Letira
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Summary
Every previous competition had been done for the love of the game; Goro had been expecting the duel to be that way, as well, and hadn't bothered to think of anything like a prize. He certainly wasn't expecting what Akira asked for.
Joker always managed to flip his expectations on their head.
(Or: sometimes your crush is going to kill you in eight days, so you might as well shoot your shot while you've got access to the target.)
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It’s then, with those stormy grey eyes seeing right through him, one slender hand slowly caressing down his spine and dipping under the waistband of his dress pants, that Goro realizes he is staring up at Ren from the bottom of the grave he’d dug for himself.
And Ren, gentle, beautiful Ren, puts the final nail in the coffin.
“I love you,” he laughs into their kisses, easily, as if he didn’t have to think about it, as if he wasn’t afraid that one day he’d wake up and understand that Goro had been a mistake.
Time slows to a crawl as Goro’s world tilts on its axis.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he hisses under his breath, paralyzed.
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“I bet I could figure out the buttons. Give me a week and I’ll have you as desperate as... as Purple Shirt. Mark my words, Akechi, it’s about the buttons.”
Goro stops walking. His wide eyes glisten under the streetlights—glossy like the twin buttons on a teddy bear’s face, glossy like the buttons on his crisp linen shirt, glossy like the metaphorical buttons that Akira aches to push. They stand still long enough for a car to rumble past, long enough for Akira’s pulse to skyrocket, for his palms to clam up with sweat that has nothing to do with the heat.
“If it’s only a matter of buttons,” Akechi whispers, “then I could say the same about you. Seduction is just... altering your behavior, tailoring it, putting on a show. Give me a week, Kurusu. I’ll make you the ‘desperate’ one.”
(Or: Goro and Akira make a bet.)
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“So I’m to be bait,” Akechi says flatly. “You’re serving me up.”
Ren can feel the grin on his face, and he can’t stop it. “I gotta open the store tomorrow, I only serve coffee.”
“Absolutely idiotic. Why would I agree to that?"
Ren shrugs one shoulder and leans back against the movie theater wall, smiling. He’s feeling light on his feet right now. It’s been a bad day, but the end is nice. “Call it penance.”
“Penance for what,” Akechi says.
His smile stays where it is as he glances away for a moment, then meets Akechi’s eyes again. “Being yourself.”
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Summer vacation back in Tokyo was supposed to be two things: an exciting break from the mundanity of home, and a chance to see people he's missed so much it hurts. If he survives, Ren has good news for himself on both.
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“I’ve always found braids to be quite beautiful,” Yusuke says from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. “The practice dates back thousands of years, you know. If you don’t mind, I’d love to sketch the two of you. The intimacy of carding your hands through another’s hair—"
“Dude, gross,” Ryuji groans, cheeks flushing. “I don’t wanna think about Akira getting intimate. Thanks, but no thanks.”
Goro’s mind turns unbidden to the thought of Akira running his hand through Goro’s hair—a soft, tender motion, filled with passion rather than platonic affection. I wonder if he’s that kind of lover, Goro thinks. Maybe he is. Or maybe he’s the sort of lover who’d grab a fistful of my hair and-
“Calm down, Ryuji, nobody’s getting intimate,” Ann says, already pulling an elastic out of her hair. Get it together, he thinks.
(Or: Akira starts braiding the girls' hair, much to Goro's seething displeasure. Fortunately, Goro just needs to wait his turn.)