Work Text:
Stepping into proximity of the cafe, Akira could already see the decorations they'd put up near the end of yesterday's shift. The outside of the cafe had been decorated with banners of red and pink hearts that hung across from one side to the other, and some that dangled vertically. The garlands swayed dramatically in the winter breeze. Flaps of paper hearts fluttered like wings, but otherwise none of the decorations got blown away.
Not too far from the entrance of the cafe was a menu stand that detailed the special Valentine's Day menu. Akira remembered having to write the names and prices of the dishes down in chalk yesterday. He had no idea who'd drawn the hearts on afterward.
Through the glass display windows, he could see some of the staff already inside working on setting up the cafe for the day. Before Akira could take a step forward toward the cafe's entrance, though, a low voice called his name from behind.
"Akira."
The voice made Akira's skin prickle with mild dread and apprehension, more than the chilling wind ever could. His blood nearly froze. There was no way he could mistake that voice for anyone else's.
The way Shiki said his name, it wasn't so much as him saying it as he was violating Akira's name with his mouth.
Akira carefully turned around to face him. It was the last guy he wanted to see, and unfortunately for Akira, it just so happened to be that Shiki was the first person he saw this morning. The day had barely even started, and his luck was already turning out bad.
"Shiki," he replied coolly, feeling turbulent at the man's presence, but Akira didn't let it show. He regarded Shiki with a cautious gaze, shifting the weight on his feet and subtly taking a guarded stance. If Shiki was going to whip out that ridiculous katana of his for whatever reason, Akira wanted to be prepared.
Shiki seemed to enjoy how on edge he was making Akira from this whole interaction. "Don't just stand here outside the cafe," he said, his voice low and smooth in a way that sent chills across Akira's skin. Suddenly, the jacket Akira was wearing didn't seem like it was protecting him from the cold nearly as much as it was before. "You look like a lost dog." There was an amused gleam in Shiki's eyes. He stepped toward Akira.
Akira tensed as Shiki closed in on him, but he didn't back away, keeping his eyes on Shiki. He had to wonder how long Shiki had been watching him to make that statement. The smirk just seemed to be permanently etched on Shiki's face. Akira's jaw tightened in annoyance.
"…You're early today," Akira said, not revealing any of the surprise he felt from Shiki's appearance. His tone sounded as accusatory as he'd intended it to be, though. "Early" certainly wasn't an accurate term for this considering they were just on time, but for someone like Shiki who didn't even show up to work on some days and clocked in whenever he felt like it, the term fit aptly.
"Hmph. Of course. It's going to be busy today, after all."
"Busy?" Akira raised a brow, suspicious. Not because of those words, but because of Shiki's presence in general. Being around Shiki did that to you. It was hard to tell what this guy was thinking. That was what made him so dangerous, but more than that, annoying.
"You'll see," was Shiki's unhelpful response.
Akira frowned but didn't press the matter further. He'd known it was going to be busier than usual today, but now he was wondering how concerned he should be if even Shiki was making the effort to show up to work on time just for this occasion. Akira briefly considered asking Shiki for any tips on how to handle the workload today, but decided not to. He doubted Shiki would give him any suggestions or advice. Knowing Shiki, he'd probably enjoy watching Akira struggle to keep up with the influx of customers. He was a bastard like that. There was no reason for him to help Akira at all.
Realizing that they were just standing around, Akira wondered if Shiki was going to go ahead into the cafe first, but Shiki didn't move at all. Akira gave him a wary look but said nothing. Shiki was still smirking at him with that irritatingly haughty aura of his. Which, in turn, just made Akira more apprehensive.
Only when Akira started walking did Shiki move as well, trailing right behind Akira.
It was like Shiki enjoyed making him as uncomfortable as possible. He was always toying with Akira like this. Akira concentrated on ignoring the stare that practically burned into his back as he walked.
Shiki ended up following him all the way to the entrance of the cafe. Surprisingly, Shiki entered through the door rather than breaking in through a window… though that was probably because his current priority was pissing Akira off.
Akira ignored the stares that he got from the others as he entered the cafe with Shiki. It seemed like the stares were more directed at Shiki than him, though. Shiki walking through the door like a civilized person for once was a miraculous sight. Akira couldn't blame them for their stunned and gaping reactions.
He gave a sweeping glance over the cafe's interior as he headed toward the staff room. The cafe's traditionally brown tones had been replaced with a pop of bright red. Inside, the cafe was adorned with more hearts hanging from the ceiling and some plastered to the walls. There were also vases of (probably fake) roses on the tables.
It didn't take long for Akira to get changed into his server uniform, and then he was finally free of Shiki's overbearing presence since Shiki had to go prepare ingredients in the kitchen. Akira was left with the tasks of sweeping the floor, setting up the tables, and just wiping down whatever looked like needed cleaning. Anything to busy himself with, because he was going to get scolded otherwise.
It wasn't like the work at the cafe was tough or anything though. Only during busy times did it get challenging to handle, but Akira attributed that more to his coworkers being insane rather than the work being difficult. With Rai throwing plates around and what not, it was hard to dodge them while still carrying an armful of dishes to the tables. It had led to a few broken glasses before.
The work environment wasn't too bad, though, and the pay was decent, but his coworkers left a lot to be desired, the worst offender no doubt being Shiki. At least the others left Akira alone for the most part. Shiki, however, always seemed to find the time and opportunity to stalk and harass Akira while they were on the clock.
In fact, Akira had been ready to quit on his first day of work after experiencing the displeasure of Shiki following him around for the duration of his whole shift, but his pride had gotten the better of him. Quitting would've just proven Shiki's words right that the work was "too much for him to handle." Akira had been determined to prove Shiki wrong and show him he was fully capable of serving customers at this cafe.
Ironically, the reason why working at the cafe was so troublesome for him in the first place was because of Shiki himself. The man seemed to have no qualms about constantly reminding Akira of his presence and the fact that they were coworkers, though it was all conveyed through very pointed disdain. Unlike his fellow servers, Akira actually preferred it when the cafe was so busy with no time for respite, because then there was no opportunity for Shiki to bother him. Not when there was a rush of customers coming in and the kitchen was being flooded with orders.
Akira was surprised Shiki hadn't even been fired a long time ago, given how questionable his attendance and conduct were, but it was clear why. Shiki was the one who mainly procured ingredients and stocked produce for the kitchen. And he was skilled with a knife—or rather, in this case, sword—enough that he was stationed as one of the head chefs in the kitchen. Akira assumed it would also take a while to fill in the spot left from Shiki's vacancy because no one in their right mind would apply for a job at this cafe. The only reason Akira worked here anyway was because he'd gotten roped into this job along with Konoe and Youji. By the time he'd figured out just what kind of coworkers he had to deal with on a daily basis, it had been too late.
The other two seemed to be getting along just fine with their respective mentors at least. Konoe had seemed to really warm up to Rai, and the same went for Youji with Tetsuo.
Him and Shiki though…
It dismayed him to even consider Shiki as a mentor-like figure to him. Which was why Akira had mostly figured everything out on his own without ever asking for advice from Shiki. For the times when he did need guidance, he usually went to Rin, who was always more than happy to explain.
It was only in the recent months that he and Shiki had… mellowed out toward each other, if it could even be described that way. It started from that incident at Motomi's ramen shop. Shiki had overheard Akira complaining about having to work in the same cafe as him. He'd ridiculed Akira at first, especially when Akira had gotten tricked into eating that super spicy gyoza. But following that incident, Shiki had stopped acting so overbearing toward him at work. The change in behavior was sudden enough to make Akira think that Shiki had actually listened to his words and considered his complaints, as difficult to believe as that was.
And then, there was the casual sex they had on the side.
It was casual because it was exactly that—there was nothing special about it. Akira could barely remember how it'd even started. Not because of the beer he'd been drinking that night at the small get-together with everyone from the cafe, but because he and Shiki had fucked enough times already that it felt like the norm now; that their relationship had always been this way.
He recalled Shiki giving him a ride home on his motorcycle that night, and Akira had let him into his apartment when they made it there. He hadn't exactly been in the most sober state of mind, to be fair.
They might have bickered as they always did inside his apartment afterward. But the memory was fuzzy compared to the much clearer one of Shiki kissing him against the wall.
It was then that Akira had realized Shiki wasn't exactly as sober as he'd let on despite how smoothly he'd navigated the road on his motorcycle. He'd been acting like he hadn't swallowed a single drop of alcohol, his movements so self-assured as they always were, that the sudden heated kiss had completely caught Akira off guard. But Akira couldn't talk much either, not when he'd parted his mouth and let Shiki kiss him deeper.
It should've ended there as a one time thing. It hadn't.
In spite of the habitual sex they had, nothing else had changed about their relationship, and Akira was glad for that. He wasn't sure what he would do if Shiki suddenly started acting nice to him at work. Probably assume that someone (or something) had taken possession of Shiki's body.
Akira finished sweeping up the area behind the counter and then went to go check up on the coffee machines, making sure that all the equipment was working properly. By the time he finished cleaning them, it was about time for the cafe to open.
✝
♱
Akira could see exactly what Shiki had meant when he’d said the cafe was going to be busy today. It was lunchtime and the cafe was filled to the brim, buzzing with loud chatter. There was a line of people waiting that even extended to outside the cafe. Akira had already broken a few plates and glasses today trying to navigate through the mayhem of his coworkers running around and panicking.
And now he was getting cussed out by an angry customer because the man apparently didn't like the food and wanted a refund, and that was somehow Akira's problem.
"Seems like you enjoyed it just fine," Akira said, unconvinced. He pointedly looked at the empty plate that only had a few crumbs of dessert remaining. The discrepancy was obvious.
His response pissed the man off even more. The man stood up and slammed his hand on the table, utensils clattering from the force. He grabbed Akira by the collar, again demanding a refund. People around them gave them looks; some concerned, some annoyed at the outburst.
"Let go," Akira said, remaining perfectly composed and unflinching. His hand was a twitch away from reaching up to grab the hand on his collar and wrenching it off. He had no desire to get fired for assaulting a customer, but he wasn't so devoid of any dignity that he was going to let himself get threatened like this. He'd been in plenty of fights before and guys like this were just trouble; always looking for a reason to lash out, and it just so happened that Akira was his target this time.
"What are you doing?"
The voice momentarily froze the tension. Akira hadn't even noticed Shiki coming up behind them. He wasn't sure if that question was directed at him or the customer, but the answer was made clear when he looked and saw Shiki's gaze searing into the man with the force of a deadly wildfire.
Akira didn't like where this was going. Shiki wasn't exactly known for his customer service skills (there was a reason why he was assigned to the kitchen), and he was probably going to inflame the situation rather than defuse it.
The customer let go of Akira's collar, his anger turning toward Shiki. He pointed at the plate. "Did you make this?"
"I wouldn't know," Shiki said, his tone dismissive in a way that made it clear he found that question a waste of his time. "There are four chefs in the kitchen."
"Well clearly, you're one of them." He sneered, sizing him up.
"Hmph. And?"
"And I want a damn refund! You people are serving shit food here!"
If Akira had any sympathy for the customer, it was only that he was digging his own grave. Clearly he didn't know how bad of an idea it was to pick a fight with Shiki.
"Stop whining. If you have a problem with this establishment, then leave," Shiki said.
The man's mouth twisted into a snarl. "You think you can talk to me that way?"
Shiki's expression turned dark in that instant. "You don't seem to understand your position here." His voice was low but deadly. There was no amusement in Shiki's eyes, not in the way there usually would be when he was looking at someone he perceived as lesser but still entertaining enough to watch squirm.
A flash of silver swept through the air, and Shiki's sword was out and pointed at the man. There were a few shrieks around the cafe, and people nearby got up out of their seats to get away from the range of Shiki's sword.
Akira just watched on from the side, letting out a quiet sigh at how absurd the situation had gotten. He'd figured Shiki was going to resort to violence, but Akira wondered if he should've done something to de-escalate the situation before it had come to this. Not like he would've had much luck trying to convince Shiki to not insult the customer. Despite Shiki's troublesome behavior, he was still too useful to the cafe to get rid of, so Akira knew Shiki was probably going to get a scolding from Bardo later and that would be the end of it.
"I won't allow you to continue with this annoying drivel any longer. Leave," Shiki demanded. His sword hovered dangerously close to the man's neck.
"W-What the fuck! I'm suing this place!"
That was the last thing the man said before scrambling up from the floor and running out the door. Shiki muttered something about "weakling" before lowering his sword.
Akira just kept staring at Shiki, who was now nonchalantly sheathing his sword.
"Don't get the wrong idea," Shiki said. He wasn't looking at Akira, but the target of his words was clear. "I was only getting rid of the commotion in the cafe."
Akira suddenly felt a bit miffed. "…I wasn't thinking anything."
Shiki turned his gaze toward Akira, his expression unreadable. The stare lasted for a few seconds, and then he said nothing more as he turned around and walked back toward the kitchen, leaving Akira to clean up the mess.
Akira just exhaled a sigh, looking away from Shiki's retreating form once Shiki passed through the door leading into the kitchen. He glanced at the plate on the table and picked it up onto his tray. There were people staring at him but he ignored them.
✝
♱
After that incident, Akira had been told to go wash the dishes in the kitchen. Things had quieted down and the cafe didnt need as many servers out there anymore. Youji, Konoe, and Rin were all better equipped in terms of personality to deal with customers, so Akira had been the best choice for being moved to the kitchen. Especially after that incident. He and Shiki (though it was mostly Shiki) had gotten a stern lecture from Bardo about not picking a fight with the customers. Akira hadn't really paid attention or cared.
Akira busily scrubbed the plates and utensils in the sink. Bubbles of soap lathered under the running water. He stacked the dishes one by one into the bin beside the sink after he rinsed them.
Someone wrapped their arms around him.
Akira tensed, ready to strike, before he realized it was just Shiki. Then he instinctively relaxed, and Akira was annoyed at the fact that he did, considering relaxing when he had his back toward Shiki should be the last thing he did. He hadn't even heard Shiki coming up behind him over the sound of the running water and him stacking plates.
What was Shiki even doing here? And what was he thinking, putting his arms around Akira like this in plain sight when Rai and Makoto were in the kitchen?
He felt Shiki lean into his back, his arms winding tighter around Akira’s waist. A chuckle ghosted over his ear, teasing and ticklish. Shiki had caught the small moment of weakness. Akira's nape prickled.
His hand paused with the sponge he was holding as Shiki pulled him back toward his chest.
"Meet me in the storage room on your break," Shiki said, his voice low and chilling in Akira's ear.
Akira's mood soured at that demand. If he could side-eye Shiki from this angle, he would. "I don't take orders from you," he said, biting the words out. He resumed scrubbing the plate.
Anyone else would have been intimidated by Akira's cold attitude, but given that this was Shiki, he just enjoyed seeing Akira's display of defiance. Akira could hear the smirk in Shiki's voice as Shiki scoffed out his usual "hmph" before releasing Akira from his arms and backing off.
Akira felt like he could exhale again now that Shiki was no longer breathing down his neck. He glared at Shiki's back as he watched Shiki return to his station in the kitchen.
✝
♱
"So? What do you want?" Akira hoped this would be quick. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Shiki's games.
It wasn't often that he went to the storage room. Inside, there were shelves stocked with boxes and plastic containers of ingredients. Shiki was standing with his arms folded and his back leaning against the wall. Apparently he'd known Akira was going to come despite the rejection earlier.
Unfolding his arms, he stepped toward Akira and closed in on him, backing him up against the door. Shiki seemed like he was planning on making it clear what he wanted through actions rather than words. As usual.
Shiki reached a hand out, pushing the door to the storage room closed as Akira's back came against it. Akira was then left trapped between Shiki and the door, Shiki's arm blocking one side of his escape.
Akira eyed Shiki warily, but the caution in his expression slipped away as soon as Shiki took his face into his hands. It was gentle, and Shiki tilted Akira's face up. Akira caught a glance of red eyes before Shiki leaned his head forward and kissed him.
Akira's slight surprise was stifled by Shiki's lips pressing against his own. He felt Shiki's tongue graze over his lips, trying to dip into the entrance of his mouth.
Closing his eyes, Akira parted his lips and let Shiki's tongue slide into his mouth.
He'd sort of known it was going to end up like this when Shiki had told him to meet him in the storage room. Where else could they have some privacy in the cafe?
Shiki's hand slid from the side of his face and into his hair. He grasped a few strands and kissed Akira harder, his fingers tugging on Akira’s scalp with enough force that it was firm but not painful. Their tongues were wet and probing, saliva mixing in each other's mouths.
Akira winded his arms around Shiki, hands clutching at his back. Shiki's hands weren't on his face any more but now they were on his nape and his back, actively pulling Akira closer to him as though he had no intention of ever letting Akira go. The wet and shameless sounds of their kissing were loud in the otherwise quiet room. They were just lucky hardly anyone ever entered the storage room since it was mostly Shiki's territory. He was the one who stocked most of the cafe's food so he was given free reign over it, and he usually got pissy when people "trespassed" into this room.
Clearly he had no problem letting Akira in though. Shiki pushed Akira against the door, pressing into him with the front of his body. Akira grunted into Shiki's mouth, his hand clutching the back of Shiki’s hair. Shiki's tongue was a constant force in his mouth.
Shiki was hard, and he kept grinding his hips against Akira's like he wanted Akira to do something about it. Akira tried to grunt his disapproval, but it came out more like a moan into Shiki's mouth, his voice low and breathy. Shiki seemed to know just the right way to grind against him, because he was bucking his hips in a way that indulged Akira's cock, and heat was starting to coil in Akira's stomach.
Akira couldn't ignore it any longer. Pushing Shiki away, he let himself catch his breath. He wiped the saliva at his mouth away with the back of his hand, and then after giving Shiki a quick once-over, dropped to his knees.
There was no way he could have missed the shift in Shiki's eyes, however slight it was. It flickered across Shiki's gaze for a few seconds, and then Shiki regarded him with thinly veiled but discernible curiosity.
"This is a surprise," Shiki said, amusement curling in his voice.
Seemed like everyone was getting surprised today. "Just shut up and let me do this," Akira said. If Shiki didn't want him to suddenly change his mind about this, then it would be in his best interest to keep his mouth shut. Akira glanced up, and he was further agitated to see Shiki's smirk deepening, but at least that mouth remained closed and there wasn't a single disdainful remark out of it.
They'd never engaged in this sort of act while at work before. Usually they fucked at Shiki's place. Shiki's eyes were sharp on him, watching his every move as Akira pulled down the zipper of his pants. Akira reached for Shiki's cock, guiding it out through the hole of his pants. It looked as hot and hard as it felt.
Akira gave a few pumps around the exposed cock, his hand wrapped firm around it. Shiki was already this hard; Akira wondered if Shiki was more turned on than usual because they were doing this while they were still at work. Akira would probably never get what was going on inside his head, but right now that didn't matter to him as he parted his lips and took Shiki into his mouth.
The moment Akira put his mouth around him, he caught sight of Shiki tensing slightly. Felt it in his mouth too, the way Shiki suddenly throbbed on his tongue. Akira went down on him, lowering his mouth as much as he could. He wasn't all the way down to the base of his cock, his throat still a little tight, but it was close enough.
He let his mouth linger there, tongue pushing against the shaft before he lifted his head back up and let Shiki's cock slip out of his mouth. It was all wet and coated with his saliva, and Akira's hand had a much better time jerking it now that his strokes were more slick.
Shiki was quiet, but that was to be expected. The man rarely made sounds, and if he did, they were little more than slight breaths or grunts. Akira glanced up, only to see Shiki gazing down at him. There was the faintest curl peeking at the corner of Shiki's lips. The smile was in his eyes more than it was his mouth.
Akira furrowed his brows, wondering what Shiki was looking so gratified for. It was definitely a bad idea to be doing this while they were at work, but that probably turned Shiki on more than it did off. Akira knew he shouldn't be enabling him, and yet for all the rationality in his head, none of it stopped him from taking Shiki into his mouth again.
Akira's face was starting to feel warm. The low exhale he heard slipping past Shiki's lips as Akira dragged his tongue against him all but exacerbated the heat prickling Akira's skin. His heartbeat was steady but loud, adrenaline rushing through him and spurring on the hand that was still pumping part of Shiki's cock. Akira circled his hand around it while he moved his tongue, faintly aware of how risky this was, blood flowing warm and thick in his ears. His abdomen was tight.
Damn Shiki. It was all his fault. It was all because he'd acted so weird earlier that Akira's own thoughts were in a haze right now.
He'd thought Shiki had come out of the kitchen to humiliate him further and join in on harassing him, but instead he'd come out to tell the man off. Granted, Shiki had handled it in the worst way possible and had gotten them both scolded for it. If there was anyone even worse at customer service than Akira, it was Shiki.
But he had come and defended Akira. That was a definite first for Shiki, no matter how much Shiki might try to deny it.
…This was getting annoying to think about, like all things that involved Shiki. Shiki somehow always managed to mess with his head like this. Akira sucked harder, as if attempting to will away those complicated thoughts by focusing on the task at hand. It wasn't like he was doing this to pay Shiki back for standing up for him, if it could even be called that. He was doing it just because. He would get Shiki off, and that would be the end of it.
Shiki's cock was hot on his tongue, but the heat of it was starting to get diluted with the warmth of his mouth. Akira flicked his tongue over the slit, tasting the faint salt of pre-cum that leaked every so often. Shiki slipped his hand into Akira's hair, and the touch was electrifying. A ghosting sensation of tingles rose on Akira's skin. Shiki's fingers slid through his hair, running along his scalp in a manner that was entirely too affectionate considering whose hand this was. Akira felt a shudder at his nape when Shiki's hand came to roam over the back of his head. Shiki held him there while Akira sucked.
Shiki then lifted his hand from Akira's hair, and a soft sound escaped Akira's throat at the loss of contact. It was an involuntary response; Akira hadn't meant to let his voice out. He tried not to think about how needy his voice had sounded as Shiki pulled his hips back, his wet cock slipping out of Akira's mouth.
Akira took this opportunity to catch his breath and swallow down the saliva that had been building up in his throat. He watched as Shiki undid the button of his pants and tugged them down, letting the entirety of his cock come into view, no longer confined through the hole.
Akira's own cock twitched in his pants at the sight. He was a little breathless, his gaze lingering. He licked his lips; they felt like they were drying faster than they should. There really was no going back now.
He took Shiki into his hand again, pumping him while his mouth lapped at the head of his cock. It was wet and gleaming at the tip. His hand was sliding up and down the shaft, occasionally squeezing as if he could milk some cum out of him right there. Shiki was so hard and swollen that Akira wondered if even coming once would be enough to sate him.
It was when Shiki's hand came toward the back of his head again, finding a spot to rest in his hair, did Akira suddenly feel Shiki's cock filling his mouth, reaching in deep. Akira forgot to breathe for a second. There was a pressure on the back of his head, and then soon enough he was following the push of Shiki's hand.
They fell into a steady rhythm. Akira wasn't sure how much of it was Shiki's hand guiding him, and how much of it was his own head moving, but they were in sync, and it was a continuous motion of Akira's head sliding back and forth. Akira's hand was curled into a fist around the base of Shiki's cock, his mouth coming to meet against it whenever Shiki pushed his head forward. Akira felt his tongue sliding under Shiki's cock; he could barely move it around as Shiki seemed to fill his mouth entirely, very nearly reaching his throat.
When Akira was finally given a chance to pull back, it was with a few coughs and breaths for air, his saliva dripping down Shiki's cock. While waiting for his breaths to settle, he continued working at it with his hand, spreading saliva all over the already wet shaft. He lifted Shiki's cock up and stuck his tongue out, giving a lick at his balls. He heard Shiki exhale, and it sounded close to a moan—as close to one as Akira had ever heard from the man.
Akira took that as his cue to continue.
Using his mouth, he lapped at his balls, sometimes softly nipping them with his lips. All the while, he felt Shiki throbbing in his hand where he was still pumping the shaft. It was swollen and so hard and thick; the way it pulsed was almost too much for Akira to keep grasp of. Akira was starting to think that this was turning Shiki on more than the man let on.
Shiki's hand was on his hair again. This time he was smoothing Akira's hair down in a slow caress, from the crown of his head to his nape. His hand was gentle and light on his scalp. He was… petting Akira.
Akira felt heat pricking at his skin where his face and neck burned up. He nearly shuddered, cold tingles vibrating across his nape from the touch of Shiki's fingers. Breathing hotly on Shiki's cock, he dragged his tongue over and around his balls, wetting them thoroughly, before then deciding to take one into his mouth.
Shiki's hand tightened into a hard grip on his hair, and he felt Shiki tensing in his mouth. There was a distinct inhale. The grip on his hair loosened a moment later, and Akira started sucking gently. Above him, he heard the subtle grunts and breaths that Shiki exhaled as he did. The low, breathy sounds went straight to the heat stirring in Akira's cock.
Akira glanced up to see Shiki's lips slightly parted, the strain of his jaw and neck barely visible from this angle. His own cock ached at the sight of Shiki looking so affected with arousal, the usual control he exerted barely there. Akira's blood ran hot under his skin.
Tch. Akira knew he should stop; maybe tease Shiki a bit and get back at him for all the times he bothered Akira, but he didn't want to stop seeing (and hearing) the way Shiki was slowly losing himself. If he stopped, he knew Shiki would use the moment to take back control, and Akira wasn't ready to let up just yet.
He lifted his mouth, only to switch and suck on the other one. Occasionally his tongue worked between the two; whatever would help get more sounds out of Shiki. Shiki was petting his hair again, only this time it was less tender and with more impulse. He was mussing up Akira's hair and bucking his hips toward Akira's hand, pre-cum leaking down his cock messily.
Akira’s face was practically pressed up against Shiki's groin like this. He lifted his gaze to meet Shiki's eyes. Shiki was as pale as ever without a hint of a flush on his skin, but there was a look in his eyes that Akira couldn't interpret. It wasn't one of the glares that he often sent Akira, nor was it one of his mocking and sneering looks. It was… something unfamiliar, and it was almost surreal seeing this expression on Shiki. Akira wondered what kind of face he himself was making in front of Shiki right now; if he, too, was also making an expression unlike himself.
It seemed like Shiki was finally taking back control when he pulled his cock away from Akira's mouth and held the tip at Akira's lips. Akira barely had the time to part them before Shiki was filling his mouth in a single, smooth thrust.
Shiki held his hips there for a moment, letting out an exhale. And then he started moving.
Akira remained still while Shiki held his head there with one hand, pounding into his face mercilessly. He was pulling in and out of Akira's mouth, his hard cock sliding back and forth over his tongue. Akira's throat eased open around Shiki's cock, no longer tight like before.
Akira was getting a whiff of Shiki's scent whenever Shiki thrust in, his cock reaching deep enough into Akira's mouth for Akira's face to be at his groin. It made Akira lightheaded, and his vision went a little hazy. The heat got to his head, and he reached down to finally take his cock out of his pants, breathing a moan when his hand came to curl around it. He clenched his cock and started jerking himself off.
"I didn't think you'd be open to doing this at work," Shiki murmured while his hips continued thrusting into Akira's face. Akira's ears caught how barely strained Shiki's breathing was, even over the wet, distracting sounds of his mouth taking Shiki's cock.
Akira grunted in response, trying to convey as much indignation as possible through his voice. Was Shiki trying to tease him? Or was he expressing genuine surprise? Either way, Shiki sounded like he was pleased by this revelation. Akira had no doubt their fuck sessions were going to extend into work as well going forward. He'd probably just set a terrible precedent with this, but Akira couldn't bring himself to care all that much, not when his hand was squeezing around his aching cock and his eyes were going a little glazed from the force of Shiki fucking into his mouth.
He could hear the smile in Shiki's voice as Shiki purred throughout the melody of his breaths, "You like this, too."
Shiki said it like it was a fact. Like he knew Akira better than Akira knew himself. His smug attitude pissed Akira off, but what pissed Akira off even more was that he was entirely correct in his assumption. There was nothing Akira could say that wouldn't contradict how hard he was stroking himself right now to the act of sucking Shiki off in the storage room.
Akira glared up at him, but he wasn't sure how much of its intensity was lost from his mouth being stretched open by Shiki's cock. Shiki chuckled, and the sound of his breathy voice made the heat twisting in the pit of Akira's stomach sink even lower.
"You want me to stop talking."
Shiki was looking down at him with that self-assured smirk of his. Akira met his gaze steadfastly, challenging those red eyes. Shiki's smile deepened for a moment, seeing Akira's expression, and then he started facefucking Akira harder than before.
It was just past the level of comfortable, Akira straining to breathe whenever Shiki's cock was at the back of his throat. Shiki's scent was all he could take in when he breathed. Shiki groaned quietly, pulling his hips back and forth and filling Akira's mouth all the way each time he thrust in, sliding between his wet lips. Akira's ears clung onto every heady sound that left Shiki's mouth, heat rushing through him and down to his cock where it ached. He could only catch his breath whenever Shiki allowed him to, his saliva leaving a trail on Shiki's cock when Shiki pulled out of his mouth.
Akira could barely think straight. He focused on stroking himself, his cock twitching hotly in his hand while his thoughts got pushed out of his head with each thrust from Shiki. He moaned softly around Shiki's cock as it pumped in and out of his mouth. All he had to do was keep his mouth open for Shiki; let Shiki make a mess of it.
He wrapped his arm around Shiki's leg, clinging to it while Shiki fucked his mouth heedlessly. It was impossible not to let his voice out when Shiki's hand was running through his hair and Shiki's breaths were a little stilted, the way he bucked his hips into Akira's mouth so forcefully an indication that he wasn't nearly as composed as he made himself out to be. More than once he felt Shiki throbbing on his tongue, and Shiki would pull back almost all the way until it passed, letting out a shuddering breath. And then he would slowly slide back into Akira's mouth until Akira's lips were at the base of his cock. He would hold himself there, taking a moment to breathe and steadying himself before moving again.
He was trying to stop himself from coming, it seemed. Maybe he was doing this because he wanted to get caught, or because it felt good and so he wanted to prolong it as much as possible. Nothing about Shiki made sense. Anyone else would've tried to make this as quick as possible to minimize the risk of getting caught, but Shiki wasn't exactly like most people. Though maybe Akira wasn't so normal himself, either, because here he was getting off to this whole situation, and he was the one who'd instigated the entire thing.
It was when Shiki's cock stiffened against the roof of his mouth that Akira could tell he was close. Shiki's thrusts started getting faster and jerkier. He was pulling back just a bit before driving in again, as if he couldn't bear to leave Akira's mouth at all. There was a final burst of quick thrusts, his hand curling tight into Akira's hair, and then his hips stilled against Akira's face and he was coming in Akira's mouth.
A warning would have been nice, but considering this was Shiki, it wasn't much of a surprise that he just did as he pleased. Akira held his head there, his mind going hazy while Shiki's cum filled his mouth. It was hot and thick, spurting onto his tongue, against the walls of his mouth, and down his throat. It was almost enough to make Akira come, too, his hand still frantically jerking his cock. His legs shook with every stroke, and when he found the right angle for his hand to glide against it, his body tensed up even more. The strong contractions he felt in his mouth from Shiki's cock was the final push and he moaned as he came, his cum spilling onto the floor.
The seconds seemed long while pleasure burst from his cock, his hand trembling as he milked himself through it. Shiki was still coming in his mouth, too, but then he pulled out, grunting quietly and holding his cock to Akira's face. His other hand was gripping Akira by the hair, tilting Akira's head back a little. He pumped out a few more spurts, and Akira watched the hole of his cock twitch as they landed on his cheek and jaw.
He could tell Shiki had stopped coming when Shiki let go of his cock. It pulsed a few more times over Akira's face, and then Akira took it into his hand, bringing the tip to his mouth. He lapped at the slit, tonguing it and cleaning up the slight dribble of cum that was still there. Shiki was slowly combing through Akira's mussed up hair with his hand, fingers skimming through the strands.
Shiki watched him wipe away the mess on his face, and then he tugged on Akira's shoulder. Akira inhaled a deep breath, standing up. He barely had time to react before Shiki was dragging him past several shelves and over to the steel work table in the corner. Shiki trapped him against it, planting his hands on the table, his arms on both sides of Akira.
The kiss that followed was messy and rough. It was kissing for the sake of it; careless and lacking in deliberation. Akira was out of breath and his jaw was aching. The kiss definitely wasn't helping, yet he still found himself winding his arms around Shiki's neck, letting Shiki slide his tongue deeper into his mouth. Their lips came together, warm and wet. He doubted his mouth was pleasant to taste right now but that didn't seem to deter Shiki, who lapped at his tongue hungrily, his hot breaths pooling into Akira's mouth.
He felt Shiki reaching down to grope him from behind. Akira tensed and reached his own hand down to grab Shiki's and tug it away, but it was firm and refused to budge. So he huffed into Shiki's mouth, and Shiki snuck in another squeeze after seeing Akira relent.
It was when he felt Shiki tugging at his pants that Akira really pulled Shiki's hands away.
Akira furrowed his brows at him. "What the hell are you doing?"
Shiki raised a brow, as if to say the answer was obvious. There was a condescending edge to the way he looked at Akira—only Shiki could manage to look so imperious with just a shift in his eyes.
"Don't tell me you intend to stop here." Shiki's voice was flat, but his disapproval rang clear.
Akira stared at him, his jaw almost going slack. Shiki was actually serious. He wanted to do it here, in the storage room, while they were still at work.
"You're insane," Akira said, though that wasn't exactly news. He gave Shiki a scathing look.
Shiki was smirking. "You're the one who started this."
As if Akira needed a reminder. He was still contemplating whether or not he should regret his decision, though it was too late to fix it now. He should've known Shiki would escalate it to this.
"We have to get back to work soon," Akira said. It was a convenient excuse, but a logical one. "They'll probably come looking for us when they realize we're not there."
Shiki hardly looked concerned. "There's still half the time left."
Akira knew that was true even without checking his phone to confirm the time. He couldn't have spent more than ten minutes sucking Shiki off.
It was a bad idea, still. But Shiki was the type of person to do whatever it took to get what he wanted. He wasn't going to let Akira walk away from this so easily; that much was clear.
Akira exhaled a sigh. "Fine," he said, though he might've been yielding too easily. He wasn't completely against the idea; he just didn't like making it easy for Shiki, especially when Shiki would surely get arrogant about it if Akira gave in without any resistance. "Let's make this quick."
"Hmph." Shiki must've agreed, because he made Akira turn around so they were both facing the table. He reached one hand out to pull on Akira's tie and loosen his collar; the other hand worked at unbuttoning Akira's vest, and once that was open, he worked at the white button-down underneath. As the buttons popped open one by one, more of Akira's skin was revealed.
It didn't take long for Akira to get hard again as Shiki's fingers suddenly twisted his nipples. Akira jerked, his voice escaping his throat in a soft sound before he closed his mouth shut, tightening his jaw. He exhaled through his nose, his breaths shuddery while Shiki continued playing with his nipples, teasing and pulling on them. Akira could feel how hard and sensitive they were as Shiki rolled them between his fingers.
He cast his gaze downward, watching as his cock stiffened more in response to the sharp tugs on his nipples. Shiki was squeezing them hard with his fingers. It wasn't overly painful, but it was enough to make Akira's back arch slightly.
Akira was starting to feel warm in spite of the low temperature in the room. Shiki's cock pressed against his clothed backside as Shiki leaned into him, already hard again, too. He heard the faintest exhale from Shiki, warm and soft over the shell of his ear, and a shudder rolled down Akira's spine. Shiki started moving his hips, grinding against him. Akira gritted his teeth, and then he tugged his pants down so he could feel Shiki directly.
He was starting to get flustered in spite of himself. There was no way he could ignore the heat of Shiki's cock sliding back and forth on his skin, so hot and stiff. Shiki continued grinding against him like this, his low breaths caressing Akira's ear. Akira slowly started moving his hips back against Shiki to match him, his stomach twisting with heat.
Then Shiki pulled away, stepping back, and Akira felt a distinct loss of warmth. Akira turned his head and watched as Shiki rummaged through the shelves for something.
That thing turned out to be a bottle of oil.
Shiki soon returned to his place behind Akira. Akira felt the hairs on his nape rise as he heard the unambiguous sound of the bottle's cap being popped open.
"The door," Akira said. He could feel Shiki's hand brushing against him while Shiki coated himself in the oil.
"It's locked." The cap closed. Shiki's hand came around to stroke Akira's cock, getting it coated as well while his other hand set the bottle on the table.
"Liar," Akira muttered, his breaths stilted, belying his aggravation. Shiki's hand felt too good. He heard a slight chuckle from Shiki, the smooth voice ghosting over his ear.
"Then you should make sure you stay quiet," were Shiki's words of wisdom. He lifted his hand from Akira's cock and pushed his hips forward to meet Akira's.
Akira inhaled as Shiki's cock slid between his thighs, slick and warm. He took a moment to swallow and gather himself, his saliva thick in his throat, before asking, "What are you doing?"
"It'll be fine like this," Shiki said. His hands were at Akira's hips, and he pulled back, only to slide his cock back in between Akira's thighs again.
It was awkward, but Akira couldn't deny the way Shiki was grinding against him right now felt nice. Shiki was pressed up close against his back, his warmth falling onto Akira's skin. He bucked his hips, thrusting into the small gap between Akira's legs. It was smooth down there thanks to the oil; Akira could practically feel Shiki's cock slipping against his skin as Shiki pulled in and out.
Soon Shiki's thrusts started to get rougher, his hands nearly bruising Akira's hips with how hard he was gripping them. It was a muted kind of pain; a soothing ache that kept the buzz of arousal high and alive in Akira's mind. Akira leaned forward slightly, bracing himself by holding onto the edge of the table with his hand. Shiki was slamming his cock in between his legs, doing it so roughly that the thrusts rocked Akira against the table.
Shiki pulled Akira's hips back so Akira would meet his thrusts. It was almost like Shiki was fucking him, except his cock was going between Akira's thighs instead of inside of him. Shiki's balls slapped against him with every thrust, the sounds embarrassingly slick and heavy. The filthy noise of it echoed in the room.
Moans started to fall from Akira's mouth, especially as his hand came to curl around his cock. He pumped himself, his strokes adding to the slick sounds of Shiki fucking his thighs. Akira gritted his teeth but it wasn't enough to keep down the whines in his throat. He wondered if the sounds could be heard through the walls. His heart pounded hard in his chest at that thought, almost bursting from his ribcage, even as pre-cum leaked out his cock. It must've been the riskiness of this that was making him so sensitive, because there wasn't really any other reason he could think of for why he was feeling so good just from Shiki grinding against him like this.
Akira's eyes darted to the edge of the table he'd been gripping when he felt Shiki's hand settling on top of his own, warm and firm. Shiki lowered his head to Akira's and breathed hotly in his ear, his groans faint. His entire presence seemed to cling to Akira; Akira couldn't take his mind off the weight that enveloped his back. For some reason, it turned him on to hear—and feel—Shiki enjoying this so much. Shiki was eagerly thrusting, and Akira could feel how hot and hard Shiki was, his cock sliding nonstop between Akira's thighs.
Akira's breaths were falling out of pace. Saliva wetted the corner of his lips. Shiki's heat on his back seemed intoxicating during this moment. All he could hear was Shiki's breaths in his ear; other sounds came slightly muffled to him. He stared ahead at the wall, his gaze turning distant, blurs of light and shadows falling into vision. A hot flush took over his face. Shiki's warmth was enveloping him, almost consuming him. His body burned with pleasure; he felt like he might melt in Shiki's hold if the heat got any more intense.
Akira jerked himself faster, his hand going wild in its strokes. His cock was aching badly and it was so needy; pre-cum was leaking out of it, getting smeared against his desperate hand. He moaned from the back of his throat, trying to satisfy his swollen cock with his tight grip. It was a balance between breathing and trying to keep his voice low. Shiki's cock was rubbing against his own in a way that felt weirdly good; Akira squeezed his legs in hopes of feeling more.
Shiki only fucked his thighs faster at that. Akira's legs trembled, bearing the force of his relentless thrusts. Shiki's hand—the one that wasn't clutching Akira's on the table—came up to Akira's stomach, fingers spread wide against his skin. Heat stretched across Akira's abdomen where Shiki's hand deftly roamed over it, exploring the lines of his muscles. Everywhere that Shiki touched him, the sensation was imprinted in his mind.
Shiki's hand swept across to the side of his waist, and then he pulled Akira in by it, his arm holding him close and steady. Their bodies were pressed flush together like this, with only the slight distance between them being at their hips from when Shiki pulled back before slamming in roughly again, burrowing his cock into Akira's thighs. He knew Shiki was about to come when Shiki's thrusts got more uncontrolled and jerky, like his cock was chasing for more and more from Akira. Akira had come to recognize this trait about him, after the numerous times he and Shiki had fucked. Shiki was thrusting incessantly as though his hips were physically unable to stop, his movements dictated by impulse rather than control.
He realized Shiki was coming when there was suddenly hot spurts on his legs. Shiki's cock was still slipping between his thighs, thrusting slowly and smearing his heat all over. His breaths smothered Akira's ear with hot air.
It was faint, and it was hard to hear over the sound of his own heart beating in his warm ears, but Akira could've sworn he heard Shiki murmuring a low "Akira" alongside all the breaths he was exhaling. Whether or not Shiki had actually said his name, Akira had no time to think about it before the heat rushed from his head down to his cock and he was coming too, trembling and biting back his moans.
His hips strained toward his hand that was holding his cock. Hot cum shot forth, the white spurts and drops landing on the table. The mess gleamed on the reflective surface of the steel. Akira panted and stroked himself while his cock spasmed and continued to spill. It should have bothered him that he was making such a mess on the table, but at this point he was too far gone to care. All that was left in his head now was soft heat, his eyes unable to focus. While his cock pulsed with pleasure, the rest of his body could do nothing but ride it out.
Akira didn't even realize he was sweating until he finally returned to lucidity. Then he was acutely aware of the droplets sliding down his temple and neck, while his skin remained burning warm from all that bodily heat.
He was panting a little. Akira swallowed, tired, but it was the mellow kind of fatigue, the muscles in his limbs slack and his body light. His hearing was muffled and slightly ringing. It felt like there was fluff in his head and ears. Maybe that was what distracted him from realizing that Shiki had taken his jaw into his hand and turned his head to the side. Akira only realized what was going on when he felt Shiki's lips pressing over his own, warm and light, his hand no longer on Akira's jaw but now holding his cheek.
It always caught him off guard whenever Shiki kissed him like this.
It wasn't like their usual kisses where they would indulge and take from each other's mouths. With this particular kiss, there was no slide of tongues between them; Shiki's lips remained soft and unparted against his. They kissed for what seemed like more than a few seconds before the gentle weight of Shiki's lips lifted away. His breath passed over Akira's lips warmly, and then he pulled back enough for Akira to see his face in its full view.
As usual, Shiki would never give an explanation, and Akira would never demand one.
There was an unnamable look in Shiki's eyes. Akira's chest curled with something. Then Shiki blinked and it was gone; fleeting, crimson eyes back to holding the sharp edge they usually did. Akira would've thought he'd just imagined the difference if he didn't know any better. He'd been getting that kind of look from Shiki a lot more lately. Enough to know it wasn't just a figment of his imagination.
"You should clean up the mess you made," Shiki said, his tone making it sound like he was chiding Akira, but there was a wide smirk on his face.
Akira glanced away, already annoyed. They were back to their usual hostility, it seemed. "…Shut up. You're cleaning this too. You've got just as much responsibility for this."
He wrestled himself out of Shiki's hold. Shiki let him go easily.
Cleaning the table and the floor wasn't all that bad. Akira made sure to use disinfectants and all that, because admittedly, it bothered him that this was where food was stored, and he and Shiki had just fucked in this place. What was even more annoying to clean up, though, was the mess Shiki had left on his legs. Akira was going to need a proper shower as soon as he got home.
They went back to work and Akira didn't talk to Shiki for the rest of his shift.
✝
♱
The next time they fucked was sooner than expected.
Ten minutes hadn't even passed since the end of their shifts. Akira had barely finished changing out of his work clothes and into his casual ones before Shiki had grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hall.
They were in the storage room again. Shiki pushed him against the wall, his hand tugging down the zipper of Akira's jacket and instantly feeling him up under his shirt. The cold, skillful touch of his fingers made Akira shiver. Any protest that might've come out of his mouth was effectively muffled by Shiki's tongue. Before he knew it, his pants were off and his legs were around Shiki's waist.
Akira wrapped his arms around Shiki's neck, shamefully glancing down at how hard he'd gotten just from Shiki roughing him up. At least the door was locked this time. Shiki's hands were holding him, keeping Akira lifted against the wall while his cock stretched him open.
Akira held his breath in his throat, watching as Shiki's cock went into him. He could feel himself clenching around Shiki, his mind already numbing to the heat. His body was already this used to Shiki's cock with the way it slid into him so easily, yet it was like he could never get enough of it.
Akira wasn't even sure what he sought from these arrangements. For Shiki, it could at least be said his ego benefitted from being able to subdue Akira like this. All Akira knew about his own reasons was that he was too far gone into this to let it stop now.
He'd disliked working at the same cafe as Shiki at first, but he couldn't deny the man was steady in his work ethic, and somewhere along the way, Akira had come to appreciate that about him. Shiki was ridiculously stubborn, headstrong, and a serial troublemaker. He never listened to anyone, not even his superiors, as evidenced by how he still broke into the cafe through the windows on a daily basis and was the culprit for the cafe's high repair costs. But if there was a task that ever needed to be completed, Akira knew he could count on Shiki to get it done. Shiki loathed incompetency, after all, and Akira couldn't deny he found that part of Shiki dependable, especially when their other coworkers messed up so often.
He would never admit any of this out loud, of course.
Akira had his back to the wall, getting rocked against it with each thrust Shiki made into him. He clung desperately to Shiki's back, his hands clutching his coat. Shiki's cock was fucking into him so deep—Akira moaned, feeling like a disheveled mess with all the layers of clothes between them. His jacket had fallen off his shoulders, and the sleeves were clinging to him at his elbows.
Akira's breaths were shallow, coming out fast. His face was hot and flushed, and he could barely focus his vision. He was seeing, but not really looking, his mind too preoccupied with the waves of pleasure that spread through him, heat rising on his skin. His mouth was wet with saliva that he was too dazed to lick up with his tongue, but he felt Shiki's mouth kissing away at his lips, and then his tongue dipped into Akira's mouth.
Red eyes—that was all he saw for a moment before he closed his eyes and kissed Shiki back.
Just feeling Shiki's tongue in his mouth, warm and wet and deep, was enough to make him quiver. He couldn't focus on two things at once—the kiss and the intense sensation of Shiki thrusting inside of him, but his mind and body managed it somehow.
Akira clutched the back of Shiki's head and kissed him harder, uncaring if he was messing Shiki's hair up, especially when Shiki seemed like he didn't care, either. Every time Shiki thrust into him, the force of it swept his thoughts away, until Shiki pulled back. And then it repeated, his cock pushing into Akira as much as the pleasure pushed all semblance of reason out of his mind. It was easier to just moan Shiki's name in his head than to string together any other thought.
Akira lowered his hand to his aching cock, squeezing it and feeling drops of pre-cum leak out. He was so hard and hot in his hand; Akira could barely keep his moans down even with Shiki kissing him like this. His voice was soft and needy in his throat. Head burning with feverish want, he jerked himself off, giving his cock the rough strokes that it was aching and dripping for.
He let out his voice into Shiki's mouth when he tensed up and started coming. It spurted, thick and hot from his cock and onto his own shirt, staining it. His legs were shaking, but Shiki's hands kept him steady and lifted. Akira clenched hard with several twitches around Shiki's cock while he came, his body unable to help itself. There was a faint moan that Shiki breathed into his mouth as Shiki started coming, too, his cock pushing in and spilling deep inside Akira.
Akira kept pumping his cock, not even caring that it was aimed at his own shirt when all he wanted was to drag out the pleasure for as long as possible. The muscles in his abdomen clenched and contracted, the same way his cock was pulsing. He felt Shiki's cock spasming in him all the while, spurting so much into him, hot and messy.
Their tongues slipped out of each other's mouths and they were panting. They inhaled, listening to the sounds of each other's breaths.
Then, slowly, Shiki started pulling out of him. There was some resistance as he did, up to the head of his cock. Then Akira felt and heard Shiki's cock popping out of him the moment it slipped free. He hadn't even realized how much he'd clamped up around him, his whole body drawn tight.
Now that Shiki's cock was out of him, he felt distinctly hollow there, as if his body had gotten so used to Shiki being inside of him. The notion flustered Akira. He tried to breathe slowly and calm his expression, though he was sure that hardly helped to disguise how flushed and disheveled he probably looked right now. There was hot cum dribbling out of him, falling onto Shiki's cock just below and then dripping down to the floor. It was a weird sensation that Akira had never quite gotten used to; only got better at ignoring over time.
He felt Shiki's hands lowering his legs, and Akira took that as his cue to stand with his feet on the floor again. He still had his arm hooked around Shiki's neck, and for a moment he paused and just focused on Shiki's breaths on his face, warm and faint. Their foreheads were touching, and Akira looked into his cool, red eyes.
Then he felt Shiki shoving something into his hand.
"Open it when you get home."
The words ghosted Akira's lips. Shiki's voice was controlled for the most part, but there was a slight sway to his breathing that Akira's ears caught onto. He glanced down at the box in his hand that Shiki had given him. Akira stared at it, his expression contorting into confusion, and then he lifted his gaze back up to Shiki, raising his brow as if demanding an explanation. Shiki said nothing though, and he stepped back and pulled away, letting Akira's arm slip from his neck.
Akira gave him a scrutinizing look before putting the box in the pocket of his jacket. He shrugged his jacket over his shoulders again, and then pulled his pants back on, ignoring the dripping warmth he still felt inside of him. He tried not to let it show on his face.
✝
♱
When he got home later that day, he opened the box to see an assortment of chocolates inside. It was a good idea to have opened it while he was at home with no one around him, because he was sure he wouldn't have been able to hide the surprise on his face.
The packaging was the one that the cafe used. Somehow, Akira knew instinctively that Shiki was the one who'd made these chocolates.
Sighing, he sat down and picked out one of the chocolates. There were sixteen pieces, and they all looked different, so they were probably going to be different flavors, too. Akira plopped the one he was holding into his mouth and started chewing.
It… didn't taste bad.
Akira didn't know why it even surprised him to find out they weren't terrible considering Shiki was one of the chefs in the kitchen and therefore occasionally made the desserts on their menu. And if the customers liked their desserts enough to keep coming back and buying them, then clearly Shiki must have some culinary skill.
The sweet flavor melted across his tongue. Akira didn't have a sweet tooth, but somehow Shiki had made it so the chocolate wasn't overwhelmingly sweet, but rather had a subtle taste. He exhaled a soft sigh once he finished that piece of chocolate.
It annoyed him just a bit to find out that it actually tasted good. And because he wasn't the type of person to waste food, he ate the rest of the chocolates.