Work Text:
“You want to make dinner for me, and just talk?”
Akira nodded his head and raised a brow. Goro was giving him a searching look as if the idea of a normal date was completely insane to him. It probably was considering ax throwing and Metaverse fighting were among the list of their usual excursions.
“You don’t wish to engage in a game of chess? Or even checkers?” He questioned, even though the second option made his face scrunch up like he did when he tasted Akira’s spiciest curry. They hadn’t touched chess in a while, mostly because Akechi still always beat him somehow, but that's besides the point.
Goro we are in a relationship, Akira signed in shuwa, shouldn’t we just be able to enjoy dinner and chat like a normal couple?
Goro scoffed and drummed his fingers against the counter. “I think we are far from a
‘normal couple’ Akira.” Goro pointed out, propping the hand not tapping up to rest his head against it. The action made a strand of his honey brown hair fall in his eyes.
Akira tucked the strand behind his ear before flicking him on the nose, resulting in a pretty scowl forming on his boyfriend's face. Even with the death glare he couldn’t hide the pink hue slowly deepening on the tips of his ears. Almost a full year together and Goro still got so easily flustered at the simplest of touches. Affection was clearly something Goro wasn’t privy to for most of his life, leading Akira to give it to him every chance he got. However, that wasn’t his plan for tonight.
Akira waved a hand around like he was trying to air out a bad smell. I guess you are right about that, he relented, but we can’t pretend just for one night?
Goro was still analyzing him with that gaze he often turned on Shadows in the Metaverse when he was determining their weaknesses. Even if he didn’t have his old job anymore he was still a detective at heart. “What is this really about?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and scrutinizing him further as if the answer might appear on Akira’s face.
I just want to have a normal dinner, Akira shrugged, escaping Goro’s piercing glare by wiping a mug behind the counter. He attempted to still his shaking hands.
“Yes, but why?” Goro urged, the fingers thumping against the counter increasing their pace. He had straightened up now, turning his full attention to evaluating Akira’s every mannerism. “And you’ve cleaned that mug five times in the last thirty minutes, I suspect it’s spotless by now.” He gave a knowing quirk of his eyebrow.
Akira sighed and put the mug back in its place. He had a habit of fiddling with things when he was nervous and they both knew it. Goro had even bought him little fidget objects to take with him in public, but he had left those upstairs while he was working.
Akira wished for a moment that his boyfriend wasn’t so perceptive, but he quickly dashed that thought. Goro’s attentiveness was one of the qualities he appreciated about him, most of the time anyway. Akira gave very few expressions, something the thieves often complained about, so having a partner who could read his emotions from the tiniest of hints was helpful. Right now, however, he didn’t want to be studied under Goro’s microscopic gaze. He took a deep breath and returned Goro’s stare.
Is this really such a problem? signed, not bothering to hide his exasperated hand movements.
“Yes!” Goro exclaimed, his hands curling into fists. “You’ve been jittery since I got here, you haven’t spoken a word to me, and you are dodging my questions.” Goro took a deep breath and closed his eyes, something he often did while trying to wrangle in his emotions before they got out of hand. After a few more breaths he opened his eyes again and uncurled his fists a fraction. “You told me you want us to be open with each other, and I’m trying to be communicative. If you don’t tell me what’s going on I can’t help you.” He hushed the last sentence in a low tone, almost drowned out by the quiet ambient music playing throughout Leblanc.
Goro looked so vulnerable staring at Akira. His first year in Tokyo was filled with encounters with the detective prince and his varying masks. At Penguin Sniper he witnessed the tentative smile that hid a vicious competitive smirk. At Jazz Jin he witnessed the relaxed shoulders that were often carrying burdens and trauma too heavy for any high schooler. At the bathhouse he witnessed the grimace of a man that secretly held so much vengeance in his heart. This time none of those masks were on display, and it was just pure Goro Akechi. It still shocked Akira how much trust Goro relinquished to him, even after all the times the world cast him aside. A stab of guilt stabbed itself through Akira and twisted. Akira was the one who had asked Goro to be more open with him, how dare he not reciprocate the same trust he has received? Anxiety coiled itself around him, squeezing his lungs until his breath quickened against his own will. He put a hand on the counter to anchor himself from the storm of emotions starting to brew within.
“I’m sorry.” Akira whispered, unsure of what he was even apologizing for. His vision swam a bit, forcing him to clench the counter with both hands to keep himself righted. Two black-gloved hands overlayed his own, gently clasping them. He focused on the texture of the synthetic leather until he was able to breathe normally again. He pushed back the anxiety threatening to consume him by reminding himself of his boyfriend’s presence. They fought numerous monstrous creatures together in the Metaverse, what were a few silly emotions?
“It’s alright, but you need to tell me what’s going on.” Goro said after giving Akira a moment to collect himself. He started rubbing small circles onto the backs of his hands. “I hope your friends aren’t employing you as a sounding board again.” he commented with a narrowing of his eyes.
“They aren’t,” he shook his head and cleared his dry throat before continuing, “and they are your friends too.”
“I’m not in the mood to fight that battle with you right now.” Akira was still looking down at their hands but he could tell Goro was giving him an eye roll. “Stop dancing around the question.”
Akira brought up one of his hands to rub at the tip of his nose, another nervous tick he couldn’t seem to get rid of, before finally facing Goro for the first time this evening.
“My parents called.”
Goro was already sitting still, but he turned into a statue at Akira’s words.
“...Oh?” Goro asked, clearly unsure of what to make of the situation yet. He kept his face carefully neutral, but Akira could tell from the twitch of his eyebrows and the tension in his shoulders he was struggling to do so.
Akira was obviously not as calm as he had hoped, because the words just suddenly tumbled out of him. “They wanted to ask how I was, and if I wanted to come to visit, and h-how my grades and clubs were going and… it was strange? T-they just seemed to want to know about how I was fairing in Tokyo, but then they got onto asking a-about my love life.” Akira took in a shuddering breath. “And I just couldn’t lie t-to them. They don’t think you exist frankly, and t-they want to m-meet you, and I got to t-t-thinking about how abnormal our relationship is, and if we c-can’t have a normal date night with just the t-two of us how we would have o-one with t-t-them and-”
“Akira.” Goro called to him from the surface of the sea he had accidentally submerged in. Goro’s hands were his lifesaver, and he used their calming pressure to resurface. He blinked in the atmosphere of Leblanc like it was the first time he had seen it today, and in a way it was. He didn’t realize how badly he had been dissociating until that moment.
Luckily it was a slow Thursday evening, so it was only Akira and Goro in the quaint cafe. There were still some plates left on one of the booths, but Akira had been so trapped in his head that leaving the safety of the counter had been too much effort. Akira had no clue how long they had sat there, but he was happy Sojiro wasn’t there to kindly berate the barista for the lack of urgency in his work.
Akira inhaled the aroma of the cafe, the scent of Goro’s coffee and the curry simmering in the back filling his nostrils. The smells soothed him enough to get his breathing back in order.
“Sorry.” Akira sighed, exhaustion ramming into him like a bullet between the eyes. He mentally kicked himself for using that specific metaphor with Goro sitting in front of him. Way to go Joker.
“Do you actually want to have dinner with your parents?” Goro asked softly, tilting his head a bit in the cute unconscious way he did when he was about to analyze something. The quiet tone surprised him, a total opposite of the way the Goro of the past would talk to him. He really had changed over the past year.
“I…” he gulped and realized he had absolutely no clue. “I don’t know.”
Goro nodded, his eyes distant as he strung together his next words. The Detective Prince often contemplated different interviewers' questions with a polite smile and a hand under his chin, his eyes cast upwards. It was all fabricated, of course, Goro always knew what was going to be asked beforehand, and very rarely did people dare to throw curveballs at him. When they did is when Goro’s mask began to fracture. The man could not hide his thrill for taking on a challenge after all. This is where you see the more subtle shifts. His eyes cast sideways with a glossy sheen. His hand clenching ever so slightly tighter at his side. His smile dimmed a bit, relaxing a few muscles that could now use their energy towards processing the question at hand. He witnessed an echo of this now with Goro Akechi sitting in front of him, and the determination in his gaze spread warmth throughout Akira’s body. Goro would assist him with his problems, he always did, and he needed to remind himself of that. He let those reassurances wash away the last bits of anxiety that were still clinging to his psych, and faced Goro with a fresher mind.
“You aren’t under your parent's thumb anymore, so you don’t have to abide by their wishes for you.” Goro started, gripping his hands just a bit tighter. “However, if you wish to do this I will stand by you and be on my best behavior. How much have you told them?”
“Not much.” Akira shrugged, trying to think over exactly how much information he had exchanged. “They still assume you are a woman so… next to nothing.”
Goro nodded again, seeming unsurprised by this news. “Do you think if they knew they would change their mind about meeting me?”
Akira thought back to all the conversations with his parents, but none of them outrightly hinted at them being homophobic. He shook his head, though warily.
“You seem uncertain.” Goro assessed, raising an eyebrow in a silent question.
“I just don’t know how they would react to…” he twirled a hand between them, trying to look for the right word “Us.”
“Us.” Goro snorted, rolling his eyes fondly.
Akira plastered on his best impression of the Detective Prince's signature smile and chipperly sang “I think we are far from a ‘normal couple’ Akira.” He raised his hand to hold his chin for added effect.
Goro choked on air. “For the love of- never do that again.” Goro dropped Akira’s hand from his hold and covered his face, pressing his palms into his eye sockets in horror. Akira chuckled.
“I thought you liked it when I showed more emotion.” Akira playfully pouted, curling one of his locks between his now colder hands. The sacrifices he makes for a good joke.
“I take it back. Please go back to your impression of a brick wall.”
Akira gave Goro a hand gesture he didn’t need to know shuwa to understand.
“I don’t think Sakura-san would appreciate an unwanted bird in his establishment.”
“I’ll have to get rid of the crow that's been yapping my ear off then.” Akira made the sign that he created for Crow during their Metaverse escapades and wiggled his eyebrows. A small smile broke across his face.
Even though Goro was still trying to skewer his eyes out with his palms, he groaned at the joke. “I think I’m far from unwanted. And stop getting us off track.” He fully removed one of his hands to shoot Akira a glare, but it lacked any malice.
Right, sorry. Akira signed, the newly formed smile quickly slipping off of his face. His evasion tactics had kicked in again without him even realizing it.
Goro laid his hands flat on the counter and returned to giving Akira his manufactured calm expression, but it was much more relaxed than it had been a few minutes prior. “If you don’t want to have dinner with them we don’t have to. Hell, you never have to speak to them again if that gives you more comfort.” Goro leaned forward. “You do what makes you happy. Stop trying to dance around and toot everyone’s horn. You can’t keep everyone content. You can’t save everyone. And you especially can’t continue to spread yourself so thin. It’s taking a toll on you. I know it is.”
Akira held his hands up to immediately refute his claims, but Goro took his hands to stop him. Damn him.
“Akira you're not the leader of the Phantom Thieves anymore. You can slow down, take your time with life.” Goro sounded like he was reading from a self-help book, the words slightly stilted and flat, but he knew he was being genuine. Still, the man was a hypocrite.
“Coming from the ex-idol, assassin, detective, and honor student I’m not inclined to believe you.”
Goro looked ready to strangle him. If they weren’t in the middle of Leblanc he might take him up on the offer. “Akira, just think about yourself for once. Stop running around Tokyo for imbeciles who can do their own damn chores. …Please?” The last word was whispered so low Akira was surprised he even caught it. Goro was begging at this point and that was… very unlike him.
Akira took a moment to run through his day. He woke up early and assisted Sojiro in preparing the curry for the day before heading off to school. There he gave Mishima some of the notes he had asked for since he had been sick and even ran through a few problems with him he had questions about. He sat through class, maintained the vegetable garden on the roof at lunch, and helped clean the classroom at the end of the day with Ms. Kawakami. Afterward, he picked up a few packages that couldn’t be mailed for Futaba and restocked Morgana’s tuna. Now he was covering for Sojiro for the night so he could spend more time with Futaba. He was a little tired…
Okay, maybe Goro had a point.
Voicing his thoughts was getting difficult once again, but this conversation was important and he owed it to Goro to communicate with him. After a moment of accumulating his remaining confidence for the day, he cleared his throat and squeezed Goro’s hands.
“I’ll work on it.” It came out quiet and uncertain, but it couldn’t have made Goro’s face light up more.
“That’s all I ask.” he hummed. “Now let’s decide dinner or I’m ordering takeout.”