Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11199333.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Persona_5
  Relationship:
      Akechi_Goro/Kurusu_Akira, Akechi_Goro/Persona_5_Protagonist
  Character:
      Akechi_Goro, Kurusu_Akira, Persona_5_Protagonist, Morgana_(Persona_5)
  Additional Tags:
      Hurt/Comfort, Mutual_Masturbation, Angst_with_a_Happy_Ending, Crying,
      Hair-pulling, Praise_Kink, Begging, Hand_Jobs, im_ashamed, this_was
      supposed_to_be_less_wordy_but_things_happen, i_probably_projected_a_bit
      too_much_onto_goro_fdkfnsnfkf, honestly_lost_count_of_how_many_times_they
      said_each_other's_names, morgana_is_there_for_like_one_second
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-14 Words: 3199
****** dark paradise ******
by nafnaf
Summary
     He dreams that Goro is there, with him.
Notes
     this is my first fanfiction/smut fic so you understand that the
     stakes are high right
     the title is based on a lana del rey song which is.... related to
     this fic unsurprisingly....
     comments and kudos are appreciated!! <3
See the end of the work for more notes
He dreams that Goro is there, with him.
But it’s not the Goro that plagues his nightmares, the wicked smile and empty
eyes that fill Akira’s vision just before his own blood does. It’s the Goro of
his memories—the trueone, the detective that was not just a murderer, not just
a madman—with life behind his eyelids and vulnerability in his shoulders. And
he looks so earnest, so solemn.
It feels just like a Velvet Room dream. One foot in reality, the other in a
dreamworld.  
Goro stands at the entrance to his room, pensive. He’s frighteningly real, a
step away from the ghosts that haunt Akira at night. Shifting a little, Akira
sits up and regards the dream Goro, searching for any sign that he might
disappear like he always does.
But there’s none.
“Akira,” says Goro, at last. His voice is loud in the quiet of the attic, an
alarm that sends shivers down Akira’s spine. “I’m… sorry to intrude.”   
“No,” Akira interrupts, “don’t be.” He realizes for a split-second that he’s
talking to nothingness, but it feels too right to be wrong, his conscience
clear despite the haziness that frays his vision. With a pang, the revelation
comes; he wantsto talk to this dream Goro, to spill out all of his emotions
even if it means nothing in the end.
“… I miss you,” Akira whispers softly. Goro steps closer. “Everyday, I think
about what might have happened if you hadn’t sacrificed yourself…”
“I know.” Goro is by his bed, now, hands clenched at his sides. “I know, Akira,
I know.”
“Why are you here?”  Akira looks up at him, finds Goro staring back with
shocking clarity. It almost hurts his eyes.
Lifting a hand, Goro places it on Akira’s bed, just beside his left hip. “I
have a score to settle.”
He kisses Akira without waiting. The touch sears him, shatters his heart into
pieces, but he can’t escape Goro’s warmth and leans selfishly into it. He
wonders at the back of his mind if this will communicate his feelings to the
real Goro—the one surely to be on the other side of life by now. But as guilty
and uncertain as Akira is, this may be his only chance to tell Goro how he
really feels, even if only in a dream.
“… Goro…” Akira cups his face, pulls him closer. Surrenders. “Goro.”
Goro complies, settling his knee on the bed and rumpling the sheets. Akira
remembers, distantly, that Morgana is sleeping not too far away—dreamMorgana,
if any of this is as he thinks it is—and pulls away from the kiss, pausing a
moment to retrieve the sleeping Morgana and deposit him on the floor (something
he barely has time to regret).
“Best to keep quiet, huh?” Goro laughs feebly at this. Akira misses that laugh.
“Come here,” he says, and opens his arms in invitation. Goro gravitates towards
him, kicking off his shoes as he does so.
Their next kiss is harder, messier, tinged with a desperation inexplicable by
words. Akira feels himself slipping in, further into this dreamworld, greed and
neediness ruling over logic—a sickening feeling that buries its knife deeper
into his chest. But the pleasure is too good and whites out the shame by a
large margin, along with the doubt that slowly ebbs away at him.
He fights this feeling by biting into Goro’s lip. Goro grunts, bites back
harder, elicits pain that awakens Akira on a whole other level. With a huff,
Goro pulls away and fits himself fully between Akira’s legs, prompting Akira
onto his back.
“Akira…” Goro kisses him once more on the lips. It’s gentle, making Akira
shiver fully. “I can’t help but wanting to be a little selfish.”
“Do it,” Akira says. “Be selfish. I want you, Goro, more than anything.”
“More than anything, huh.” Goro shakes his head, a breathy little laugh
escaping him. “How can you want someone like me? I’m not anything that you
might’ve thought I was, Akira. I tried to kill you so many times.”
The confession makes Akira freeze. Too real, he thinks. Too much like the real
Goro.In all honesty, it’s a little unnerving—something this truthful shouldn’t
be possible for a dreamscape summoned by nothing but desire. Yet Akira can’t
feel as upset as he wants to be.
He runs his hands up Goro’s chest, stopping just where his heart beats out of
control. “I don’t pretend you’re something you’re not,” Akira admits. “I will
always like you no matter who you are, or what you think you are. I’ve seen all
sides of you—”
“—They’re not very pretty—”
“—And Loki was just one facet of your personality. He wasn’t all of you, Goro.
Robin Hood was the you that you pushed away.”
He says this thinking of nothing but Goro’s smile; a bit of a bias influences
his words. But they have the desired effect, causing Goro to blush and cast his
gaze away. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t deserve you, Akira,” he murmurs,
unconvinced. Akira trails his hands up to his cheek.
“I beg to differ.” He leans up, presses a kiss to his nose. “You could have all
of me, and I wouldn’t say a word. So please, do what you want with me, Goro.”
“What I want… ?” Goro dips his head down in contemplation. “… What if I want to
kill you?”
Akira feels his heart stop for a moment. Wonders, Is this a nightmare after
all?
But the shot doesn’t come, and Goro isn’t moving, so Akira sighs through his
nose and cards his hand through Goro’s hair. “If you wanted to kill me, you’d
have done it already. To catch me off-guard.” Adoringly, he brushes Goro’s
bangs out of his eyes. “But you don’t want to kill me, so can we just get this
over with?”
The light returns to Goro’s eyes, and he laughs, unabashedly. “Always the same
Joker.”
Akira smiles. “And always the same Crow.”
He kisses Goro before he can say anything, pressing their bodies flush
together—no distance, no secrets. He feels hotter than ever, Goro’s hands
caressing his back and guiding him downward, so much so that his thoughts
become jumbled in his head. Akira tightens his grip on Goro’s hair and gasps
when he feels Goro’s lips latching onto his neck.
“Goro—ah…” He tilts his head back, shutting his eyes tight. All he can feel is
Goro, Goro enveloping him like a tidal wave, leaving him in danger of drowning.
And he does feel like he’s drowning; it’s hard not to when he’s robbed of
breath like this, when Goro leans up and kisses him so deeply and hungrily.
Akira opens his mouth; Goro’s tongue slides in with ease, running over Akira’s
own and licking feverishly into his mouth. He can’t breathe, almost doesn’t
wantto breathe because he feels so good, heat pooling into his gut like slow-
drizzling honey.
A hand sneaks under his shirt. Rides it up his chest. Akira’s breath hitches,
and he breaks away from Goro to lift it over his head. Revealing himself like
this, he feels himself run hot with desire, contrasting the cold of the attic
room.
Goro turns his attention to the newly-bared skin, kissing everywhere he can
reach. Akira gathers Goro’s hair into his head and curls his fingers there,
gasping, whispering Goro’s name. “I miss you…” He lets it slip; he means every
single word, wants it to be known. “I miss you so much, Goro, I miss talking to
you…”
“Akira…”
“I miss seeing you at the train station, at Leblanc, at the hideout where we
would gather before missions… I miss all of it, and I always see you there when
you’re not, looking at me, smiling at me like you always would… I miss it, miss
you—”
“Akira.” A thumb strokes his cheek, silencing him. “I’m here. I’m with you.”
If only that were true.Akira shakes his head and laughs silently. He pulls Goro
into one last kiss before pushing forward, bringing himself level with his
face. Hands slide over skin, Akira’s lips nipping at Goro’s collarbone. Before
he knows it, Goro’s shirt is off, and the scars of before are ever present.
Slowly, reverently, he drags his palms over them.
“This is…” The words catch in his throat. They feel thick at the tip of his
tongue.
Goro places a hand over Akira’s, directing it back to his beating heart. “From
Shido’s Palace.”
Akira stiffens, but then swallows his uncertainty. This dream is so damn cruel.
Without speaking, Akira catches Goro’s hand, brings it to his lips. “I wish I
could’ve healed you,” he says, tenderly honest. “I wish you’d have just
accepted our help. I wanted to free you, Goro. I wanted that, most of all.”
“Why?” Goro asks, as Akira leans forward and kisses his jaw.
“It’s always ‘why’ with you.” Akira draws back, only to tangle his fingers in
Goro’s hair. He tugs: “Can’t you just say ‘okay’ and leave it at that? Not
everything can be explained, Goro, and sometimes we just need to learn to deal
with it.”
It’s clear that Goro wants to protest further, but Akira yanks him forward, the
former tumbling into Akira’s chest. Goro squawks—cute,Akira thinks hazily, as
Goro opens his mouth to argue with him. Akira shushes him. “You’re awfully
talkative for a dream Goro,” he mutters under his breath, and Goro tilts his
head in confusion.
“What’s that?”
Akira bites back a smile. “Nothing. Just that you haunt me of your own accord
and you’re already questioning yourself.”
“Ha…” Goro pushes himself off of Akira’s chest, landing a kiss on his forehead.
“Confident, aren’t you. All right then. If you’re so sure, why don’t we discard
the questions for now?”
“Then wh—” The inquiry is smothered by a moan, drawn out further by the sudden
pressure on his groin. He looks up, eyes wild and disoriented, at the
mischievous Goro’s smirk—he seems different now, not the broken, scrupulous
mess he’d revealed to Akira earlier.
There’s something challenging posed in those bright red eyes. A challenge Akira
that is willing to take on. With newfound energy, he smiles back at Goro,
reaching for the boy’s belt and unbuckling it eagerly. Goro doesn’t protest; he
watches part-fascinated, part-curious, lips parted in heady excitement. The
belt is off within seconds; Akira licks his lips, pulling down the hem of
Goro’s pants roughly.
“Akira—aah…” Goro tilts his chin up and groans at the first hint of contact.
“P-Please—”
There’s no delay. Akira rubs him through his briefs, desire pulling him closer,
almost tugging Goro onto his lap. Goro stifles a moan, his fingers flying
immediately to his mouth. Understandable, with dream Morgana only a mere few
feet away. Steeling himself, Akira proceeds further, slipping his hand
underneath the waistband of Goro’s briefs and digging his palm there.
“Mmf—!” Goro arches his back, trembles with pleasure. Akira feels himself
harden at the sight, and he wraps his fingers around Goro, pulling his cock out
completely.
“Akira,” Goro says, mindlessly. The name leaves his lips, so easy and natural
that it hurts to hear it. Akira ignores this and strokes him, achingly slow—his
tip already glistens wet with precome. To think that hegets to see Goro like
this. That he’s been blessed with the chance, however illusory, to witness Goro
bare himself to him. Akira chews his lip and feels his own briefs grow
embarrassingly damp at the thought.
“God…” It comes out in a murmur, voice trembling. “You look so beautiful right
now, Goro.”
And it’s true; Goro is flushed all over, the red adding to his flawless
complexion, strands of his hair sticking to and away from his face. It’s
disheveled and unseemly for a detective, but it makes it all the more realto
Akira, makes him feel less ashamed for indulging in a petty dream.
Goro blushes. He rocks into Akira’s hand ever-so-slightly, mumbling, “Y-You’re
lying…”
“I’m not.” Akira twists Goro’s cock in his grip, and Goro gasps sharply.
“You’re perfect, Goro. So, so perfect.”
“Akira—mnn!” His hands flutter to Akira’s hair, pulling.Akira’s breath is cut
short, and he blanks out, experiencing nothing but the feel of Goro’s fingers
clinging onto his hair.
Akira barely contains the whimper that dances on his lips. “Do that again,” he
pleads, and Goro yanks him up, trapping him into a wet kiss. There’s no finesse
to it; Akira’s hand falters on Goro’s dick, blissed-out by the sparks of pain
in his scalp and the tongue in his mouth. Before he knows it, Goro has reached
into his pants and palms at his erection.
“Aah—” He purses his lips. Shit, that was so loud. Did I wake Morgana? But no
reaction follows, and Goro’s hand continues its task unfazed.
Embarrassed, Akira covers his mouth with his palm, trying not to look when Goro
pulls him out and pumps his cock. The flame of desire is rekindled—in his head
and under his belly—and he bucks his hips frantically, groaning beneath his
hand. Goro draws it away, grins like a scheming animal, and shoves two digits
into Akira’s mouth. Akira whines around his fingers.
“Don’t stop now,” Goro murmurs, and Akira refastens his hold on him. Steadily,
in time with Goro, he strokes his cock, the sound wet and arousing in the
deadly quiet of the attic. It feels forbidden, somehow, touching Goro like
this—no shame, no second-guessing. It’s a lot more than he can handle, but he’s
content this way. Riding out his pleasure beneath Goro’s hand. Gasping his
name, feeling the warmth gather in his stomach.
It gives him something new, something he could never have.
The next moment Goro releases his length, eliciting a whimper from Akira’s
lips. “You’re so good,” Goro whispers, pushing him down. Akira’s heart jumps at
the statement. “So good, Akira, too good for me.” He kisses him, intense and
open-mouthed, his moans nothing less than filthy as Akira regains the
conscience enough to continue stroking Goro.
All of a sudden, Goro chokes out something—”Akira, enough”—and snatches his
wrist, effectively stopping him. He pins it over Akira’s head.
“Goro…” Akira swallows, his voice strangely hoarse. “I… I…”
“Don’t speak,” Goro says. He’s panting heavily, breath hot as it fans over
Akira’s cheek. “I want to savor this moment. You do, too, don’t you?”
“I—yes,” Akira sputters, still dazed. Goro smiles.
“Then no more discussion.” He lowers his head, catches Akira’s mouth in a sweet
kiss. Just as Goro wills it, Akira doesn’t say a word, doesn’t spill what he’s
been dying to get off his chest and leans into the kiss. He feels tight all
over. He wonders why.
Wordlessly, Goro breaks away. He lifts his hand between them and drags his
tongue up his palm, up his fingers. Akira watches him, mesmerized, slack-jawed
and almost painfully turned-on. Goro pulls away from his hand; without waiting,
he shoves his fingers back into Akira’s mouth.
Startled into compliance, Akira moans, sucking diligently. He can’t quite make
out Goro’s expression from above him, but he can see the wantin his eyes, clear
as day. So much clearer than the Goro of his nightmares—those clouded eyes, the
barely-suppressed rage in his thinned lips. Akira shivers, remembering the
feeling.
He doesn’t have time to parse it, however, as Goro moves his hand away and
trails it lower.
“Akira,” Goro husks, and grabs both of their erections. Akira’s eyes snap open.
“I wish things could have been different.”
“You said no more discussion—” Akira is cut off by his own moan, high and
wanton, when Goro drags his wet fingers up and down their cocks.
He feels Goro squeeze his shaft, and then say, “I meant you, not me.”
“N-Not fair—hahh—!”Abruptly, he jerks his hips upward, craving the feel of
Goro’s cock rubbing against his. “Goro, Goro—”
“Shh.” Goro covers his mouth with his, muffling the words. He threads sentences
against Akira’s lips: “You were always so bright, so beautiful… I was jealous
of you, Akira. Unfortunately, I didn’t know what I wanted back then, and I was
a fool—a-ah—” Suddenly, the pace of his hand quickens, and he grinds down on
Akira’s cock, hard. “Nngh… ! Y-You make me want to become a better person,
Akira…”
“G-Goro…” Akira’s pitch turns shamefully high; he’s almost mewling, and he
can’t quite think when his body has melted completely underneath Goro’s hand,
brain included. He chases that pleasure, lifting his hips, rubbing their dicks
together. Goro’s hand stutters.
“Goro,” Akira breathes, sobs. It's too much, too much— “Goro, I love you. You
can still change. Y-You can—”
“Akira…” Instead of responding, Goro pumps them harder, and Akira cries out.
“Aah—!” The world blurs, his face hot and tongue heavy in his mouth. Goro
traces his jaw, finds his way back to Akira’s hair. “Goro, please… don’t leave…
please don’t leave me…”
“I won’t.” Goro holds him tightly. “I won’t, so just finish for me, Akira,
please.”
You will leave though, Akira thinks, through his pleasure-addled daze. The
dream will end and you will disappear before it does. It's not fair, it’s not
fair, it’s not—
“Fuck,” Goro huffs suddenly, tearing Akira away from his thoughts. “I—I’m
close.”
Akira moans. Overheated, he buries his face into Goro’s neck, indulging in his
scent. He smells like the rain, mixed with sweat and musk. It’s so familiar, so
nice. Akira’s eyes gather with tears.
Drawing his head away slightly, Goro leans down and smashes their lips
together. His strokes are jerkier, now, less controlled, and Goro is rubbing
patterns into Akira’s scalp, whispering his name into his mouth like a mantra.
The pressure builds up—Akira whimpers quietly, tears at the corner of his eyes
as whatever vestiges of control snap within him—and he finishes into Goro’s
hand with an inaudible moan, rocking into it slowly, desperately.
“Ah… Hahh…”  Akira catches his breath, Goro’s continuous strokes doing little
to soothe his overstimulated nerves. Black consumes his vision, and then white.
The world grows fuzzy, then—he feels his senses return to him, the frozen air
and warm skin and sweat. He says Goro's name; Goro comes shortly after, gasping
quietly into the dark.
Eventually, after a momentary pause, Goro collapses against Akira. He holds him
close, chest heaving with the effort.
“… Don’t… go,” Akira repeats, groggy, but Goro says nothing.
And then, “Do you really think I’m that valuable?” The words are accompanied by
a bitterness that translates into dejection, into denial. Akira shifts, shoving
his nose into Goro’s hair.
“I believe in second chances.” Affectionately, he nuzzles Goro’s scalp, still
gleaming with sweat. “I just wish… that God gave you one.”  
He doesn’t hear what Goro says next. Because next he’s drifting, drifting into
a restless slumber, the last thing he feels being Goro's lips against his
temple…
…
And the morning comes.
Light shines through the windows. Akira wakes up, a body besides his and sandy
locks spread across his pillow. Akira smiles. Looks like he never actually left
this time.
End Notes
     and it was REAL THIS WHOLE TIME!!! DUN DUN DUN!!!!!!
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