Work Text:
As soon as Morgana is out of the door, Goro speaks up.
"We’re taking the deal."
The words roll over his tongue like bitter medicine. They sound foreign even to himself, especially after weeks of being committed to the opposite. Static noise against his already ringing ears. Bangs against a door that will never open. If Goro didn't know any better, he might have not articulated them at all.
Akira looks genuinely confused from where he sat with Maruki just a minute prior, the crease between his eyebrows betraying his otherwise impassive expression.
"Sorry?"
“I said,” Goro says, practically spitting the words out because the only thing he hates more than Maruki is himself, “we’re taking the goddamn deal.”
Even from the corner of his eyes, the hesitant smile that unfolds on Akira's face is by far the most artificial thing Goro’s seen from him. More plastic than that of a doll’s. Or his own. Goro considers risking more than a vague glance into his direction but thinks better of it and stays silent, face averted.
Leblanc’s door truly is of a marvellous colour.
“This is an incredibly bad joke, Akechi.”
“Because it isn't.”
“...doesn’t sound like that to me,” Akira says, voice declining from confused to winter cold.
It sounds disconnected from his body, like he’s reciting a book that neither concerns nor interests him but spent hours learning anyway. Goro digs his fingers into his forearms, wishing he could feel something through his thick coat. Anything that isn’t a variety of boiling emotions just waiting for the opportunity to burst open and overwhelm him.
He hears Akira standing up. “You’re actually serious. We fought over this in Mementos."
Akira found out about it a week ago. He'd always been too observant for his own good. Seeing what people never wanted to be perceived. He's usually subtle about it, never utilising his knowledge as a weapon like so many others would have, but the single word he sent Goro per text brooked no argument.
Perhaps Goro was just never strong enough, lacking the resolve to truly push him away like he should have. The contrived exuberance of Maruki’s world are as much of a reminder as they practically shove the blank and empty walls of his apartment into his face that Goro can't not latch onto whatever Akira would give him so he doesn't lose himself, no matter how small it was—a behaviour that already manifested towards the end of this year and tried its hardest to spread its wings in this reality, courtesy of Maruki.
Akira is both his Styx and his Achilles' heel.
But he didn’t fold before, so he wouldn’t now either.
“The circumstances are different,” Goro vaguely explains. He's mindful to keep his eyes averted still, not acknowledging Akira past the sound of his voice, afraid that one proper look at him would have his facade crumbling to dust.
“Don’t give me that bullshit. You won time after time yet continued demanding rematches just so I could get it through my thick skull. You literally tore a promise out of me with your bare hands,” Akira’s voice shakes with all the things he doesn't say, "made sure I didn't think about anything else. And now you’re telling me this?”
Vast amounts of unease curls within Goro. He shifts on the spot, redistributes his weight from one leg to another, examines a lighter spot sitting at the base of his glove. "I took things into consideration that we previously missed.”
A hand grabs his collar, forcing them close. Despite himself, Goro marvels at the intensity of Akira’s eyes even behind his glasses—always bleeding, always waging wars when no one was there to look.
He's careful to not let his gaze wander any higher or lower.
“Stop it, Akira,” Goro growls, low and effectively dangerous that Akira falters for a brief second.
He shakes it off easily enough, grimness coating his words and the thin line of his pretty mouth in steel the same colour of his eyes.
“We considered every possible aspect, factor and consequence of this world,” Akira says. “I cannot sacrifice the autonomy of billions of lives for a single one, even if it’s the most precious to me. There’s nothing left to discuss." He exhales sharply. "But if you asked me to?”
Akira admits it so casually, like he just didn’t push a thousand ragged splinters through Goro’s body, tearing him open and some more. It's the same reason that nearly made him falter in Mementos.
Goro manages to reach up with shaky fingers, curling it around Akira’s wrist, his own determination mixing with repressed anger rising like the tides.
He licks his lips, smiles blithefully. “Kurusu. Fucking stop it.”
It wouldn’t be Akira if he didn’t keep on pressing, caging him against the counter of Leblanc but trapping them both.
“I would think about it, Akechi,” he whispers, reverently. “Throwing an entire world away for a fraction of you. I would consider the deal if that is something you truly wanted." His eyes narrow. “But you obviously never did. You made sure to let me know that, too. At least until now. So tell me what the hell is going on with you.”
Goro can’t recall a time he’s seen Akira like this. Sad maybe, repressed, frustrated, hurting, but never truly angry, never like this, with—
Something brushes against his leg.
Goro’s control breaks at that exact moment.
His hand slithers up Akira’s arm, and now he's the one to yank at his collar until they’re even closer than before, neither of them letting go.
Lips brushing the subtle curve of Akira’s ear, he leans forward to venomously hiss, "I told you to stop moving your fucking tail already!"
Akira recoils like he was struck and Goro lets him. He looks dumb with his mouth open like that, standing in the middle of Leblanc like he truly forgot himself. Goro usually never misses an opportunity to make fun of him, but he's unfortunately focused on the more important task of calming the fuck down and regaining the control he’d been scrambling for since entering Leblanc and seeing Akira.
Something which he just broke in a matter of seconds simply by existing.
"What did you just say?" Akira chokes out. “My tail?”
"It is distracting," Goro murmurs, crossing his arms and eyeing one of the two reasons responsible for his current predicament. It’s playfully swishing from side to side behind Akira's back, utterly unmissable.
Incredibly distracting, Goro internally corrects.
Life changing, he’d dare say.
"Why are you—” Akira blinks, arms falling to hang limp by his sides, the heat of his words once more tinged with confusion. “Why are you distracted by my—this tail when we are literally discussing the fate of the world," he presses out, tail swishing around more agitated than before, drawing all kinds of funny little invisible shapes.
Goro uncrosses his arms only to cross them again right after. "Pardon me for not being used to seeing a human walking around with cat features.”
"We saw giant green dicks and demons permanently stuck to their floating toilets," Akira says, exasperated. "You’ve been in the Metaverse even longer than I was. And you get distracted by a goddamn cat tail? "
"And a pair of cat ears," Goro corrects, because Akira has to get that right at least.
Both of which are attached to you of all things.
After almost an entire year of knowing each other, Akira seems to have finally realised that Goro is a lost cause because he shakes his head disapprovingly, body deflating, looking more tired than anything else.
"This is ridiculous. Why are we discussing this again?"
Goro makes a vague gesture at him. "Because these aren't trivial," he responds, if a little delayed because Akira’s exotic features are still the only thing his field of vision has been reduced to.
And fuck. Now that he really gave in and looked he can't stop staring, utterly entranced with how Akira's extra pair of ears keeps twitching, back and forth, side to side, as if they're powered by a funky little clockwork or have a mind of their own with a penchant for rebellion.
“Oh, your life is trivial, but this cat stuff isn’t?” Akira hisses, teeth bared, and good lord he has tiny little fangs too, barely noticeable but still there. Goro’s eyes strain with the effort to take in everything at once while not missing a single thing. It’s the first time he wishes he had something like this third eye ability Akira’s been mentioning here and there.
“Hello, earth to Akechi! Are you even listening?"
Akira puts his hands above his head, clearly attempting to reel in the uncontrollable twitching or just block his view in order to get him to focus—even if Goro’s already doing that—but he only needs to drop his gaze a little lower to instead fixate on the black fluffy tail which Akira has about as much control over as his ears.
None.
Goro really can’t pull his eyes away, no matter how much he wants to. His fingers itch with the incredible urge to do something stupid, too.
Like touching. Would Akira even be capable of purring? Goro's inside burn with the inexplicable need to find out.
"I can’t,” is all Goro says. He can’t fucking stop staring and committing the sight of Akira as some sort of catboy to memory so that this mental image will follow him into hell or wherever his death would take him if Akira does end up fighting against Maruki alone.
Because Goro sure as hell won't, not anymore. Not when Akira is like this. After all this time, he thinks he can finally see eye to eye with Maruki’s desire about a perfect reality.
“This is your fault, not mine," Goro adds. If Akira didn't suddenly decide to let this happen to him, things would have gone according to plan.
“My fault?” Akira gasps, trying to catch the tip of his tail to get it under control. Even in his hands it still tries its best to whip around with thinly concealed enthusiasm. “What, do you think I chose to wake up like this today?”
He would have been tempted to say yes if he didn’t recall how Maruki kept looking at him throughout the entirety of their very important conversation earlier, for some reason fully aware what he’s done by randomly giving Akira a pair of cat ears and tails to wake up with.
Goro wants to pull out Maruki’s teeth and shove them down his throat like little tic tacs. He also thinks this is probably the single right decision Maruki ever made in his entire sorry excuse for a life, and for that Goro can give him a little credit.
Akira’s ears flick back. “If anything it’s Maruki’s fault. I don't know why he thought it was a funny idea to do this today of all days, as if he couldn’t have done it any other—" A look of revelation ripples across Akira's face. "You're fucking kidding me."
Goro's sure he’s missing something, perhaps even very important details as to what they are discussing. But he’s more focused on how Akira’s tail shyly curls around his thigh in hypnotising spirals before he suddenly has a face full of flushed, angry kitten.
"Seriously, Akechi?" Bright red, Akira points at his ears and tail, both of which are twitching adorably. Goro’s mouth dries with incomprehensible want. Whatever Akira is doing—or Maruki, for that matter—is working terribly well.
“He offered you control, power, whatever you wanted just so you’d stay in this goddamn reality. All you ever did was making him eat his own words, spitting them right back at his face!! And now you fold because of this?"
“Regrettably,” Goro says, calm and collected.
He's dealing with facts after all.
And since Akira has migrated closer to properly convey his disbelief and the rest of Goro’s functioning braincells managed to catch a flight to Ha-fucking-waii sometime in the past minutes, he’s already reaching around Akira’s back to give that witty tail of his a curious little tug.
He hums when Akira nearly jumps out of his skin, an uncharacteristically high sound resonating between them. The fur seems incredibly soft even through his gloves.
It’s a little disappointing that Akira scrambles to retreat into the furthest corner of Leblanc, but his face is redder than anything Goro’s ever seen on him and he decides that yes, he can very much give up the rest of humanity for this.
"What are you doing?” Akira hisses, completely mortified.
Goro shrugs. “Had to check for myself if they were real.”
“Of course they are! Well, I mean—stop distracting me for fuck’s sake! I will not let you sell your will to Maruki just so you can see me walking around like this!"
A world where he’s forced to play someone’s puppet once more after he fought his whole life for control surely sounds horrendous, but a world without Akira being able to live his life as a half cat sounds significantly worse, in his opinion.
Goro tells him as much. He receives a blank look in return.
"I can… just wear a pair of fake ears and a tail, you know," Akira sighs in defeat. “No need to go this far.”
Goro shakes his head. He doesn't get it. "It wouldn't be the same.”
One of Akira’s ears twitch in irritation. He wonders if he’s somehow able to pet it from across the room but judging by how Akira’s ducking his head next, tail uncurling aggressively, he’d probably not live for long even if he managed to find a way. What a shame.
Akira seems to grow angrier by the second and right, he’s waiting for an explanation. Goro is, too.
"Seeing you like this…,” he tries, satisfies some miniscule incomprehensible dumb monkey part inside of my brain, "Is certainly a first. Like you are truly yourself."
Akira massages the bridge of his nose with an expression that can only be described as being done. “Is that worth giving up the autonomy for almost everyone on this planet?”
“Yes,” Goro curtly says.
Akira stares at him. Goro stares back, only slow blinking when Akira does.
He really is a goddamn cat, even without those extra appendages.
“I cannot convince you, can I?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“How about… touching them?” Akira quietly says, almost stumbling over his words. "My ears and tail, I mean. Would you—If I allowed you to do that, will you think about your choice? Reconsider it?”
Goro thinks about it.
Thinks hard about Akira curled in his lap, all soft and content and purring and letting him pet those fucking amazing ears for as much as he wants.
His fingers twitch already with a newfound mission. He's going to pet the hell out of Akira. Pet and spoil him rotten within the span of a day that he'll be convinced to stay in this stupid reality, too.
“Maybe,” Goro eventually says, smirking when Akira's tail swishes indignantly in lieu of a pout.
He sure as hell won't make any promises.