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You see- Goro knew he had absolutely no right barging into Akira’s room like that. In fact, he knew very well how little Akira appreciated being taken by surprise like this, an odd similarity they actually shared, despite their many differences.
But he did it anyway; not even bothering to knock as he threw the door open, taking advantage of the fact that Akira left his door unlocked nearly ninety-nine percent of the time, the only one percent the time being when he was attending lectures or seminars.
Akira had his friends over- because of course he did- and was chatting with them amicably until they were rudely interrupted by Goro’s arrival. Goro didn’t care about the glare Akira threw him; wouldn’t have gotten angry at him for throwing him right out of his room and prioritizing his friends, his actual friends, not his fake boyfriend he was only going out with because of this stupid bet they made while Akira was piss poor drunk and Goro hadn’t known any better.
So imagine his surprise when Akira actually frowned at him instead of throwing a thinly-veiled insult, giving his friends a look Goro wasn’t privy to understand.
Perhaps this had been a mistake.
Truth be told, Goro didn’t even know what demons had possessed him to come here. It wasn’t like Akira would be able to pitch in and help out; let alone understand the rage swiveling inside his heart. Hell, Goro couldn’t even expect him to understand the reason he was upset, and yet, after talking to that insufferable bastard piece of shit of a human being, his first instinct had not been to crawl into his room and scream his anger into a pillow-
But go find one Akira Kurusu and…and what? Vent to him?
This was stupid.
Goro swallowed as he turned on his heel, not a single word having slipped past his lips. He knew this would likely create gossip- the fact that he came here in the first place, that he seemed upset, that there was obviously something on his mind given how Akira hadn’t butted heads with him right off the bat.
Even if they were trying to fool the entire campus into thinking they were lovebirds. Stupid bets and even stupider hormones, you see.
Anyway.
He was about to leave and pretend he’d never been there when a hand clasped around his wrist, keeping him from fleeing the scene. His first instinct was to lash out; to snarl and yell at whoever had dared to touch him out of the blue, because even Akira respected his boundaries, much to his surprise.
Yet, when he turned around and met Akira’s gaze, his urge to fight and yell at him for touching him without permission instantly evaporated, and instead, Goro found himself swallowing around a lump in his throat.
“Guys?” Goro heard Akira mumble. “Sorry. Do you mind leaving?”
“Are you for real?!” One of Akira’s closest friends, the athletic one who could never keep his mouth shut, seemed clearly unhappy with the suggestion. “C’mon, Akira, we were just about to get to the good part of the game!”
“You know, it would be a real shame indeed to stop here,” some other voice muttered, and only now did Goro register the male artist’s presence- yet another eccentric, yet another one of Akira’s closest friends. “I’ve finally found myself in a winning streak, after all.”
“Get it together, guys,” another voice chimed in, and Goro blinked as he took in the last of Akira’s friends; the blonde model who was already making a name for herself left and right. “Pack it up. You know Akira would never ask us to leave unless it’s serious. And Akechi?”
Goro jolted as he was addressed, a strange bout of panic seizing his bones; and strangely enough, Akira shuffled forward as though trying to cover him from prying eyes.
As if.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be like you’ve never been spotted by anyone here.”
The blonde sent him a smile as she got up from where she’d been sitting on the ground, yanking both boys upwards by pulling at their ears; yelling at them to get a move on. Soon enough, they cleared out, shuffling past Goro without so much as a glance or a curious, inquisitive look.
A thought crossed his mind- perhaps he should be nicer to the girl. At least treat her with more respect the next time an opportunity came around, or get her some chocolate. He knew she didn’t admire him or liked him for his looks unlike the the majority of the girls at campus; she wasn’t going to misunderstand if he-
“Akechi.”
Goro swallowed. Akira’s searing touch had long left him; in fact, Akira had let go the moment he’d asked his friends to leave, but despite having every chance to, Goro hadn’t moved from the spot.
Now, he stood in Akira’s private dorm room, a small, tiny thing, barely able to house his bed and a desk and a chair as the door fell shut behind him, a deafening silence filling the room. Goro spared a glance at the ground, where a board game now lay abandoned; a reminder of how rudely and abruptly Goro had arrived, not even warning Akira via text or something the like.
And even though he couldn’t stand Akira’s guts, a part of him felt really bad for barging in like this, being a rather unwelcome guest.
“What’s up?”
The question should have sounded accusing. It should have sounded mocking, even; Akira had every right to dislike him, had never tried to hide his disdain, and perhaps that had been the reason Goro’s interest in him had been awoken in the first place, but the point was-
He didn’t sound dismissive. He didn’t sound disinterested, he didn’t sound accusative, he didn’t sound-
“Hey. Do you mind if I touch you?”
Goro felt himself bristle. It was an instinct instilled in him ever since he’d been a small child; and even now, on the cusp of adulthood, or perhaps, long surpassing it, he couldn’t turn this based reaction off in the slightest.
And he knew Akira saw; he knew Akira took a step back because he respected his boundaries and wanted to respect him, but ironically, what he wanted of Akira right now was the exact opposite.
He shook his head, despite every last instinct of his rearing its head, telling him to turn tail and run; his cheeks burned up with heat, a queasy feeling stirring in his gut, and yet, he didn’t move an inch, and kept his mouth sealed shut.
“Alright. Come here.”
It should have sounded demeaning. It should have been humiliating, Akira sitting down on his bed with a plopping sound, patting his lap and looking at him with soft expectation glimmering in his eyes.
It should have been revolting.
Instead, Goro swallowed, lowering his gaze as he stumbled forward, a strange, quiet noise escaping past his lips as his heart rate accelerated.
“I promise you nobody’s going to hear about this,” Akira mumbled, spreading his arms as Goro stood in front of him, heart leaping into his throat as he fell onto the raven’s lap. This would surely prove to be a mistake; trusting Akira, trusting his word, bet or no bet- transactional relationship or not. This was a fake, deceitful relationship kept up merely for appearances, and yet, right now, right here- there was no one around that could see them.
The realization sent Goro’s heart racing.
“You can stay over, if you want,” Akira murmured into his ear, his arms slowly winding around his torso, barely pulling him closer- not because he was afraid, or disgusted, but because he likely gauged each and every of Goro’s reactions, and didn’t know what he was comfortable with and what not. “I’m free for the rest of the night. Well- obviously. But yeah. Feel free to take me up on that offer.”
Really, Goro shouldn’t trust his word like that. He knew better than anyone else that Akira felt less for him than for a pebble on the street; they had butted heads and fought over many things so many times, they hated each other’s guts for a reason, and the only reason there was a ceasefire going on right now was because Goro needed to prove to Akira that he could, in fact, pretend to be his loving boyfriend and fool the entire campus along with his friends, while Akira-
Truth be told, Akira hadn’t made true on his bet yet in the slightest, and a part of Goro found himself largely disappointed over it.
Still, even taking that into account, Goro shouldn’t have come here. He was letting Akira take a peek at his true self, not some fake mask; the consequences that could follow from this could be dire.
And yet, instead of running away as far as he could, his fingers dug into the soft, cheap material of Akira’s shirt, and he found himself chasing after that permanent scent of coffee and chocolate that Akira would never fail to carry around, nosing at his neckline.
“Who pissed you off?” Akira asked quietly, barely reacting to the touch; speaking in soft, gentle tunes as though that wouldn’t usually piss Goro off beyond reason. “I’m sure I can convince Ryuji to break a bone or two if it comes down to it. Especially when you’re this upset. I’ve never seen you shaken up so badly.”
Instead of pressing any further upon receiving nothing but silence, Akira shrugged, releasing a quiet sigh. Goro felt a hand running through his hair, tugging stray strands behind his ears before picking just a single one to twirl around his finger; and when Goro made the mistake of looking up, he witnessed a crooked, gentle smile spreading across Akira’s face.
“Maybe it’s even time for murder, what do you say?”
For the split of a second, Goro imagined it; Shido laying in a puddle of blood, a triumphant, happy Akira standing above him, twirling a knife in his fingers- and for some reason, the image did things to his mind he really shouldn’t think about as much as he did.
He felt his body quake under silent laughter, but for some reason, Akira didn’t laugh along; watched him with those unnerving, ever so attentive eyes, the corner of his lips suddenly turned downwards.
“I mean it. Stop pretending like things are okay. Tell me what’s up so I can piss you off and make you angry at me instead of ruining your pretty face like that-”
“It’s nothing.”
Akira gasped, clasping Goro’s chin in his hand to force his gaze; except that Goro found himself watching each and every last of the raven’s expressions long before. “It’s fine, Akechi. I’m sure Ann will be helpful in covering up some second-degree murder, and I can always tell her it was an act of passion, so-”
“You’re so fucking ridiculous,” Goro snorted, and when he fell forward, Akira caught him without so much as blinking twice- his hand instantly coming to rest at his nape, and though normally, Goro would have bitten his head off for doing that, the gesture felt strangely comforting.
“If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t hate me as much as you do,” Akira retorted, a snicker resounding in Goro’s ears, “But anyway, that’s not the reason you’re here. Do you need a punching bag? I’m sure I can lie and say those blue and purple patches are just, I don’t know, your loving bites of affection instead of being abusive punches. I’m sure Ann has already secretly marked me as a closet masochist in her head anyway, so really, nobody would be any the wiser.”
“You must be really stupid if you think I think that offer comes at no cost,” Goro murmured, feeling a pleasant shudder run down his spine as Akira’s fingers caressed the back of his neck, massaging the skin ever so gently.
“Of course not,” Akira retorted, sounding almost offended, “The price you’d have to pay is rather cheap, though. One single kiss on the lips in front of my friends, initiated by yours truly- and we have a deal.”
Goro huffed, finding himself closing every inch of gap between their bodies, chasing Akira’s body warmth; and soon finding himself being pulled into a loving embrace. “Just that one kiss? You seem to be selling yourself short, Akira. Or perhaps you’ve already fallen for me so badly that-”
“Akechi.”
Goro flinched as he buried his face in the crook of Akira’s neck, heartbeat thundering in his ears. Perhaps this had been a mistake; perhaps he would be kicked out of the room right now, Akira throwing one insult after another at him because he had overstepped a line here, Akira reminding him that this was fake and not real and would never be real-
“Tell me.”
Goro found himself sucking in a breath as an arm slung around his torso, a hand settling on his lower back; lips mouthing at the side of his neck as warmth threatened to consume him from all sides. “Which shithead’s face do I need to bash in?”
“Why would you even assume I-”
“You’re crying,” Akira sighed, and Goro jolted, hands flying to his cheeks- only to find them completely dry, a surge of anger welling up inside him. Was Akira making fun of him? “Okay, you’re not physically crying, but your face says it all. And I might only be your fake boyfriend because of this stupid bet we made a few weeks ago, but I can’t stand anyone else ruining your beautiful face like that. It makes me want to murder so bad.”
Goro felt his heart stir in his chest, fingertips tingling with fear as he tried, and failed, to reach around Akira’s neck and hug him back; so he settled by burying his fingers in his shirt again, tugging and yanking at whatever bit of material he could grasp.
“Shouldn’t you be asking me why I’m upset?”
“If you wanted to talk about that,” Akira sighed, and Goro’s heart lurched into his throat as the world tipped over, and Akira forced them to lay down horizontally on his bed- with Goro atop of him, Akira’s arms still wound around his body, “you would have long screamed my head off. Or gone verbal in one way or another. Instead, you’re…you’re so quiet it’s unsettling.”
“Unsettling, you say.”
Another sigh left Akira’s lips, and once again, Goro felt a hand running through his hair, messing up his perfectly styled hair; yet once again, he didn’t find himself hating the touch at all. “Let me put it in simpler terms- I fucking hate seeing you like this, and I hate seeing you like this even more when I’m not the reason for it.”
“That very sentence is contradictory in itself, and you should really think twice before-”
Goro instantly snapped his mouth shut when Akira’s fingers scratched his scalp ever so gently. He snapped it shut even more when he made the mistake of finding Akira’s gaze, Akira’s soft, calculative gaze; Akira’s kind, beguiling voice going, “Good boy,” as he patted Goro’s head, “Good job for holding up for so long. Now fess up, pretty boy, and tell me whose skull I need to bash in before I kill the wrong person.”
Goro’s mouth went dry. All the hair on his skin stood up as Akira’s hand traveled down his back, teasing and tickling him ever so slightly before coming dangerously close to his ass. Protest rose from the back of his throat; protest that died and turned into a short-lived sigh as Akira began drawing circles onto his back, fingers roaming up and down, down and up; a constant, grounding reminder that he had survived that horrible phone call, that things were over for now.
For now.
He felt Akira’s knuckles dig into his back as a spike of fear overcame him, the pressure as soothing as it was relieving, uncoiling some of the tension he didn’t realize had arisen; and as he melted into Akira’s touch, more sighs escaping him, he wondered whether it was really such a bad idea to tell Akira everything.
“It’s nothing…overly serious,” he mumbled, still hesitant, still afraid; and he’d rather die than admit that a mewl-like sound slipped past his lips as Akira dug his fingers into his back, his other hand scratching his scalp simultaneously; setting all of his nerve ends on fire.
“If it makes you storm into my room- mine, I repeat, the person you hate most on campus- while looking like you’re about to tear someone’s throat apart even though there are people around- then no, it is overly serious,” Akira huffed back. “If there’s one thing Goro Akechi values above all, it is his stellar reputation and his immaculate image. For you to do something like this, something really fucking horrible has to have happened- so tell me. Tell me, Akechi.”
“But it’s not like either of us can-”
“It doesn’t matter,” the raven cut in, and Goro yelped in surprise as he felt fingers digging into his asscheeks before Akira instantly let up and squeezed his waist instead, “whether we can change the situation or not. I want to know what happened. I need to know, actually. Otherwise, I might just burn the entire campus down to give way for this anger in my heart.”
“But what’s the point?” Goro sounded pathetic in his own ears. “It’s not like-”
“At least you won’t suffer alone,” Akira threw in, sending Goro’s heart into a state of turmoil, “If anything, that alone is worth a lot.”
Goro swallowed as he buried his face in Akira’s chest, his head tipped slightly to the side; and when he heard Akira’s erratic, frantic heartbeat, he wondered how on earth someone could play the role of a fake boyfriend as earnestly as Akira did.
His hand curled over Akira’s ribcage, addicted to the feeling of Akira’s thrumming heartbeat; feeling his own heartbeat fall in tact soon enough.
The things this man did to him. The things this man made him do. Goro could never, ever fall for him, but he was already dancing to Akira’s tune more often than he liked.
“My father called,” he pressed out between gritted teeth, feeling Akira’s heartbeat stutter for the split of a second, and perhaps that was exactly what gave him courage to keep going, “He seemed to have gotten wind of the fact that…I was dating someone now. And that I wasn’t scoring top grades anymore-”
“What do you mean, you’re not earning top grades anymore?” Akira murmured, “You’re literally ranked first in every class you’re taking-”
“-but I’m sharing the overall first rank on campus with you now,” Goro cut in, “And, well…that man had something to say about that.”
Akira had never heard him talk about Shido. In fact, Goro wasn’t even sure whether Akira was even aware Shido Masayoshi was his father. It didn’t seem to matter, and though Goro was sure nothing would change if he did reveal that sliver of truth to Akira, he decided that fact was best kept to himself for now.
“And what did he say?” Akira asked in a low tone, and Goro felt up his heartbeat, finding it out of tune; sometimes erratically fast, sometimes exceptionally slow, an involuntary sigh falling from Goro’s lips. He felt himself tense as he recalled the words; breath hitching before Akira dug his nails into his scalp just so, applying the smallest bit of pressure, and releasing some of his coiled-up tension anew.
“He…”
Goro felt himself dissolve under Akira’s touch as the raven squeezed his shoulders before going back to draw nonsensical shapes and patterns onto his back, and for some reason, Goro began to loathe his shirt keeping him from enjoying any real skin on skin contact.
“He said, and I quote, ‘Well, no wonder you fell from rank given your whorish mother’s habits. Congratulations- you take right after her’, and I-”
“What?”
Goro flinched. He’d never heard Akira’s voice filled with so much hatred, indignation dripping from his tone as he suddenly forced both of them to sit up, leaning against the headrest for support.
Goro made the mistake of finding his gaze; an involuntary shiver chasing down his spine when he was confronted with a fiery, burning blaze in usually mischief-sparkling eyes.
“What the actual fuck? Are you kidding me? He did not- tell me you didn’t just sit back and take that, Akechi. Tell me you-”
Shame began to tingle Goro’s bones as he lowered his gaze, biting his lip. He shifted in Akira’s lap, surprised to find Akira locking him in place instead of letting him escape; after all, Goro’s silence already spoke miles for itself.
He knew how Akira disliked spoilsports and bullies; knew how much he loathed the victims for not standing up for themselves, too. Goro wouldn’t blame him for going on a rant and resenting him for not having the courage to defend himself; imagine how surprised he was when Akira’s next words seemed void of judgment, and instead filled with concern.
“What the fuck does he have against you that you couldn’t speak up?”
Goro felt his throat dry up as Akira squeezed his arms, sending pleasant shivers through his body.
“Okay, ignore what I just said- but, uhm. Could you tell me where your…uh, piece of shit father lives? Asking for a friend, of course. I don’t plan on bombing him with nasty, foul eggs when he walks out of the house one day prepared for some important ass meeting-”
A snort flared up Goro’s nostrils, and he found himself falling forward; caught in Akira’s gentle embrace as he allowed himself to lean against him for support. It was terrifying, of course; you wouldn’t catch him dead doing this if they weren’t fake dating, and Goro could justify his behavior by saying he played his role the right way.
He just didn’t know how to explain that his heart rate was extremely out of tune; or how to explain the pleasant, gentle shudders that traveled down his spine whenever Akira touched him.
This was transactional. Fake. Akira was trying to beat him in the role of playing the perfect boyfriend as much as Goro was-
-except that Goro wasn’t acting right now, was he.
“You know, I might not want to admit it, but he is a rather important figure-”
“What about your mom? You think she would stand for this kind of slander? Don’t you want to defend her good name and-”
Normally, Goro would bristle and hiss at anyone so daring to ask about his mother’s existence; let alone her personality. She was a carefully kept secret; a hidden treasure he never, ever shared with anyone.
“She’s long gone,” he found himself whispering, not missing Akira’s harsh swallow, “And besides, I wasn’t born out of love. He forced her, and she kept me for reasons unknown to me- but before I was even able to get to know her properly, life grew too much for her to handle, and I found her with her wrists slithered open in the bathtub.”
He felt Akira tense under him, and found himself reaching out for the first time tonight; letting his fingers ghost along Akira’s shoulder blade before traveling down his arm, surprised to find Akira intertwining their fingers, and keeping him locked there.
“I think I lived alone with her until then. Ended up at some random orphanage before daddy dearest picked me up like a lost child on a playground and took me in. Life was hell. Is hell. But now that I’m an adult, he mostly can’t control my actions anymore, and since I don’t share his name…well. He leaves me alone for most of my sorry life that I can barely afford with my stipend and college fees chipping at me.”
“Why not move into another room, then? I doubt your current place is cheap-”
“My generous father gifted it to me,” Goro spat, feeling his body shiver in disgust, “So I don’t pay any rent for it. If I were to move- and trust me, I want to move- costs would multiply, and it would only make things harder for me.”
“...That’s why you don’t like hanging out in your room,” Akira murmured, and a light chuckle shook Goro’s body in confirmation as he chased the raven’s body warmth, “Now I get it.”
“Feel sorry for me yet?” Goro’s tone was bitter as he leaned backwards, drawn to the strange look in Akira’s eyes, “What a horribly sad backstory for the campus star, huh?”
Akira’s eyes twinkled brighter than the night sky littered with stars; and for some reason, Goro deluded himself into thinking he didn’t pity him in the least, because he hated being pitied, and being pitied meant being looked down on-
-and if there was anyone Goro didn’t want to be belittled by, it was the one man who could match his wit and intelligence one blow after another- for reasons he couldn’t really understand, but did it matter?
“Objectively speaking- yes, that is a horrible story,” Akira murmured, his gaze unrelenting, “And the way you pridefully carry yourself like some blown-up peacock makes way more sense now.”
“Excuse you-”
“And while I know this means absolutely nothing to you, in fact- you probably care less than I hope you do- I’m fucking proud of you, Akechi. Good job on making it this fucking far in life.”
A hand sunk into his hair, patting his head. “I mean this without an ounce of sarcasm, Akechi. I’m fucking proud of you. And I think she would be, too.”
Goro felt like someone had punched all the oxygen from his lungs.
“I’m still going to bomb your shitty asshole of a father with rotten eggs when I come across him. So tell me- how can I seduce you into telling me his location?”
This was surreal. This was more than just surreal; Akira waxing poetry and singing his praise instead of trashing him like it was his job. They hated each other’s guts; Goro knew this for a fact.
So why did Akira’s fierce gaze feel so comforting? Why did the silent anger in his eyes feel so justifying, so right, when Goro didn’t give two shits about his opinion, and they were merely acting to be in love, with neither of them needing to commit the role to a T?
“If you ever find himself in his vicinity, I’d suggest you run as fast as you can,” Goro mumbled back, feeling his carefully crafted defense mechanisms melt as Akira scratched along his scalp before running a hand up and down his back, “He’s not very pleasant to deal with, and he has many ways of forcing your hand, so-”
“I don’t give a fuck about that,” Akira huffed, and the anger in his voice felt palpably real, “I need you to spill his location and the rest is up to me. You got that?”
A strange sound bounced off the walls before Goro buried his face in Akira’s shoulder, following his beguiling call to lay back down in bed. “Do you really think you could get me to cave in so easily?”
“Oh, no fucking way. But this is an asshole extraordinaire we’re talking about. And if Goro Akechi can’t call the fucking cops on him, it lays on vigilante heroes to deliver swift justice.”
“You don’t mean vigilante heroes, you mean vagabonds,” Goro murmured back, slotting their bodies together in a way that was comfortable for both of them, “And you know how I feel about people acting out of law and order. The world-”
“-would be a bad place if people acted like they wanted all the time, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Akira groaned, and Goro found his hands being interlocked with Akira’s own before one of them was led downwards. Curiosity nagged at him, so he let Akira do as he pleased, breath hitching when his fingers grazed the hem of Akira’s shirt before he was suddenly released, as though it was up to him what to do now, “I get ya, Akechi. So as much as I love the idea of bringing that fucking asshole to justice, I won’t dare upset you like that.”
Goro’s fingers curled around the hem of Akira’s shirt, barely touching the sliver of skin he exposed; yet unable to stay away from it completely. “Bold words coming from someone who acts against my will and does the stupidest shit nearly all of the time- ah, did I mention you constantly rebelling against me yet? Or being up to no good, despite his holier-than-thou attitude? We should talk about all of that while-”
“We’re not talking about that because we’re going to fucking cuddle and take a nap now,” Akira interrupted, his hands digging into Goro’s sides, “And once we wake up, you’re going to feel a little less shitty and be able to summon all the hatred you harbor for me again, and trash me for daring to touch you like this.”
Really?
Was that really how things would go?
Goro felt his heartbeat skidder in his chest as he caught Akira’s gaze.
“Have you forgotten? I’m your rival. The number one good-for-nothing guy you hate the most here. I’m not letting some bald-headed geezer take that place from me, no way.”
“How do you even know he’s bald?”
“If he isn’t, I’m going to make him lose all of his hair soon enough,” Akira hissed, and for some reason, his reaction caused Goro to chuckle out loud, unable to keep the sound at bay. “Shitheads like him don’t deserve to have even a tiny bit of hair on their head. If there’s a chance that could scratch at their ego, you bet your sweet, juicy ass I’m going to try and turn that nightmare into a reality to see that sweet, sweet agony spread across his ugly-ass face.”
“Did you just make an extremely inappropriate comment about my-”
“Oh no, Akechi, look at the time!” Akira suddenly threw in, “If we don’t take a nap right now, it’s gonna mess up our sleep schedule so bad! And hey, I heard taking power naps is good for your skin, too- and I know how much you care about your appearance…”
A strange, unknown feeling stirred in Goro’s chest as he obediently closed his eyes with a huff, his fingers grazing that tiny patch of skin he was burning to touch and explore thoroughly; and then his brain malfunctioned as something soft and sweet fluttered down atop his head, and he realized Akira might have just kissed him.
Damn him for missing his lips.
“Have a good rest, will you? I promise to wake you up in due time. But for now…just allow yourself to have this, okay?”
Could he?
Could he really?
Well, damn him for getting so lucky; and damn Akira for being such a bold piece of shit.
…Though there was no harm in taking him up on his offer and attempting to sleep his anger off while being cradled in warmth, would there be?
Goro decided the best way to find out was to take the chance and see for himself; and so, he took one last deep breath before he let the throes of fatigue and slumber pull him under, missing a certain raven cursing under his breath.
“Fucking shit- stop making me fall for you even harder, Akechi.”
Well.
Perhaps he’d be allowed to unravel that secret in due time, hm?
And perhaps by then, he’d finally be able to admit to himself what it was he felt for Akira exactly, instead of the constant denial he was battling right now; but only time would tell.
For now, Goro fell into peaceful slumber, despite the unease stirring inside his chest; unease Akira wasn’t at fault for. If anything, his kind words and behavior had helped Goro deal with his anger far better than most of the time, and if Goro pretended to be asleep for just a little longer because Akira was caressing the top of his head while hugging him ever so tightly, it was nobody’s business but his own.
Or perhaps…theirs, soon enough.