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“... You’re staying?”
Akira’s question to his rival rang through the desolate confines of the empty café. No words would do any good for him at this point. He had just the most awful day possible: Maruki stopping by along with the newly realized idea that Akechi is going to die soon stuck in his mind. He felt nauseous; This was too much.
He hated the world and loved Goro and now he won’t leave Akira alone. How pathetic was he to need him all the time like this?
Enough of that. Love is such a trivial thing to think about right now.
Akira had woken up feeling shitty enough as it is, wanting to stay in bed and stay completely silent, not opening his mouth until his lips felt chapped together, but he knew what was coming. He wanted to reminisce about everything happening and lose himself in his thoughts, but no, that wasn’t possible. So it was up early, seeing Sojiro off, and not feeling even the slightest bit ready for Maruki’s confrontation.
Even during the slower days, Akira didn’t speak to any of the customers anymore. Just handing them their drink whenever they asked for it and giving a curt nod as a thanks for their pay. It was routine at this point; Well, maybe he shouldn’t have started doing this if he was never going to speak or make conversation with any of his customers. To be fair, there was one person and one person alone who he let his walls down around.
He didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that person today.
The situation ran in his head over and over again as to why Goro was even here . Maruki created a distorted reality, Goro snapping at him, forcing him to make a decision to infiltrate the palace, and with Akira Kurusu, no less. And Goro wished for death rather than letting his life be puppeteered. Still, Maruki was persistent. He’d always found a means to bring Goro and Akira together, somehow.
Akira had no choice but to accept that Goro was going to die. That certainly was one thing Goro was better than him at.
Goro smiled that fake-ass plastic smile of his at Akira’s comment, a grim reminder of how much he despised him. He turned his nose up at the mess left in the cafe, but it was the dark, late hours of the night and Akira didn’t care to clean it up. He was too tired to care about anything, especially that shit-eating grin Goro was carrying around with him tonight.
It was clearly evident that Akira had been to see Goro for a while now; There was no hiding it. But he was tired . He was glad Goro was here to stay, but also dreaded it because he knew now he’d just get bullshit and nothing else. That seemed to be every day with Goro now, at this point.
“Ha ha, quite the amusing question,” Goro finally said, breaking the silence after Akira’s question. Shit. Akira could easily tell from his tone that Goro was pissed too, and that he’d likely had a horrible day. Probably worse than Akira’s. With Goro, who knew, at this point? “Of course I am. You know I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Unfortunately, he was right. “Coffee?” Akira offered nonchalantly. He didn’t want to talk, but it was Goro, his rival, and practically his only friend at this point. He had to be nice, even if both of them knew it was all a tapestry of lies.
Goro scoffed, practically seeing through Akira like he was a pane of pitch-black glass — trying to obstruct the light and prevent it from seeping between the cracks, and failing miserably.
“I’m fine, thanks. You seem like the one who could use a drink.”
“Very funny.” Akira didn’t say a word after that, nearly trotting up the stairs to finally go and sleep for the day. Goro would leave soon enough. He always did. Whether it was to death or to the next train home.
But something stopped him.
It was, of course, an all-too familiar iron grip accompanied by black leather gloves. “You’re not getting off that easily.”
Oh, god, what had Akira done to piss off Goro now? Was it that his quiet and awkward demeanor unintentionally attracted everyone to him while Goro was left alone with no one else but Akira? No, wait, he’d already yelled at Akira for that when they fought, again. Was it Akira forgetting to make him his perfect coffee last time he was here? Did he forget the one sugar cube? No, he was certain he did it, he remembered the sight of the warm drink waiting patiently to be brought to the former detective’s lips.
What the hell had he done now? Was it the fact that he still couldn’t accept the grim reality of his demise? Akira’s quiet heart pounded out of its chest; Maybe he shouldn’t have spoken. Period. But if he didn’t, Goro would probably say he’s ignoring him. Just what did Goro want? Akira still never understood him at all.
Akira glanced away, then back at Goro, a sign for him to keep talking, keep rambling about whatever the hell was on his mind. “Stay. I can’t risk you doing anything stupid up there.”
Well, this wasn’t new. Goro could be quite clingy. He was such a lonely guy —let alone in death — Akira didn’t blame him, even Akira himself was guilty of clinging to his only friend in times of need. Well, he said “only” because none of the Phantom Thieves bothered to reach out to him because they didn’t need a shoulder to cry on after Maruki fixed everything for them. Go fucking figure. It didn’t take long for Akira to silently pull Goro into a hug. He didn’t say a word, but he already felt Goro’s muscles loosen. Maybe he just needed a massage; Akira wouldn’t mind providing that if it meant both of them would shut the hell up. Goro would easily agree, especially now, huh?
He probably shouldn’t be this clingy, Akira thought. He’s probably telling himself that. Yet Goro didn’t stop talking. How in character, he never shuts up. “I know something’s been going on with you, Joker,” Goro interrogated, “And I can’t risk you leaving me. Not like this.”
Well, it’s not like I have anywhere else to go. Let alone anywhere else I want to go. Akira let the thought sit in his mind and rot. He could never tell Goro the things he was feeling, ever. Besides, Goro was in a bad mood too, Akira was the one who was supposed to be helping! Which one of the two was dead in the real world right now? What the fuck was he thinking?!
Even in the hollow darkness, Akira could see a gentle flush of red on Goro’s face. The soft, dim light hit his face perfectly, just making him all the more pretty. He was always pretty, but he was especially pretty tonight, despite all the rage Akira knew Goro was hiding away in his icy heart.
“Joker, are you listening?” Akira gently nodded in response. Still that name…
Goro heaved a sigh; Tired, but relieved, Akira could tell. Goro was still exasperated, Akira knew that, so why was he saying all this? Why did he insist on helping him when Akira was supposed to help him through his suffering? Wasn’t that the point of Goro coming to take down Maruki? To spend time in this desolate cafe? Yet, it seemed like every day since they met, Goro got better and better at reading Akira’s mind. Now, Goro’s a master at seeing through his lies, all his “I’m fine”’s and “Everything’s okay”’s. That facade Akira was so good at holding was slipping, and only around Goro. It was embarrassing.
Soon enough Goro would see that there’s really nothing to like, and that quiet demeanor was a mask to hide that Akira didn’t know who he was. Shit, maybe Goro would even leave him sooner… Maybe Goro would find peace in death. Death certainly would care for him better than the realities he’s endured.
Death would love him, death would openly and warmly embrace Goro, more than Akira ever would—
“Joker. Kurusu… Akira. Talk to me.”
The sudden words from Goro snapped him out of what felt like a trance — is that what Akira was in right now? And he said his name. What for?
Akira shook his head, much to Goro’s dissatisfaction. “You’re the one I should be helping,” the quieter one finally spoke. His voice was breaking, barely a murmur. “I have to st—”
“I don’t care about that!” Goro snapped, grabbing his shoulders like he was holding on for dear life. Goro wasn’t angry; Akira finally realized he was worried. How stupid could Akira get? Well, he had Goro to tell him that if he ever told him that. Which would be never . “I’ve already said all I need to. And you are going to challenge Maruki as per my request. You’ve already done all you need to. You’ve done everything for me. Fucking everything. Akira, do you realize how much you’ve meant to me?”
Maybe what Goro really wanted to say here was how much he hated Akira. He knew that. And the thought made Akira want to gouge his own eyes out. Why couldn’t he just—
“You are enough.”
Akira felt like he was going to choke.
“This… situation we’re in… doesn’t change that for me.”
It only just sunk in that Akira had tears rolling down his face. Why Goro Akechi was saying this, he didn’t know, but it was going to be one long fucking lecture in the morning when they were both coherent. Maybe Akira would just fake it and say it was nighttime sadness so Goro would get off his ass. Get him to stop caring.
It turns out Goro would never stop caring. Akira heaved a sigh at the thought; If Goro wanted him to stay, he’d stay. But if Goro wanted him to talk, he’d kill himself first.
“You are enough for me, Akira.” Goro was trying to hammer the thought into Akira’s mind, but his stubborn ass wasn’t having it. Maybe he’s selfish for not accepting Goro’s genuine affection, because this is one of the rare times he shows it. “You’re everything I have. My first real friend. You’re going to save me — you did save me — from a world cursed by my existence. I’m eternally grateful for you.”
What was the point in him saying all this stuff, really? Did Goro want to see Akira as a crying trainwreck on the floor, an empty shell of himself, an ugly mess wiping off his face trying to make sure his ruined, crusty eyeliner isn’t making him look uglier? Maybe. Goro would be amused by the sight. Or maybe he’d get off to it.
But no. Akira was going to keep his composure. He’d been through worse.
So he gave Goro another small nod, swallowing the urge to tell Goro he’s not cursing the world by existing, with the knowledge that he heard everything he’d just said. Akira escaped the grasp of Goro’s warm embrace to head back to behind the counter. Drinking away his sorrows seemed to be the only option now.
Goro watched his every move wistfully, watching Akira as he poured himself a cup of coffee. A simple drink, but it would send a coat of burnt nuttiness around his throat. Something to flush his thoughts out. Goro followed close behind, refusing to let Akira out of his sight, probably still refusing to let this go… But why?
Akira downed the entire drink in one gulp, the burn of the coffee cutting through the acid in his throat already making him sick. Goro tapped a finger on the counter to signal him. “Akira.”
Akira had had enough of Goro by now. Yet, he still listened when Goro grabbed his hand, Akira in the depths of his heart wanting to hug back and claw away at him like he was clinging onto every last ounce of life. That’s truly what Goro was now, no? His only friend, and as much as Akira hated to admit, someone he loved.
He was someone Akira adored so much that it felt like looking at Goro Akechi drained the life out of him because he was just that perfect. If Akira told him that, it’d be out of pity. But those same exact words coming out of Goro Akechi’s mouth were an entirely different story. His heart swelled with pangs of and the knowledge that Goro Akechi hates him. He has, and always will, and these feeble attempts at whatever “love” Goro was professing was just another mockery of the so-called meaningless empty love Akira received every single day. Goro would hate that. Akira’s heart burned with the knowledge that Goro wouldn’t love him back and it seemed like he wouldn’t rise from the ashes this time.
So that’s why Akira didn’t care. At least, that’s what he told himself. He didn’t want to care, yet deep inside he was yearning for every ounce of Goro’s affection, every drop of love he was willing to give. Akira didn’t care when Goro grabbed his tiny, pretty waist and brought it closer to his. Akira didn’t care when he was practically pinned by Goro down to the counter, just stuck bent over with Goro staring down at him with those goddamn pretty chestnut eyes. Akira didn’t care when Goro tilted his chin up and forced him to gaze back at him.
Goro wasn’t easily hiding the fact that he was so deeply red, and the somber light hung low in the air cupping his soft face. Akira was jealous, so jealous of that light. “You know, you really are stupid, Joker,” Goro mused. “That mouth of yours is quite good at spouting nonsense.” He dipped Akira down like one of those dancers in the movies who wanted to steal a kiss from the beautiful woman with the ever-flowing skirt. How cliche, at least that’s what Goro would think. “So listen to my nonsense. Listen to me, your oh-so adoring rival who just wants to get it through your thick fucking skull that you are perfection itself.”
Akira’s eyes burned with tears by now. Goro Akechi knew how to make Akira tick, and he was the only one who ever seemed to do that. He always let Goro get to him, always let him seep into his mind like he was something haunting. Akira wrapped his arms around Goro’s neck, a nod to his rival that he longed for more of his warmth, more of his embrace. How stupid Akira was for wanting more of it. How greedy Akira was for wanting only Goro Akechi’s love.
“Let someone love you, Akira. Let ME love you. For once in your fucking life.” And with that, Goro sealed Akira’s fate and their lips together with a kiss.
And that fucking did Akira in.
If he wasn’t so lovingly trapped in Goro’s arms right now, he would be a sobbing mess on the floor, so instead, he was a sobbing mess in Goro’s warm embrace. And Goro liked it, Akira knew, by the way he gently cupped his face with those cold, gloved hands, wiping away every tear that fell from his face. “Has anyone ever told you how pathetically beautiful you look when you cry, Joker?”
Pathetically beautiful. That’s what he was to Goro.
Akira shook his head, going along with the act. He felt Goro’s breath getting hotter with every kiss, and saltier as Akira’s tears mixed with their mouths. Akira threw his arms around his rival’s neck, and Goro quickly reciprocated, easing his position to bend down towards Akira as the latter was bent over the counter. It felt so right kissing Goro like this. He secretly hoped his lips never met the taste of another.
“Wait. Kurusu. We… shouldn’t do this,” Goro murmured, voice low, husky, and full of uncertainty. He glanced away, as if he was regretting turning his offer down. Which was strange, as he didn’t seem to care about how Akira felt at all mere hours beforehand.
Akira felt sick. It would be best to stop. It would be wisest to stop. But Akira always did what he felt to be right.
“Just let me have this. Let me have you… and I’ll accept your love.”
“Hm,” Goro heaved a sigh, confidence and comfortability quickly surfacing back inside of him. “Ever the charmer, Joker.”
Then Goro tilted his chin, making Akira's heart skip a beat in that moment. His eyes were like eons-old frozen amber gazing back at him with sheer beauty; Akira just wanted to have those perfect eyes for his own. He wanted his rival to gaze into his own cloudy, dark soul for evermore, even if that wish would never come true.
“I love you, Akira Kurusu,” Goro hissed. Perfectly ironic. And Akira loved that stupid fake cockiness about him. “Say it back,” he hissed, his tone a low whisper, the lowering volume of his voice hinting that he wasn't forced to. “Because I know you do too.”
That was one thing Goro’s detective intuition was right about. And Akira’s own assumption was so stupidly wrong.
“I love you too, Goro,” Akira breathed. It was always that fucking easy to tell Goro what he was thinking. But again, this was the master of oversharing he’d seemed to have fallen for. So Akira, in all of his own stupidity, kissed him harder.
He hated how easily Goro got to him sometimes, but this was an exception. This, after all, was the first time Akira was bent over his own counter by the hand of the former Detective Prince, his own rival. And yet, he loved the feeling of risk all the same, the risk that this would never happen again or that they'd get caught. But Akira was sure he’d flipped the sign to “closed” a few hours ago. They were safe today.
Akira lost all sense of himself when he heard Goro moan softly into the kiss. It wasn't just him enjoying this. His heart skipped a beat at the rare, pretty sound. He wanted to hear more of it. He wanted Goro to finally let those icy walls down around him. He wanted more of those pretty moans…
Akira backed away from his lips and kissed Goro on the side of his neck. Of course it left a lipstick stain, Akira was so particular about his makeup in case this ever were to happen. There were smudged lipstick stains all over Goro’s lips from when they were making out moments prior, and it didn't take long for Goro to point it out.
“Pathetic, Joker. Your eyeliner is all smudged... Your makeup is utterly ruined.” Goro uttered those words as he licked his lips to savor the taste of Akira's lipstick. Perhaps that was his way of endearing him. Joker, Joker, Joker. After all this time, it's still his favorite name to call Akira. Perhaps it gave Goro power. That’s something he liked to feel, after all.
“You know who’s to blame for that,” Akira retorted smugly, which was a dire mistake. Goro grabbed him by the hip to bring him as close as possible, and—
Akira almost jumped out of his skin at the feeling of Goro's hard cock through his pants. Is that what this was? Seduction? Akira wasn't complaining— his cheeks flared a bright red at the new feeling. That probably didn’t mix well with the patchy, tear-stricken eyeliner on his cheeks.
“It’s such a sexy look on you,” Goro purred. “I can’t fucking stand it.”
Goro took a sip from what was left of Akira's glass, licking his lips out of, likely, spite and seduction. He knew Akira was still on the verge of tears and he was going to take advantage of that in every way possible. And he kissed him again, still with the slight tinge of coffee. The undertone of it was still lingering on his lips and Goro still managed to make it taste sweet.
Akira yelped as Goro grabbed ahold of his waist; Goro’s hands were cold against the warmth of his body, only getting warmer as he was pulled closer to his partner. Partner? Is that what he is right now?
“Is that good?” Goro whispered. And God, it was. If Akira tried to tell Goro Akechi how much he wanted to be skin-to-skin with him, pulled close against him as his pretty cunt dripped and ached and Goro had no idea, he'd choke harder on his words than if Goro told him he just gave him a new necklace.
Akira nodded; the seal of fate, the signal for Goro to keep going. The sign that Akira wanted to be put in his place right now. Akira flung his arms around Goro’s neck, leaning backwards over his own counter. How embarrassing. Now whenever he went to work, he'd think of Goro, wouldn't he?
“Goro,” Akira whispered, blinking away the leftover tears from his eyes. “Please. If you're going to do something, then do it.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. He’d probably be better off dead. If he knew any better, Goro was about to destroy him.
“Is that so?”
Maybe Goro’s matured more sexually since he died. He’s a lot more smooth now, Akira’s taken mental note; but despite using the usual sexy pick-up lines, Goro makes them sound hot. If anyone else said that to him, it’d be horribly awkward.
Maybe he’s just horribly attracted to Goro. He hates how much he’s been in love with him for months. And as long as he’s known him and it never seemed to end—
“Akira. Pay attention to me.”
Goro’s voice was hungry, demanding— So demanding that he didn’t even notice his hand moving down to Akira’s crotch. Oh, God, Goro discovering he has a cunt is going to be… quite embarrassing. Yet, Akira nodded in response to Goro demand; The touch felt so good, so comforting, yet so hot at the same time. How did Goro’s gloved hands manage to do that all at once?
So Akira kissed him.
With tongue, this time. He hasn’t kissed Goro before today, he doesn’t think. And his tongue feels so good shoved down his throat like this. Akira’s lost all control, and yet, he’s kissing him so hard like this whilst shoved backward over the counter. And it’s hot. Goro is hot, so hot and sexy — he wants more .
Maybe Goro is wasted. Maybe he has a horrible caffeine tolerance and is one of those people who gets tired from just a few sips of coffee from a cup that's already kissed Akira's mouth dozens of times. But fuck it all if Akira doesn't let himself get wasted away on the feeling of being Goro’s and Goro's alone until the morning comes. Or at least until he passes on.
Then Goro strips Akira of his pants, leaving his thighs bare and vulnerable and longing to be kissed. He stares for a bit, Akira noticing his face growing an even brighter red. Goro glances down at his black laced panties, then up at Akira’s face; If Goro didn’t get on with it, Akira would start crying harder out of embarrassment, goddammit.
Or maybe Goro liked that more about him. “Whore.” Then the rest all felt like a blur; slender, gloved hands slipping into his waistband and then pressing against his clit. Fuck. Akira sucked in a breath, letting himself let out gentle sobs.
“Oh… Goro…”
“That’s right… Cry for me.”
“It’s… so good.” Akira heaved a breath he knew would be one of many to come. He’d shared many intimate moments with Goro that flustered the both of them far too much to remember, but none as raw and emotional as this. Akira was still a virgin, after all. The makeout sessions in the dark alleyways and blowjobs in the Jazz Jin bathroom meant nothing leading up to this.
“I never took you for the whorish type.” God, had Goro prepared for this? His two fingers slipped in easily; Akira was embarrassingly wet at this point. “You’re practically dripping… Embarrassing.”
So Goro curled his fingers. Right into that sweet, sweet spot.
Goro held his confident smirk as Akira’s warm, hot cunt clenched around his curled fingers — when a wet sensation began to ensue. “Already?” Goro teased. “I’d expected you to hold out longer, Joker.”
Fuck Goro, really, for being such a tease. The other boy whimpered in response, stifling tears; Shit, he loved it so much. He loved when Goro mocked him simply for just existing sometimes, but this was a whole other level of ecstasy. He wanted to kiss him again. He wanted to feel his hot mouth mixing with the salty tears that were simultaneously ruining the makeup he’d put so much effort into preparing. For Goro? Not his intention, but maybe it was his subconscious.
“What’re you going to do about that then…?” Akira attempted to retort. Trying to sound confident when he’s been crying in Goro’s arms for as long as he has just made him sound pathetic now.
“Don’t get so cocky. You haven’t forgotten who’s in charge, have you, Joker?” Goro’s voice was a gentle hiss into Akira’s ear. “You know better than that.” So he kissed him again. Hot and rough and with tongue and to definitely not distract Akira from Akechi undoing his belt to release his hard, throbbing cock.
Goro grabbed hold of Akira’s waist, dipping him slightly and pressing him over the Leblanc counter. His gaze was ever confident, as if he’s been waiting to ravish Akira like this from the moment he saw him. Maybe that was true. Both of them were hungry in separate ways; Akira for Goro’s cock, and Goro for Akira’s cunt. And each other, for their entire beings, but trivial things such as love were unimportant now.
Goro moved down to trail soft kisses down his neck. Akira faintly whimpered and wanted to sob out even more from how gentle the touch of his lips were. Perhaps that was a facade that wouldn’t last long. Akira knew Goro wasn’t gentle, whether it be with his words or his intimacy. And God, if he didn’t long for Goro’s intimacy right now, especially since this might be the only chance he ever has at receiving it.
Even when Goro bit at his throat, and when he shoved his fingers into him once more — not to mention that he was wetter this time — Akira couldn’t hold back the most emotional sobs and wails. It all felt good, so good, like a tidal wave of warmth, and like Goro deserved to be here with him, exchanging the heat of intimacy for as long as they both could live. Akira didn’t care about being selfish anymore; he desired Goro’s everything. He wanted him to stay alive, not just for this. For more than this.
So he let out a moan and let himself sob for his partner, taking advantage of every second of intimacy that was in his reach. “Goro!” he moaned, his heart aching from the pleasure. Goro curled his fingers into that perfect spot once more as he sucked a mark into his neck. A mark that would stay there for a nice, good while, as if Goro wanted to say mine and mine alone.
Oh, how Akira wished for that to be true for just a bit longer.
“Hm… I wonder if you’re ready to take me, Joker,” Goro murmured, teasing Akira’s clit with the tip of his cock. It felt like he was about to explode if Goro didn’t just fuck him right now. He wanted more, even if it felt so nice already. Akira rolled his hips, as a way of telling Goro, “I want you to ruin me.”
Maybe Goro had a point about being ready to take him.
When Goro shoved his cock into Akira, everything fell into a haze. He felt so small compared to Goro’s dick, it was almost embarrassing — and of course he couldn’t stop himself from sobbing. “Ahh—! Mmph, you’re… so good…!” Akira bitched as he flung his arms around Goro’s neck. He looked him directly in the eye, glasses fogging up with heavy breaths and tears.
Goro gazed back down at him, with that same cold scrutiny he had shown when Maruki was still here. When Akira decided they would take their reality back. When he made Akira accept his death. He grabbed his partner’s hips harder, certain they would bruise in the morning from how tight he was holding him, and thrusted. Goro groaned softly, Akira’s mewls and sobs seeming to turn him on even more. He moved one hand to hold the back of Akira’s head, just a gentle reminder that he was safe.
“Oh… Akira,” Goro whined, already coming close from the warm, wet tightness around his cock. Akira felt it coming, too— How embarrassing would it be to squirt all over his rival’s dick? Well, he’d probably enjoy belittling him for that, just like with everything else.
“Goro!” Akira yelped once more, panting heavily the faster Goro pounded into him. “I need you! I need you—!” He whined, letting his true emotions show for once during this entire night. “Ah, Goro—”
Goro was taken aback by the remark, but the emotions bubbling up inside of him couldn’t be ignored anymore. “Akira… Stay with me… Hnn- I need you.” He kissed him again, nearly shoving his tongue down Akira’s throat. Their heated breathing turned both of their faces red when they pulled away — not like they wanted to, though.
“Hurt me!” Akira demanded after that, possibly as a way of accepting Goro’s love into his heart. “Mark me, make me yours—” and stopped himself after realizing he’d said too much. If they were never going to see each other again, never going to touch again, Akira wanted it rough.
Akira never opened his heart up. But in this state of vulnerability, especially to Goro, there was no way he could avoid that.
“Oh?” Goro inquired, quite intrigued by the idea being put into his mind. So he slapped him, right across the face. Of course, that only made Akira sob harder — but both were turned on by the sight.
Goro didn’t show any less mercy as he kept fucking into Akira at a rather rhythmic pace, slapping him if Akira dared breathe too quickly. But Goro liked Akira’s cries, he liked it because he knew fucking him when he waas so vulnerable would help him rather than hinder. His emotions were something Goro understood well. Better than anyone. Something to brag about when he gets to hell, he supposes.
A slap. Another slap. A whimper and a frail sob from Akira, a grunt and a curse under a heavy breath from Goro, the static electricity between the two, and fuck.
Akira reached to touch his clit, so hungry for more stimulation — and was met with a harsh slap. “Did I say you could pleasure yourself?” he hissed. “Did I allow you to lay a hand on what’s mine?”
He sucked in a breath, and as if all of the heavens were collapsing from how amazing everything felt, from all the pleasure coursing through his body, Akira squirted all over Goro’s cock.
“Oh? Good boy,” Goro heaved as the last of Akira’s tears fell from his face. Bringing him closer, he pet the other’s soft, likely super damaged hair as his voice hushed to a strangely uncharacteristic murmur. “There’s my Joker. My beautiful Joker.”
Never again. Never again would Akira get to feel this warmth. Unless maybe, by some stupid miracle, Akira would convince Goro to let him save him. But such a thing would likely never happen. So he gripped onto Akira’s jacket as tight as he could. He only had a few hours left now, after all.
“Goro, I—”
“Hush, now. Let me care for you until the dawn breaks. It’s… the least I could do.”
Goro’s words cut off the last of his thoughts. That raw, open, emotional round of sex — let alone his first round of sex — was the most open he’s ever been with Goro since… he can’t recall, but that isn’t important.
His heart ached. He wished he could stay with him longer, but that just wasn’t possible. Maybe he was right about the embrace of death loving him more than Akira could comprehend. And Akira loved Goro a whole damn lot.
“At least let me tell you that I love you…? One last time?”
“…”
“Goro?”
“Fine… I suppose you have a point.” Goro heaved a sigh, knowing that the next words coming out of his mouth would be the last time he ever said them. That made both of them sick.
“I love you, Akira.”
“I love you more, Goro.”
Akira never would tell Goro how much he loved him more. That was… such a trivial thing.