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Like all things involving Yusuke, it happened rather spontaneously.
Over their first month together, they’d gradually built up to the act through smaller, though not any less meaningful gestures. A comforting kiss on the forehead after another tiring shift at the Crossroads. A congratulatory kiss on the cheek after an aced exam. A kiss on the knee when empathy couldn’t be put into words. Lazy neck kisses in the early hours of the morning; too lazy for the trio to move their faces any further than where they lay against each other.
Besides the label, not much had changed about their relationship. Many of the Phantom Thieves already assumed they’d dated before, and that their initial falling out was actually a breakup. So it came as quite the surprise when, during a dinner reservation (courtesy of Okumura-san), they made their announcement.
“You’re telling me the throuple is like, a new development!?” Takamaki exclaimed.
“Oooh- yeah, the longing makes a lot more sense now.” Sakura pushed up her glasses with a smirk. “I should’ve suspected you didn’t have the guts for that, Crow.”
“Futaba,” Nijima reprimanded. “However, I admittedly thought the same.”
Okumura nodded. “I didn’t want to assume, but…”
“I was quite disheartened when I heard the news,” Yoshizawa added. “I’d really rooted for you three. Though now, it seems, your separation was tragic for a different reason. I’m glad you were able to work things out.”
Amamiya looked around the room confusedly. “Wait, so, was I the only one he told…?”
“Yes,” Goro sighed, “you were. And thankfully, you’re good at keeping secrets.”
Morgana lifted his head from Amamiya’s lap. “I knew too, y’know.” The group turned their attention to him, and he responded with a snicker. “Mrew-heh-heh! Never underestimate how perceptive I can be~”
“Damn, were we really that obvious?” Ryuji’s question was met with another laugh from Sakura. “Hey! You don’t gotta act so high and mighty ‘bout it!”
Amamiya spun his fork like a drumstick. “Didn’t you say the same about Goro during our class trip to the studio? I swear, it’s always the vocal ones who end up catching feelings…”
“Cut me some slack, will ya!? I obviously don’t believe that anymore!”
Yoshizawa watched the fork intently, tapping her own against the table. “Coming from someone who wasn’t properly acquainted with you all until much later, you’ve certainly changed a lot. It’s hard to imagine everyone as anything but allies.”
As the thieves exchanged playful taunts, Goro sat to the side, silently fuming. It may have been harmless fun for them, but for him, it was a grueling reminder of yet another secret he’d failed to hide. It took years to carefully curate his identity, only revealing whatever vague details would garner him the most sympathy. To give the masses a ‘perfect victim’ to project onto, and to keep Shido off his trail.
But Shido always knew, and so did the thieves. In that cold, damp engine room, Goro was forced to confront the fact that he’d never been as good of a liar as he’d thought.
He couldn’t even stop himself from falling in love with the enemy.
Now, Goro just wanted to go home—a home he still hesitated to call his own, though he’d spent more than half his days there over that month. He kept a spare toothbrush next to theirs, a seemingly mundane detail that made all the difference for him.
Yusuke was the first to notice his discomfort, quietly asking if he needed some air.
“Well, you appear to be enjoying yourself, and I’d hate to get in the way of—”
Yusuke narrowed their eyes. “The truth, Goro.” They’d studied their boyfriend’s demeaner long enough to tell when he was masking.
“Okay, fine. I hate it here. The other patrons are painfully pretentious, and our waiter won’t stop giving Ryuji dirty looks. It’s rude, and highly unprofessional.” He remained silent about the thieves’ comments. That had always been their dynamic, and he didn’t want to further impose on a group he already felt left out of. Not that he deserved their friendship to begin with.
Yusuke apparently understood, as they suddenly rose from their seat, interrupting the broader conversation. “Oh! How careless of me to forget,” they said. “I have a shift tonight.”
“Huh? I thought you didn’t start until—” Goro lightly elbowed Ryuji in the side, and he immediately backpedaled. “Uh- no, no, you’re right.”
“Care to accompany me, Goro? I’m sure Mama Lala would appreciate a surprise visit.”
“Alright.” He donned his jacket, along with his best tv-worthy smile. “Sorry to leave you all on such short notice. Thank you for the invitation, Okumura-san.”
Ryuji followed close behind. “Great food, super stuffed, see you again soon!”
Amamiya raised a brow, clearly not buying any of it. I’ll message him later.
They exited the restaurant, and Goro took a long, belated breath.
Ryuji shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’d ask why you wanted to leave so badly, but I wasn’t exactly feelin’ too hot in there myself.”
“Darling—” Darling. Goro exhaled, breath shaking. They’d only recently started calling him that, and it caught him off-guard every time. “You really should follow up with Haru. What you described to me was simply unacceptable.”
Ryuji scoffed. “You don’t gotta hide the details for my sake. I’m used to bein’ treated differently in fancy places. It sucks, but I ain’t gonna let it get to me.”
“I admire your resilience,” Goro replied. “However, I won’t let this behavior go unaddressed. Though Okumura-san may not own the establishment, she does have considerable influence over it. Just look at Morgana—despite their rule against animals, she got them to make an exception for ‘Mona-chan’.”
“Heh, don’t let Mona hear you callin’ him that.”
On the train, Goro chose a spot between his partners. He’d yet to fully rid himself of doubt about their relationship, mind absently wandering toward the thought that maybe they wanted to sit together this time, and I’ve gotten in the way. This thought was quickly corrected by an arm around his shoulders and a chin atop his head. No, that’s not true. They sat down before I did. They want me here.
With one intrusion resolved, another appeared in its place. I can’t always rely on them for comfort. What happens when they aren’t around? When their home isn’t mine? Goro spent most of his life believing he was better off alone. Now that he wasn’t, he never wanted to go back.
“I have less than an hour until my shift starts,” Yusuke said, checking their phone. “Which wouldn’t give me much time to prepare before turning around. Mama Lala is fairly lenient, though; perhaps she’d let me clock in early tonight. In that case,” they nestled further into Goro’s hair, thoroughly ruffling it up, “I’d arrive home early as well.”
“Sounds like a plan. You gonna change lines at the next stop?” Ryuji asked. “‘S comin’ up in a couple blocks.”
They nodded. “I shall see you both soon.”
The train slowed, and Yusuke leaned over to kiss Ryuji goodbye. Goro couldn’t help but feel a little jealous watching his boyfriend smile against their lips, though he understood the reason behind their hesitation. They were afraid of losing him again, of “going too fast” and scaring him away, so they’d left it up to Goro to initiate.
And then, for whatever reason, Yusuke made a mistake.
“Farewell, my love~” Another kiss. “Darling~” Before he could react, Yusuke tilted his chin up and kissed him softly. The brush of deft fingers on his skin, of glossed lips on his own. Goro nearly wept at the overwhelming sensation—somehow, a touch so gentle carried with it the sort of love he once believed had been snuffed out for good.
Still yet to process their mistake, Yusuke stood, casually adjusting their collar like any other goodbye. Ryuji, on the other hand, had done more than enough processing. He turned to Goro, slack-jawed, unable to respond beyond a confused, almost strangled sound.
“Hwuh…?”
The doors opened, and Yusuke stepped out. They stared serenely at the platform for a moment, then froze, slapping a hand over their mouth. It finally dawned on them.
“I cannot believe I- I’m so, so sorry—”
The doors closed.
Neither said a word the rest of the way home.
*****
Like all things involving Ryuji, it happened rather passionately.
He didn’t need to ask. Goro rode the line back with him, his own apartment key collecting lint in his pocket. The place was barely furnished, barely personalized, so if he ever decided to drop off the face of the earth, it wouldn’t take much effort. There were no photos on his fridge keeping him anchored to Shibuya, only a list of fifteen-minute meal preps and medications he’d sometimes remember to take.
When that prey’s urge to hide away from the world no longer tempted him, Goro saw his apartment for what it really was: the prison sentence he thought he deserved. For now, at least, Akechi Goro was done hiding.
They entered the common area, and Ryuji patted the space beside him on their hideous green couch (that Takamaki couldn’t talk Yusuke out of buying). “I understand if you’re upset. I can’t apologize for them, and I definitely can’t tell you how to feel…” Whatever point he wanted to make fell short in his mind, and he stopped talking.
“I’m not upset,” Goro replied, setting the record straight. “Shocked, sure, but not upset. Are you concerned I might… leave…?”
“I- I’m not sayin’ you would, I just… I dunno. Maybe.” Ryuji cringed at his blunt phrasing. “I keep gettin’ caught up in the fear that, when I wake up in the mornin’, you won’t be there. Either you’ve run off again, or this was all a dream, and you’d never returned to begin with. Or… or you ain’t even alive.” His voice cracked. “I worry that, someday, I’ll do somethin’ that’ll make you realize comin’ back ain’t worth it.”
“Did I ever do anything to give you that impression? If so, I sincerely apologize.”
“Nah, it’s just my stupid brain makin’ shit up. ‘S not your fault.”
“Ryuji.” Goro’s tone was harsh, yet caring. “Your brain is not, and has never been ‘stupid’. You aren’t stupid. You don’t deserve to be mistreated by waitstaff, nor by me. My past actions certainly haven’t lent themselves to a favorable outcome, and you have every right to believe I’d choose not to stay.”
“So… are you?”
“I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.” That seemed to ease some of the tension in Ryuji’s shoulders. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. It would be foolish to give that up. The real question, however, is whether you’re happy.”
“You kiddin’!? ‘Course I’m happy! This past month has been an emotional rollercoaster, and there ain’t no one else I’d rather experience it with. Seein’ you two first thing when I walk in the apartment… it’s impossible to describe the feelin’ exactly, but if heaven exists, that’s it.”
Ryuji ran a hand through his short, dark hair, running out of breath as he stumbled over his words. Face flushed and glistening with sweat, lips slightly swollen from relentless worrying—he was a wreck, and Goro only had one thought in his mind.
I want to kiss him. I need to kiss him.
“God, I wanna kiss you so bad right now.”
To hear Ryuji say it aloud was another beast entirely.
“Then what are you w-waiting for?” He tried to sound as smooth as possible, but his technique was rusty, and his voice cracked at the worst possible moment.
Ryuji leaned forward, and Goro instinctively moved back, half-expecting him to faint instead. Ryuji let out a laugh like a deflating balloon, understandably confused by the distance. “Wait- waitwaitwait, hold on. Am I gonna, or should you…?”
“Sorry, sorry, reflexes. You may continue.”
Goro squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself, and Ryuji laughed again. He probably looked no different from a grade-schooler having their first kiss on the playground.
And though it embarrassed him a bit to admit, they really were his first. It was one of the few things he didn’t have to lie about. Goro initially spread the rumor to maintain an idyllic reputation, leaving him perpetually ‘open’ in the eyes of his fans. In actuality, he’d never gotten close enough to anyone for the desire to form. Now, said desire was consuming him whole.
The cushions shifted against Ryuji’s weight, and with a single touch, that overwhelming euphoric sensation returned.
Goro’s expression had yet to change—cheeks puffed out, lips puckered—which his boyfriend apparently thought was hilarious. “Snrk- Goro, Goro, babe,” he lightly shook his shoulder. “Are you even breathin’?”
His reply couldn’t have sounded more forced. “Of course I am! Get on with it already!”
“Wow. Just- wow. You’re gonna need a lotta practice before Yu gets home.”
Similarly to their girlfriend, Ryuji tilted Goro’s chin toward him, brushing their lips together. “Turn your head a little- perfect.” That’s better.
Goro’s hands found that short, dark hair, massaging circles in his scalp. Waiting until he’d gotten comfortable, Ryuji’s rested on his waist, slowly mirroring his movements. The brunette relaxed, releasing a small sigh as he instinctively tugged on the spiky strands between his fingers. He was shaking like a leaf, and Ryuji took note of it, pulling away every so often to ensure he wasn’t too overwhelmed.
“You okay? Am I goin’ too fast…?”
“No—it’s better than I could’ve possibly imagined.”
“S-shit, that’s a pretty high bar to set.” He joked, but the statement made his eyes misty. “Yu’s gotta step up their game.”
“You know, kissing didn’t interest me much prior to… this. Us.” Goro bumped his forehead with Ryuji’s. “Quite frankly, I had no idea what anyone saw in it. I still don’t, for the most part. Why shove your tongue down a stranger’s throat? Where’s the connection there?”
“You’re lookin’ at me like I have an answer for that. And I’m honored to no longer be a part of the ‘strangers’ category.”
“Don’t expect any tongue, though. That part will never stop being disgusting.”
Ryuji snorted. “I’ve kissed Yusuke with tongue like, once, and they accidently bit me. Safe to say, it ain’t appealin’ to me either.”
“Okay, wait. Rewind for a moment,” Goro said, dumbfounded. “You can’t just casually bring that up and not elaborate.”
They spent the remainder of the evening firmly planted on that ugly green couch, chatting and arguing through the screen at trashy television shows. What had initially started as Goro’s way of blowing off steam after class eventually became a guilty pleasure for the trio. Though, contrary to how engaged they claimed to be, a typical binge-session often ended in side-tracked conversations that ignored the shows entirely. Rewind, grab another bag of popcorn, and repeat.
Four episodes of Psychic House later—“Can four psychics live together without driving each other crazy?” Answer: no—and Ryuji could hardly keep his eyes open. Goro plucked the remote from his loose grip and turned it off, ignoring his slurred complaints.
“I think we’re both about ready for bed, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yeah, you’re—yawn—prolly right…”
They migrated to the bedroom, changing out of their stuffy, restaurant-ready clothes and into something more comfortable. Goro had left a few shirts of his own there, but often, as was the case that night, he wore one of Ryuji’s. Even when he was “home” alone, those shirts still held a part of him, like the arms currently wrapped around his body.
“Yu should be back soon,” Ryuji whispered. “You wanna bring it up with them tomorrow, or do you got the energy now?”
“I won’t make them wait any longer. I’m sure they’re just as concerned as you were.”
“I could’ve called them, but Mama Lala’s gotta pretty strict no-phones policy, and I dunno if this really counts as an ‘emergency’.”
“‘Hello, just calling to say that your boyfriend doesn’t hate you,’” Goro replied, mimicking an answering machine. “Hmm, sounds like an emergency to me.”
Yusuke arrived about a half-hour later, silently slinking into the room. Goro tracked their expression as they fretted with the buttons on their shirt, a lump forming in his throat at the sight of them so forlorn. Had they thought about it their whole shift? I bet Lala-chan could tell.
He’d always been a light sleeper, and he twisted out of Ryuji’s grip to face them. They stopped undressing, eyes wide, extensive apologies prepared.
“Goro—”
“I’m not upset, and I’m sure as hell not leaving.”
“I…” This gave them enough reassurance to keep unbuttoning their shirt. “Regardless, I’m sincerely sorry for what I did. I don’t know what came over me. I guess it just felt… natural, like I’d done it a hundred times before. But that’s no excuse.”
“You’re fine, Yusuke. Would you like a do-over?”
“A do-over…?” They put on a silk nightgown, which Goro loved the feeling of against his skin, and crawled across the bed toward him.
“Let me rephrase: may I kiss you again?”
They instantly lit up, and, like the boy snoring beside him, Goro was deeply, deeply in love. “Yes, of course you may.”
Goro chuckled, gesturing to Ryuji. “I’ve had some practice since we last saw each other.”
“Oh?”
“I was also advised to be careful around your teeth.”
“Oh…”
He gently carded his fingers through their hair, releasing the tie that held it in place. Despite the tangles that had formed from the stress of the day, Yusuke remained effortlessly beautiful. And somehow, though Goro still had trouble fully wrapping his head around it, they saw the same beauty in him.
Their lips met once more, and this time, there was no hesitation.
*****
Like all things involving these two, every action afterward happened rather naturally.
Over their second month together, they’d exchanged plenty of kisses in plenty of places. Sometimes, the situation called for a kiss on the shoulder; other times, the nose, hand, stomach, and so on. The perfect prescription for whatever ailed—or allured—them most. Whether it was a greeting or a goodbye, a celebration or a loss, an apology or forgiveness, the love never changed.
When Goro’s mind began to wander, insecurities uprooting the rational part of him that knew better, he grounded himself with moments like these: a finger on his chin, a hand in his hair, silk nightgowns and cotton t-shirts and goose-down pillows. Calluses, chapped lips, crow’s feet, and freckles. He couldn’t always rely on his partners for everything, but he could always count on them to be there. In his arms, in his mind, and in his heart.