Work Text:
“Is Yusuke all right?”
Haru’s soft inquiry turned heads toward the boy in question, who lay facedown on Akira’s bed, limbs splayed and head slumped into a pile of pillows, snores faintly audible over the music pumping from the small stereo set on top of a shelf in the room. Goro could see his back rise and fall as he slept, Futaba sitting at the end of the bed with her laptop perched precariously on her knees and her headphones on to drown out the room’s sounds; uninterested in what their little “welcome party” had devolved into, she’d opted to keep watch over Yusuke while she went about her typical business online. Morgana was curled up beside her, intently watching the screen.
“Yeah, I’m sure he is,” Ryuji replied, flapping a dismissive hand at Haru’s question. “He’ll probably get the spins, but that’s no big deal. I made sure to lay him on his stomach, so if he pukes all over himself at least he won’t, like, choke on it and die or nothin’.”
“God, you’re so considerate, Ryuji,” Ann replied drily, taking a sip from the drink in her hand, nose crinkling at its taste.
“What can I say? I’m always lookin’ out for everyone on this team. Hell, I’ll even hold your hair back when you’re puking your guts out later.”
Ann jabbed him good-naturedly with an elbow, eyes rolling at his comment. “I’m not going to be the one puking. I can hold my liquor better than you can.”
“Wanna bet?” Ryuji retorted.
“Bring it, asshole!”
Not for the first time that night, Goro wondered why he’d accepted their invitation to this little… gathering. Granted, the gathering was technically being held in his honor, but it was clear that Ryuji had merely suggested such as a pretense for getting shitfaced.
Though their infiltration of Sae’s Palace had been going well so far, save for a few odd snags, everyone seemed noticeably tired, moreso than usual; the events of the past several months finally catching up to them in such a rush had set them on edge and, coupled with the need to balance Thief work with academic life, the others’ stress level seemed to have hit its max. Goro hadn’t been through it all with them, but he could sympathize.
When Ryuji had approached them Thursday as they gathered at the hideout, an excited grin upon his lips and a determined set to his features, Goro had an inkling suspicion that the look on the boy’s face couldn’t be the result of anything good. When he’d pulled out the paper-bagged bottles of hard liquor from his backpack, those suspicions were confirmed.
“Where did you get that?” Makoto had whispered angrily, as if she were afraid the patrons milling about below them in Leblanc might hear her words and deduce what was happening upstairs.
Ryuji offered a nonchalant shrug and pressed a finger to his lips. “Secret.”
“He got them from Iwai. No doubt,” Akira cut in, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Sorry. Secret’s out. It’s not like you have any other acquaintances above the drinking age who would willingly buy you booze, anyway.”
Ryuji nudged him in the ribs with an elbow, lips tugging downward in a pout. “Whatever. I got plenty’a friends you don’t know about who’d love to buy me shit,” he mumbled.
“Uh-huh,” Akira deadpanned.
“Anyway,” Ann chimed in, walking up to take one of the bottles in her hands and examine it with a fine eye. “What are you doing with all of these?”
“Thought we could have a party! Everyone’s been so tense lately, it’d be fun to unwind. Drink a bit.” Almost as an afterthought, he glanced over at Goro, and continued, “‘sides, we gotta continue the welcome party tradition. Since the Thieves are disbanding after this, why not throw this guy a party before that happens?”
“You do know we’re in the middle of what might be the most important infiltration of our thieving careers, right?” Futaba snorted.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuji huffed. “But why not take a day off and chill? I went through all the trouble of gettin’ this shit for you guys, anyway.”
Makoto shot him a pointed look, arms crossed over her chest. “We’re underage, Ryuji.”
“Nobody will know, Miss Student Council President,” he replied, a mocking tinge to his words. “Anyway, if anyone needs to unwind a bit, it’s you. Lighten up, Makoto. Have a bit of fun for a little while! We only get to be teenagers once.”
Goro was content to stand back and watch the group bicker amongst themselves for a bit as they debated whether or not now was the right time to engage in such festivities. Makoto seemed to be the only one truly against the idea; the reactions of the others ranged from mildly curious to notably interested, and he didn’t get the feeling that anyone else was too averse to the idea of relaxing for a day and drinking a bit. Makoto, after much persuasion, finally relented, succumbing to Ryuji’s pestering and Akira’s assurances that they would be drinking in a safe and controlled environment, and that if anything went wrong, Morgana could at least run to Sojiro’s house, meow persistently at the door, and somehow lead him back to Leblanc to aid them. Ryuji, victorious, pulled the bottles from their paper bags to show the group the three large bottles of shochu he’d gotten from Iwai.
Which had, inevitably, led to their current situation – Saturday night, Yusuke blissfully blacked out on the bed after insisting that he wasn’t a lightweight (false) and promptly chugging his rather full plastic cup of liquor (inane, in Goro’s opinion) and the rest of their group sitting around the table set up in Akira’s attic room, cups filled with shochu and cheap vending machine mixers littering the table. While Goro had so far refrained from drinking much of what Ryuji had poured for him, the others seemed to be pleasantly buzzed – even Makoto, which came as a bit of a surprise.
The budding argument building between Ryuji and Ann dragged Goro out of his reverie, and he leaned his elbow on the table, chin cupped in his palm as he watched the back-and-forth between the two amusedly.
“You know what?” Ryuji huffed, bringing a fist down on the table, “we’re all gonna play a game. That way, we can really learn who’s a fuckin’ lightweight and who ain’t. And then some.”
“Name the game. I’m sure I’ll at least beat you,” Ann retorted. “Maybe not Akira, but..”
“Wait, hold on a second – when did we get dragged into this?” Makoto butted in, gesturing between herself and Goro, Akira, and Haru. “This is between you guys.”
“Aw, come on! It’ll be fun, I promise. ‘Sides, it would suck if Ann and I just sat here and drank ‘til one of us passed out first.” Ryuji glanced around the table, a grin dancing upon his lips. “Let’s liven up the party a little bit.”
“I agree,” Akira said, nodding, hand wrapped resolutely around his cup. “We can think of it as.. team bonding.”
Haru tapped her chin in thought for a moment, then hummed her assent. “If Akira wants to, then I suppose I’ll play as well.”
Five pairs of eyes came to rest on Goro. As wary as he was of what game Ryuji wanted to play, he doubted it would be anything too harmful; besides, he was having fun, so far. It was.. a change to feel so included in something, simply being able to relax and laugh amongst the Thieves. “All right,” he replied, offering a soft smile. “I suppose I’m game.”
“Hell yeah!” Ryuji chirped. “All right, so I was thinkin’ we could play truth or dare. I’m sure everyone here knows the rules?” His question was met with nods from around the table, and Ryuji clapped his hands together, grinning eagerly. “Fuckin’ sweet. For this game, though, you get the option to opt out of whatever someone’s askin’ of you. The catch is that if you wanna do that, you gotta take a drink.”
“And what if nobody.. wants to opt out?” Goro asked, brow quirked.
“Trust me. I got some shit prepared that I’m sure people will wanna drink for instead of doin’. This way, we get to see who can hold their liquor best outta all of us, and who’s got balls of steel.”
“Fair enough.”
Ryuji grabbed one of the shochu bottles by its neck and made sure to refill the cups of those who’d already drank a fair amount. “All right!” he announced when done, setting the bottle back down on the tabletop with a clunk. “Let’s get this party goin’. Who wants to go first?”
“Why don’t you go? This is your idea, after all,” Ann retorted.
“Wouldn’t be fair to start off with my shit. We gotta build up to that.” Ryuji turned to Haru and jerked his chin at her. “Why don’t you go? Pick someone. We’ll go clockwise after that.”
“Oh – I guess I can,” Haru said softly. She pursed her lips and looked around the table for a few moments, hmming in thought. “Makoto.. truth or dare?”
“Um.” Makoto chewed her bottom lip between her teeth, obviously weighing the possible outcomes of each, and finally settled on, “Truth.”
“What was your first kiss like?” Haru chirped. She seemed keen about her question, the edges of her mouth curved upward in a small smile; Goro got the impression that she enjoyed talking about this sort of subject.
“I…” Makoto trailed off, arms folding over her chest. She stared at her plastic cup contemplatively, face impassive. “I think I’ll drink.”
“Wh– really? Damn, didn’t think you’d go down that easy,” Ryuji exclaimed, the ever-present grin on his face widening.
“I like the taste,” she mumbled, face reddening. Goro mentally rolled his eyes – the lie was easy enough to see through, but he didn’t fault her for wanting to escape from any potential discussion about her love life, or lack of. As Ryuji egged her on, Makoto grabbed her cup and took a surprisingly long drink, her face contorting at its sour taste. He had to commend her – out of their entire group, she was the only one brave enough to drink anything without a mixer to soften the blow of the taste. She really did, as Ryuji had so eloquently phrased it, have balls of steel.
She set her cup back down and wiped her mouth with the back of a hand, mumbling, “My turn.” Without a moment’s hesitation, she turned to Ryuji, and huffed, “Truth or dare?”
“Aw, yeah. My time to shine. Dare,” he replied resolutely.
“Take two shots and do a cartwheel.”
“You wanna get me fucked up, don’t you?”
Makoto shrugged. “You did say this is essentially a contest to see who is and isn’t a lightweight. I’m only trying to win.”
“Whatever. This’ll be easy.” Ryuji snagged one of the shot glasses they’d been using to measure out drinks and filled it with shochu, easily downing both shots in quick succession. His chair scratched against the attic floorboards as he shoved it back and stood up, raising both arms with a wild grin. “Watch this!”
He proceeded to do one of the most pathetic cartwheels Goro had ever seen; it was little more than a glorified jump with his hands on the ground, and he landed awkwardly enough that he almost went tumbling to the floor ass-first. Goro stifled a laugh with the back of his hand, and glanced over at Akira to find the other boy looking back at him, a matching expression of mirth on his face.
“God, that was pathetic,” Akira murmured, a hand cupped around his mouth so Ryuji wouldn’t hear as he made his way back to his seat.
“I’m sure I could do better, and I’ve never done a cartwheel in my life,” Goro replied.
Akira snorted, a grin blossoming upon his face. “Really? Should I dare you to do one when it’s my turn, then?”
“If you’re so inclined. I’m sure you can think up something better for me to do, though.”
“Mm. There are plenty of things I’d love for you to do.”
Goro could feel his face flush, and prayed to whatever deity listening in that Akira would merely think it a side effect of the alcohol. The innuendo wasn’t exactly subtle, he thought, lips pursed as they both turned back to the game once Ryuji had settled back in his seat. Still.. Akira was friendly with everyone; Goro doubted he’d meant much by it, as much as he privately wished the other boy had. Pursing his lips, he took a sip of his drink, hoping that perhaps the alcohol could stifle the burgeoning crush on Akira he’d been nursing for a while now, if only for a bit.
“All right,” Ryuji said, turning his devious smile on Ann. Whatever he was planning couldn’t be good, Goro thought, but at least Ryuji didn’t seem to be bent on asking him anything. “Ann. Truth or dare.”
“Dare,” she replied. “I don’t wanna know what kind of perverted questions you’ve got for me.”
Ryuji scoffed, rolling his eyes. “As if I care about your sex life. If you even have one.”
“I–I get plenty of action!” Ann retorted, obviously affronted by Ryuji’s assumption. “Way more than you, you bastard.”
“Oh, really? All right, then. Show me whatever skills you’ve got.” Ryuji bent forward, leaning his elbows on the table as he looked Ann dead-on. “I dare you to make out with Makoto. Thirty seconds. With tongue.”
Makoto gaped at the suggestion, a startled “Excuse me?” filling the momentary silence following his dare.
Ann, however, didn’t seem fazed; poker face on, she stood from her chair and walked over to stand beside Makoto. “Is it really that hard to pull up Pornhub if you want to jerk it to two girls making out?” she asked nonchalantly, brow quirked at Ryuji. “I know your hand is the only action you get, but still – this is a little bit thirsty, even for you.”
From the corner of his eye, Goro saw Akira raise his arm and pretend to cough into his elbow, hiding his shit-eating grin behind it. Goro caught his gaze and did his best to feign nonchalance, the edges of his lips quirking upward in the slightest smile.
Ryuji opened his mouth to retort defensively, but he was cut off by Ann. “Are you okay with this?” she asked Makoto, smiling sweetly down at the other girl. “It’s just for the game. If you’re not, I don’t mind drinking instead!”
The brown-haired girl blinked up at her, lips still parted in surprise. “I’ve – I mean,” she stuttered, frozen for a few moments. Finally, she nodded, a bit of a deflated sag to her shoulders, gaze flicking back and forth between Ann and her cup as if she were contemplating chugging the rest of its contents for a bit of liquid courage. “I guess I am.”
“Perfect!” Ann leaned down, cupping Makoto’s face gently between her hands, thumbs resting on her cheekbones. “Close your eyes,” Goro heard her whisper to the other girl. Makoto did as told, and Ann softly pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss. Makoto leaned into Ann’s lips, and Goro could see her slowly softening, head tilting forward in the other girl’s hands as she let her mouth part. Her arms tentatively clutched at Ann’s arms, and Goro caught a flash of tongue as the kiss deepened, Ann’s hands moving to tangle in Makoto’s hair and tilt her head backward, leading the other girl on as their lips moved against eachother. After the requisite thirty seconds and an obnoxiously loud wolf-whistle from Ryuji, they parted, and Ann brushed a strand of the other girl’s bangs behind her ear, beaming down at her.
“Your lips are really soft,” Ann murmured. Makoto blinked up at her, and said a quiet thanks, her breath still caught.
With a last, lingering brush of her thumb across Makoto’s cheekbone, Ann walked back to her seat, sticking her tongue out at Ryuji. Makoto’s face was a vibrant shade of red – judging by her earlier decision not to answer Haru’s question, he surmised that had been her first kiss. Sharing that special moment with a close friend wasn’t a terrible way to do things, he supposed.
“All right, it’s my turn,” Ann said as she settled back in her seat. Surprisingly, her gaze wasn’t focused on Ryuji – rather, it was turned toward him. Oh, no Goro thought, momentary panic flashing through him.
“Goro! Since you’re the guest of honor at this party, how ‘bout you go? Truth or dare?”
He mentally weighed his options; if he chose truth, she could potentially ask him something he didn’t want disclosed to the group. If he went with dare, though, he could make a fool out of himself in front of several people that would likely never let it go.
The lesser of two evils, he supposed. “I think I’ll have to go with.. dare.”
“Good choice!” Ann replied. She tapped a finger on her chin, eyes raised to the ceiling in momentary thought. Hmming, she grabbed one of the shochu bottles they’d already drank to emptiness, and set it on its side in front of him. “Spin the bottle, and whoever it lands on has to take a body shot off you.”
“Body shot?” he asked. He admittedly wasn’t.. well versed in anything that went on at these sorts of parties. He was hardly at the top of anyone’s invitation list, after all.
“Y’know, you lay down, someone pours a shot on your stomach, and someone else licks it up. There are other ways, but we don't really have the stuff for them. You’ve never heard of that?” she replied.
Goro flushed at the thought of anyone doing that to him. “I–I’m not sure that I have,” he replied, stuttering. “That sounds.. intimate.”
“It’s pretty hot,” Ryuji pitched in, grinning. “‘Specially when someone’s doin’ it off a girl.”
“What would you know about that?” Ann retorted. “You’ve probably never even been to a party where it happened. Hell, you’ve probably never been to a party, period.”
“Hey! I’ve seen it in videos, ‘n stuff,” he huffed sulkily.
“I think you just proved my point,” Ann replied, laughing softly as she poked a bit of fun at him.
“She’s got you there,” Akira chipped in.
“Dude! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Ryuji exclaimed.
Akira shrugged. “The woman speaks the truth.” He smiled breezily at his friend, who met the expression with both middle fingers stuck up.
“Anyway,” Ann said, facing Goro once more, “Back to your dare. You gonna do it, or are you gonna drink?”
“I..” he trailed off, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully. The fact that the bottle had a chance to land on Akira was more than appealing, but it also could potentially pick Ryuji – far less appealing. You only live once, his mind supplied; he snuck a glance at Akira, who was gazing at him, leaning back in his chair with arms crossed over his chest. Goro felt the flush on his cheeks darken, and he quickly nodded, and mumbled, “I’ll do it.”
“All right!” Ann cheered, nudging the bottle forward a bit more. “Time to spin!”
He wrapped a hand around the bottle, twisted his wrist backwards, and spun the bottle as hard as he could. The group watched intently as it circled around and around and around dizzyingly, taking almost a good minute to finally come to a stop. It wobbled a bit between Ryuji and Akira, and Goro tried to force it over to the bespectacled thief with sheer willpower and hope. Finally, at a complete stop, the bottle pointed at Akira.
A devious smile played on the thief’s face as he nodded and stood from his chair, standing up beside him. Goro could feel his breath catch in his throat and his heart jackhammering in his chest, and did his best to maintain a passive façade as he stared up at the other boy and smiled weakly.
Ann cleared a bit of space on the tabletop. “Lay down here and pull your shirt up,” she instructed, grabbing a shochu bottle by its neck and measuring out a shot into their communal shot glass. Goro did as told, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his white shirt so his stomach was exposed. Back flat against the table and legs dangling off, he did his best not to keep staring up at Akira, instead pretending to focus on Ann’s preparations as he calmed himself.
“Not as hot as two girls,” Ryuji commented, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the table beside Goro’s head.
“Oh my god, will you shut up already?” Ann hissed, rolling her eyes in annoyance. She pointedly ignored whatever Ryuji said back at her and glanced over at Akira, holding up the shot glass. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Akira replied. He sidled up to Goro, standing inbetween his slightly-parted legs and leaning down with a hand on either side of his hips. “Hey,” he murmured, offering the detective a smile.
His mouth felt dry, and Goro swallowed, returning the smile and giving Akira a quiet hey in return.
Akira nodded at Ann. “Pour it,” he said, and she complied, tipping the shot over and letting the liquor fall onto Goro’s stomach.
It fell in a smooth, quick line from the hem of his pushed-up shirt to just above the waistband of his pants, the liquid wobbling tensely for a fleeting second before the tension on it gave in, shochu spilling over his body. Most of it pooled in his bellybutton, but he could feel some fall down the planes of his stomach, a few smaller droplets dripping down his sides; the sensation tickled, but it wasn’t unpleasant. He held his breath as Akira lowered himself down, pressing his mouth against Goro’s stomach. The thief’s lips were warm, and Goro felt himself involuntarily shiver as Akira’s tongue pressed flat on his skin, lapping up a small bit of the liquor painfully slow. The sudden feeling of a hand on his hip startled Goro, and his eyes flicked over to see Akira slowly moving a hand up his side, fingers trailing over his skin and catching small drops of shochu that had spilled over from his stomach.
The other boy’s mouth left his skin momentarily, and he brought the liquor-coated digits to his mouth, sucking each one off in slow succession with his eyes trained devilishly on Goro. The detective inhaled, holding his breath and meeting Akira’s eyes, face flushed; just as quickly as his mouth had been pulled off, it returned. Goro let out a stuttered breath as Akira licked a long stripe up the center of his toned stomach, hand pushing the edges of his shirt up to get better access at the alcohol that had pooled in the divot between his ribs. Akira’s thumb slipped beneath the shirt’s hem and brushed against his nipple, and Goro thought it nothing more than an accident, until the other boy pressed pad of his thumb against it, circling until it was hard as he continued to lap up the liquor. Goro’s lips parted, and he held back a moan that was involuntarily building in his throat at the sensation.
Akira’s eyes were still on him, staring up beneath hooded lids as he ran his tongue down Goro’s stomach with the edges of his lips quirked up in that same dastardly grin; Goro wanted nothing more than to kiss it off his lips. God, he wanted a lot more than that, right now.
After what felt like inconceivable ages, Akira’s mouth reached his bellybutton. He dipped his tongue into it first, then curved his lips around it and sucked the liquor out. His hands came to rest at Goro’s hips, holding him gently down to the table as he ran his tongue downward through the light trail of hair that led into Goro’s slacks to lap up the rest of the shochu just above his belt buckle, thumbs toying with the edges of his pants as if threatening to slip down. Goro silently begged him to do so, desperate for more – but Akira simply pulled off him, hands sliding into his own pockets nonchalantly. His tongue – that damned tongue – darted out to lick the excess liquor off his lips, and he grinned down at Goro. Goro prayed that he wasn’t hard in his pants in front of the single gang of teens that had the power to ruin his life if they so chose; he could see the headlines now, hot off whatever press they’d been selling out their stories to – Hard for Justice, Harder for Phantom Thief Leader: Ace Detective Goro Akechi Gets it Up After Body Shot.
“You taste good,” Akira commented airily, sitting back down in his chair and propping his feet up on the table to mirror Ryuji. Ann followed up his words with a whistle, and Goro dragged his eyes from Akira’s face to glance around the table; Haru looked a bit pink in the cheeks, as did Makoto, while Ann and Ryuji didn’t seem fazed – the latter was taking a long draw of liquor from his cup, eyes completely averted from the scene.
“Thanks,” Goro replied after a moment. What the hell was one supposed to say after something like that? I enjoyed that seemed hardly appropriate. He pressed his lips together and crossed his legs, one over the other, staring down at his lap and trying his damndest to ignore Akira’s prying gaze on him.
“Guess it’s my turn, then,” Akira said, cocking his head at Ryuji. “Hey. Truth or dare.”
“What, me again? Makoto just made me do something, like, a few turns ago!”
“Hey, it was your idea to play this game.”
“Fine, fine. Whatever,” Ryuji replied, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t even gotta ask me. Dare.”
“All right. I dare you to wake Yusuke up and give him a lapdance.” Akira raised his brows at Ryuji as if to say bet you won’t.
“Aw, fuck that! No way I’m givin’ that freak anything,” Ryuji exclaimed, shaking his head in the most vehement no homo Goro had ever seen. He grabbed his cup, the edges of it bending inward in his fist. “Bottoms up, asshole.”
––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
An hour and a half and an uncountable number of shots later, they’d imbibed the majority of the alcohol Ryuji had gotten, going through the game with questions and dares that progressively got worse until everyone was holding onto the last scraps of their dignity and simply downing liquor instead. Yusuke was still fast asleep on the bed, Morgana curled up beside him. The rest of their group were strewn about around the attic, making good use of spare pillows and blankets Akira had fished out of a dusty old cupboard, preferring them to sleep over in the attic instead of trying to make their respective ways home while still under the influence. Ryuji slept soundly, drool trailing from the corner of his mouth and pooling on his pillow, blanket pulled tight around him. On a blanket spread over the floor, Ann and Makoto slept side-by-side, sharing a pillow; Goro saw one of Makoto’s arms draped over Ann’s waist, and smiled softly to himself at the sight. Haru and Futaba were the only absentees, the former having called one of her family’s drivers to pick her up and the latter gone home to check on Sojiro and sleep in her own bed.
He and Akira were the only ones still awake. Goro still felt plenty buzzed from the alcohol, but it was beginning to dissipate slowly, aided by the water Akira had given him that he’d been chugging to stave off a potentially terrible hangover. Akira busied himself with picking up emptied mixer bottles and crushed plastic cups, stuffing everything into a trashbag quietly and rearranging the room, scooting the table back to where it belonged and placing the television on top of it once more. He looked up when he noticed Goro’s eyes on him, meeting the detective’s gaze. “Hey,” he murmured, a small smile upon his lips.
“Hey,” Goro replied, gaze softening. “Would you like some help?”
“Nah.” Akira shook his head, tying up the trashbag and setting it aside to be taken out later. “I’m pretty much done, anyway. But thanks for the offer.”
Goro inclined his head and took a sip of his water, gaze flitting around the room. “It looks like everyone had fun.”
“Mm. Did you?”
“It was.. a first for me. But I enjoyed it.” He smiled; it had felt nice to be so included in the group almost immediately. “Thank you.”
“‘Course. You know you’re always welcome around here, right?”
“I – yes,” Goro sighed, hand wrapping around one of his elbows self-consciously. “I hate to impose, though.”
“You’re not imposing at all. I love it when I walk in the door and see you sitting there,” Akira replied, smile meeting his eyes. “It’s always a nice surprise.”
“Really? I suppose I’ll have to stop by more often.”
“Please do. And maybe stay a while instead of immediately leaving whenever I get there, some time?” Akira laughed softly; Goro could tell he didn’t mean anything malicious by the jab.
“I will, I promise,” Goro replied.
“Do you want to come by tomorrow? I can make you some coffee. Sojiro has been helping me out with a new blend, and it would be nice to get an opinion other than his on it.”
Goro hummed in thought, not wanting to seem too desperate to spend time with Akira by immediately replying ‘yes’; he had to maintain some semblance of actually having a life and not being neck-deep in his crush. “I believe I should be able to, yes.”
“Stop by at seven?”
“I’ll be there.”
Akira grinned. “It’s a date, then.”
Goro’s breath caught. “A.. date?”
The other boy seemed to catch his questioning hesitation, and he took a step closer to Goro; they were nearly face-to-face, and Akira’s hands lingered near his. The mood had shifted – Goro couldn’t tell why, but Akira seemed to be exuding an air of tender determination. “Hey,” he murmured, face passive. “Wanna play a game?”
“What game?”
“Truth or dare. Indulge me, just for a second.”
Goro let a breath escape his lips. He canted his head forward in a nod, and Akira’s hands slowly reached out, catching the detective’s in his own, twining their fingers together. “Truth or dare?” he whispered.
Goro could feel the thief’s breath against his skin, and he shivered, murmuring out a soft, “Truth.”
“Do you like me?” Akira asked. His gazed keenly at Goro, fingers tightening as he awaited an answer.
Goro felt his pulse, rapid beneath his skin. The background noises seemed to fade away – Ryuji’s incomprehensibly loud snores, the gentle noises of the others sleeping, the sound of Morgana’s sleepy purrs. All he could hear was his own heartbeat, Akira inhaling and holding his breath in his throat. “Yes,” he breathed out, the word filling the silence.
Akira gave his hands a gentle squeeze, and a smile blossomed over his face, relief and thanks intermixed upon his features. “Your turn.”
“Truth or dare?” Goro asked obediently in return.
Without a second thought, Akira replied, “Dare.”
Goro tightened their intertwined grip, pulling Akira toward him and pressing their chests together, the thief’s breath hot on the skin of his neck. “I dare you to kiss me, Akira Kurusu,” he whispered.
Akira pressed their foreheads together, one hand leaving Goro’s and coming up to card through the brown hair at the back of his neck, tilting his head forward until their foreheads were touching. “You don’t have to dare me to do that,” he replied.
Goro could feel the other boy’s smile as he pressed his lips to the detective’s, the lingering taste of shochu upon a familiar tongue a reminder of the sticky, dried alcohol on the planes of his stomach and soft lips upon his skin.