Archive of Our Own

Ren returns to Tokyo after graduating high school. The gravitational pull draws him there and he has no choice really. His home city is small, and his parents never approve of anything he does and now that he’s eighteen he can go where he likes. He can escape their casual asides and cutting observations, returning to a place where if he doesn’t belong at least he can disappear into the crowds. There’s no better place to be invisible than a city of 30 million strangers.

And Ren does belong in Tokyo. When he steps off the Shinkansen, when he battles through Tokyo station, when he reaches Leblanc where his friends wait, it’s like a tense thing he held inside very slowly starts to dissolve. His parents don’t call to see if he arrived, and he doesn’t message them either. They’ll become holiday acquaintances, if that. And it’s fine. He’s let go of lingering resentment, his parents giving him up led him to his true self, but all he feels knowing their relationship is over is relief.

With high school done for most of them, their meetings are random and cobbled together, stolen time and rescheduled gatherings. A dozen different chat threads. Ann’s away and he thinks she will be for a long time, sending Ren cellphone photos and update texts at all hours. Makoto’s always busy with school, driven and refusing to be swayed from her path. Futaba’s feels her way through school. And even Ren’s slowly getting used to college, slowly getting used to the idea his friends are moving on, answering their phones less, finding excuses to gather less.

They’re autumn leaves now, scattered through Tokyo, meeting when a strong wind blows them together. Whenever that happens it’s like old times, everyone he cares about with him. Everyone but one person whose become an indistinct smudge in the world. Occasional stolen camera footage the only proof of life. Their relationship is no longer a chase, but a game of patience for a bird that might never return to his cage.

Ren settles back into a familiar routine with Sojiro, helping at the cafe, while he moves into his first college apartment with Morgana. His back enjoys not sleeping on milk crates and Morgana likes the tree outside the window that helps him slip outside. With the other lodestone of his life curiously demagnetized, Leblanc draws him closer. The familiar customers, the unchanging scent of coffee, cumin, cinnamon, Sojiro’s gruff but patient expectations, anchor him to the counter.

April, May, June float off on the breeze, college classes and student groups, and the occasional thief meetup, cozier than any home. He blinks and breathes and October’s slipping away, dark and lonely with the hint of a breeze. New friends that can’t know all of him, dates that don’t excite him, school and work and life on the horizon.

The bell jangles and Ren snaps out of his reverie. When the door opens, he almost drops the glass on the counter, and Morgana squeals in worry.

“Oh look,” Goro Akechi sighs, crossing his arms and staring while Ren watches, dumbstruck. “I thought I’d find you here.”

“Akechi,” Morgana hops up onto the chair and arches his back. “Why are you here?”

“He’s here to see me, Mona,” Ren says, his patience finally rewarded with the prize. Akechi laughs, the flat bitterness and the manic glee both transmuted into a more refined sound.

“You flatter yourself.” A smirk crosses his face, as he walks across the room.

“Oh?” Ren takes off his glasses and cleans them on his apron before fixing his too direct stare onto the very much alive long dead detective prince.

If Akechi’d been in the process of shedding all of his false skins the last time Ren saw him, he’s truly transformed now. Older. Still guarded and reserved but the tension sapped away. His hair feathers down to his shoulders and his brown blazer and slacks have an expensive sheen to them. Ren has gone idly into department stores over the past year, looking at different types of gloves and he knows these are better quality, supple leather stretched over elegant fingers.

“Well, I don’t care about that. You don’t hurt him,” Morgana says. Ren reaches down to pet his ears, trying to calm him.

“What’s the point?” Akechi tilts his head and narrows in on them. Morgana hisses, before Ren shoos him away. “You’ve already declared your victory.”

The knowing smile Akechi gives him kicks the floor away and Ren’s in freefall.

Akechi knew about Futaba’s cameras, alerting Ren to his rival’s survival. Once or twice, he stared into them, lifting his hand in salute. And in return, like a game with the volley in his court, Ren would post an image, a message, an insinuation online. It worked. Here is Goro Akechi, settling into his old seat in Leblanc. Ren smiles. Akechi sighs.

“Did you come for coffee or company?” Ren asks as Akechi settles his hand on his chin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Coffee for now.” He pulls out a textbook, and Ren’s tries to see he’s reading, but Akechi shakes his head. He cracks open the spine fingers obscuring the words.

“I would,” Ren turns away, picking out the beans, grinding them slowly, before making circular motions with the hot water over the filter. He puts as much heart and knowledge into it as the gesture allows. “You want to tell me where you’ve been?”

Akechi looks into Ren’s eyes, that red gaze direct and calculating. The rich scent of coffee comes between them, breathing in another life. He takes the coffee from Ren, closes his eyes and sips slowly.

“Traveling.” Akechi says at last. “Here and there.”

Ren has spent two years waiting him out, luring him here. He says nothing, keeping up the game, while he polishes another glass, rearranges the canisters. Works in companionable silence in the empty cafe, a cadence of breath and shuffling movement.

“I went abroad, actually,” Akechi says at last. “Have you been to London? All of the museums are free there, why not take advantage. European trains are slower. When I came back, I went to Kyoto, Fukuoka up north too, past Hokkaido. I find it cleared the mind. Shido left…” He pauses, stuttering, before changing course to tread familiar shallow waters. “I had some funds from my ‘detective prince’ days. Why not see how big the world is?”

“Oh.” Ren feels a strange pang of jealousy at all the new things he will never see with Akechi for the first time. “And you’re back, for good?”

“It appears that way.” Akechi smiles at him. “We all must pick up our lives from the ashes, I suppose. I took my entrance exams. I’ll be here.”

He’s given everything away he’s going to and it’s enough for Ren to magpie away and catalog later. The guarded look returns to Akechi’s eyes, while he glances up occasionally to watch Ren work. They pass the rest of that night quietly. Ren doles out curry to the handful of regulars while Akechi reads quietly at the bar.

“We should do this again,” Ren says, unable to keep Leblanc open any later, but refusing to let him go.

“Maybe something better,” Akechi says. “I have your number. I’ll be in touch.”

And then he vanishes like smoke into Tokyo’s still warm October night.

Akechi, with his incomprehensible internal code, keeps his word. The messages come slowly at first, hesitant invitations that begin with ‘I don’t suppose you’d be interested in’ or ‘would you care to accompany me’ or links to events, and Ren is unable to say no.

By the beginning of November, he’s slowly being courted by Goro Akechi, the rhythm different from all those high school meetings. They might be dating, Akechi might be toying with him, but like the fool he is, Ren calls off a second date with a girl in one of his classes and deletes all the apps. The company’s better with Akechi, witty and cutting, as the space between them whittles down to hairsbreadth.

Sometimes Akechi brings him strange rocks or ceramic shards that make sense only to him. Other times he hands Ren perfect orange leaves, newly fallen from the trees. He holds them out like some strange currency, placing them, one by one, into Ren’s waiting palm. A piece of sea glass weathered with age, bright blue with the logo scuffed off. He refuses to tell Ren where he found it, but Ren holds onto it, nestling it on top of the glove on his dresser. He presses the red maple leaves and orange chrysanthemum petals into an old textbook. He does not tell Morgana.

“Maybe we’ll look together one day,” Akechi says when pressed and Ren glows.

They’re two weeks into this strange entanglement, when things shift again. The Meguro canal is lit up in anticipation of the holidays as they walk alongside it after dinner. The harsh yellow and green lights diffuse across the water. They dance across Akechi’s face, transforming him into someone unearthly and devastatingly beautiful.

It’s late enough they’re the only two people on the street. The city’s noises have faded to muffled hums. Akechi breathes out the first ghosts of the oncoming winter. And Ren nearly drowns in his longing.

“Let’s watch the water,’ Ren says, grabbing Akechi’s arm, their first unexpected contact. Akechi gasps, a sharp sound, and says nothing. Instead of the water, he watches Ren, tongue darting out of his mouth before he bites his lip. Curiosity. Concern.

The air cracks around them. And Akechi takes Ren’s other hand, working their fingers together. Then, he grabs Ren’s chin to pull him closer. Ren nods, I want this, caught in his throat.

Akechi brushes his lips.

They’re soft. Insistent.

Ren aches. Arches into him.

They stay like that, pressed against the railing, as Akechi pries open his mouth. As Ren leans into it, kissing him back with an entirely expected fervor. A stranger’s footsteps interrupt them and Ren gasps. The moment’s gone. Akechi presses a hand to his mouth, dark-gloved fingers spread across his lips. They look at each other, ignoring the stranger before the walk home.

Ren’s allowed entrance into his apartment once, almost by accident. Akechi’s running late for another of their outings, so Ren swings by his Nakameguro studio. It’s cold enough that Akechi lets him inside instead of leaving him on the stoop to freeze.

The apartment is small, a studio with room for a bed, a table, and a small couch. It’s warm and bright, the buzzing ceiling light tempered by shades and another few lamps. Akechi’s filled this space with books, lying in piles around the bed and blanket the table and kitchen counters. Most are in Japanese, but some are in English. All the other items he owns are well made. Sturdy. Created to last.

Hand sewn notebooks with beautiful paper covers, artisanal ceramics, fine linens and well-tailored clothes. There’s a bonsai tree in the corner. When Rene asks about it, Akechi plays it off with a shrug. Ren had, once upon a time, cajoled a visit to the Kichijoji one bedroom under the guise of Phantom Thief business. That place was empty. Sterile. A holding cell before the prisoner’s execution. Standing in the doorway, glasses obscuring how he scans and studies every surface, he’s filled with warmth and hope.

Ren breaches the two steps between them, grabbing Akechi’s waist and kissing him. He gasps before leaning into Ren, into his lips before breaking apart, shakier than before.

“We should go,” Akechi sighs into Ren’s lips and he whines in protest. But he has seen the inside of Akechi’s apartment prematurely. It’s an intimacy, like the others he wants, that Akechi won’t or can’t give yet. They break apart and Ren rests a hand on his chest. Akechi leans into it, eyes closed for a moment before leading them to the door.

“It’s nice in here,” Ren says when they’re on the landing. “I like your tree.”

“They say pruning helps with being centered.” Akechi sighs. They go outside and the first blast of winter cold blows through them. Ren shivers. He was so excited, so curious he forgot his scarf and now winter bites his skin.

They pause. Akechi looks at him and shakes his head, rueful and indulgent. Then he wrap Ren up in his own, soft merino wool smelling subtly of bergamot and clove. Ren breathes it in, in a way that’s way less subtle than he thought. Akechi blinks at him, rapid and avian. But when they walk to the train their fingertips graze in faint and reassuring touches.

Ren carries the memory of Akechi’s somehow cozy apartment with him as he goes to class and works at Leblanc and visits his friends. It burns like a coal in his heart, and he banks it up to blazing again and again. After all, what he saw in the apartment - those well-made, permanent things -tells him one thing. Everything in Akechi’s life is built to last. And from the hesitant way Akechi approaches him, he wants to build other things to last.

The visit to Akechi’s apartment unlocks another door. Over the next two weeks Ren learns many things about the Goro Akechi who brought himself back to Ren’s door. He is studying social work, though he’s no idealist. He tells Ren quick and changes the subject immediately after. He still dresses like a professor and acts like he’s ten years older than he is. He likes to bike to Yoyogi park and read books there on the weekends.

He still chases what he wants like a hound catching a scent.

And Ren’s enjoying the chase even as he longs desperately for Akechi in every way. Patience will win in the end.

They’re studying together at the diner in Shibuya near the end of term. It’s a cold Thursday night surrounded by other anxious students. Every few minutes Akechi glances up at him or he watches Akechi for a moment too long before focusing on work. Ren holds his hand across table, breaking to the page of his book or to drink water before. Their pulses races when they touch, with a steady thrum that reminds him they’re both alive.

Akechi’s leg brushes up against his, coy and teasing, and Ren flushes at the vestige of who they both used to be. A wave of want drags him into the undertow. The diner grows silent, the two them in a muffled bubble. His lips part in a smile. And Akechi drops his foot, his eyes darkening. He tilts away from Ren, the air between them growing cold.

Ren turns, stomach dropping at the shift between them. His answer’s walking through the door. Makoto and Haru walk toward them, slightly uncomfortable when Ren catches their eyes.

“Oh, Ren,” Makoto says, approaching the table. “Akechi. We’d heard… welcome back.”

“My thanks.” Akechi’s voice gains a new level of artifice

Of course, the old myriad group chats that he is not a part of must have whispered about Akechi’s return. Futaba knows. She knows everything, living in the wires and the cables, a hydra no one can decapitate.

“We’re studying,” Ren says, glancing up at Makoto, ignoring the concern in his ways. “Want to join? It’ll be like the old days.”

“Oh, that sounds pleasant.” Makoto twists a piece of hair behind her ears, glancing nervous and expectant at Haru.

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen you, Ren-kun,” Haru obfuscates as a way of agreement.

Akechi shifts so he and Ren sit next to each other, close enough that their hips touch. He reaches between them, grabbing Akechi’s hand and squeezing tight. Makoto settles opposite him, so Haru sits across from Ren, a small buffer.

The quiet isn’t so bad. Ren’s a creature of unsaid words, slipping into the space between the notes and finding a kind music in the silences. He rubs Akechi’s shoulder, squeezes his arm, passes him pencils and lets his fingers linger into the touch. They make small talk in between orders, and Ren is audience to the old Akechi resurfacing like a long worn-thin suit.

“How long have the two of you been dating?” Makoto asks, breaking the silence near the end of the night.

“Oh well-”

“A few weeks,” Ren says and Akechi’s lips twitch, imperceptible to a normal person. No one else notices the faint flush on his cheeks. He squeezes Ren’s hand a little tighter and Ren grins at him, lopsided and maybe a little charming.

The diner closes and they part. Ren finds an excuse, so they don’t walk to the train together, leaving him and Akechi alone.

“I can’t lie and say that was pleasant,” he says as they walk through the underground mall toward the Ginza line.

“Everything’s different, you know,” Ren blurts out, squirming under Akechi’s watchful gaze, red into his bones. “We’re all busy.”

“Ah yes, as we leave behind the halcyon days of youth.” Akechi’s voice is curiously anodyne and nonjudgemental.

He walks Ren to the train. And Ren can’t quite find the words to say ‘I need this to be more defined, I need you to fill up the blurred space, I want you, I’m ready’

“I can…” he stutters instead. “I’m here… That’s all”

“Hm.” Akechi kisses him before they part. The press of his lips is different. A promise about to be fulfilled.

As long as you’re happy, Haru texts that night.

I am, he answers, settling the phone beside his bed, falling asleep with Morgana nestled on his chest.

The air changes. Winter arrives, and with it the end of term and the promise of a few gasps of freedom. Akechi waits for Ren in Ueno after his last class. There’s a new look in his eyes, a hunger he’d kept barely sated these last few weeks. Ren shivers. He’s ready to be devoured whole. They take a winding route through the city, hopping of the train closer to Nakameguro. And Akechi fills the space between them with idle chatter, as they stop in the shops in Shimokitazawa, grab pastries and a light dinner, watch the darkness fall and the world light up.

All of the Meguro River is lit up with the holiday illuminations now. They’re pink and purple and blue, twining in the branches of the cherry blossom trees. It bathes the river in an unearthly light, shimmering and rippling with the water’s flow. The later it gets the more powerful the electric hum in the air crackles and sparks. It’s cold, but warmth circulates between them.

“I’m sure you appreciate the body heat,” Ren says, and Akechi laughs, airy and light and an utter lie.

Ren cannot take it anymore. He’s the trickster. He decides his own fate. So, he leans forward and reclaims Akechi’s hands before putting one on his chin and pulling him forward. He kisses Akechi in the open, but he lets his hands wander down Akechi’s hip, pulls him in, breath sharp and surprised against his ear.

They don’t need words right now. Ren takes his glasses off and tells the story of how he wants this night to end in his stare, the tilt of his head. Akechi blinks, weighing and measuring what comes next. And Ren reaches a finger below his glove before kissing that leather wrapped palm. The gesture banks a fire in Akechi’s gaze and Ren’s so ready to be all burned up.

“Do you want to come back with me?” Akechi whispers in his ear, biting the soft shell, his teeth digging into the ridges. Ren shudders. Punch drunk on possibility, maybe, he nods. Ren is caught up in what comes after this moment. All the moments he wants for them. This new era beyond polite jazz dates and long stares. Akechi feels it too.

The cautious dance they’ve done for the past few weeks feeling each other out while Ren wants to be feeling other things, has the tenuous snap of a tether breaking. Akechi’s hands shake as he opens the door. And Ren nuzzles his’s neck, receiving the smallest whimper as reward.

Akechi’s studio, the home he somehow made for himself from the rubble, glows. Ren sits across from him at the sturdy table, unable to ignore the bed tucked into a little alcove, the sheets the thing only thing unmade. Ren wants to be unmade, spread across them with Akechi on top of him, in him, hands tangled in his hair, teeth scraping against neck.

“Do you want tea?” Akechi snaps him out of the fantasy that Ren will make reality.

“You’re a tea person?” Ren magpies away another new thing he’s learned about Akechi. It will not be the last. He’s got hope for all the new secrets Akechi’s going to tell him, that he’s going to tell Akechi.

“I enjoy it later in the day.” He puts the cup on the table, a beautiful black striated with gold. He laughs with irony. “Kintsugi. I thought it was appropriate.”

Ren pretends to look at the cup but it’s another excuse to look at Akechi, who stares at him with a primal hunger, the reticence slipping from his gaze

He takes a few sips. It’s good, grassy and expensive, but Ren’s not thirsty. He places the cup down and takes Akechi’s hands. They’re warm in this little apartment like a furnace.

“I want something else,” Ren says.

“Oh, what’s that?” A familiar sly look rises in Akechi’s eyes.

Ren was never good with words, so he uses actions instead. He surges forward before straddles him, parting his lips. Akechi gives a surprised murr before wrapping his hands around Ren’s waist and pulling him down firmly.

“Yes,” he whispers against Ren’s lips. And the words make him dizzy, all that pent-up desire coursing through his veins. He puts a hand on Akechi’s chin, aware of the hands raking down his back, working under his shirt. Ren bucks against him, arousal making him throb. Akechi parts his lips, probes inside his mouth.

Ren pants as he grinds down, the pleasure almost too intense.

“Stop,” he gasps, and Akechi breaks away. He looks disheveled, hair brushed across his forehead, cheeks flushed.

Ren stands on shaky legs, and Akechi takes his hand and leads them to the bed. They sit on the edge, barely an inch between them. They’re both still mostly clothed, looking at each other. At a loss as to where they go next.

“Have you done this before?” Akechi asks and Ren blinks so fast his eyes water.

“Um… I’ve done some things,” Ren says and there’s a sudden jealous heat focused on him. “You?”

“Well… there was no shortage of… during my celebrity days.” Akechi swallows hard, looking everywhere but him. “This is… a very different thing.”

“I know.” Ren leans in and kisses him slow. Their foreheads press together. And he’s gifted another key to unlock the many mysteries of Goro Akechi. Who laughs, raw and throaty when they break apart. Now that the lacquer has been scuffed from Akechi’s surface, the rough underneath is even more appealing.

“I want you.” Ren takes one of Akechi’s hands and works his fingers between the leather and the flesh. Akechi’s pulse thrums beneath Ren’s slim fingers as he works the gloves off, dropping them one at a time on the floor. Half of his fantasies since they met again have started this way. But most of them aren’t this tentative.

“If we’re about to…” Akechi gestures with his now bare hands in some approximation of what might mean sex. “About to do this, you should use my first name?”

“If you’re sure?” Ren. But even though most of his armor’s been tugged off this is an intimacy he never expected.

“It’s fine.” Akechi…no Goro says with a small sigh.

“No. It’s ok, I like it.” Ren leans over and presses a kiss on his lips. “Goro?”

He’s answered with a waterlogged smile and a death grip around his waist. It’s enough. It’s right. Goro kisses him again, slow and languorous, working his hands under Ren’s shirt. He slips it off, before watching Goro strip his sweater. He’s not wearing a collared shirt beneath. Because he planned this, knew where they’d end up. A thin black t-shirt clings to his upper body, tight in the shoulders and chest. He’s so beautiful, framed by the black shirt and red eyes and flushed skin that Ren sucks in a breath, biting his lower lip. He leans in and runs a hand over Goro’s bare chest, supple and soft.

“What?” Goro looks at him, penetrating and confused.

“You’re really fucking hot?” Ren surges forward, tugging at Goro’s t-shirt, the fabric supple at his touch. He tries to pull it off, kissing Goro’s exposed collarbone, his throat, up to his ear.

Goro’s tongue darts in between Ren’s lips as they press their bodies together. Desire courses through Ren’s veins as Goro reaches down between them and palms Ren’s rapidly hardening dick.

“You like it?” Goro’s voice is thick and hoarse as he shifts. It’s like he’s trying to regain his equilibrium. He rubs Ren’s back before trailing against the waistband of his pants, finally slipping his hand below the fabric. He strokes Ren’s dick, and it feels so good he moans.

Fuck. Ren reaches down, tugging off his pants. Goro’s hair falls into his eyes, wide and wild. He’s in his boxers and that t-shirt but manages to look more vulnerable than Ren who’s almost fully naked.

“Come on.” Ren tilts his head, sitting up on his elbows. Goro closes his eyes, slipping off the shirt. He looks away. There’s a pink scar running from his right shoulder to his chest, gnarled and puckered against the hollow of his shoulder. The mood stutters as he swallows. Ren surges up, unable to stop himself, pressing Goro’s bare skin against his own. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“I know.” Goro says again, voice shakier, before he shakes his head. He blinks, and kisses Ren, before nipping his neck with sharp teeth. The jolt of pain makes Ren toss his head back. Moan.

Ren pulls Goro down on top of him, spreading his legs. Goro works a knee between them, bracing himself as he grinds against Ren’s aching cock. He licks inside Ren’s willing mouth, kissing him with the precision Ren expected. They rut against each other, every thrust making him throb, desperate for Goro inside him. The friction sends more blood rushing through him, making him dizzy, making him want. He wraps a hand around Goro’s dick, slick with precome.

“I need you,” Ren whines, as Goro kisses his ear.

“I... yes..” Goro’s voice is even rougher, and he looks down with hot desperation. He pulls off his underwear before turning to Ren, who arches up and lets Goro tug off his boxers. And that’s it, nothing separating them. Ren knows what Goro’s naked body feels like against his, knows what Goro’s heart feels like beating against his.

He kneels, kissing Goro, pressing his body up against Goro’s, feeling the slick of smooth flesh. His hands trace the thin scar and Goro whimpers. Their hands tangle together, and Ren, unable to control all of the pent-up desire of all these years, licks his palm and reaches between them to stroke Goro’s dick, his dick, taking them both in hand.

Goro moans, lewd and low, canting his hips into Ren’s hand. Ren gasps. Goro wraps his hands around Ren’s waist and pulls them closer, grinding against him again. Sensation shoots through him. Precome beads on his cock. A little more friction and after everything he might come just from this grazing touch. No. He’s waited too long and no matter how much his pulse throbs in his ears, his dick throbs against his stomach, that’s not how this night will end.

“I want you to fuck me,” Ren gasps, pulling away. Goro stutters forward, and Ren eases them both onto the mattress.

“Of course. We can…” Goro swallows, tracing Ren’s shoulder. He rummages through his night table. The movement lets Ren stare at the arc of his back, the curve of his spine, the lean muscles in his shoulders. He has to look away, idly stroking himself, careful not to go too far. Goro fiddles with something, furtive, body shifting. Ren leans up, pressing against Goro’s shoulder. There’s a new bottle of lube on the table. Untouched. Pristine.

“Did you just buy this?” Ren asks, the fiercest affection burning in him, and Goro turns a shade of pink.

“Yes. Shut up.”

Ren reaches up and kisses him, kneeling so he can hold Goro’s face in his hands. Goro’s hands hook around his waist, pulling him closer. Those red eyes soft. Their lips meet, breathing syncing up.

“It’s nice,” Ren says. Goro looks at him so seriously that he can only smile. “That you were thinking of me. Of us.”

“Again, shut up,” Goro presses him back down onto the bed, gaze raking up and down Ren’s body. He shivers as Goro kisses his stomach, his hips, his legs.

Ren doesn’t know what to do with all of Goro Akechi’s single-minded intensity directed at pleasing him. At making him feel good. His devouring gaze, all-consuming, makes Ren sick with want. That red gaze burns through him and Ren’s hips buck up.

“Is this what you want?” Goro whispers, pouring some lube onto his hands, warming it with.

“Yeah. Please” Ren lets the words pouring out of him. “Want you so bad, please.”

Goro’s hands shake as he kisses Ren’s knee, his inner thigh, his hip. It’s reverent, Ren’s body a shrine and Goro his only worshipper. Ren sighs. It’s a soft exhale, breathy with anticipation. Goro’s fingers stroke his entrance, hesitant.

“Do you…Is this?” Goro’s voice catches and he looks so worried, hair in his eyes, one hand stuck in the air near Ren’s stomach, the other gripping his thigh. It trembles against Ren’s skin, suddenly clammy. Ren doesn’t know what to do with a suddenly vulnerable Goro Akechi, looking at him with his eyes wide. His hand is really shaking now, rattling against Ren’s knee. They’re so naked/

Ren’s heart stops and starts at the perceptible fear on Goro’s face.

“Hey. Hey. This is…we’re…this is for both of us,” Ren says, sitting up and capturing Goro’s hands. An old instinct, a way of reading people, flares up in his heart.

Ren’s never been one for talking, letting Goro fill in those gaps as needed, but he feels vulnerable here, they both do. And Goro needs someone to talk him through. They’re a team.

“We’re doing this together.” He kneels, and places Goro’s hands on hips, pressing him down on the mattress.

“What are you doing?” Goro asks, some of the snap back in his voice.

“Helping you relax?” It sounded better in Ren’s head, les stilted and awkward. It’s not going to stop him. He trails down Goro’s body, kissing his chest, working a tongue over one of his nipples before raking his teeth over the flat of his stomach. “You should feel good too.”

“Oh.” Goro tightens, his hand working through Ren’s unruly hair.

It’s so good, the musky scent, the smooth skin. Ren kisses Goro’s jutting hip, his thigh, before leaning over his cock. He licks a stripe up the underside and is rewarded by the hand in his hair easing, before tightening again, more precise this time. Meant to turn Ren on. Goro relaxes under Ren’s touch. His body goes slack as Ren licks the tip of his dick.

Before Ren takes him in his mouth, he allows himself one single breath to glance up. Goro’s beautiful, slowly coming undone. His hair falls over his face, cheeks flushed, lips glistening from where he’s bitten them. He’s hot in an almost offhanded way, otherworldly beautiful and alluring. If he was a siren, in this moment Ren would leap to his death for the chance to hear these soft sighs and murmured yes’s and please’s and don’t stop’s. Arousal goes to his head, dizzy and powerful, as he takes Goro in his mouth, hips bucking against Ren’s head.

“Stop.” Goro rasps. “I don’t want-”

Ren pulls off with a shuddering breath. “Good?”

“You know the answer.” Goro shifts, tilting Ren’s chin upward. His eyes are ravenous, and his skin flushed. He’s absolutely fucking perfect, and Ren needs him. He crawls up Goro’s body, letting his hands roam. Relishes in the smooth skin and corded muscle from all the climbing and the biking. Every touch threatens to drive him further over the edge. When they kiss their noses bump together and Ren laughs, before Goro pries open his lips and licks inside his mouth. Ren laughs again, suddenly so bright and turned on, the entire world feels like it’s made of light.

Ren wraps his arms around Goro’s neck and straddles him again. The friction as he grinds down, pressing their cocks together, makes him whimper as Goro groans into his kiss.

“You want me to fuck you?” Goro whispers, biting his ear, his voice a mix of desperation and need. “Is that what you want?”

“Please,” Ren answers, taking them both in his hand.

“How?” Goro’s voice has an edge to it. The vulnerability he felt before rises in echoes, before fading again. “How do you want me?”

“Here, let me show you.” Ren sits with his back to Goro’s chest, wrapping their hands together. His heart hammers in his chest, so ready for this. “This is what I like.”

He spreads his legs and leads Goro’s lube-slick hands between them. Goro breathes hard in his ear, panting, his heart beating against Ren’s back. He arches back, steadied and open.

“Here,” he murmurs again and Goro groans against him. His fingers trace Ren’s entrance, wet with lube, before pushing one finger inside. He thrusts, hesitant at first before Ren pushes back against his fingers. It’s not enough. It might never be enough.

“Yeah, Goro, like that, more.” Ren grabs Goro’s hand, dragging his fingers against him.” You can’t hurt me, I want this.”

“Mmm,” Goro groans before thrusting inside him again, two fingers. Ren’s so hot, so wet, so ready. His fingers graze Ren’s prostate and he bucks up into it, weak and lightheaded as Goro scissors him open. It’s so good. His head tilts back, a string of unintelligible words falling from his lips.

He presses a kiss into Ren’s neck as they rut against each other. Ren presses down, desperate for more friction, needing to feel fuller. He’d done this by himself so many nights, but it’s nothing compared to Goro’s fingers inside him. Opening him up, making him ready. Ren leans against Goro’s chest, before taking his other hand and sucking on his fingers.

“Fuck.” Goro stutters as Ren sucks long and hard. “Fuck.”

“You want me?” Ren laughs as Goro pulls his fingers out before kissing his neck. He’s ready, whimpering and needy.

“Patience.” Goro flips them so he’s on top of Ren. He traces a line from Ren’s cheek to his chest, fingers ghostly enough that he shivers. His hands trace Ren’s temples, before resting for a moment too long on the middle of his forehead. “I want to look at you.”

“I’m here.”

“I know.”

“Ah.” Ren exhales, loose and wet, that long held breath finally releasing. Goro lines himself up with Ren’s entrance and pushes inside.

It’s too much all at once and Ren arches back. The sting of Goro’s length is nothing compared to the intense pleasure coursing through his veins. His legs shake and he splays a hand over his eyes, desperate.

“Good?” Goro’s voice hitches and Ren moves his hands, licking his lips and smiling.

“Yes. So good, you’re so fucking good. Please.” He arches up, grabbing Goro by the hips and drawing him further inside. He’s so needy, so desperate. Ren’s waited longer than the past few weeks for this, all those nights getting off at the thought of Goro Akechi inside of him, Goro Akechi lording over him, taunting him and fucking him. It’s been years and years of this endless, waiting, desire. This is better, hotter, so fucking good. He’s sick with pleasure. “I can take it.”

“Mmmm.” Goro thrusts inside him, lube-slick and so fucking strong. It rattles Ren against the headboard, hard and sure.

It’s all his fantasies come true. Ren’s hands finally twist in the sheets, he finally arches back to let Goro kiss his neck. They move together, Ren snapping up his hips, rutting his dick desperately against Goro’s stomach. He aches with how good it feels.

And now that he’s back in control, Goro returns to that single minded focus on driving Ren wild, overloading his sense, taking his time. He locks his gaze onto Ren’s, intense as he thrusts slow and hard.

“You like this, you like this, don’t you?” Goro murmurs, increasing his pace. He hits Ren’s spot again and again and again. It’s too much. Then Goro leans over and bites his neck, working his teeth into it. It’s going to bruise. Leave a mark, indelible on Ren’s skin. It sends a rush through his veins, pressure building and building. He reaches for his dick, but Goro swats it away, taking Ren in his hand and stroking fast and hard.

Ren arches into it pleasure taking him in waves. Goro looks down at him and Ren tilts his head and laughs, light and airy. Somehow, he knows the next line.

“You make me feel so good.” Ren exhales. “You’re the only one.”

“Oh.” Goro sucks in a breath, and his pace stutters. He gasps, speeding up, erratic and unmoored. Ren watches his release, the tension gone from his face as he gives into it.

Warmth spatters inside Ren, and he watches Goro’s release, the tension sapping from his face as he gives into pleasure. Everything’s soft. Hazy. Their lips meet again,

“Good?” Goro lays on his side and runs a gentle hand through Ren’s hair. He blinks, slow and lazy, the tension bled out of him.

“You were perfect.”

“Ah.” Goro leans against him. Their breathing syncs up. It’s a moment that feels so delicate but built on such a steady foundation that it will hold forever. Goro’s hand traces his shoulder, working across his rib cage, resting on the middle of Ren’s chest, heart beating slow and lazy. Then, he breaks the moment to grab a handful of tissues from his night table, cleaning them both off.

After they’re clean Goro settles back onto the mattress. Hair disheveled, skin flush, tired and sated and calm. Beyond beautiful. Ren gets to see him here, in this way forever. Only him. This Goro Akechi is for him and him alone. He’s going to take advantage of this moment, and all the moments like this for the rest of forever. Goro’s walls are down, and he has the last echoes of vulnerability in his face. Ren holds him, Goro’s head resting on his chest. He strokes his silky hair. Runs a finger down his arm before tracing a circle on his back. Goro relaxes, visibly relaxes into Ren’s touch. And they lay there, together, the night passing and the new day about to dawn.