Work Text:
Goro sighs into his hands, contemplating whether he has enough energy to even walk to the shitty office coffee machine. He’s been working this case for weeks now, trying to track down a series of paper trails that lead to dead ends and more questions, determined to prove himself to his boss by exposing the crimes of one of Tokyo’s most prominent crime rings. It’s not something he’s particularly fond of, not being able to figure out the case - there are certain elements of justice that stick hard and fast in his heart, and wanting to be the one who gets the recognition for what, Phantom Thieves aside, could be the arrest of the decade is the cherry on top of a cake that he’s not sure he’ll ever get to eat.
And more than that, there’s been talk that the case will get reassigned to one of his superiors, a thirty-something year old man who drags himself into work stinking of last night’s tequila and stale cigarette smoke. Goro doesn’t care at all for him, but he has to admit that he’s good at his job. He normally investigates heists and robberies, whereas Goro’s field of expertise is delving into much more personal - and often deplorable - crimes. He’d never let on to his boss or coworkers that he actually doesn’t mind the group calling themselves the Phantom Thieves; they steal documents and leak them to unbiased media sources that expose the crimes of people in power, and their anonymity means that it’s impossible to pay them off to keep quiet.
He knows this, because his own father was one of their first targets, and he smiles fondly when he remembers how his political career came crashing down almost overnight. It was a taste of freedom that he’d never had before, and it was personal.
So he’d never take on a case that aimed to expose the identities of the Phantom Thieves, because he truly believes that he owes them a life-debt.
That, and that fact that he’s madly in love with their leader.
Yes, he’s known that Akira Kurusu is the leader of the Phantom Thieves for six months now, and he’s been dating him for five of those. There’s something tantalising about their relationship, even though it isn’t the cliché or even conventional rivalry that is dramatised in the books that Akira reads in his downtime. He’s satisfied with the lies he tells to his boss, keeping up the mask that he - ‘esteemed detective and pleasantly well-adjusted public figure’ - disagrees with the Phantom Thieves as much as any law-abiding citizen should.
At first, he’d been terrified that Akira would get caught and arrested, and that he’d be alone again, but if time has taught him one thing, it’s that Akira is wicked-smart and resourceful, and that the simple idea of someone matching him in wit and skill enough to catch him is laughable. And he’s the type of person who fidgets in conversation, bounces his leg, picks padlocks just to keep his hands occupied - if he wasn’t evading the law and reforming society in a beautifully unconventional way, he might just implode out of sheer boredom.
Thinking of his boyfriend puts a small smile on his face, enough to give him the energy boost to walk to the coffee machine. Standing there, waiting for his coffee to brew (he makes a fresh pot every time he needs a cup, because he won’t be satisfied with someone else’s half-baked leftovers), he sees that his boss is approaching him, and he can’t pretend like he hasn’t seen him.
“Akechi,” his boss greets him, curtly but with the necessary air of false politeness afforded to all his employees, “any progress on the case?”
“Yes, sir. I’m pursuing a trail of money exchanges that could potentially lead to the identity of one of the lesser members responsible for the recent string of murders,” he says. The truth is that he’s been doing that for a week now, but he needs to seem like he’s on top of things - he’ll never forgive himself if the case gets taken away from him.
“Just keep on top of things. I was going to reassign your case, but you’ll have to keep working at it - there’s been another Phantom Thieves heist and I can’t afford to take anyone off that investigation to assist you on yours.”
“Understood. I’ll have results by the end of the month, I swear it.”
“I hope you’re as reliable as your words.”
Goro nods, muting his face into something that doesn’t show the eye roll he so desperately wants to perform. He politely excuses himself once his coffee is ready, going back to his desk with a newfound sense of determination to prove himself.
He almost doesn’t realise it when the clock hits 5pm and everyone begins to filter out of the office. A lot of the time, he stays a few extra hours, even if he doesn’t exactly need to - it makes him look hardworking, and a good impression is what he absolutely must maintain for his credibility to be upheld.
Today, though, he’s got other things on his mind. Namely, Akira. The subway ride back to their small apartment is packed, and as much as he wants to seem approachable to any fans of the famed Detective Prince, he just knows that his discomfort is showing slightly on his face. Not enough to scare people away, since he notices a group of girls whispering and giggling in his direction, but just enough for him to shift awkwardly as he stands, thankful that he’s wearing gloves and can have as little contact with strangers as possible.
He doesn’t like being touched by anyone he doesn’t trust. And he only really trusts one person; even that took him a while to be comfortable with. Now, though, he can’t get enough of simple things, like holding Akira’s hand and kissing him softly on the cheek.
Which is exactly what he craves the moment he walks through the door of their apartment, and Akira is more than happy to oblige, perching himself like a cat on the top of the sofa so that he’s at a level higher than Goro, massaging his shoulders and planting playful kisses along his neck.
“How was work, honey?” Akira says.
“More Phantom Thieves business,” Goro plays his game of feigning innocence, and enjoys every second, “that keeps everyone else busy and my case safely assigned to me.”
“Those Phantom Thieves seem to be doing you a world of good.”
“Mm. It’ll be a shame when I eventually have to arrest them.”
“I bet their leader is some mysteriously handsome gentleman who’s impossible to catch,” Akira winks, resting his chin on Goro’s shoulder and loosening his tie for him.
“I don’t know, he seems like kind of an asshole.”
“Is that why you want to catch him, detective?”
“I think he’d look positively adorable when I win his little game of cat-and-mouse. I wonder how well he’ll take defeat?”
“I think he’s the type to kiss you just enough to distract you, before whisking himself away into the night, leaving you with only the sweet memory of a man you’re not sure you want to catch after all.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“But I’m yours,” Akira positively beams at him, jumping off the top of the sofa and walking into the kitchen, tending to the pot of curry that he’s cooking for them both. It smells like home, and he wonders whether Sojiro has yet to entrust the curry-making process to Akira entirely; Goro certainly can’t tell the difference between Akira and Sojiro’s curry when he visits the little café Akira works at during the moments that he’s not moonlighting as Japan’s Most Wanted.
“You know, I did a little research about your heist last night,” Goro says as they sit down to eat.
“You can’t get me off your mind, even at work, huh?”
“Stealing precious gems from museums only to expose them as fakes and implicate the museum managers for pawning off the originals on the black market and getting rich off their exploitation. It’s nice work, if a little convenient timing.”
“Well, you needed to get your boss off your back about your case, right?”
“Most boyfriends would just buy me flowers.”
“You have allergies.”
“Not the point,” Goro laughs, taking a spoonful of the curry - he notices that Akira has made it less spicy this time, “but appreciated nonetheless. I assume you got back after I left for work?”
“I was hoping to kiss you good morning, but you were gone even at seven.”
“I wanted to get in early and get a head start on my work.”
“Still trying to prove yourself?”
“Ah, you see right through me.”
Akira smiles at him fondly, looking at him with eyes that pierce all the way to his soul. It takes all of Goro’s strength not to melt there and then; every time he thinks he’s fallen in love quite enough, thankyouverymuch, Akira only needs to give him one of his blissful, faraway smiles and Goro feels it directly in his heart.
Who says you have to fall in love once only? Goro gets to do it every day.
“Well,” Akira says, softly, like he’s trying not to disturb Goro’s thoughts, “we have all of tonight to make up for it.”
“I always sleep better when I’m sharing the bed with you.”
“That’s because I’m irresistible and you know it.”
“Actually,” Goro laughs, “it’s because you curl up like a cat when you sleep and it’s very warm. Adorable, even.”
“Hey, I’m not adorable. I’m a man of mystery.”
“That mystery being why you purr when you snore?”
“Shut up!”
“Never.”
“I love that about you,” Akira says.
“What, that I never shut up?”
“Just the way you talk. It’s like the whole world should stop and listen.”
“You flatter me.”
“As is my duty as your boyfriend.”
Akira smirks at him and leans over to wipe a little bit of curry sauce off Goro’s cheek, putting his finger on his own tongue; god damn it, he’s too flirtatious for his own good, but there’s such a sense of being wanted in that this side of Akira is for Goro’s eyes only.
“I’m going to get changed,” Akira says, “I’m exhausted.”
“Pyjamas at 6:30pm? What an exciting life you live as a Phantom Thief.”
Still, Goro knows that he’d follow Akira to hell and back if he asked, so he follows him to the bedroom like it’s natural, like god himself is willing his legs to move in the shadow - no, the light - of his boyfriend. He watches Akira take his shirt off, and he should have known there’d be fresh bruises and cuts from his heist last night, but it never comes as less of a shock to him to see him hurt.
“You look like shit,” he says. He knows that expressing genuine care would make Akira feel weak, or he’d worry about upsetting Goro, so it’s best to keep things lighthearted and make sure Akira gets enough rest. And maybe hope that doesn’t go on any more late-night adventures for a week, if he can hold himself down for that long.
“How kind of you to say.”
“Are those from last night?”
“Yeah,” Akira replies, sitting on the edge of the bed with a stupidly lovesick smile on his face, “why, are you going to be my handsome doctor?”
“I didn’t think it was possible for one person to be this irresistibly infuriating. Do they hurt?”
“Not much.”
“Are you going to tell me that you feel fine and that I shouldn’t worry about you going out on more Phantom Thieves business in the next few days?”
“You can read me so well.”
“I suppose asking you to rest is completely out of the question?”
“Not for tonight.”
“So you’re saying you’ll let me take care of you?” Goro is pushing his luck, and he knows it - they both know it. It keeps them alive.
“Only if I’m allowed to make wholly flirtatious comments for the entire duration.”
“I’d expect nothing less,” he says, pulling out the first-aid kit that they keep next to the bed. He’s done this many times, disinfecting wounds and bandaging them up for faster healing, all whilst Akira playfully bites back with his usual cheeky exterior. It only takes him twenty minutes, and then he’s sitting facing Akira, trying to unbutton his shirt before Akira manages to pull him down into bed.
In the end, he only makes it halfway before he thinks ‘fuck it’ and lies down with his shirt half-off, and then Akira is absolutely all over him, kissing his shoulders and wrapping his arms around them like he’s trying to split the atom in getting close to him. Goro likes this. He likes it a lot, the way Akira wordlessly makes him feel special and wanted and cherished.
It feels a lot like safety when he falls asleep. That’s what Akira does to him.
That stupidly beautiful, reckless, over-the-top-dramatic Phantom Thief might just have stolen his heart after all.