Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1:  Aces Wild

An optional rule in Liars Dice which allows the one face to match to that of the current bid.

Goro’s heels clicked loudly as he fought to keep his steps even down the hall.  This act was one he pulled every day – face straight, smile in place, stride measured, and shoulders relaxed – but today he was practically jumping out of his skin at every noise.

The culmination of his plans, and yet just a step to something even larger.

His right glove crinkled in response to his clenched fist – a new replacement for the one he had thrown at Akira just days ago.

He was confident in this plan, but ridiculous anxiety nipped at his heels with every stride.

Nothing has gone awry, this is necessary.  That bastard knows nothing and will continue to know nothing.

Goro, after all, had a perfect poker face.

Just before he reached the elevator down, it opened to reveal Sae Nijima.  Irritation prickled at him; just another obstacle to delay him when he would prefer to speed things along.

“Akechi!?  Why are you here…?”

Script time, he had prepared for this, and his mask was porcelain smooth as always.

“Why do you seem so surprised?”  Pleasant smile firmly affixed, Goro tilted his head slightly to complete the innocent picture.

Sae was clearly displeased.  “I needed my director to step in to get access, and I was directly responsible for this case,” she gritted out with narrowed eyes, “How did you get approval?”

Easy question, time to deflect.  “For the same reason you did.  I am heading up the investigation team, after all.”  Goro looked directly into her eyes, “It’s only natural I’d have the right to interrogate our culprit as well, don’t you think?”  His smile did not slip.

Sae’s eyes went wide, and she gaped at him.  “They assigned you command…!?”

Hook, line, and sinker.

“… That was a joke of course.  I’m merely here to assist with the public security interrogation.”  Goro allowed his smile to turn slightly teasing and modest.  Play it up now that she’s frazzled.

He tilted his head the other way and brought his hand to his chin, playing clueless.  An idea came to him, this could work in his favor.  “I am surprised it’s this far underground though… there aren’t any others incarcerated here, yes?”

Make it obvious, she needs to be just suspicious enough.  Perhaps she can be of use…

Goro could feel the plan forming more solidly, and his smile turned slightly sinister.  “Nobody would ever know if things got a little… violent.”

Sae stiffened and narrowed her eyes again.

That was a good clue to Akira’s current condition – and not an optimistic one – but Goro pushed that aside.  She was getting suspicious now, faster than he had anticipated.  Interesting… perhaps Akira had charmed her, and she was now an ally of the Phantom Thieves.  All the better.

“If I remember correctly,” Sae began, bringing a hand to her briefcase, “didn’t you say there was another culprit besides the Phantom Thieves?”

Oh, Akira most definitely told her.  Clever of them to figure it out.

Keep the ruse going.

He airily shook his head.  “That was but a lie I spread to set them up.”  Now a pinch of mockery so she would hone in.  “Oh, I’m sorry!  I forgot that I had deceived you too Sae-san.”  This part was complicated – the cameras were still active in this area, but he needed to make his intent clear.  “After all, if you wish to trick your enemies, you must first trick your allies.”

“So it was you…”

Goro wanted to strangle her for being so obvious in a hallway littered with surveillance equipment.  While not technically damning, she needed to tread carefully, or she would be taken out by one of Shido’s… messier methods.

“You’re the one who sold out the Phantom Thieves.”  Did Sae almost look mournful!?  Goro could laugh at her audacity.  Too little too late and I’m short on time.

“Is there a problem?”  Goro could tell she wasn’t picking up on his cues perfectly.  She probably still considered him an enemy.  No matter, she could be enlightened later when the rest of the Thieves were.

Sae suddenly reached into her pocket and pulled out a very familiar phone.

“Akechi-kun… does this phone look familiar to you?”

Fuck it, she must be playing along with a plan the Phantom Thieves formed.  Back to Option A.

“Hm?  Excuse me?”  He made sure his voice remained soft and clueless.  He wanted that phone though.

A jolt, and his body felt lighter.

Oh, Akira that is a brilliant plan.  Great minds really do think alike.

Goro had to fight extra hard to keep his mask in place as he discreetly returned them to the real world from his own phone in his pocket.  It was possible Sakura was blocking all feeds and Shido wouldn’t catch his brief dip into the Metaverse, but Goro had not survived this long by ignoring his paranoia.

If Shido asked, he would claim to have outsmarted the Thieves once again.  If not, there was no issue.

Sae was looking at him oddly.  Shit.  He played it off by tilting his head in confusion.  “What is this phone?”  he asked softly.

It seemed he had satisfied Sae, who was back to business immediately.  “It belonged to the leader of the Phantom Thieves.  I believe you’ll need it for your investigation.”

“Ah, thank you Sae-san.  I appreciate it.”  Goro reached out and lightly received the phone from her.

“Well, this is undoubtedly a great accomplishment.  Good luck in there Akechi-kun.”  Sae strode past him.  The door shut behind her, and Goro pulled himself together.  If Shido was watching, he needed to maintain his image.

An equally fake mask of glee slid over his face, and he scoffed viciously.  “Foolish woman.”

He strode forward once more and briskly stepped inside the elevator as it dinged open.  One floor down and the cameras would be off, then he would be home free.

The descent felt like years, and as the door closed behind him, Goro steeled himself.  The guard ahead had to disappear, one way or another, or the whole plan would be blown and Shido would know.  He maintained pace as he approached the only door in the hall.

Carefully, he studied the guard.  Uniform looked newly pressed, no rank signs, and a slight tremble in his hands.  New recruit then, not a part of the conspiracy.  Carefully folding a piece of paper out of his sleeve and into his palm, he stepped forward.

“Excuse me sir.”  He made his voice as high and innocent as he could stand.  The man glanced at him, looking surprised.

“What are you doing down here Akechi-san?”

Oh, a new new recruit.  They tended to respect Goro a concerning amount.

“Ah, I’m here on orders sir, I need to give you this.”  Goro held out the paper – a warning to disappear and an attached plane ticket to get the fuck out of Japan until the new year.

“Wha- I- I don’t understand.”  The man’s face looked pale, and he grabbed it.  His eyes darted from the paper to Goro’s face in confusion.

“It’s quite simple.  I’m giving you an out.  A chance to slip under the radar, or die here.  Our superiors intended your death, and I am granting you mercy instead.  Leave.  Now.”  Goro dropped all polite veneers and let Loki’s ruthlessness rise in him.  He reached into his blazer pocket and barely revealed his gun.

The man paled even further, hands shaking violently now.  He nodded haltingly then stuttered, “Will- my family-”

“They are not targets; you were just convenient.  Get out and do not be seen.”  Goro hissed violently, willing the man to just fucking leave already Jesus Fuck.

Finally, the officer pocketed the ticket and speed-walked towards the emergency exit rather than the main hallway elevator. Well, he had at least one braincell then.

Goro was finally at his goal, and no longer surveilled.  He swiftly unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him just in case.

He knew it would be bad.  Sae had basically confirmed it, but his heart still dropped at the sight of Akira slumped over the table, covered in blood and bruises.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He had to take care of this now before it was too late, and suspicions arose.  Quickly, he dialed his phone and pulled his mask laboriously back into place.

“Shido-san, my job is complete.”

He tuned out Shido’s response – scolding Goro for use of his name.  As if from far away, he heard himself diverting Shido’s attention from the rest of the Thieves, and hung up as quickly as possible.  His voice had clearly alerted Akira who blearily pushed himself up to look at Goro.

“Go-rro…?”

Goro swiftly pocketed his phone and rushed to Akira’s side.  Only, he stopped halfway there from a combination of Akira’s violent flinch and the chime of his shoe hitting something on the floor.  He looked down and-

Those bastards… I’m going to kill them, I’ll rend them limb from limb!

Truth serum was a goddamn fallacy only really used to cause pain and there were multiple goddamn syringes on the ground.  Goro could feel violence boiling under his skin, but pushed it down for now.

Soon, soon, soon, I’ll get my justice soon.

Goro returned his attention to Akira who looked hazy, confused, and maybe a little frightened.

“Though’… wann… kill me…?”  Akira appeared to be barely clinging to consciousness, and when he shifted his torso, he flinched violently.

Probably broken ribs by the look of it.

Goro took slow steps forward, and eventually crouched by Akira’s side.  He needed to move this along, so the barest explanation would have to do.  “Have you ever heard of lying, Akira?”

Akira rasped out what might have been a snort, “Yea… you… all th’ time.”

Goro felt a real grin crawl up his face, crooked and sarcastic and messy.  “Well Akira, since you noticed, I do happen to love lying.  Especially to my enemies.”

Unlike Sae earlier, Akira immediately seemed to realize Goro’s intent.  Goro could feel satisfaction purring in his chest.  Even drugged and injured, Akira and he still knew each other as always.

“Sh..ido?”

“One of.  But for now, we need to get you out of here.”  Goro began to gently push Akira up so he could assess the best way to carry him.

Akira huffed out a sound of pain, but seemed to be trying to help get himself upright. 

“Sss…Sae?”

“I met her on the way over.  I could tell you did your sappy bullshit.”

Akira sluggishly nodded with a slight grin.  “Phff…one?”

Goro slipped Akira’s phone out of his pocket and handed it over.  “I assume Oracle has secured it to hell and back?”  At Akira’s nod, he continued, “you had best let them know you’re safe before they charge in here like a herd of moronic bulls.  I’m taking you out of here through the Metaverse.  Sae-san returning will only be suspicious.”  Goro could guess at their plan now.  Unfortunately, it would have gotten them all caught if he hadn’t intervened.

Akira texted something slowly to Sakura, then hazily looked over at Goro.  “Leblann…”

“Absolutely not.  Tell your idiot squad that Leblanc is a wildly obvious place for the conspiracy to keep under surveillance, especially since they already ransacked it.  I’m taking you to my apartment.”

Akira furrowed his brow at Goro, clearly concerned.

“Boss is fine.  It was just a cheap attempt at intimidation.  They don’t actually have anything on anyone but you.”

Dutifully, Akira returned to sluggishly texting Sakura.  Goro took a moment to pull out his own phone and check the time.  Clean-up was coming in about 30 minutes and both he and Akira needed to be gone.  Goro could say the body was in the Metaverse, but first he needed to get Akira out.

Glancing over at a thud, Goro realized that Akira had dropped his phone and slumped back in the chair again, breathing unevenly (but not wetly, so no punctured lungs, thank god).  Goro grabbed the phone off the table and pocketed it again, simultaneously using his own to bring them into the Metaverse.  Akira’s back seemed to have sustained the least damage, so Goro scooped him up in a bridal carry.

“Mmmf.”

“It’s going to be a bit of a walk, but we need to be out of surveillance range before we leave the Metaverse.”  Goro kicked his way out the door and quickly made his way towards the elevator.  He couldn’t depend on the accuracy of Sae’s recreation of the emergency exit route within her palace.

“Go-ro.”

“Yes?”  The elevator dinged open and Goro stepped inside.  Akira had basically melted into him and was nuzzling at his neck.  Goro determinedly ignored his own reaction, reminding himself that it was probably just the drugs.

“Go-ro…”

“Spit it out, already.”

“Than… you…”

“Ugh, don’t thank me, it’s stupid.”  Despite himself Goro’s cheeks began to heat up.  That he could feel Akira smile loopily against his neck wasn’t helping at all.

“Thhann…..”

“Don’t go to sleep either, I’m fairly certain you’re concussed.”

“Mmmfffff.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Raise Bid

A term used in Liar’s Dice when a player ups either the face value or number of dice in a bid.

By the time they finally reached Goro’s apartment, Akira felt about two seconds away from passing out.

His leg ached where they had stomped on it, his ribs throbbed sharply, and his head was reeling from getting hit around – and probably from the drugs.  He could feel other aches and bruises begging for attention, and every motion felt like it jolted all of them.

Whining slightly, he buried himself further into Goro’s shoulder, luxuriating in the warmth.

“Akira, I need to reach my keys.  I’m going to set you down for a moment.”

Akira nodded his assent, trying to gently lower his legs to the ground.  Dizziness nearly overwhelmed him, and he tipped to the side.  Pain ricocheted up his bad leg when he tried to unbend it.

“Urk!”

Goro immediately reached out and pulled Akira upright with one arm, moving his weight off of his leg.  “Hold on, almost done.”

Akira was abruptly struck by the idea that Goro could manhandle him one-handed.

Oh, this is so not the time for that.  I am blaming the drugs and never thinking about this again.

With a click the door swung open, and Goro swept Akira back into his arms.  They entered and he kicked the door closed behind them, pausing momentarily to take both of their shoes off.

“First of all, you need to get clean before something gets infected.  I’ll draw you a bath.”

A hot bath sounded heavenly.  Akira buried himself in Goro’s neck again as he was carried to where the bathroom presumably was.

Another door clicked open, and Goro lowered Akira down to sit on the tile floor.  Ugh, cold.  He must have made a noise of complaint because Goro snorted at him.  Lolling his head against the side of the bathtub, Akira smiled loopily at Goro fiddling with the water.  Not even turning around, Goro scoffed, “Wipe that dumbass expression off your face and take your shirt off you moron.”

Akira easily slid his blazer onto the floor, and moved to his turtleneck.  He tried to pull it off, but winced when he could barely raise his arms.  “Go..ro, can’n…”  It seemed like such a stupid thing to ask for help with, but Goro had already seen him at his worst.  They never wore masks around each other.

Leaving the bath to fill, Goro settled down in front of Akira.  “Your ribs must be in pretty bad shape.  Here, allow me.”

Goro’s gentle touch nearly had Akira melting into the floor, it felt so lovely.  He tried to help Goro move his arms through his sleeves, but had to give up on pulling the turtleneck over his head.

When it finally flopped to the floor – stained with red and brown – Akira tried to meet Goro’s gaze, only to find it murderous.  Goro looked like he could legitimately rend something limb from limb from his raw fury.

Almost hesitantly, Goro reached out again, gentleness at odds with his expression.  “When I’m through with them, they’ll burn.”  He snarled.

Feeling extremely touched, Akira smiled and weakly grabbed at Goro’s hand.  “I’m…kay.  Thann… you.”

Goro quickly looked away, ears pink.  “I told you to stop thanking me.  You should be more wary of people who betray you, dumbass” he grumbled, turning around to shut off the faucet.

Akira felt endlessly charmed.  Admittedly, he probably should be taking more precautions, but he was so tired.  And drugged, but that was beside the point. 

The warm bath became too tempting, and Akira began to struggle out of his pants and underwear.  He freed his mobile leg first, but had some trouble extracting his bruised one.  Every brush sparked pain all the way up to his hip and down to his knee.  He almost didn’t want to see the resulting bruise, but eventually he got everything off including his socks.

Ouch, that looked awful.  The bruise was actually a bit red at the edges, so it must still be bleeding outward from broken veins.

Goro finally turned back around, and his gaze hardened again when he saw Akira’s thigh.  “Those fucking bastards,” he hissed, then softened.  “Do you need help into the bath?”

Akira tried to lever himself upright, but quickly realized he couldn’t.  He heard some grumbling, then Goro was gripping his bare thighs and back.  He blushed so violently that he almost didn’t notice Goro’s own red face.  Almost.

Ignore it!  It’s just like at the bathhouse where I was definitely imagining the tension… right?

Finally, Akira was enveloped in hot water, thoroughly distracting him.  It definitely stung his wrists and other abrasions all over his body, but it was heaven for his stiff muscles and aching bruises.  He groaned deep in his chest.

He nearly fell asleep right there, but Goro nudged him.  “Here wash yourself off.  Don’t scrub too much either.”  He said, as if Akira hadn’t spent the past six months getting practice tending wounds.

A bar of soap and a washcloth were pressed into his hands.  Goro was definitely in mother-hen mode which was adorable.  Akira didn’t even know Goro had a mother-hen mode, and rather suspected Goro hadn’t noticed how soft he was being yet.

Gradually, Akira washed himself of most of the grime from the interrogation.  He largely avoided the abrasions, figuring that Goro must have some alcohol or saline solution for those.

As he was finishing up, Akira glanced back over at Goro, realizing that he had spent the time laying out alcohol, bandages, compression wraps, antibacterial ointment, and bruise cream.  Mother-hen indeed.  Akira grinned to himself.

Turning around, Goro caught his eye and looked him over quizzically.  “I know you’re having trouble raising your arms.  I’ll wash your hair.”

There was no room for argument – as if Akira would ever turn down an opportunity to let Goro touch his hair.  He nodded hazily and sunk back into the water, getting his head wet.

Goro’s fingers in his hair were a revelation.  Tingling trails of pleasure ran over his scalp and down his nape, almost lulling him back into a doze.  Even when Goro accidentally scraped past a bruise, Akira was far too relaxed to complain, or even really notice.

Belatedly, Akira realized that he was making a contented sound deep in his chest – basically purring under Goro’s touch.  Well, that’s a bit embarrassing.  He couldn’t seem to bring himself to stop the noise, though.

Far too short a time later, Goro rinsed out Akira’s hair and stopped the petting.  Akira ruthlessly repressed the disappointed whine that wanted to claw its way out of his throat.

“Come on, get up.  The water is filthy.”  Goro had to essentially haul Akira out of the bath.  His legs refused to hold his weight, and the bruise on his thigh was loudly making its presence known.  A towel and a pair of boxers were pressed into Akira’s hands as he was set down on the bathmat this time.

He rushed to dry himself off – although it still took awhile in his groggy state – and clumsily pulled the boxers on.  Glancing back at the tub, he noted that the water was indeed tinted pinkish-gray from the blood and grime.  Damnit that’s probably going to stain.

“Sor-ry…”  tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Goro glanced back at him, then at the tub, seeming to understand Akira’s meaning.  He snorted, “What you think I haven’t bled all over this apartment?  Don’t be a dumbass.”  Goro strode over and pulled the plug, allowing the water to drain.

“I’ll clean it out later, for now you have to sit upright while I work.”  Goro pulled Akira into his arms again and set him on a nearby stool.  Honestly, at this point Akira may have been able to get himself there, but he certainly wasn’t complaining about the extra coddling.

Goro pulled the bottle of alcohol closer, along with several cotton pads.  “First thing’s first, I’m going to disinfect your abrasions.”

Akira nodded, still hazy and warm from his bath, vaguely registering that this was going to sting.  But Goro’s also going to touch me again…

Goro started with the injection marks.  They were messily made, so they still stung a bit from the alcohol, but the sting was satisfying as well – removing the signs of the interrogation from him.  Gradually, Goro worked his way down Akira’s torso, wiping blood from cuts and sterilizing the abrasions around Akira’s wrists, ankles, and along his sides.

His wrists and ankles were especially sore and stinging from the cuffs, but Goro was gentle and efficient, so Akira’s pained hisses were superficial.

By the time they were done, Goro had a small pile of bloody cotton pads at his feet and Akira felt far cleaner and far safer than he had since jumping through the window in Sae’s palace.

Reaching for the antibacterial ointment, Goro continued to soothe and tend Akira’s open wounds. He very carefully covered them in the clear gel – using more cotton pads – making sure that each was clean and cared for.  When Goro was satisfied, he moved onto the bruises.

Reaching for Akira’s bruised thigh, Goro’s hand trembled slightly, and he asked in a lowered voice, “Akira… what…?”

“St-epped on.”  He started, “said… onl’ need… han’s to sign.”  Akira poked at the still-widening edge of the bruise and winced.  Goro immediately reached out and caught his hand.

“I’ll kill them myself, mark my words.”  Goro seemed almost matter of fact as he stroked across Akira’s knuckles.

“Than-ks… don’ need to tho’.”  Perhaps Akira should be a little less charmed by Goro’s penchant for extreme violence.

Goro growled and moved back to putting bruise cream on Akira’s thigh.  “I don’t care.  They’re scum and they deserve it.  I’ll rip their still-beating hearts out.”  He snarled, still at odds with the deliberate care with which he tended the bruise.

Overcome with a wave of affection, Akira reached out clumsily and threaded his fingers through Goro’s hair.  “S…soft.”  Fighting against his rising blush – oh god he was so definitely concussed – Akira couldn’t hide his dizzy smile, or the way his fingers naturally moved to stroke Goro’s head.

Goro’s gaze snapped back to meet him – scowling, and blushing radiantly.  Shit, he’s so cute.

“You are so concussed it’s ridiculous.  Let me finish this before you go spouting nonsense, you buffoon.”  Goro ducked his head again and returned to dabbing cream along Akira’s many, many bruises.

When he reached the one on his cheek, Akira couldn’t hide a wince and a hiss.  Goro scowled again, but gentled his touch even further.

“These,” Goro brushed his fingers over Akira’s bruised and fractured ribs, “need to be wrapped.  I’ll leave the compression wraps to Takemi, but at the very least they need to be stabilized.”  He eyed Akira with a knowing look, “That means no Metaverse excursions while these heal, by the way.  Quell your hero-complex for at least fourteen days.”

Akira nodded, but he got the feeling he was going to break that rule.  However, he was also sure that Goro himself had broken that rule in the past.  Hypocrite.

Goro definitely knew him too well, because he rolled his eyes and muttered “Moron.” As he retrieved the bandages.

Wrapping his torso was a little painful, but Akira was still reveling in Goro’s touch, which dulled it.  The stability definitely helped, and even straightened out some of his habitual (and exhaustion-caused) hunch.

Looking satisfied, Goro moved onto wrapping his wrists and ankles in more bandages.  Having something back around them – binding them – made an uncomfortable feeling arise in Akira’s gut, but he pushed it down.  The bandages might be pressed against his skin, but they were soft and pliable where the cuffs had been hard and biting.

Goro, again, noticed his discomfort despite his efforts.  “Here, roll your wrists and shake them out a bit to make sure the bandages aren’t cutting off circulation.  Ankles too.”

Akira did as requested, and realized that it was a motion he couldn’t have made while cuffed.  He sighed with relief as the déjà vu faded a bit and mumbled out, “Good… than’s.”

“Stop thanking me, dumbass.  You might be afflicted with brainless sentimentality, but don’t try to give it to me.”

He loved Goro like this.

Oh.

Oh.

Hmm…

Yeah, he was standing by that thought.  He definitely loved Goro with all his masks off and his prickly personality on full display.  He loved Goro riled up from competition, Goro nimbly murdering shadows, Goro hiding behind his perfect mask, Goro being passive aggressive, even Goro attacking him relentlessly just a few days ago.

He loved all of it, and he couldn’t believe it took him this long to really think about it and realize.

He was in love with Goro Akechi.

Oblivious to Akira’s train of thought, Goro continued adding bandages and gauze patches to Akira’s many wounds.  His fingers returned to Akira’s hair to wrap some of the impact wounds on his head, and he even added extra padding and support to protect his thigh.  As Goro taped the final piece of gauze to Akira’s cheek –

“Love… you.”

Shit.

They both sat frozen.  Goro kneeling in front of Akira, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.  Akira sitting with one hand partially extended and a blush staining his face again.

Very slowly, like he was approaching a feral cat, Akira continued reaching out towards Goro’s face.

He made contact and gently cradled Goro’s cheek, ignoring how his hand shook from the effort.

“What.”

All at once, Goro unfroze.  He leaned forward, making stubborn eye contact and clutching at Akira’s shoulder.

“What!?”  His voice was rising in volume.

Akira’s blush deepened further.

“Love you.”

Now that he had blurted it out, he certainly wasn’t going to take it back.  It was almost like one of their challenges: could he get Goro to earnestly share his emotions?  Dizzily, he considered the option that Goro might just dump him at Leblanc and never show up again.

“You’re concussed.”

Was he trying find excuses not to respond?  Akira could work with that.

“Yess… not ‘bout this tho.”

“You’re lying.  No way you’re this stupid.”

“Am… I?”  Akira tried for a grin, letting his fondness show in his expression.

Goro’s face twisted in disbelief as he very clearly read his answer all over Akira’s everything.  “Oh my god, you are this stupid.”

Akira laughed, affection and love tangling together in his chest.  He almost didn’t feel the pain from his ribs.

“You know me.  You know me and what I’ve done.  What the hell are you playing at!?”

“Still… love you.”

“Not when your concussion fades you won’t.”  He had already brought that up before.  Was Goro… grasping for excuses?

“H’ve… for ‘while.”  Goro hadn’t shoved him off yet, so Akira allowed his thumb to gently stroke Goro’s cheekbone. 

“Be… u’iful.”  Ah, whoops.

A blush erupted over Goro’s face, and he scowled, but still didn’t shove Akira away.  “What the actual fuck, Kurusu.”

Akira desperately wanted to tease him about using last names as a defense mechanism, but he was feeling more and more drowsy and had to use his words sparingly.  He wasn’t passing out yet, no way.

“Do… you?”

“What.”

“Acsss… accept?”

“No, absolutely not.”  Except, instead of firm, now Goro looked devastated.

“Wh…y?”  If Goro earnestly didn’t like him back, Akira could live with it.  But if Goro just had the fifteen guilt complexes that Akira suspected…

“You don’t want me.  You’ll regret this in the morning, and we’ll go back to hating each other.  I’ve killed people, Akira!  Did you suddenly forget that!?”

Goro seemed sad and lonely – desperately clinging to something.  Akira wanted to gently unclench those fingers and catch him when he fell.

“I know.  Do… acss-accept?”

Fury clouded Goro’s eyes.  Another defense mechanism, Akira must really be chipping away at him.

“I’ll kill you!  I’ll destroy you and all those you hold dear, don’t think I won’t!”

Akira reeled him in a little closer. “Won’t,” he smiled painfully, and pointed at his bandaged self, “you… don’ wan…to.”

Proven wrong, Goro opened and closed his mouth furiously.  Then, something shifted, and he lunged forward.

Their lips met with bruising force, and for all that it hurt, Akira was overjoyed, humming happily against Goro.  But also, ow.  He very gently shifted the kiss, tilting his head to the side and softly leaning forward.  Goro’s lips were perfectly smooth – unsurprising considering how much effort he put into his appearance – and Akira reveled in lightly moving against them.  His own lips were probably chapped to hell, but Goro didn’t seem to be complaining; relaxing almost completely into the kiss and shifting against Akira in turn.

He was sorely tempted to deepen the kiss, but he knew he was far too exhausted, so he only opened his lips a tiny bit.  Nibbling on Goro’s lower lip with excruciating gentleness, Akira caught his tiny, pleased noises and the way he shivered.  Compelled to sink deeper into affection, Akira smiled and hummed, further tilting his head.

Sliding his hand back, he stroked through Goro’s hair slowly.  Eventually, he broke away, but made sure to leave a featherlight brush of his lips against Goro’s nose.

“You… really…hate… to lose.”  He murmured, opening his eyes and meeting Goro’s with a grin.  He was only slightly surprised to find Goro a little teary, and Akira swept his thumbs across his cheeks to catch the droplets.

“God fucking damnit, Akira,” Goro laughed brokenly, “you are infuriating.”

“Tal..ent.”  Akira teased back.

Goro leaned forward and pressed his face to Akira’s neck.  “I hate you.  God, I hate you so much.”

But they could read each other as always and Akira heard what wasn’t said.  He pressed his uninjured cheek to Goro’s hair.

“Love… you too, Goro.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Three:  Tag Team

Two or more players can subtly communicate to each other what dice each of them has by bidding similar or different faces, generally in order to eliminate other opponents.

Goro was still reeling.  He couldn’t seem to stop clutching at Akira, and those goddamn tears tumbled out of his eyes.  Nuzzling further into Akira’s neck, he belatedly realized that his knees were growing numb from being stationary for too long, but couldn’t bring himself to care.

Akira loved him.  Akira loved him.  Why, why, why?

God, and Akira wasn’t sure about Goro’s feelings?  Goro was risking everything he had worked for to keep Akira safe.  He was so obvious about his dumb crush.

Akira knew him, entirely and without reserve.  And yet… he still wanted Goro.

Goro could barely remember the last time he had been wanted – the last time someone had stroked his hair or kissed his face, as Akira was doing right now.  His mother had, but since then he hadn’t even been hugged.

A sob tore itself from his chest and he gritted his teeth to prevent more from escaping.

Vaguely, he heard Akira begin humming something soothing, interspersed with whispers of “love you, Goro… love you al…ways… love you, love you, lo’ you.”  Akira’s voice was scratchy and rapidly losing coherency.

Later.  I can break down about this later.  Later, we have a later.

Goro finally pulled away from Akira’s neck, sitting back on his haunches and wiping his face.  “Come on.”  He forced out roughly, standing up out of Akira’s hold.  He grasped Akira under his arms and helped him up off the stool.

Reaching to the side, he pulled his most comfortable zip-up hoodie off the counter where he had dropped it earlier.  “You need to warm up.”  His voice was definitely wavering, but he ignored it, throwing the jacket around Akira’s shoulders.

Suddenly, Akira wobbled again, so Goro bent down and pulled him back into a bridal carry.

“Sor…ry.”

Goro scowled.  “No apologizing.  Not now, and not ever again.”  Goro had done so much worse than Akira ever could, he should be the one begging for forgiveness (not that he ever would).

I seemed to be kicking a lot of doors open lately.  He mused as he kicked open the bathroom door and smoothly moved to the bedroom, depositing Akira on the bed.  Turning, he opened the dresser and rummaged around.  “Here,” he threw a pair of flannel pajama pants in Akira’s direction, “I’ll help you get the jacket on after.”

After Akira struggled on his pants, Goro gently guided each arm through the jacket, then zipped it closed.  Hopefully, Akira would be able to get it on and off more easily than a t-shirt.

“Lay down.”  He grumbled, carefully pushing Akira to lie on his back.  He tried to step away – despite his body aching for more gentle contact – but Akira reached up and caught his shirtsleeve.

“St-ay.  Please…”

“I’m just changing clothes.”

“Co-old.”  He whined exaggeratedly.

Goro eyed Akira, “You are not subtle.”

Akira eyed him back, pleading gaze in full force.

Goro gave up.  He’d just had a minor breakdown on Akira’s shoulder over a kiss for fuck’s sake, how much worse could this be.  “Fine, we can cuddle.”  Somehow, this was far more embarrassing than having to manhandle a naked Akira earlier.  His face felt aflame.  “I still need to change.”

Akira reluctantly let him go, making a sad whimpering noise.

Godamnit.  Either Akira was utterly pathetic, or he was a master of manipulation.  Probably both.  Goro rushed to change, and padded back to the bed.

“Shift over.”  He grumbled, sliding underneath the covers.

“Mmmfff.”  Akira barely moved, so Goro lifted his torso and laid Akira’s head on his shoulder.

“Here, don’t lie on your side, it’ll fuck up your ribs.”

Akira shifted around, getting comfortable and wound up basically on top of Goro, face nuzzled into his neck, and arms wrapped around him.

“God, you sap.  Go to sleep, dumbass.”

“Mmmm… lo’ you…Gor-ro.”

The blush on Goro’s face got even hotter.  “Shut the hell up and go to sleep.”

Akira saw right through him, grinning against his neck and settling down.  He seemed to drop off to sleep almost immediately, breathing deeply.

Goro had been certain he would be up for hours, plagued by plans and paranoia, but Akira’s comforting weight on top of him quickly guided Goro into a lull.  It must be the adrenaline crash, but suddenly, Goro felt like he could sleep for a week.  Drowsily, he moved on instinct and pressed a kiss to Akira’s eternally fluffy hair.

“I love you too.”

------

Goro awoke suddenly to a loud click from the apartment door, and he leapt into action.  His hand shot under his pillow, pulling out his handgun (very illegal, but what did Goro care), and he tried to get to his feet, only to be stopped by a heavy weight on top of him.

He glanced down to see Akira, still sleeping on his chest.  Fuck.  He wouldn’t be able to get up in time.  He settled for wrapping an arm protectively around Akira’s back and pointing the gun steadily at the door to his room.  Footsteps were getting closer, and given how small his apartment was, they would arrive quickly.

Listening intently, he realized it sounded like at least two, maybe three, sets of footsteps.  If these were Shido’s men, he had to make a plan to escape after he killed them – and fast.  There was hushed whispering, then his door handle turned, and he curled his finger around the trigger – safety training be damned –

Only to see Futaba Sakura’s head poking cautiously around the frame.  She shrieked at the sight of the gun and ducked back behind the door.

“Godamnit, Sakura!  Why the hell are you here!?  Do you have any idea what under surveillance means!?”  Goro switched the safety on and released the gun, letting it drop to the bedside table.

“Hey!  I’ve rigged the cameras outside, we’re totally in a safe zone here!”  Sakura shoved her head back around the door, pushing it open wider.  “We came to make sure you hadn’t actually killed Akira!”

“You idiots picked my fucking lock for that!?”  Goro let his head thump back onto his pillow, irritation rendering his usual mask of politeness useless.

Behind her, she was apparently accompanied by Sakamoto and Okumura, who looked startled and suspicious respectively.

“Aki-chan hasn’t responded to anything since he texted last night-” Okumura began.

“Yeah, what did you do to him, you bastard!?”  Sakamoto shouldered forward into the room with Sakura.

With his free hand, Goro pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Other than extensive first aid, Sakamoto, absolutely nothing.”  He pushed the covers off of Akira so that the idiots could see him.

Akira grumbled minutely and burrowed further into Goro’s chest.

Sakamoto deflated instantly, looking relieved.  As he registered their position though, it quickly morphed into shock.  “Are you guys CUDDLING!?  For real!?”

Over Sakura’s sudden snickering, Goro sighed, running his hand through his hair.  “It is far too early for this kind of bullshit.”

Sakura laughed harder.  “It’s literally noon! Mwehehehe!”

Goro groaned, slapping around his bedside table for his phone and clicking it on.  Fuck, it really was noon.  He also had about fifty missed messages from the thieves’ groupchat.  Ugh.  At least he wasn’t scheduled to check in with Shido until tomorrow.  He had specifically planned a free day today, thank god.

Okumura, ever the sane one, finally stepped forward.  “Is Aki-chan alright?”  She reached down and unzipped her bag, revealing an extremely worried Morgana.

“Akira!”

“Ugh, shut up.  He’s fine for now.  He has cracked ribs and is probably still coming off the drugs, but other than that it’s all superficial.”  Goro poked Akira’s uninjured cheek.  “Hey, dumbass, deal with your sycophants.”

Akira scrunched his face up.  Finally muttering something intelligible, he groaned, “Mmnnnnooooo… comfy.”  Goro blushed bright red.

“Akira, under little sister law I am now obligated to make fun of you forever.”  Sakura gloated.  “You just called your murder-boyfriend ‘comfy’!  Negative five to your charisma stat!”

“BOYFRIEND!?!  SINCE WHEN!?!” 

Goro felt his respect for Sakamoto fall once again (how was it possible) –

“Akechi-kun, if you hurt him, I will use every resource at my disposal to end you.”

- and his respect for Okumura increase in the same moment.

“I swear to christ, if you all don’t shut up right now-”

“Mmmff.  Loud.  Hurtsss.”  Without thinking, Goro moved his hand from Akira’s back up to his nape, rubbing to try and soothe the throbbing headache he must have.

The clamor ceased for a moment as Morgana leapt onto the bed, settling down on Akira’s back, before quickly moving off when he winced severely.

“Akechi, what did you mean by drugs?”  He pawed at Akira’s head gently.

“The illegal kind.  Supposed ‘truth serum’.  I don’t actually know what’s in it, however.”  Goro brushed a hand over the bandage on Akira’s neck, earning him a small noise and another nuzzle.  I was going to smuggle him over to Takemi’s later for a blood test and actual compression wraps.”

Morgana looked worried still, and curled around Akira’s head, purring comfortingly.

Goro was still feeling the bone-deep exhaustion from last night, but he was slowly regaining control over his masks.  “Pray tell, what was your plan in coming here now?”  He spoke into the momentary silence.

It was Sakura who responded.  “Eh, it really was just to check on Akira.  I brought along Haru and Ryuji because I figured they would be the best at PVP if needed.”

Morgana sighed.  “We couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just another betrayal.”  He shot Goro a sharp look.

Goro snorted, “Well, I suppose that’s fair.  Rest assured, I am still planning a betrayal.”

Sakura frowned.  “I bugged your phone.  That guy constantly calling you is a piece of work – that’s Shido, right?”

“Of course you did.”  Goro huffed.  “Yes, his name is Masayoshi Shido.  Also, don’t bother removing the bug, that phone is full of them.”  Goro sighed.  “Shido is a paranoid bastard.”

“From what we heard,” Okumura began carefully, “it sounds like he has some kind of leverage over you.”

Goro snarled, “For now.  I’ll ruin that piece of shit if it kills me.”

Futaba cocked her head, eyes hard and assessing, “You aren’t going to kill him like all the others?”

“No.  I’m going to destroy him.  I never planned to kill anyone initially, but whatever.  My methods are far more merciful than Shido’s, at least.”  Goro ground out.  He was certain Akira was fully awake now – he could feel him blinking.  Unfortunately, Akira didn’t seem inclined to interrupt, no matter how much Goro wanted to have this conversation some other time.

“WHAT!?”  Sakamoto, squawked, “How is murder the merciful option!?”

Sakura and Okumura looked a little pale, and Goro certainly didn’t want to be laying down for this.  “Leave it, Sakamoto.”

“Ann.”  Akira’s slurred voice interrupted whatever Sakamoto was gearing up to respond with.

“What do you mean, Aki-chan?”  Okumura asked.  Sakura looked equally confused.

“Could ‘ave killed Kamoshi’a, but suffer mor’ alive.”  Well, he was a little more coherent than last night at least.  That was very interesting, the Phantom Thieves refused to murder not out of mercy, but out of spite?  Goro could respect that.

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.”  Sakamoto deflated.

“Mmhmm.”  Akira still didn’t move from his position on top of Goro.

“Anyway.  Akira, we need to get you to Takemi’s.”  Goro ruthlessly steered the conversation away from that topic.  He would not be engaging with any of that until later.

“Uggghhhh.  Don’ wann’ move.”

Goro rolled his eyes.  He leveraged himself upwards, forcing a very disgruntled Akira to lay in his lap instead.  Immediately, Akira made like an octopus and wormed his arms around Goro’s waist, cuddling closer again.  Goddamn his fucking blush.

“Aki-chan is being surprisingly cute!”  Okumura chirped.  She still seemed pale from the earlier conversation, but was following Goro’s example with the subject change.

“HA!  Hear that, scrub?  Now you’ve been demoted all the way to cute! That charisma stat is tanking!”  Sakura crowed, clearly taking every opportunity to avoid the previous subject as well.

Morgana took the hint, sitting upright and calling out “Looking cute, Joker!”

“Bully…ing me.”  Despite his grumbling, Goro could see a smile stretched across Akira’s face.

He took a moment to rub at Akira’s nape again, prompting even more nuzzling.  “Come on already, you can’t walk so I’ll just be carrying you anyway.  What are you even complaining about.”  Goro snarked, peeling Akira’s arms off of him and shifting to get out of bed.

The Thieves’ faces had suddenly fallen.  “Can’t walk…?”  Sakura asked lowly.

Akira instantly picked up on the changed mood and attempted to sit up as well, “’S nothing.  ‘M fine.”

Goro rolled his eyes again.  Fucking hero complex.  “Stop.  I will not have you shifting your ribs about on my watch.”  He pushed Akira down so he was laying on his back.  Turning to the Thieves, he said.  “I can fill you in more later, but I’m rather eager to find out if Akira can take pain medication yet.  So, Takemi.  Now.”

“How’re we going to get there, though?”  Sakamoto scratched his head, “I mean, if we’re being watched…”

“Metaverse.”  Sakura said at the same instant that Goro did.

Deciding he didn’t actually care whether the Thieves were aware of his exact plans to get to Takemi’s clinic, he nudged at Akira, ignoring the others completely.  “I’m going to check the wraps.  Does the one on your leg still feel secure?”

Akira nodded blearily, “Mhm.  M’ ribs too.”

Goro unzipped the jacket and checked his bandages.  Everything looked to be in place still, and none of the wraps had been bled through yet – save for Akira’s wrists, where the abrasions were clearly deeper.  Goro hissed as rage flooded through him again.  He suppressed it in favor of zipping the jacket back up and levering Akira into a sitting position.

“Distract your idiots, I need to change before we go.”  He glanced back at the Thieves, only to see them watching him wide-eyed.

“What.”  He snapped.

“We’ve just… never seen you so gentle Akechi-kun.”  Okumura smiled.

“Oh my god, you are so sweet to him, it’s like Red Hawk and Black Condor holy shit!”  Futaba squealed, leaning forward excitedly.  Goro felt like his face was aflame because no way was he going think that he and Akira reflected BlackHawk at all.  Nope.  Absolutely not.

…

Oh god even the color schemes would match considering Loki and Arséne.

Goddamnit.

He bolted up from the bed, rushing to grab his incognito clothes from the closet.  “Shut the hell up.  We’re leaving in five minutes, come with or don’t, I don’t give a shit.”

He nearly slammed the door behind him to muffle Sakura’s laughter.  It was going to be absolute torture to work with these idiots in Shido’s palace.  He wasn’t stupid, Akira would definitely bring them along despite Goro’s protests.  Ugh.

While getting mostly presentable in his disguise, he met his own eyes in the mirror.

Shockingly, he suddenly felt overwhelmed at the clear evidence that he wasn’t alone.  He wasn’t alone.  Akira was here, the Thieves were allies, and Goro had a team to rely on.

Embarrassingly, he almost got a little teary-eyed from the realization, and ruthlessly stuffed those feelings away.  Focusing as he always did on his next steps.

Now, instead of three parties at the table, there were two.  Shido knew nothing, alone and blind in his ivory tower.  Meanwhile, Goro held every advantage and could see the whole table.  Finally, he would get his revenge.  He would have everything he wanted, including what he thought his could never have – Akira – and Shido would have nothing ever again.

A vicious grin crawled over the face in the mirror as Goro considered the game he’d been playing for two years – now easily winnable.

I call you a Liar, Masayoshi Shido, and challenge you to reveal your losing bid and hubristic ambition.  This is where your world ends.

Straightening his low ponytail, Goro opened the door again to see the Thieves hovering around Akira.  Careful to make his intentions clear, considering how out of it Akira still seemed, he strode over and easily lifted him up and into his arms.  He reveled again in how Akira seemed to melt against him, and discreetly pressed a kiss to his crown.  Mine.

“Come on, let’s head over.”

Sakura pulled out her phone and they entered the Metaverse, heading towards Yongen Jaya, towards the end of this cruel game, and towards victory.