Archive of Our Own

At the mention of his idol Goro's eyebrows twitch but he doesn't let the obvious deviation tactic deceive him, crossing his arms and pointing at the maid dress hung meticulously over the handle of Futaba's closet. "We already made a unanimous decision: maid dress for the girls, butler suit for the boys. I couldn't simply just choose to change my outfit, anyways—"

"Already got the OK from everyone, don't worry on that front," infuriatingly Futaba merely waves him away, sinking more comfortably into her gamer chair. "Plus, that was only unanimous because half of the class was missing that day."

His eyebrows doesn't have time to come down from its place his forehead. "You and Kasumi were the only ones who couldn't attend that day, Kasumi because she had a cold, you because you thought going school was pointless on a club day."

Futaba thinks about it, and nods. "You're right. At least seventy-five percent of the class was missing that day. Anyways, people don't have any sort of problem with you in a maid outfit. If anything, the class president is delighted that it would bring people to our exhibit. Crossdressing Detective Prince? Nobody could possibly match our level of exquisite."

Goro has to think hard not to let the pampering get to him. "I'm sure you'll be very good in a maid outfit, Futaba, I'll root for you in the kitchen!"

"Come on, you like garnering attention! That's your superpower! You offline, me online. That's why we were so unstoppable when we worked together. You remember?"

Of course he remembers working together with Futaba at the beginning that kickstarted his career. How Futaba with her computing skills—which she learned through hacking the government sites for the remnants of her mother's research because Wakaba rarely brought work home with the twins at home—found out corruption in various corners of society, and Goro

Wait. "Are you trying to manipulate me using Medjed!? This is a new low even for you, Futaba Sakura."

"Oh well, I tried," the girl shrugs and yawns, stretching her limbs. "I didn't want to take this trump card out, but..." She pauses dramatically, looking up from the screens. The fluorescent light of the room reflects off her glasses and gives her a villainous aura. "Kurusu-senpai would like it."

Goro groans. "Stop it, you. There's just no way you can prove that."

Futaba's eyes shine brilliantly behind her glasses. "Oh yes, I can! Because I have pictures. How's that for evidence, detective?"

No way. No fucking way. "Why in the world would he be crossdressing? It has to be a lie, you've photoshopped it or something, I refuse to believe it—"

"If it's photoshop, then it's done by someone with killer artistic skills exceeding Inari. Plus, even without that, you know he orders maids already," Futaba shrugs. "I've seen one who goes to his room once a week-ish. He definitely likes it."

He can't help himself, finally garnering Akira-senpai's attention is too much a rare instance that he can skip out on it only to preserve his dignity. Surely, to have Akira's full attention instead of having Goro be one of the twenty people he has an ongoing deal with would be worth the little dent in his pride? He fidgets with his glove, feeling his face heat up, and stutters out, "f-f-f-f-fine. But I get pictures of senpai crossdressing."

His twin's expression can only be described as demonic. "Oh, definitely. Those pictures are a waste for just me and a bunch of old guys in a bar to see."

Well, Goro thinks as he fidgets in the frilly skirt before the opening, the room bustling with energy as his other class mates set up the tables and prepare to greet guests, if this goes as horribly as I have predicted, at least the pictures of Akira-senpai crossdressing were worth this. 

There is a very, very long line by the maid cafe by the time Akira arrives there with the takoyaki made by his class (terrible, but Haru going for the red one and eating it surprisingly well was certainly interesting, to say.) Still, with Futaba, Kasumi and Goro all participating in the cafe he couldn't exactly skip out on the first year's exhibits—especially when the messages from them (specifically Futaba) were turning more and more agitated every second he was not in their presence. So, he sent away the childhood friends and the busy third-years on their way and sunk into the long line all by himself, yawning indolently as he messed with his phone. The background noise blurs into a nice buzz, and when it gets a bit too boring and he's near the entrance, he flicks against the lock screen of his phone to send Futaba a quick message.

YOU: Why is the line so long

FUTABA: u dnt kno ?

YOU: Yeah?

FUTABA: he didnt txt u???

FUTABA: if thats the case i dnt have the r8s 2 tell u myself

YOU: Actually I'm almost at the entrance now

FUTABA: GOOD

"This way!" A cheerful maid greeted him, leading him to a table covered with white frilly fabric, lit by a small electronic candle. "Just one, I'm assuming?"

"Yup," Akira drawled, eyes scanning for any sign of Goro but with how booming the entire class is, it's impossible to notice him anywhere. When the maid brightly hovers in front of him, probably wishing to take his order, he waves his hand away, keeps scanning the room for any, any sign of the particular brown and orange shade. "Actually, I'm here to see a friend."

At that, a bundle of frills and chocolate bounds towards him rashly, pushing away the other maid and taking her place. "That's me! It's me. Nashiko-chan, can you do table 12 instead? I'll take Akira-senpai's order." Goro shouts brightly at the other maid, and Akira breathes out at hearing Goro's usual chipper self. Then he properly looks at the boy he's responsible for.

Sakura Goro is most definitely not his usual self.

Goro is adorned in the same Akihabara-style maid dress complete with a frilly apron and a snowy white ribbon headdress all the other girls are wearing, and the skirt somehow shorter than the other girl's, the generous frills brushing against his upper thigh and showing a peek of his undergarments every time he sways on his feet—the outfit overall very revealing but covering just enough to be a tease. A see-through black stocking covers his thin legs, hiding nothing of the curves, and under, a pair of sleek block heel boots. To finish up, there is a pair of cat ears sitting on his head, the white fur realistic and high-quality.

Akira's mouth immediately goes dry, and all his higher functions shut down in order to send more blood down to his dick. For a good minute he just gapes at the brunette eagerly anticipating his reply, then barely chokes out, "uh, the maid outfit suits you, Goro."

Goro immediately brightens up at his words, hugging the menu pad he's holding. "Thank you, senpai! It's been a last-minute decision because Futaba didn't want to wear it, and they thought it would be a great form of advertisement. I thought it'd be awkward on me considering I'm a boy, but everyone's been telling me how well I wear it!"

Note to self: Buy a bunch of electronic stuff from Akihabara for Futaba. "And... Er... The cat ears?" Akira questions, waving his hand over his head.

Goro perks. "Oh, these?" The maid hums, bringing a hand to play with the puffy headband. "Kasumi gave it to me as a gift! She got rabbit ears, Futaba wanted the dog ears but they ordered three so there was one left.

"No, of course not. You're adorable." At that, a blush rises to Goro's face. Akira can't help himself—provoking him is just far too easy and fun to pass out on. "Anyways, the order?"

"Of course, master!" Goro is chipper as he shouts, getting the pen ready to take the order.

Ignoring what the title does to his gut, Akira feigns leisure as he smirks right up to Goro, looking right into his eyes. "It's my first time coming around here. What's the best food here, darling?"

"None can ever compare to what you make, Senpai," Goro fidgets, face turning even redder at the stray comment. "Honestly? Actual food being compared to this is an offense to food, forget comparing it to Leblanc's high standards. It's a health hazard. By that, I mean it's really bad."

Yet Goro is out here and Futaba is inside, Akira can't help but note. He's not surprised about it, though; despite being a Sakura, Goro has been horrifically appalling when it came to cooking even after years of extensive cooking lessons under Sojiro's guidance. Instead Goro, to make up for being a Sakura with a disaster hand in the kitchen, has become a very good taster over the years, developing a sophisticated palate. "Fine then, give me something that's bearable," Akira requests gently, already knowing that anything passable to Goro is pretty decent to anyone else.

"The place that was supposed to supply us with macarons couldn't come through, so I chose the replacement so that should be fine," Goro mumbles lowly.

"Then that's what I'll have," Akira smiles up to Goro. The younger boy hesitates to leave Akira's presence, but in a hurry to bring the food, he rushes towards to the back of the curtains, leaving Akira alone to brood on the fact that Goro is in a fucking maid outfit. Calling him master. He's going to fantasize about this for months, no, years. 

YOU: what the fuck

FUTABA: u saw? lmao

YOU: I owe you my life

FUTABA: gross

FUTABA: yeah ur a maidfker69

FUTABA: bring the clothes back in one piece

FUTABA: actually u kno what

FUTABA: keep it

YOU: Turn off the bugs in my room

FUTABA: first thing ill do when i get home dw

FUTABA: never again

FUTABA: never again...

Along with a shout and a yell that Akira can pinpoint to belonging to the other Sakura, Goro is pushed out of the back room and back into the wild hall, with macarons and a few other dishes in tow. Akira watches fondly as the maid-turned detective carefully balances the many plates, handing them to other tables and finally reaching to his final guest with two plates. 

"I only ordered one," Akira murmurs amusedly as Goro grumbles and sets two dishes in front of him, one containing meticulously designed french snacks and other containing slightly charred toast that he's about ninety percent sure is only here because Futaba messed up cooking it.

"On the house," Goro rolls his eyes at the toast, then at the cookie he brightens up. "But the macarons are really good, senpai."

When he tries the offered dessert Akira decides that they're definitely up Goro's palate: expensive but delicious. The toast is exactly what he expects from its looks: someone used too high temperature so the outsides are roasted while the insides is still cold. "Tell Futaba to lower the temperature and cook it more thoroughly, it's still cold inside." 

FUTABA: dont tell me how to live my life bitch

FUTABA: my chemistry is flawless smh

Akira turns off his phone and turns his attention to the maid in front of him. "Anyways, Goro, I know you haven't been able to enjoy the festival because you've been helping out the class with the exhibit. Want me to show you around real quick? I've looked around everywhere with Ryuji and Ann, so I should be well-informed enough to give you a tour."

He immediately brightens up at "Would you, senpai? Oh, I think I've done enough for break time!"

It is only then Akira realizes how many eyes are on Goro as of this moment. Of course, he's expected a portion of the long line to be due to Goro—after all, he's managed to gather a huge fanbase with his talent and adorableness—but he didn't know that everyone in this cafe would be here for him.

"Hey, maybe it's a bad ide—" one of the other maid girls start, but Akira just grabs onto Goro's wrist and pulls him out before anyone can object to it. Goro stumbles on his heels but quickly realizes why, and shakes his hand out of Akira's grasp and they run towards the exit together.

They eventually lose the whole crowd, although it takes a lot of sharp cuts and hiding in the restrooms in between. Goro's stockings gets caught on a thorn a few times but they're not in the position to stop and carefully remove them, so they get torn in small bits and pieces, but elsewise, they manage to escape unscathed, even Goro's headdress still fixed tightly over his head.

"I should switch out of this if I don't want to be found, I'm so conspicuous walking around in a dress," Goro mumbles as he tries to pull his skirt down to cover more of his legs. "Not to mention the shoes are uncomfortable..."

"No. You should keep them on." The reply comes out strained and desperate. "Please? I'll make sure you won't get found out."

Goro is skeptic until his eyes trail down to Akira's pants, and the obvious bulge there. "S-Senpai?" He mutters, looking slightly bewildered and shook, but it transitions immediately into elation. "You're so excited," he whispers into a low voice so nobody but them would be able to hear. "This is your type of thing..."

"You're beautiful and absolutely delectable no matter what clothes you're wearing, you don't need to be told that," Akira argues, but his voice falls flat. He breathes out, "but this is my specific weakness, and seeing you in a maid dress is like... I don't even know. I feel like I'm going to burst."

At the words, Goro hesitates. Plays with his white gloves. Bites his lips. Akira pinpoints the moment he decides, when his hand gathers up to a fist around the frills of his skirt. "I'll keep wearing it. For you."

Good boy. Akira ruffles his hair, careful not to dislocate the headdress and the cat ears planted on the brunette. "Okay. First of all? How do you feel about takoyaki? Not the good fancy and expensive ones, obviously, but there's this takoyaki from my class called russian roulette that's basically a 'toss the bomb' game between friends..."

"I'm glad you enjoyed," Akira bows as he leads him out, going to the subway station with footsteps lighter than usual.

It's good that they've enjoyed themselves in the school exhibits, but the sun is passing by the horizons by the time they arrive the subway station. That by itself wouldn't be so bad, considering the nice orange-yellow hue the sky is painted is breathtaking, but it means they have to bear through the hell train for a solid hour and a half-ish with Goro still adorned in his frilly skirt and corset. Akira grunts as they pass the tollgate and enter the metro, silently waiting for the train to arrive.

Meanwhile, the innocent and idealist Goro seems to have none of the worries that plagues Akira. He's ecstatic, clinging to his senpai with both his hands, eyes flying around the place. "It's so odd, I come here every day but I've never been here at this time. Always been so busy with detective work, and Sae-san insisted she drives me home after I'm finished. There are so many people! It's interesting."

Ah yes, Goro's hobby: people watching. Amused, he gently asks, "what is?"

He never gets reply, because the next moment the train arrives, and they're separated by the tsunami of people despite the arm lock they're in. Akira calls out to Goro feverishly as he tries to push people aside to reach him before he'd disappear, but the car is just too packed for that;  the sheer density prevents him from progressing any further. 

"Fuck," he whispers under his breath, eyes scanning furiously for any sign of the perky brunette, but even with his above-average height, he can't see anything in the busy subway. He's always found it adorable that Goro only came to his chest, but in this particular set of circumstances his kouhai's short height is only a detriment. 

All he can do is wait for the train's crowd to thin, so he clings onto a handrail and simply waits. He could simply call for Goro using his phone, but Goro's phone is in his school locker ("These things don't have pockets, senpai! What if I get robbed by a pickpocketer? Sojiro-san has already been doing so much for me, I don't want to burden him even more...") which Futaba would have been holding hostage in order to extort the cleaning session from him, so they returned without bothering to retrieve it; Goro had been fine with going back for it the day after.

Another stop—this time a transition site—comes, and a huge amount of people exit and Akira finds Goro then: in the corner of the train, pressed against the wall, head pushed down and eyes forced shut. Akira takes broad steps to immediately cross over to where they are, and he pushes the man that's cornering his kouhai harshly and places himself between them. The man attempts to mumble out apology or some other bullshit when he's clearly been unapologetic about making Goro so uncomfortable, so Akira narrows a strident glare at the man's direction, holding himself taller to antagonize him. "What do you think you're doing?" He growls, and the man stops stuttering, immediately turns on his heel and flees.

The train starts to move after that, only sparsely crowded now, but he steps forward to shield Goro away from others. "You okay?" He asks gently, brushing some hair out of the shaking boy's eyes. "He didn't do anything to you, right?"

"No, he was just coming too close. I thought it was because of the crowd, but he kept coming closer when the people were clearing out. I tried pushing him away, but he wasn't getting a hint and trying to feel me up..." Goro shakes his head, shivering. "Why do people think I'm so easy? Is it the height or the length of my hair? I'm only a year younger than you, senpai, and they listen to you and not me, and I'm the detective..."

The maid dress, Goro. You are wearing a fetish outfit in public. "I'm sure you'll get taller in time, but you'll need to eat more than an apple," Akira hums as he ruffles Goro's hair, to the younger student's dismay. "Let's go home now, shall we?"

Goro's edges soften at the words. "Yeah, let's go home."

"Welcome to my humble abode," Akira leads Goro into the attic of Leblanc, careful arm behind his waist to assist his kouhai walking up the stairs.

"I can't believe you live here, senpai," Goro's nose crinkles as he sneezes at the dust. "You need a friendly roomba to help you clean up." Goro cocks his head as his eyes turn playful. "Or... I'm You need me to help you clean up, senpai?"

Snort. "I'm not paying you so you can clean my room."

An eyebrow cock. "You're not paying me at all, senpai."

"Master. I request to be referred to appropriately."

"Master," Goro murmurs breathy, admiringly. "Master Akira, what do you want me to do, sir?"

"Well," Akira can come up with a few ideas, but they're all perverted. His eyes crawl over Goro's prone body hungrily, his lean legs with the torn stockings, and his gloves. Then he snaps his glance up to meet Goro in the eyes. "You're a maid. I'm tired after a busy day. Bring me some tea." That's the only drink Akira trusts Goro with; even Goro cannot fuck up putting a teabag in a lukewarm cup. 

Goro is even more tired than him, being the server for the cafe, but if he feels any annoyance over this fact, he doesn't show it. He just places his hands over his stomach and bows. "Of course, master." 

The waiting is absolutely excruciating. Akira almost regrets starting the whole foreplay, thinking that he should have slammed Goro against his mattress and had his way with him. Regrets are meaningless, though—all Akira can do is shake and wait for Goro to return, impatiently tapping the mattress he's sitting on in the meantime. 

Goro hums as he returns with the tea—just the teacup and the liquid, holding the saucer carefully as he ascends in order to return to Akira's presence. Be careful, Akira mouths, but Goro throws him off, scoffing, boldly crossing over the room skillfully despite the heels. When he is about to reach the end, however, he places his left foot in front of his right, causing him to collapse in a messy crash. Akira manages to catch the coaster and the cup before it shatters onto the floor, but the motion dips the cup sideways, causing the contents to slip out and cause a mess all over Akira's shirt and pants.

"Oh no! Master!" Goro gasps dramatically, covering his face with his gloved hands. Akira tuts, his fingers pressing into the wet patch blooming on the upper spot of his thigh and on his crotch. "What will I do, I'm so clumsy!" He gasps tellingly, but the hand covering his face isn't enough to hide the grin emerging on him.  Oh, that little shit. Like he didn't do that on purpose.

"I'll clean it up," Akira tries to go for the tissues from his table, but Goro stops him with a shy hand on his thigh.

"No, no, it's my mistake as a lowly maid, I couldn't make my master move for my own mistakes... Allow me, sir," Goro declares, pushing Akira's legs apart and slamming down to his knees, to Akira's surprise. He mouths the wet fabric, tasting the tea with kitten licks, and mewls, "let me clean you up, sir."

Akira has no idea from what porn Goro has learned this, but he is thanking the heavens as the maid puts himself to work, his hands clasped tightly behind his back and his mouth busy sucking away the sticky droplets away. He can feel the hot heat of Goro's mouth and each swipe of his tongue even with the fabric between them, and his cock hardens underneath with every talented move of Goro's mouth. Once Goro's done with the left half of the fabric, Akira's hard-on is straining against the fabric, begging to be freed.

"You better take responsibility for your actions, Sakura-kun," Akira growls, tempted to grab Goro's hair and force him down on his dick. Eventually he places his two fists on his side, curious as to where Goro will lead this—he rarely leads their encounters, content to let his senpai take complete control.

"The cleaning isn't done yet, master," is what Goro offers him before he once again dips his head down so that his lips are pressed against the other half of the messy pool. His fingers dig into the hard cock as his mouth dutifully continues to do its work, lapping away the bath of soaked liquid. When Akira's hands find their way into Goro's hair, carefully arranged around the cat ears still adorned at the tap and digging into the brunette's scalp, Goro holds them tightly and sets them aside, lips twitching up to a smirk. "So impatient, master. I'm still cleaning up."

"If you keep that up, you'll make even a bigger mess," Akira hisses, voice strained.

Goro blinks up innocently, sucking away the last of the drops. His lips makes an obscene sound as he puckers them, making the finishing touch. Akira is equally soaked as before, but now with Goro's spit compared to the lukewarm tea he's brought, he realizes. It is only the sheer force of will not wanting to ruin things for Goro and him so early by coming in his pants that he restrains himself, clenching his teeth so hard that he's sure that he has strained something. 

"I'm done with cleaning, Master," Goro declares when he's finished with the pants smugly, knowing how Akira is at the wit's end by what he just did. 

"Naughty maid, you left out a spot," Akira sneers, barely hiding the desperation at the tips of his fingers by grabbing Goro and slamming his bulge right against his kouhai's face. The contact, even after two layers between them, feels fucking amazing that Akira audibly moans. "Are you going to leave this unfinished?" 

"Of course not, sir, not when you've been taking such a good care of me," Goro flutters his eyelashes for emphasize, then dips his fingers to undo the loops on Akira's belt. He feigns coyness as he skillfully pulls the belt away and paws against the zippers furiously. When Akira's cock is finally freed from the underwear, Goro moans with a heavy flush like he can't help himself, "senpai..."

It's not the first time Goro's seen Akira's cock, not even the tenth, but the way Goro wraps his hands shyly around them and pulls his whole body forward for a taste of precome, eyes glistening with reverence is almost enough to trick Akira into thinking that this is their first time all over again. When Akira brushes the back of his bare hand on Goro's heated cheeks, the pair of his red eyes flick up to meet his own and with their gazes linked, Goro descends down, wrapping his flush lips around Akira's cockhead. After a few minutes of sucking on it and playing with the slit Goro starts to swallow around the shaft, taking it deeper and deeper into his cavity.

Goro's not a virgin, but Akira's the only exposure to sex he has; as deep as he tries to take it, he chokes hard when the cockhead hits the back of his throat, tears springing to his eyes and looking up like a needy puppy. "You want to take it deeper?" Akira breathlessly enquires, and Goro gives a tiny nod with half of Akira's cock rammed into his mouth. "I'll teach you sometime later, but for now you can just do it how you always do it," Akira soothes him, and Goro begrudgingly takes it out the entire way.

"Yes, master," Goro's voice is windy as he replies, then returns to his work: licking up the whole thing until it's coated with saliva, gripping the bottom half with his hand and taking the rest into his mouth, hollowing his mouth for a good suction. He rocks back and forth on his knees, eyebrows gathered in concentration and gaze determined. Well, good boys deserve rewards—Akira kicks away his own shoes and surreptitiously slips a socked foot inside Goro's maid dress as Goro continues to enthusiastically oscillate on Akira's dick, the captivating warmth rapidly pulling away and returning. He nudges around, looking for Goro's cock, and once he comes contact with it, he outlines the edges with his toes, enjoying the low vibration the touch elicits.

When Akira properly raises his foot to step down on the detective's sensitive flesh, the low moaning turn to a surprised choke as Goro's rhythm breaks and he lowers himself far too deep, forcing far too much of Akira's cock into his mouth. Akira moans around the heat that completely envelops his shaft until the moment he realizes that Goro is choking—then he quickly curls a hand on those soft locks and pulls him off, not to hurt him.

"No, I can do it," Goro shivers under his grasp, taking heavy heaves, "I can... Master... Senpai... I cn' do 't..."

Goro's sheer eagerness to please is excruciating, and his dick begs to take him up for the deal, but this is his kouhai, someone that's been placed under his care. Akira only hums, shaking his head and lazily stroking his spit-slick cock over Goro's head until he comes all over Goro's face, the semen making a mess of his silky hair and dripping down the chin and making a visible puddle on the black skirt. Akira feels Goro double over as he does, letting out a loud keen, and Akira feels a wet splotch against the bottom of his feet.

Oh.

"Goro?" A low groan and a sleepy murmur is the only reply he gets—which really means that Goro came, since Goro's reaction to orgasms tended to be this. "Goro, oh, Goro. You can't sleep like this." Thankfully it's past the time Sojiro closed the cafe, which means it's just the two of them. "At least a shower? It'll be all sticky and yucky in the morning. We can wash up the best we can in the Leblanc restroom."

One of Goro's eyes crack open, just halfway. His eyes are strangely out of focus as he drowsily demands with his two arms up, "carry me, senpai..."

How could he say no, with his diligent care asking? So Akira carries Goro downstairs, bridal-style, yawning to himself. As Goro breathes out soundlessly, curling into Akira's chest, Akira thinks that he has to be the luckiest senpai in the entire world.