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It started out innocently enough.
Mariko Hyodo's Jail had been bitingly cold, a stark contrast to the beating heat of summer even in somewhere more temperate like Sapporo. Which, yeah, fair enough- it was a kingdom blanketed entirely in snow and carved ice. But still. Even standing by the giant thankfully toasty heaters, it was hard to ignore the chill that seemed hellbent on burrowing beneath the Thieves' skins.
Akira could still tell, even though he was definitely the luckier of the bunch. He was fully covered and while his tailcoat definitely didn't keep him from feeling the cold at all… It protected him from the worst of it.
Akechi, at the time, hadn't been so lucky. He didn't have fire magic to stave off the bitter chill, like Ann. Or innate cold resistance like Yusuke. Or a coat to curl around himself like Sumire did. Just a skin-tight jumpsuit that did very little to hide that he was shivering about as much as an extremely anxious chihuahua. If not more.
It was hampering both his reaction time during fights and his mood as a result. Which wasn't helping the Phantom Thieves' morale any. So it'd only be responsible of Akira, as the leader of the group, to try and fix that problem. To help his teammate however he can.
Sumire's example gave him an idea that took root and soon budded into a little plan. One he put into action during their next bout of downtime- recuperating and figuratively licking their wounds from the last couple scraps with Shadows huddled around a heater.
Akechi was faring especially bad, scowling up a storm almost as bad as the blizzard earlier. For once, though, he literally couldn't edgily keep his distance from the group. Not without becoming- as Futaba warned earlier- a Goro-sicle. Something he took to heart. Reluctantly, but still- baby steps.
A couple eyebrows noticeably raised or furrowed when Akira moved to take off his coat. The heater protected his newly-bared arms from the worst of the sharp winds. Enough to bear for as long as he'd need to, at least. Those astonished, or at least questioning, looks didn't ease up when he walked over to Akechi holding out his coat.
Akechi had stared at it for a moment. Head tilted down, so his bulky-ass mask covered most of his face. Hiding his features from view… save for his eyes. Even behind the bright-red visors, it still showed enough for Akira. The slight squint, the barely-visible deepening furrow of his brow, one side subtly slanted a bit more than the other telling at his observational sneer. Could practically see the equations dancing before his eyes, the conclusions he was coming to.
"You are aware stripping is one of the first symptoms of fatal hypothermia, right?" He asked, sounding way too calm about that fact. Coolly, he might even say.
But instead Akira shrugged and said- "Yeah, but I'm feeling fine. Just thought you might need a hand."
Probably not the best way to put it, from how Akechi bristled at that. "I don't need your pity, Joker." Sounding as sharp and cold as some of the nearby icicles.
Akira suppressed the urge to sigh. Better to keep calm, to not let his attempts at digging get to him. "Not pity," he corrected. "Practicality. This'll help you stay warm." 'And fight better' went unsaid… but knowing Akechi, probably not unheard.
"At your expense." Was the quick fire-back. "It'd do you well not to throw yourself into the fire just for a chance to keep others warm, you know."
"Aww, Crow," he simpered, batting his lashes for effect. Mainly to make Akechi scoff softly and roll his eyes. "You worried about me?" There was some soft snickering and mutters from the Phantom Thieves, but no one seemed willing to stop this newest round of their back-and-forth.
For now, at least. They would- and have- if it went on for too annoyingly long.
"Just trying to look out for my valiant Leader." His tone was flat, obviously sarcastic. Like he didn't ask to join when the Metaverse showed signs of rearing its head again. "Nothing more, nothing less."
"Thanks," the grin was also a bit sarcastic. "But seriously, no need to worry. I can just make another one."
"That's not how it works."
"Maybe… maybe not." Akira held out the coat a bit more. "Only one way to find out for sure, though."
The two stared at each other in relative silence for a couple seconds that seemed to stretch unto eternity. Distantly, Akira still heard the droning of the heater, the whipping of the wind, Makoto hushedly answering one of Sophia's questions… But he'd been far more focused on the wheels obviously turning in Akechi's head. Weighing his options, if relenting now would seem like defeat if there was a chance to prove his superior knowledge of Metaverse logic, and all that jazz.
Plus, in the privacy of his own head… It was just nice to look at Akechi. Hadn't quite gotten over the novelty of being able to see him in an imperfect reality once again. He liked it no matter the occasion, so this was a pretty convenient excuse to do it openly without being teased.
Eventually though, the spell shattered with a sigh. With a muttered, "Fine." as steely claws snatched the coat from his hands. Finally taking what was openly and readily offered to him. Quickly shuffling to put it on and get this affair over with.
It was a bit awkward, what with the bulky neckpiece and aforementioned claws, but the tailcoat was open enough to make it work pretty well. Fitting fairly snug around his frame.
Akira hadn't been prepared for how his heart skipped like a smooth stone at the sight. It… looked pretty good on Akechi. Fit in well with the rest of his outfit- the edges torn into the sleeves as he pulled his gauntlets through only adding to the effect all the more. Shrouding him in a layer of smooth shadow. Making Joker's iconic coat his own, in a way, while still wearing something that was undeniably Akira's.
For a moment, he'd felt warm enough to forget all about the cold. Just a moment.
That moment ended as Akechi looked at him expectantly. "Well?"
Oh. Yeah, right, he had a point to prove. Probably part of why he even agreed to something like this in the first place.
So instead of trying to stammer out an excuse, Akira just… gets to it. Concentrates like he has to in order to fix a tear torn in his Metaverse outfit. A little mental energy to repair his Will of Rebellion 'n keep it good as new.
Though this time the task's a little trickier, so it takes a bit more time. A bit more energy. Trying to focus on his desire to bring a coat back around him without dissipating the one around Akechi. Which is a headache and a half comparatively, but soon enough, he feels familiar blue flame lick over him. Fabric comfortably wrapped around him like a security blanket.
Even better, when he opened his eyes, the former coat was still the same as it was. Still shielding Akechi from the cold.
Akira didn't brag about it, though he couldn't help but smile at Futaba's astonishment about 'pulling off an IRL dupe glitch'. They continued the mission, Akechi's movements smoother with the extra layer of protection, and that really should have been that. Just helping a teammate out. Nothing more, nothing less.
But it wasn't.
Even in the midst of the chaos and relative carnage of battling Shadows, or just traversing the glacial grounds of the Jail, Akira could've sworn he'd catch the occasional glimpse of Akechi burrowing into his coat. Shifting the neckpiece out of the way to better lean his face into the collar. So subtle he could have sworn he'd been imagining it.
Or, at least… Hoping for it.
He didn't mention it for a while.
Not until it continued. Over the passing months, Akira would sometimes 'let' Akechi borrow clothes for some reason or another. They were still pretty similar in size, after all. Little harm in taking advantage of that fun fact.
There'd usually be a back-and-forth, a push and pull that was part of this newest strange little dance between them, but in the end… the offer would be oh-so-reluctantly accepted. Eventually, the clothes would be returned, clean and neatly folded. Perfect.
But until then… Akira couldn't help but privately wonder why he'd have them for so long. Though he never asked.
It became normal. Casual, even. Or as 'casual' as the two of them could really manage to be.
Until it came to a head, one night in their shared college dorm, when Akira opened the door to Akechi's room to ask him something. Only to catch him in a very compromising position.
Which, yeah fair enough, he should've knocked first. Akechi got on his case about it all the time, but it was fun to piss him off sometimes, so he'd occasionally skip that rule. Pretty fuckin' poor timing on his part. Especially since their dorm rooms skimped out hard on locks, so it was better not to bother with them.
With anyone else he would've quickly averted his eyes, given a quick apology, and closed the door to let them do their business in peace. The proper thing to do. The right thing to do.
But he still would've had that first quick glimpse, that momentary glance before realization and reasoning kicked in. And the one he got was enough to shock him still.
With one hand, Akechi had been furiously working himself, still easy enough to see with the dim light from his lamp. And with the other… He held a shirt up to his face. A very familiar shirt that had masked the lower half of it.
Akira's shirt. The very same one he'd let Akechi borrow only a couple hours earlier.
It'd been quite a scene. Especially when those rich scarlet eyes hazy with pleasure quickly sharpened, his face quickly turning a far more vivid shade of red.
Akechi had screamed at him to get out. Even threw a pillow at him and everything. So Akira did.
But he didn't forget. He couldn't forget. It haunted the edges of his waking hours and took the starring role of his dreams. How could it not, when his head swam with questions and desires hand-in-hand?
All that time… Did he always-? Was that the real reason behind it? Were the other convenient 'reasons' just thinly-veiled excuses? Why? Should he have said something more, done something more?
The last one was easy enough- he probably should, and eventually, he did.
That, alongside time, brought answers… And so much more.
"Nnh, fuck—" Goro's claws scramble for purchase. Not hard enough to tear too deep into Akira's vest… Yet. They'd get there soon enough.
They couldn't always fuck in the Metaverse, of course, but there were some nights the couple would slip off to the other world to have some… well, otherworldly fun. This one was comparatively vanilla, honestly, but hey- not like he'd complain about getting to fuck Goro.
"Yeah, honey?" Akira croons, concentrating mostly on his work, but still shooting him a grin. "Sounds like you're having plenty of fun already. Y'sure you want my cock?" Punctuating the question with scissoring his lubed-up fingers inside Goro, pumping them back in right down to the knuckle to make him let out a delicious little choked-out noise.
From the glare, Goro absolutely would've kicked him if his legs weren't hooked up to allow Akira access in the first place. One by Goro himself, the other by Akira's free arm. The wall worked wonders to hold him up the rest of the way.
"Cut the b-bullshit, Kurusu," he snaps, and oooh, he's pulling out the last name- he means business. "You've already mmade me wait long enough. I'm not made out of goddamn porcelain, so quit teasing. Just hurry up and fuck me already before I- ngh- do it myself!" Wouldn't that be a sight. Even with his plenty-sharp tone, though, it's a liiiittle hard to be intimidated by him right now.
His chest heaves with every breath, flushed and bare, dusty brown nipples still pert from when Akira had teased them after tearing his jumpsuit open. It still hangs off of him in shreds, incomplete tatters. His mask and neckpiece are absent, his throat holding a scattered litany of beautifully-blooming hickeys like a violently-broken pearl necklace. His back is kept nice and safe from the harsh concrete wall, though.
Akira's tailcoat makes sure of that. It still frames and envelops him perfectly. The high collar is a little creased on the left side from when he'd lean his face against it. Even with the smell of sex and sweat intermingling as much as the two, he likes getting a more concentrated huff of Akira's scent. Plus he just… likes wearing it on occasion. Not that Akira ever minds.
The sight's enough to give him a shudder, a white-hot bolt of possessiveness shooting clean through. Making him grip onto Goro's perfect pillowy thighs a little tighter.
So Akira chuckles breathlessly. "Pushy, pushy." He likes it. Still he shakes his head, curls tickling his face, acting for another split second like he doesn't. Like he's not absolutely aching to stuff his cock into Goro right this fuckin' second. "Don't threaten me with a good time."
He almost feels bad for causing the choked-off whine Goro lets out as the fingers slip out of him. His pretty pink hole pulses, silently trying to entice him back in like a siren on the rocks.
And Akira will get to swimming in those waters happily in just a sec. He has to quickly lube up his dick first, trying to be quick so he doesn't get even more excited. After lining it up the tip of his head with Goro's hole, though… He doesn't delay. Doesn't tease. Just sinks inside.
As always, it's bliss. Feeling the warm wet heat of Goro's inner walls clenching around him would already be enough to make his head swim, but the sound and feeling of those shaky breaths so close as he sinks in adds plenty of fuel to the roaring fire. Fanning out over Akira's exposed skin.
Only made all the better once he bottoms out, flush against Goro. As connected as the two can be. When Akira looks up at him to silently gauge, Goro knows what it means and nods fervently. He's good, he's so good, all that'd make it better is more. So, after leaning in for a quick kiss, that's exactly what he gives.
From there, it's off to the races. A rush of heat and motion. Slapping skin and staccato sounds. Warm, real, and wonderfully alive.
Akira savors every moment- from the pleasure-pain of those claws sinking in deeper, raking down his back like they're holding on for dear fucking life, to every shared breath in the scant space between them. Or the vibration of Goro's moans when he buries his face in Akira's shoulder. Getting close to his comforting smell once again.
One good thing about fucking in the Metaverse… With a couple stamina snacks, they can go a couple more rounds than normal. They move about, clothes getting more and more shredded and/or scattered about as time goes on. That can easily be fixed later, so it's fine.
Throughout it all, though, Goro keeps the tailcoat on.
Akira's more than glad he let him borrow it back then.
Lady_Leaf8 Mon 08 Dec 2025 01:41AM UTC
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