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“Want to know something ridiculous?”
Akira rolled onto his side, smiling at Goro in the dark as he glared at his bedroom ceiling. “Always.”
“Shido asked me what I wanted to do with my life once I stopped being his attack dog.” Akira's smile faltered at the phrasing, but he kept silent, as this was clearly eating away Goro. “That bastard was going to kill me and just wanted the chance to gloat over the fact I’d never get to do what I wanted.”
“What was it you wanted to do?”
Goro side-eyed him. “I told him I wanted to travel.”
“Did you mean it?”
“At the time”—Goro repositioned himself to lay on his side too, facing Akira—“I don’t think I actually knew what I wanted to do. I just said it because it sounded like what any young adult would want to do after graduation…”
Goro went silent. Over the last few years, Akira had gotten pretty good at reading his moods, knowing when to give him plenty of space to think and when Goro needed to be brought out of his own head.
“What about now?” Akira prompted gently. “Travelling?”
“...yes.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere,” Goro said. “I…”
Akira moved closer, sharing the same pillow. “You?”
“I’ve never been outside Tokyo.”
“Then let’s go somewhere. Nothing is stopping us.”
“I don’t want to just leave the city, Akira. I want to leave the country.”
“Okay. Let’s leave.” Akira reached across the scant space between them and wound their fingers together.
Goro sighed. “It’s not that simple. An international trip is quite an undertaking. The timing isn’t right. We can’t just up and leave tomorrow. You know I’m moving next weekend.”
Behind Goro and across the room, Akira could just barely make out the silhouette of the boxes and bins they’d bought earlier that day in preparation. Goro had been living with Sae for the last four years, getting back on his feet after everything that went down after Maruki’s paradise burned. It was a good arrangement. Sae had been a great roommate for Goro, providing the stability and routine he had so desperately lacked and needed. Goro provided… Well, Akira wasn’t entirely sure what Sae got out of it, to be quite honest.
It got a little awkward when Akira started coming around. Fooling around in Makoto’s old bedroom was swiftly declared a Terrible Idea, and all their future nights were spent at Leblanc, where Akira was staying while he attended university.
With the money he had saved living with Sae, Goro was finally moving into his own place in Kichijoji. Akira had accompanied him on several apartment tours, providing his opinion when Goro asked. He was secretly pleased when Goro decided to go with the one in Kichijoji. It had been Akira’s favorite location. Many great memories had been made there, some of their best. Maybe Akira was a brainless, sentimental fool after all.
“I didn’t say anything about leaving tomorrow,” Akira laughed. “Spring break is coming up for me in two months, and your boss has been begging you to use your stockpiled vacation days, so let’s plan for it.”
“Where would we even go?”
A tug on a dormant part of Akira’s heart led him to say, “France. We can visit a few cities. Have the best seafood you can imagine in Marseille, visit the Alps by Lyon, and maybe end in Paris.”
“I didn’t realize you were a French connoisseur.” Goro pulled Akira closer and whispered, “All of that sounds awfully romantic.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Pushing Goro flat on his back, Akira crawled over him. He bracketed his arms on either side of Goro’s head and leaned down to kiss him softly. “We’ll get you moved into your new apartment first,” he said against Goro’s lips. “Then we’ll make our escape.”
Once a thief, always a thief. Even in another country.
The first thing Akira stole abroad was a spoon. Specifically, the one from the first cafe they visited after landing in Marseille. They hadn't even gotten to their hotel yet, but they’d both been starving and needed the caffeine to stay awake long enough to acclimate to the time zone difference. Goro ordered a parfait and a black coffee, while Akira chose a cappuccino and a croissant.
“The filigree on this is quite stunning,” Goro commented idly, studying the spoon before placing it beside his finished parfait cup. “I wonder if they’re handmade.”
“Could be,” Akira said, leaning closer to look at it. “Much prettier than the plastic ones you keep at your apartment.”
Goro scoffed and stood up to stretch, “Shut it, or I won’t let you use any when you visit.”
“You know I’d just steal one from you,” Akira muttered into his mug, sending a challenging glare up at Goro. He received a rude gesture in return.
Akira drained the rest of his cappuccino and set the mug down, rattling the spoon on the table. While Goro’s back was turned, he impulsively grabbed it, tucking the spoon away in his hoodie’s front pocket to prove his point.
“I’m going to shower now. I expect you to be ready by the time I’m out.”
Akira nodded and gestured for Goro to take the bathroom first. When the door closed and the shower turned on, Akira opened his suitcase and unzipped a secret compartment. Out of his sleeve, he pulled his latest treasure: a fork—a beautiful silver one that gleamed in the evening sunlight streaming into their hotel room. The fork joined three others in various designs and three spoons he’d taken throughout their trip. He just needed one more of the latter to complete the pseudo-set he was building for Goro.
With the new apartment came the need for new things to put in it. Goro had the basics: a bed, a kotatsu, and a coffee pot. Akira scolded him before they left for his secret stash of instant coffee and his lack of cookware, declaring that Goro couldn’t live off takeout forever. To which Goro had spitefully replied, “Watch me.”
It had started with that petty swipe at the airport cafe and continued when they had their first Bouillabaisse for dinner. At first, Akira rationalized it as a cute way to remember their trip, taking a piece of each place they explored home. But as Akira pilfered forks and spoons from each restaurant, café, and hotel they visited, it evolved into something greater; it had become something more than just a simple utensil set.
Food had always been one of the ways Akira had shown his affection and care for his friends. Building Goro a personalized set felt like he was building a foundation for Goro to take care of himself. Or at least that’s what it had been slowly becoming for Akira. He just hoped Goro thought the idea was touching and not, well, stupid.
The shower shut off abruptly, startling Akira out of his reverie. He shoved the spoon and the rest of the stolen contraband back into the secret compartment and grabbed a change of clothes just as the door to the bathroom opened.
“You’re not dressed?”
“I—“ Akira turned around, and his rebuke died in his throat. His eyes, drawn like a moth to a flame, roamed over Goro’s steam-kissed skin, flushed pink and glistening from his shower. Akira swallowed as his eyes drifted further down.
“Nothing to say for yourself?”
When Akira met Goro’s eyes, there was a smug glint within them.
Goro knows he looks good.
“Oh, I have a lot to say,” Akira murmured, dropping his clothes on their bed and slowly sauntering toward Goro. He slipped a hand around Goro’s waist, relishing the heat radiating off his body. “None of it’s about me, though.”
Goro's smile turned downright sinful as he welcomed Akira into his arms. “Care to enlighten me?”
“Better yet,” Akira murmured, “I’ll show you.”
With his lips on Goro’s neck, he walked them back into the bathroom and shut the door with a kick.
Their last dinner in Paris was planned meticulously by Goro. He’d let Akira drag him around the first several days, taking him to all these off-the-beaten-path cafes and hidden gem establishments. For the evening Goro planned, the restaurant had to have a Michelin star, be food magazine-worthy, and have a view to die for. Jules Verne met all of Goro’s lofty expectations.
“This is the kind of place I would have killed to review for my food blog,” Goro said as they were seated, glancing around the restaurant.
Akira raised an eyebrow.
“Not like that,” Goro sneered at him when he caught Akira making a face, but there was a bit of mirth behind it. “You know what I meant.”
Akira did but was content to let Goro eat his words. Just for a little bit.
“You know, I used to read your food blog,” Akira admitted. “It was so pretentious. You used many fancy terms, which I had to look up their meanings. It expanded my vocabulary for sure.” Goro huffed and spent the next few minutes studying the menu. While Goro was otherwise occupied, Akira discreetly slipped one of his spoons into his suit jacket pocket.
“We’re going with the seven-course tasting menu,” Goro informed him. “Out of all the options, the turbo is a must for me. What about you?”
Akira glanced over the selection of dishes. There was an obvious choice to get under Goro’s skin. “The chocolate souffle.”
Goro rolled his eyes. “You would come to a two Michelin star restaurant and prioritize the fucking dessert.”
“Funny, I distinctly remember you reviewing a lot of pastries and cakes on your blog,” Akira teased, propping his chin on his fist.
“I had an image to uphold back then,” Goro grumbled. “You know I didn’t actually care for them.”
“Then you won’t mind if I take the last course all to myself?”
If glares could kill, Akira would be a dead man twice over.
The waiter came by shortly after, and Akira let Goro take the lead on selecting the rest of the courses. He was pleased to hear Goro choose the souffle and had to hide his smile behind his hand lest their dinner became a triple homicide.
When their first course arrived, Goro beat him to the dish, cutting a small piece of fish and offering it to Akira. “Want to try it?”
Akira recognized the challenge for what it was. He never backed down from a challenge.
Akira leaned forward, closing his lips over the delicate piece of meat without breaking eye contact with Goro. Slowly, he pulled off the fork, his tongue pressed up against the metal prongs underneath to wipe it clean.
“I will choke you with this if you don’t behave.”
“You promise?”
It earned him a kick under the table.
Not to be outdone, even with the ridiculous nature of the challenge presented, Akira took his time to savor his bite, pulling together the most outlandish review he possibly could.
“Delicious,” he declared after swallowing. “The skin had just the right amount of crispiness, while the meat itself was moist and cooked to perfection. The flavor… was that ponzu I detected?” “Yuzu,” Goro muttered under his breath.
“Its piquancy really sings on the palate.”
“You don’t even know what piquancy means.”
“Yes, I do. You used it on your blog.” Akira winked.
Their banter continued over the next four courses as they shared each plate. Akira, of course, tried to make each of his reviews more ridiculous than the last until he forced Goro to cover his cackling laugh with a cough.
As their dessert was being served, it struck Akira that this was the final meal they were going to have on their trip. This was the last night of their grand adventure, and tomorrow morning, they’d be boarding a plane home. They’d return to their normal lives, their separate beds. He’d no longer see Goro every day, but once, maybe twice, a week if he was lucky.
“I wish we could stay another week,” Akira confessed, setting aside his spoon in the empty souffle bowl between them. “I’ve had a really great time spending every day with you and every night these last two weeks. I don’t want it to end.”
“Akira,” Goro said more seriously, also setting his spoon in the empty bowl. “It doesn’t have to.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know I don’t say it enough, but I value your presence in my life,” Goro began, holding Akira’s gaze. “I know we don’t always see eye to eye on everything, but you give me perspective when I need it most. I know I’m not easy to get along with. I know how abrasive and blunt I can be, and I don’t plan on changing. I don’t censor myself for anyone anymore, and it means a great deal to me that you accept me for who I am, and… that you haven’t given up on me when everyone in my life has.”
Akira’s heart raced.
“I’m not about to spend another night without you. I want you to move in with me.”
“As your roommate, or…?”
“Not as my roommate, you idiot,” Goro said with as much tenderness as one might say I love you. “As my partner,” he clarified. “My new apartment is more than big enough for the two of us. There is a spare bedroom that can be your space instead of an office if you aren’t comfortable sharing mine just yet. I know this is a big step in our relationship, so I understand if you need time to—”
“Okay.”
“Okay? Just like that?”
“Just like that.” Akira smiled warmly, the kind he knew would make Goro’s knees weak.
“You don’t even want to take time to consider—”
“Goro, there is no doubt in my mind after that heartfelt proposal.” Akira reached across the table and laced their fingers together as Goro’s cheeks turned bright pink. “I want to be your live-in boyfriend.”
“Don’t be juvenile,” Goro muttered, the tips of his ears turning the same color as his cheeks and yanking his hand away. Apparently, that had been too much. “Live-in partner. Don’t make me regret this.”
The sun had long set by the time they exited the restaurant, hand in hand. They weaved around other couples taking selfies and street vendors attempting to sell their trinkets to novice tourists beneath the Eiffel Tower, heading back to their hotel.
“Oh, by the way…” Goro broke the hold on their hands and reached into his suit jacket, pulling out a knife. With a smirk, he added, “For your little collection.”
“Wh—how did you—?”
“Akira,” Goro said flatly, “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you blatantly stealing before me for a week? I know about the spoon in your pocket, too.” He tapped Akira’s suit jacket with the knife.
“It’s for you.” Akira pulled out the spoon, turning it over in his hands. “I’ve been collecting them for you. As a gift, for your new place. Keepsake type thing to remember our trip.”
“Oh…” Goro’s voice was tight when he spoke again. “Still a sentimental fool, I see.”
“Your sentimental fool,” Akira reminded him, tucking away both the spoon and knife. Carefully.
Goro slid his hand back into Akira’s and said, “Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t taken any knives yet.”
“I didn’t think they’d get past TSA. Getting arrested again was not on our trip itinerary.”
They reached the end of the garden when the crowds in the garden gasped, causing Goro to peer over his shoulder and stop.
“Akira, look.”
Akira glanced back, and his jaw dropped. The Tower had lit up. Hundreds of thousands of tiny lights twinkled rapidly, infusing the metal structure with starlight.
“You know there’s one more thing I need to steal before we leave Paris,” Akira said quietly.
Goro’s eyes met his, an inquisitive spark dancing in them alongside the shimmering lights of the Tower. “What’s that?”
With a flourish, Akira pulled Goro in close, sliding a hand up Goro’s jaw to guide him to Akira’s mouth. “Another kiss.”
As it turned out, Akira stole Goro’s breath away, too.