to tell. Goro’s sweet, broken voice whimpers and moans. His soft, deadly body shakes and trembles as he cums into the filthy panties.
It’s so fucking hot.
Akira doesn’t wait for him to finish riding it out, opting to chase his own release now that Goro finally came before him. He entraps Goro’s body with his own as he fucks into him like a feral beast. Rutting his cock into the tight hole with the single minded goal of filling him the fuck up with more cum.
Goro mewls and twitches beneath him, his arms and legs wrapping around Akira like he’d fall apart if he let go. Akira buries his face in Goro’s neck, his nose brushing against the sweaty skin and taking in a whiff of his heady scent. He hopes Goro does the same. That he breathes in the musk of their sex and lets it fill his lungs.
His pace is vicious. Enough to bruise and break anyone else. The raw friction and stretch of his cock brutal and obscene, and yet Goro fucking loves every second of it.
“Like that, Akira…” A hand holds onto his soft, messy black hair while another digs its nails into his back. It makes him feel loved , his own affection reflecting back onto him and threatening to suffocate him. “Take what you- nhh, fuck- what you want.”
Akira’s groan is muffled in Goro’s skin. But the words continue, whispered into his ear like a siren luring him to his demise, “You need it, don’t you? Use me.”
The camper shakes with them, undoubtedly rocking and betraying their lewd fucking to anyone paying close enough attention. As if the fogged windows and obscene moans and shouts weren’t enough to give them away already.
Akira doesn’t care though. Not when he’s wrapped up in the tightest, hottest ass he could ever want. Not when he’s being told to use his pretty boyfriend’s hole for his own pleasure.
He nails down into him, focused on the warm slick walls around him and the fire burning across his skin. Goro keeps murmuring and gasping in his ear with every hard slam, his voice pitched from the overstimulation as he cries out Akira’s name and codename. Each moan and sob like a shot of adrenaline directly into his veins, each pushing him further and further to his limit.
It’s sweaty and messy. The way their skin slaps together lewdly, the wet sound of their contact plapping in the air.
It’s perfect and too much. The way Akira’s cock pistons into Goro’s used hole until he’s satisfied.
Which doesn’t take much longer. Not with the sheer pleasure and lust roaring through him at Goro’s perfect body taking him. Not with the way his hole fits his cock like it was made for him.
“Fuck-“ Akira’s hips begin to stutter. Knowing he’s close, Goro gasps and clings to Akira in their last messy moments. He uses his legs and freed hands to pull him in, to give him no chance of escape. Not that Akira would want to. “Do it inside, Akira,” he pleads.
“God, fuck, Goro—“ Akira’s words break off into a throaty groan as he cums, his hips going still once he’s seated as deep as he can possibly reach.
The cum floods Goro’s ass, his load thick and warm as it paints his insides anew. It mixes with his last orgasm, the volume of cum finally reaching something worthy of making up for their five day drought. If only they had the time to do more.
He hears Goro sigh, content with the spend. Even his body has gone lax, everything about him a stark contrast from the tense and irritated boyfriend he’s been for days.
Akira groans and finishes himself off, the last of his cum spurting out in one last shock of pleasure. His dick starts to go soft soon after, so he pulls out. As regretful as he is to do it, they really can’t just fuck all day in the camper.
It’s easy to detangle their limbs, what with how relaxed Goro has become. Akira can’t help but grin down at his boyfriend, admiring his handiwork in the form of a completely fucked out rival.
Goro must sense it or have a third eye Akira doesn’t know about, because soon enough, a set of gorgeous red eyes peek out at him. They barely even consider him before fluttering shut again, but the act just widens his grin.
“You look like an idiot, you know.”
Akira thinks they should get married. But instead of spontaneously proposing, he just cheekily replies, “Your idiot, though.”
Goro opens his eyes just so Akira can see him roll them. It’s so petty and dramatic, so utterly Goro. Akira may as well swoon with the way his heart thumps.
He bites back the urge to tell him he loves him again.
A soft hand shoves at his bare chest. “Your funeral, maybe.” Fuck, Akira wants to tell him the words everyday. I love you, he’d say when the morning sun peeks through the blinds. I love you, he’d say when he hands his boyfriend his lovingly crafted mug of coffee. “Now get us some clothes and towels, I can already feel it leaking out.”
Akira hums at the idea and sneaks in one more kiss before crawling off of him. Goro stays resting on the red seating, content to let Akira do the work. Which he’s happy to oblige by.
His own shirt is easy enough to throw back on, but the towels take a bit longer. He could have sworn he left some in the cabinet below the window.
“Did you mean it?”
Akira pauses. What does Goro mean? Shit, what if he does think Akira only said he loves him in the heat of the moment? It’s not like it’s the first time he’s ever said it though, how could he think Akira doesn’t mean it?
He swallows and continues his search, hoping his voice doesn’t betray his sudden nervousness, “Mean what?”
The sound of Goro sitting up behind him sets him on edge and the feeling of his favorite eyes in the world pierces into his back. He pretends to move some of the junk and cleaning supplies around, but he knows the towels must be long gone.
“What you said earlier,” he responds with a certain edge to his voice that Akira can’t quite place. “About wanting to visit your hometown with me.”
A wave of relief washes over him. One that melts into an aching fondness at the sincerity in Goro’s voice, tinged with his own nerves that Akira recognizes now.
He’s not saying it outright, but he wants to go with Akira.
Akira shuts the cabinet and stands back up to lean against the counter, his posture as terrible as usual as he faces Goro. He drums a finger against the surface. “Kinda? I’ve thought about it before, but I wasn’t lying about how much the place sucks. There’s nothing there.”
“I can hardly believe any place that produced you is ordinary.”
Akira smirks at him, “That a compliment or an insult?”
He matches the wicked look on Akira's face and rests against the seating. “Which do you think, Joker?” Goro looks up at one of the overhead cabinets pointedly, “Towels are in there, by the way.”
The topic is dropped when Akira turns around and reaches for the handle, but he tucks away the knowledge in the back of his mind.
It could be fun, he thinks, if Goro’s there with him. Maybe he can show him where Shido’s drunk ass fell to the floor. Or they can spend an afternoon at the riverbank; Akira teaching him how to fish and wooing his boyfriend with his own impressive angling.
Then he’d take him up to his favorite overlook of the town at night to watch the stars. He’d point out all the constellations he knows, only for Goro to do the same and plunge them into a race to outwit the other. They’d shut up when one of them presses their lips together, the lines and dots of celestial light forgotten as they taste each other.
Akira finds the towels where Goro directed him, most likely moved by the bastard just to fuck with him. He wipes himself off just enough to comfortably tuck his dick back into place and fix up his underwear and pants. Which leaves his waiting boyfriend at the center of his undivided attention. He needs more focus, after all.
After tossing Goro another towel, a quick glance around the RV leaves him stumped. Did Goro hide everything before Akira came in the camper?
His brows knit together in suspicion. “Where’d you leave your bags?”
“Hm?” Goro’s face is one of utter innocence, brilliantly delivered with natural charm. It’s unsettling and yet, impressive. Were he just about anyone else, Akira may have actually believed it. After a deliberate pause, Goro waves him off as he cleans himself of cum and sweat, “Just give me something of yours.”
Despite his nonchalance, Akira’s not fooled. And Goro most definitely knows it. They both see through the ulterior motive, and they simply don’t care if it means he gets to wear one of Akira’s shirts.
Akira finds at least his stuff untouched and conveniently left behind. But now he’s left with the critical decision of which shirt to give his boyfriend.
It’s something he faces almost periodically, another game of theirs that’s left him short of some of his favorite shirts and tees. Even his sweaters aren’t safe. Not when his boyfriend is a damn thief.
Said thief who still has the gall to make a request of his keepsake, “A clean one, please. There’s enough of your sweat on me already.”
Akira considers one of his oversized tees that he pretty much owns just to watch how they drape over Goro’s body whenever he steals them. But it’s hardly suitable for wearing out. So not that one…
And despite the fact that all his shirts are clean, Akira’s never above some playful teasing. He looks up from his bag and smirks, “You can admit you like it, you know~”
“Tch,” Goro scoffs, and yet his dazzling red eyes glint with amusement. “Not everyone grew up in whatever godforsaken weather your town has. No wonder you’re used to this shit.”
He shakes his head minutely and looks back down at the clothes. Akira mumbles, but it’s easy enough to hear in the relative silence of the RV, “Not really my town anymore.”
There’s a breath of still quietness.
But before it gets to Akira’s head, Goro’s voice clips through it like a balm. “Good,” he affirms. “They don’t deserve you.”
Fuck, I love you, he thinks. He hopes one day he’ll be able to say it every time the thought comes to him.
“Sap.” What? Oh, crap. Had he—? “Just hand me that one at the top, Akira.”
He blinks at the shirt dumbly, his brain working to catch up after his slip up. It’s a plain cream color, one that would suit Goro perfectly. Akira won’t even miss it, he can always buy another simple black shirt to make up for it anyway.
And more importantly, he’s clearly doing something right if Goro’s taking the words so well for the, what, third time today? Fourth? Fifth? It’s hard to keep count when he thinks it so often.
He wonders if the words ever flit across Goro’s thoughts in return.
He thinks they might.
Akira grabs the shirt, some jeans, and a pair of his extra briefs, then promptly stands up and hands them to his seated boyfriend. His steel eyes run along the top of Goro’s bare thighs as he savors the last look of them for the day. Unless he actually books them a hotel, which sounds all too appealing.
He sighs mournfully as Goro peels the dirty panties down his legs, “Kinda sad to see those go. They’re fucking hot.”
Goro throws them towards Akira’s chest, just barely giving him the chance to catch it before it stains his shirt too. Whether it’s an act of revenge for throwing the lube at him or simply his own memento of the day, Akira doesn’t know. Nor does it really matter as he tucks it away with the rest of his belongings.
His boyfriend speaks up as he pulls Akira’s jeans up and over his borrowed underwear, “That so? Then how come you didn’t even try getting another picture in?”
Akira walks over and helps him take off his shirt to replace it with Akira’s as he explains, “I left my phone with Ryuji.” Goro raises an eyebrow at him. Akira attempts to smooth the shirt down and smiles, “Sophie wanted to see the city some more. Or watch a movie, I think. And someone needed my urgent attention.”
Goro grabs Akira by his collar and glares at him, “Dick.”
“Yup,” Akira says with a pop. “It’s a pretty heavy weight to bear,” he grinds against Goro and gives him an idea of just how heavy he means, “but what kinda boyfriend would I be if I didn’t rail you whenever you ask?”
Goro glances down and barks out a laugh, “You’re fucking unbelievable.” He tucks a lock of honey brown hair behind his ear and lowers himself to his knees. Gray eyes follow his movement and Akira swears he falls in love again when his fly is expertly undone. Goro’s words feign disbelief, but his voice betrays his fond eagerness, “I’m only blowing you once and then we’re getting the fuck out of this thing. Do not get any in my hair.”
Akira means to tell him that it’s fine. That his revitalized boner will go down after a while. That he doesn’t need to cum more than they need to get back on the mission.
But then a familiar hot, wet mouth and tongue is around him. And with just a few licks and sucks, Akira forgets all about it as his hands find his boyfriend’s perfect, soft hair.
He forgets about the Jails and the Metaverse, about Konoe, the police, and everything that exists outside of the small camper. Everything that isn’t Goro.
Akira still feels the sweat and heat around him from the lack of air conditioning, but it’s nothing compared to the dizzying pleasure he feels. And besides, those types of things were pretty much a given during the summer months, so it’s a price he’s more than happy to pay.
Because Akira still loves summer even despite the sun beating down on them and the sweat prickling at his skin. The warm weather isn’t a reminder of cold winter nights, ones when just a simple exhale would leave a puff of breath visible in the air.
Like the one that early February night, when his pleading that Goro’s life wasn’t trivial felt like nothing more than a puff of air that vanished too soon.
And even though the return of the Metaverse isn’t exactly the best thing in the world, it’s at least given them something close enough to a vacation. Akira just hopes he’s helped Goro have enough reason to enjoy the season as much as he does.
Whether he has or not, there’s always next summer to impress him some more.