Work Text:
“This one or the one from earlier?” Goro asked, brushing a stray lock out of his face with his free hand, while the other held out a hideous red and green button-up shirt.
“Neither,” Akira responded honestly.
“Do you just want me to go naked?” Goro grumbled. “You’ve been saying no to all my choices the entire time.”
Akira couldn’t help the little grin that appeared on his face - Yes, he would like that very much, thank you for offering.
“I just don’t understand what you’re worrying about,” he told Goro instead of the truth he didn’t want to hear. “No matter what you wear, people will be head over heels. They always are.”
“I just want to get it right,” Goro sighed, dropping his shirt on the bed to sit down next to it, shoulders sinking in dejection. “It’s my first proper public appearance in years.”
“Just be yourself, it’s what they want.”
Goro shot him a flat look.
And looked.
And looked.
Until Akira awkwardly played with the fringe of his hair and gave him a crooked smile.
“Okay, well, that was a stupid thing to say, admittedly-”
“You think?”
“You’ll be fine, Goro. Just wear one of your nerdy sweater vests, they love that shit.”
Akira wanted to help, he really did, but he had to be a bit careful about it. Reveal too much and Goro would, inevitably, use his detective brains to deduce that Akira could emphasize with his lovestruck fangirls a little too much.
Plus, considering the contents of tonight’s performance… . Yeah, he lied. He actually didn’t want to help at all.
“They’re not nerdy,” replied Goro, his eyes immediately shooting down to tug at the immaculate wool of his favorite (super nerdy) green one.
“Yes they are and there’s nothing wrong with it,” sighed Akira. “It’s part of what they like about you.”
“I’ve just never done something like this.”
Akira shrugged.
“I think barely anyone has. You’ll do fine.”
“I should’ve never agreed to it,” Goro went on as if he hadn’t heard him. “ ‘No more public appearances’, wasn’t that what I said? No more shows, no more pretending, no more Detective Prince.”
“That’s what you said,” Akira said with a little nod, knowing full well his best friend was in one of his rant moods.
“So what is this? What am I doing? I should just cancel the whole thing!”
“It’s for charity,” Akira reminded him softly.
“Oh, what do I care about charity? I’m an ex-assassin. One who weaseled himself out of going to prison and now works for the bloody government. Who am I trying to fool?”
Akira said nothing. Goro had announced that he would “just cancel” about seven times now, and every single time it had ended the same way. Sure enough, his friend jumped off his bed, walked circles in the little room, groaned and disappeared back into the depths of his closet, digging through more nerdy sweater vests.
“I have to do it.”
Akira nodded softly, unseen, behind him.
Yup, here we go again.
“It’s like they knew. Do you think they knew? Do I radiate poor orphan energy?”
“Yeah, every day when you come into Leblanc, I have to hold back my customers from smothering you with love,” Akira replied dryly.
“Haha,” Goro said, just as dryly. Then: “You don’t even have customers.”
“And you don’t have ‘poor orphan’ energy, come on. It’s just that they happen to collect money for orphanages, and they happened to reach out to you, that’s all.”
“Right,” Goro mumbled. “Because weird strokes of fate never happen to either of us, oh no.”
He pulled out a sweater vest that looked exactly like the one he was wearing now and held it up to his neck, as if to show Akira what it would look like when worn - Akira knew what it would look like. He was pretty sure he’d seen and admired Goro in every damn sweater vest that closet had to offer. It shouldn’t be hot, but it was. In a weird, smart librarian way that he hadn’t known to find guys hot in before he’d met Goro.
“Too much?” Goro asked.
Akira blinked, realizing that he was supposed to notice any kind of difference between these too.
“I’d bid on you,” he said without thinking and then wished he could chew off his own tongue.
Goro’s maroon eyes widened slightly as he looked down thoughtfully.
“Maybe I will wear it, then.”
Akira said nothing, trying to calm his foolishly quickening heartbeat and scolding his treacherous quick tongue.
One of these days, it was going to get him into serious trouble.
“This was a bad idea,” said Goro as he stared at the stage, his fingers nervously fiddling with his gloves. “Maybe we should just-”
In front of him a well-trained wall of Phantom Thieves built quickly and efficiently, not letting Goro escape. He growled at all of them.
“I fucking hate you too.”
“Come on, man,” laughed Ryuji. “It’ll be fun! A room full of girls battling to get your attention! You think they’ll start a cat fight?” He trailed off with a hopeful tone until Ann stepped onto his foot, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Stop being such an idiot for just one night! This is a serious event!”
Goro let out a heavy sigh.
“Sakamoto, I told you a million times. I’m gay.”
“And you’ll tell him a million times more,” Makoto said with a smile. “I don’t think he’s ever listening. Hey, I think Haru is already at our table.”
In the distance, Akira could see Haru wave at them from a round, otherwise empty table, elegantly draped with beautiful tablecloths.
“God, I’m so excited,” Ann said, hands clapping together. “So many big names are going to be here. Mika was going on and on about having gotten an invitation over me, but who’s laughing now, huh?!”
She rushed to the table with Futaba, Yusuke and Ryuji, who were heavily discussing the buffet on their way there.
Sumire turned to the two boys, giving Goro a warm smile. She knew all his tells almost as well as Akira did - and so she was one of the only Phantom Thieves to realize just how nervous he really was. “It’ll be okay, Goro. We’re all here with you.”
“Well, some of us are,” came Morgana’s muffled voice from the inside of Akira’s bag. “I think Yusuke is never really here when there’s food being served and Ryuji’s in an entirely different sphere.”
Goro pinched the bridge of his nose, unseen by the talking cat, then forced himself to a smile.
“Thank you. I appreciate you all coming here. If nothing else, all the bickering distracts me from the terror I feel at the thought of being auctioned off to some insane fangirl.”
Akira took his arm and casually linked it with his, ignoring the way his veins seemed to fill with molten lava the second they touched. Ignored the way his treacherous brain immediately went into imagining what it would feel like if Goro was truly his, instead of being auctioned off to have a Christmas date with someone else.
“Come on, let’s sit down.” His smile was a bit shaky but it was still enough to make Goro smile in return. “You get to have one last meal before you’re becoming the piece of meat.”
When Akira saw Goro standing up on that stage, looking uncomfortable and stiff, the persona of the Detective Prince apparently not coming back to him as swiftly as it used to, he figured that maybe his life had always led up to this one moment.
It was like the rest of the room disappeared. The moderator was talking some long-winded bullshit about having dragged famous, disappeared darling of Tokyo out of his exile and back into the spotlight, but Akira knew the truth.
Goro had missed being up there as much as he had loathed it. He craved the applause of the crowd as much as he hated their attention. The part of his soul that had always felt unwanted was hungrily lapping up all the admiration, while the rest of his very being recoiled at the thought. It was a never-ending tightrope act for Goro that he never could quite find the safe-to-stand middle on. He’d gone black on the public after evading his sentence, thrown everything he had into his work for the governmental department specialized on Metaverse affairs, but something had been missing.
So when he’d started writing his first book, Akira hadn’t been surprised. He’d supported him through it, read page for page several times to talk them through with him afterwards. Goro was great at plot development and mystery, not so great when it came to character interactions.
And when they’d gotten published, and Goro had been on show after show to promote his work, got asked all the questions he hated most - none of which had to do with his books - Akira had supported him too.
“Next time they ask about the Phantom Thieves, just tell them you were one of them. What are they gonna do, not sentence you again?”
But Goro still ended up many sleepless nights in Akira’s apartment, at a loss for what to do, until he’d finally drawn back again. And for a while, it had seemed like the right choice, had given him some space to heal and figure out who he even was when no camera was pointed at him.
And then Akira had caught glimpses of the way the lack of attention had drained him, had sucked all joy from him. Like he was just going through the motions, figuring out how to be a person that didn’t need Japan’s approval to exist.
So yeah, he had nudged Goro a little bit. Had maybe - maybe - asked Ann to mention to Mika that Goro should be part of this event. Had maybe suggested for him to be made part of the program. He knew what was best for Goro better than anyone - sometimes even better than Goro himself. And he’d known this was for the best.
…. Well, they did say that the best laid plans fall apart.
Akira had gotten his karma for being a mastermind behind the scenes promptly and brutally.
Because now he was watching the clueless love of his life being auctioned off to spend Christmas with someone else.
And worst of all, he could feel Futaba’s knowing look resting on him.
Unable to tell her no when she’d begged him to sit next to him (“There’s so many people here!” his ass ), he now couldn’t escape her constant nagging. Damn little sisters and their (correct) intuition.
“You should’ve just told him that you’re into him,” she said.
“I am not into him,” Akira lied.
“So you keep saying, but you also look like someone made you bite into a lemon.”
“That’s great because I happen to love lemons.”
“You look like you’re playing a JRPG and the end boss just told you the man of your dreams is actually just an illusion created to bait you to take a horrible deal that will condemn all of reality.”
Akira just blinked at her and Futaba shrugged.
“Point is, you’re desperately in love with the man. Maruki knew it. And he’s an idiot. Just like you are.”
As if he didn’t know that.
Akira turned his attention pointedly back to the stage, where the moderator was just explaining to the “ladies” in the room that Goro would belong to them for the entirety of Christmas Day. The money would, of course, go to support several orphanages across the country.
He could see the way Goro’s stance changed when the words reminded him yet again of what he was doing this whole thing for. He loved him for that, a little bit. The determined little crease in his eyebrows as he stood a little straighter. The moderator stepped to the side, pointing at Goro and asking for bids and his man, his beautiful, perfect acting genius, whipped out some of his most disarming, shining smiles.
And there he was again, the Detective Prince - revived in the blink of an eye, like he was never gone. Akira suspected it was like riding a bike (and Goro looked really hot doing that too) - you couldn’t kill a part of your soul, no matter how much you despised it.
Unless you had another part to merge it with and a very sharp guillotine.
And people started bidding - Akira never had any doubt that they would. Naked, sweater vests, ugly shirts, it didn’t matter. Goro Akechi, in all his forms, would always be everything to Akira, so why would anyone else be immune to his allure?
Akira watched it as if he was trapped in a nightmare of his own making. A woman in the left corner of the room was holding up her paddle, outbidding whoever outbid her every single time. He noticed that she was wearing a shirt with Goro’s face plastered all over her chest, and the caption “He can be my pillow prince” beneath.
Oh God.
He nudged Ann and pointed out the shirt with a short whisper and she cringed visibly, before sending a sympathizing look back up to Goro, who was doing his best to stay strong.
Akira knew his tells though. He could see the little curl of his fingers as he tried not to clench them into fists. He could see the way his chest moved to draw deeper breaths as he calmed himself. It’d be hilarious, quite frankly, to watch Goro deal with this woman. He’d give him two hours before he tore her apart and left her pieces to celebrate Christmas alone.
But Akira would be the one who had to puzzle Goro back together. And he was tired of watching that soul get a little heavier every time Goro was confronted with the very real complicated history of his public image and how it could bring him joy and misery at the same time.
And Akira really didn’t want that smug-looking, pretty-guy in the last row to win, who kept laughing at the woman when he out-bid her. Everyone else had, by now, checked out of the bidding, the price being driven to high. There were disappointed looks everywhere, mixed with the intrigue of those uninvolved, who watched the two super fans fight for Goro Akechi.
“Okay, that’s it,” whispered Sumire, looking similarly as pained as Akira felt. “Everyone get out their purses, we’re putting all our money together.”
Akira had never loved her more.
No one dared to speak up against Sumire’s commanding tone and within moments, there was a… rather manageable pool of money in the middle of their table, as well as… some gray pigeon feathers.
Akira glanced at Yusuke, who shrugged apologetically.
“I’m afraid I am without money for the rest of the month. But those feathers hold far more value, regardless. They’re flawless, don’t you think?”
Akira sighed, feeling desperation build in the pit of his stomach, and looked back up to the woman. She was still going but he could tell she was getting nervous now. The guy had leaned back on his chair, legs stretched out and a smirk on his face that, with cold chills running down his back, reminded Akira of Shido.
He turned back and looked at Haru.
She stared into her champagne glass, avoiding his gaze.
He kept looking at Haru.
Finally, with a sigh, she pulled up her purse and shook out several hundred thousand yen.
“For the record, you’ll pay me back with curry,” she sighed. “I would’ve loved to see him squirm a little.”
“I can actually pay you back,” Akira smiled, “I’ve got plenty saved up from our Mementos trips. I’m keeping it under my mattress for emergencies.”
“Some fine emergency this is,” Ryuji grumbled, clearly still pissed that Sumire had made him throw in the four thousand yen he’d had on him.
“You don’t have to,” Haru waved him off. “It’s for a good cause, after all. Curry is more than enough.”
Akira gave her a quick smile before he got out the money he’d brought himself and counted. The woman fell silent, the moderator was starting to ask for last bids. Akira nudged Ann to his left while counting and she in turn kicked Ryuji under the table, who jumped.
“Hey, what-? What did I do now? Can’t you just for once-”
With a sigh, Makoto held up her paddle.
“1.530.001,” she stated calmly, buying them some extra time as the man immediately placed a higher bid again.
Akira finished counting. If he hadn’t made any mistakes in his haste, with Haru’s money, they came roughly over three million yen - that was more than double of what they were currently bidding with.
He glanced at Goro, who was now openly staring at their table, a mix of hope and confusion on his face and Akira gave him a little wink as he lifted his own paddle.
“Three million yen.”
There was absolute silence in the entire hall. Everyone, including Goro - the only one Akira had eyes for -, had turned to face Akira in open shock.
“Uhm,” the moderator finally brought out, forgetting to talk into his microphone and quickly raising it to his lips. “Err. Well, if you’re sure- If- I- Very well. That’s three million yen. I barely dare asking but, is anyone bidding more?”
Akira subtly did a half-turn to watch the man in the back, but he was just sitting there with a sour expression on his face, not moving.
“Well that’s three million for one… two…”
Akira turned back to watch Goro, who stared down at him shocked.
“And sold! Now, that’s what I call an expensive date! And… and… with a man? Oh, or did you get it for a sister? A girlfriend who’s a fan, maybe?”
Akira held back a snicker.
(Futaba didn’t.)
“A very big fan,” he finally nodded and even if he couldn’t hear it, he could see Goro’s low groan from the stage perfectly in the way his entire expression darkened in exhaustion at his antics.
Well, joke’s on him, because Akira had bought himself the chance to torture him with them for the entirety of Christmas Eve now.
“Well then, we’ll set it all up after the event, please do approach us then and we’ll safely hand out the needed contact information. Akechi-kun, we thank you very much for your generosity. You may return to your table now.”
Goro nodded stiffly, stepped down the stairs of the stage, waved to some fans here and there who were greeting him, his smile plastered onto his face in a way that had to be painful, and headed straight for Akira.
“Oh, Akechi-kun,” the moderator quickly said, “ you don’t have to-”
“It’s alright,” Goro sighed, sounding absolutely done. “This is my table.”
As it turned out, no one in the hall found all of this half as funny as Akira’s Phantom Thieves. In fact, there were many glares thrown their way by fans who quickly realized that they’d missed a chance to hang out with famous Goro Akechi for someone who got to hang out with him every day.
Unfortunately for them, Akira did not give a single, solitary shit.
The only thing he cared about was the relieved “thank you”, Goro mouthed at him between drinks, when he was sure no one else was looking.
“This is ridiculous, I don’t even do Christmas.”
“You do now. I’m making you.”
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this! They don’t even like me.”
“They like you just fine. You’re the only one Futaba can talk about Featherman with.”
“I killed her mother!”
“Water under the bridge.”
Goro gave him a flat look and Akira nudged him softly with his elbow.
“Hey, don’t stress yourself. I talked to them, they’re fine with it. You talked with them and you know they don’t blame you for what happened. They know the whole story. I’m not letting you spend another Christmas alone, I’m tired of watching you become one with your sofa while everyone is with their loved ones. Phantom Thieves are one big family - and that includes you.”
“This is just because of that stupid auction,” Goro mumbled. “I should’ve never-”
Akira grabbed his arm and squeezed his elbow.
“No, it’s not, you would’ve gotten invited anyway, we’ve been planning this for a while. We just happened to find a way to make you.”
“A lot of things that just happened to happen about this.” Goro gave him that look he knew all too well from all the times they’d been talking about the Phantom Thieves in their early weeks after meeting. The look that let Akira know that he had looked through his nefarious scheme.
Took him long enough.
“Didn’t know it was going to be an auction,” Akira sighed. “And I didn’t plan on saving you until I absolutely had to. The rest was me, yeah, sue me. You needed a push.”
“I could sue you,” Goro said deadly-sweetly, then he deflated a little. “But I won’t. Let’s get this over with before the Sakuras wonder why we keep standing out here, staring in.”
He took a deep breath, bracing himself.
“Oh please, like Futaba doesn’t already know every word we say.”
The door leading into Leblanc opened in front of their noses and a freckled face framed by orange hair poked outside, eyes behind large glasses rolling at them.
“I don’t exactly need any bugs for that, y’know? You’re talking right in front of our salads. Literally!”
She dragged them inside and Akira noticed, with a rush of gratefulness, that she kept dragging Goro behind her to the booth she’d curled up in, already investing him into a lengthy conversation about Featherman. Sojiro was preparing their coffees, laughing.
“I’m glad you’re finally here - before you came, she unloaded all of this on me and I only understand what she’s talking about roughly ten percent of the time.”
Goro looked taken aback, a light blush appearing on his face. Akira knew from experience that he tended to be very good at making it disappear again, some sort of self-control he himself could only dream of, and so he watched that flawless skin pale again quickly, but he had seen it. He had .
And when he caught Goro’s gaze, his eyes were glowing, reminding Akira that every tightrope act had to end somewhere on the other side - they weren’t all that a single person needed to be happy.
Akira slid into the booth, softly kicking his sister under the table.
“Hey, don’t hog him all for yourself.”
“Oh, you want a piece of this?” Futaba asked. “Then get educated, nerd!”
“That’s right,” Goro giggled - giggled! - “I’ve been telling you for ages to watch the show.”
Futaba stuck out her tongue to him and Akira laughed, raising his hands in defeat.
“Alright, alright. But I’ll have you know that I tried and it just… “ He shrunk under their combined glares, quickly interrupting his sentence for a new one. “I don’t know, maybe I need to give it another chance.”
“We’ll watch it together,” Goro said with an eye roll. “I’m sure if I just explain you’ll get it.”
Akira was fairly sure if Goro just explained it, he would literally love any- and everything. He grinned.
Score.
Akira had never seen Goro like this. Sae and Makoto came by to join them later on, because ever since Sae had become friends with Sojiro, he had refused to let her celebrate alone with her sister in their huge, empty home.
Goro had looked genuinely happy to see her when she had walked in through the door, more than Akira had ever seen him admit to with anyone else. He’d even let her hug him and they’d spent half the evening together, talking and joking. Their banter came as easy as Akira’s and Goro’s came, the familiarity between them very easy to grasp.
For the first time since their Phantom Thieves days, Akira finally got why Makoto had been jealous.
“They were kind of close,” Makoto told him in a quiet moment, when she caught him watching them. “Before everything, you know. They’ve worked on rebuilding it. Whenever Goro’s department needs contact with the Tokyo law enforcement, he goes to her and I think she appreciates his trust. She likes him. And to him, she’s-”
“Family,” Akira said quietly. “Yeah. I get it.”
That’s what it was, wasn’t it? Goro was a wilted flower and all Akira had done was water and water and water, forgetting that a flower also needed sunlight to heal.
He stood up, walking up to Goro, caught in the ban of his free, genuine laugh and found himself pulled into him with an arm around his shoulder.
“Akira! You’ve got to hear this story! Tell him, Sae-san! He’ll love it.”
He did love it.
“You seemed to be having a good time,” Akira said when they were sitting outside on the front step, catching some fresh night air and soaking in the quiet, their shoulders close enough to brush sometimes.
Goro gave him a guarded little smile.
“I-” He broke off, shrugging. “Yes.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Akira whispered. “I know.”
He always knew. He knew Goro’s closet, knew his tells, he knew what Goro needed most, he knew his insides inside out. Knew what he wanted to say but couldn’t - “I never had people that wanted me around. I never had a Christmas before. I never had a family.” Goro wouldn’t ever have to tell him. The only thing he didn’t know was that one, large, huge thing he really, really needed to.
Akira drew a deep breath. He’d just have to ask, like an adult. Have the conversation he’d feared for so long. Just get it over with. Any moment now, the words would leave his mouth. Surely he could-
“Though I did come to realize that today wasn’t much of a date,” Goro interrupted his lengthy silence.
Huh?
Akira stared at him, feeling like a deer in headlights, while Goro avoided his gaze, carefully picking imaginary lint off his immaculate cardigan.
“Well, no matter. But I suggest, to get your money’s worth, you take me out properly at another occasion. Three million yen is a lot of money.”
“That- that- that was for the orphanages,” Akira brought out between numb lips.
Goro did look up at him now, something unreadable on his face.
“Ah. I see. Well, in that case… Forget I said anything. I should-”
He moved to get up and Akira, whose brain was finally unfreezing, jumped to his feet first, pushing him back down by his shoulders.
“Nononono, that’s not what I- shit. Sorry, I was just- Goro, I- I mean I would love to-”
But Goro was now evading his grip and standing up anyway. Though, to Akira’s relief, he wasn’t walking away. In fact, he was standing right in his personal space. Very close. Their lashes were almost touching.
Akira's panicked brain realized two things in very fast succession:
1. Goro Akechi had freckles. Of all the things he had known about him, this one had somehow slipped his attention until now. He could see them shine through the make-up in the dim light shining onto them from inside Leblanc. Fuck. That was so goddamn cute.
2. Goro Akechi was smirking. Dangerously so.
“You would love to what?” he breathed and Akira felt the words on his lips, could almost taste them. They tasted like everything he ever wanted, served with a side of sweet poison.
Hifumi had taught Akira to admit defeat when he was well and truly lost.
“I would love to go on a date with you,” he managed to say and watched Goro’s smirk turn into a genuine smile from up close.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? If you behave, I’ll even let you have the one after for free.”
Soft lips brushed his and before Akira could think or stop himself, he leaned in, his arms wrapping around Goro as he pulled him closer, wanted, needed more of these lips and Goro obliged with a little huff. But when he finally properly kissed him, he kissed him just as eagerly, just as desperately and when they finally decided to go back in and say their goodbyes, he pulled Akira in for one more, wrapped his arms around him and refused to let him go for a solid five minutes longer.
“Thank you. For everything. Don’t ever think, even for a minute, that I don’t see all the things you do for me.”
He was talking to his chest, but quite frankly, if it meant that Akira could hold him in his arms forever, his chest was the only body part that needed talking to for the rest of his life.
“Just keep kissing me like this and we’re even,” he laughed and felt Goro shake softly in his arms in laughter, too.
“Now that’s a deal I can live with.”
“Oh, but Ryuji did ask me to tell you that you owe him five thousand yen.”
Goro laughed. “Tell him to suck it up.”
“Right answer. He only paid four thousand.”
They slowly, reluctantly, let go of each other, but Goro quickly linked their hands together, grinning cockily as he looked down at them.
“I always wanted to do that. Never got why people liked it so much, it looked annoying as hell. It’s not, though.”
Akira laughed, squeezing Goro’s hand, while his free one was already on the door. He turned back shortly before pushing it open.
“Hey, Goro?”
“Yes, Akira?”
“Merry Christmas.”
He liked the warm smile on that familiar face. Loved that he was the one making it appear.
“Merry Christmas, Akira.”