Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12919452.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Persona_5
  Relationship:
      Akechi_Goro/Kurusu_Akira, Iwai_Munehisa/Kurusu_Akira, Akechi_Goro/Iwai
      Munehisa, Iwai_Munehisa/Akechi_Goro/Kurusu_Akira
  Character:
      Akechi_Goro, Kurusu_Akira, Iwai_Munehisa
  Additional Tags:
      Threesome_-_M/M/M, akeshu_-_Freeform, Iwaiakeshu
  Series:
      Part 1 of Intensity
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-05 Words: 5525
****** Expenditure ******
by AdventTraitor
Summary
     Akira's invitation to meet at the airsoft shop brings Akechi a new
     confidant of his own--and puts him in a situation far beyond what he
     was prepared for.
Notes
     If y'all won't write it, I will. Enjoy. :)
See the end of the work for more notes
Akechi frowned as he looked up at the unassuming sign for the airsoft shop.
Akira had assured him that the proprietor was trustworthy--he wondered just how
much this Iwai knew, but figured it was ultimately up to Akira to decide who to
tell and who not to tell about Phantom Thief business. It wouldn’t stop him
from worrying, but he wouldn’t bring it up. Not after he’d truly turned sides,
his loyalty to the Thieves uncontested.
The Thieves...and to Akira himself.
He often thought of his overcast gaze, so quiet and neutral, hiding the
machinations Akechi knew to be running nonstop behind those calculating eyes.
Thick, dark lashes framing each gray iris...the way his pale skin flushed when
he was aroused, the wailing cries he made when he was being pounded into his
mattress in the attic above Leblanc--
Akechi blinked. Luckily the alley he stood in was deserted, though a glance to
the left showed Caroline’s fuzzy outline raising an eyebrow at him from the
transparent door to the Velvet Room. He had no idea how long he’d been standing
there, but he shook his head and reached out to open the door, leaving his
reverie behind.
Akechi hardly had a need for “realistic” weapons— the very real glock hidden at
his side under his coat was proof of that—but Akira had a point, the rest of
the thieves hardly had cause to carry such weapons, and if they were caught
with them...well, best they were replicas. They worked in the metaverse, that’s
what really mattered.
The shop was empty—in fact, he wondered if it was even open for business. The
lights were off, only sunlight filtering through the unshuttered windows
illuminating the wares. Akechi turned on his heel, convinced Iwai had left the
door unlocked by accident, when he heard a muffled voice from what he presumed
was the stock room in the back. Cautiously, Akechi moved forward, eyes narrowed
as he pushed at the door that was already slightly ajar.
Iwai was mouthing at Akira’s throat, calloused hands tight on his waist as he
thrust up hard, a harsh rhythm knocking into the desk that took most of Akira’s
weight. Akira’s eyes were closed, mouth open as he gasped and whined softly,
biting down on his swollen bottom lip when he attempted to quiet himself. His
legs tensed around Iwai’s waist, arms tightening where they were wrapped around
broad shoulders, and Iwai chuckled softly against Akira’s bared throat.
“Not yet, kid,” he grunted, his hands tightening on jutting hip bones.
“I can’t, I can’t,” Akira keened, his eyes opening a fraction to show tears
gathering at his lower lashes.
“You will,” Iwai growled, his pace growing more harsh by the moment.
Akira wailed, throwing his head back and taking it as best he could, his hands
pulling at the back of Iwai’s head, keeping his face buried in his neck. His
head lolled to the side, eyes lidding open slightly and taking a moment to
focus on Akechi’s frozen form.
And then he smirked.
Akechi backed out, face flushed and pants tighter than they really should have
been as he fled the store and retreated to his apartment, briefcase held
strategically in front of himself while in public. The afternoon passed into
evening as Akechi tried, he tried so hard to concentrate on his homework and
not the noises pressed into his memory as roughly as Akira had been against
that desk—
A knock at the door pulled Akechi from his thoughts (and his hand from his
pants). Only two people ever knocked on Akechi’s door, and he doubted the post
man was the one waiting on him.
Akechi unlocked the handle, but kept the chain lock latched. The door opened
immediately, stopping suddenly when the chain reached its end. One nonplussed
gray eye peered at him from behind large black rimmed glasses.
“Are we really back to this phase in our relationship?” Akira asked drily,
probably raising an eyebrow.
“I’m not in the mood. Go find someone else to pamper you.”
Akira slammed a hand on the door, making Akechi jump.
“Let me in.” His gaze, what Akechi could see of it, was piercing. When he
didn’t move, Akira’s eye narrowed. “I think we need to talk.”
Akechi sighed, but relented. He motioned for Akira to step back, and unlatched
the lock when he did. Akira blinked at him when the door opened and stepped in
quickly, as though afraid the invitation would be rescinded.
Akechi closed the door behind him, turning slowly to see Akira making himself
at home, sitting comfortably on the couch that only he used. He cocked his
head, giving Akechi a slow once-over.
“It’s so nice to see you in normal person clothes,” he smiled sweetly. “Pretty
sexy, actually.”
Akechi rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and remaining
stubbornly by the door. “Oh yeah, ratty oversized t-shirt and sweats. So hot.”
“Don’t forget your hair pulled back in a ponytail...mmm, you know I love that.”
“Bad flirting aside...what do you want?”
Akira’s smile slid slowly into a more contemplative gaze.
“You’re bothered by earlier, aren’t you.”
Akechi considered feigning ignorance, wanting to forget what he’d walked in on
altogether rather than discuss it, but decided otherwise. It would only provoke
Akira into frustration, and not the good kind. Besides, the sooner this
discussion was over, the better.
“...You don’t belong to me,” he murmured after a few moments.
“No,” Akira agreed. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not bothered. Come here,” he
invited, gesturing to the spot beside him. Akechi acquiesced, sitting on the
cushion beside him, a respectable distance away. Akira rolled his eyes,
scooting closer until he was nearly wrapped around the other.
“Hey, I like to fuck around. It’s just part of who I am. But that doesn’t mean
I like you any less.” Akira pressed his lips to the hollow of Akechi’s throat,
who stubbornly continued to look forward. “I asked you to meet me there for,
uh...well, not a completely innocent reason if we’ll be honest. Mune, uh, got a
little ahead of me there…”
Akechi turned his head then, dislodging Akira’s face from his neck.
“What are you saying?”
“I know we have...similar tastes. Pretty boys…” he trailed off, curling a lock
of Akechi’s hair that escaped his ponytail around a finger, “...and older men.”
Akechi stared intently into Akira’s eager gaze, eyes narrow and suspicious.
“What if you had both at the same time?” Akira leaned forward to whisper into
his ear, nibbling gently.
Akechi took a deep, shuddering breath as Akira’s hand slid under the waistband
of his sweats, his lips latching onto his throat as Akira pulled himself
smoothly onto Akechi’s lap. “I mean...I take cock because I like taking cock. I
wonder how you’d look...getting pounded against a wall, hm?” Akira breathed,
his hand working slowly around Akechi’s length. “Oh, you were already thinking
about something...mmm, good, I’m impatient.”
“Akira,” he warned, but his voice had no bite to it. His hands were fisted at
his sides, unable to move as Akira painted vivid images in his mind.
“Maybe Mune can have you while you have me...ugh, I need you inside me,” Akira
whined, his free hand pressed against the tent in his own pants.
Akechi looked up at Akira’s flushed face, his own breath coming in pants as he
ground up against Akira’s perfect ass, and found he couldn’t suppress a
chuckle.
“You really are a whore, aren’t you?”
Akira’s eyes opened, but there wasn’t any offense in his smirk when he looked
down to meet his gaze.
“I know what I like, and I’m not afraid to ask for it. But if calling me a
whore turns you on...mmm, actually, that might turn me on.”
Akechi would have rolled his eyes if he hadn’t first pulled Akira down to him,
pressing into his smirking mouth and using his other hand to grab at his ass.
Akira hummed into his mouth, pushing his own pants down low on his hips with
one hand and working Akechi’s erection with the other.
“Your pants are in the way,” Akira murmured, huffing out a moan when Akechi’s
tongue shut him up. He sucked on it gratefully, squeezing his cock hard until
Akechi’s hips bucked.
“Thought you said they were sexy,” Akechi responded a few minutes later,
between the wet noises of their mouths sliding together.
“Sexier on the floor,” was the grunted reply.
Akira pulled back with difficulty, standing to kick his pants off, and yanked
at Akechi’s when he obligingly lifted his hips, his erection springing free
with a movement that made Akira’s mouth water. He reseated himself quickly, his
legs splayed over Akechi’s lap as he fell forward to continue their kiss. His
hands were fisted into the other’s hair as Akechi squeezed at his waist,
rolling his hips up smoothly to grind their erections together. The moan they
let out harmonized beautifully, and he did it again, and again, until Akira
pulled back panting.
“Fuck me,” Akira breathed, his lips swollen from their fervor.
Akechi shook his head, face flushed and dazed. “Lube,” was all he said.
Akira grunted, then pulled back to lean over to the side of the couch where an
end table sat, a thin layer of dust on its top attesting to how little it was
used. He opened the drawer and pulled the tube out, rolling it between his
fingers to show Akechi with a triumphant smirk.
Akechi blinked owlishly, an amusing expression on his red face. “I...didn’t put
that there,” he protested breathily.
“No, I did. I’ve always thought about having you on this couch,” Akira grinned.
“Christ,” Akechi muttered under his breath, but left it alone, especially when
Akira squeezed a slick hand around his cock. He reached for the lube, but Akira
swatted at his hand and tutted, his other hand still sliding leisurely up and
down.
“I don’t need anything. Trust me.”
“Whore,” Akechi grunted, pushing Akira’s hand away from his erection before
taking it himself, looking down to line Akira up and pull him down, his hips
lifting as he pressed in. Akira threw his head back and moaned, his fingers
clawing into Akechi’s shoulders as he lowered himself.
“God, I love riding cock,” Akira moaned, rolling his hips and biting down on
his lip. “Fuck me hard, I need it rough,” he whined, beginning a fast pace that
Akechi matched easily, crimson eyes lidded as he watched Akira’s face contort
with pleasure.
“You’re really fucking loose,” Akechi growled, bucking up hard as he pulled
Akira down. “And I’m at least the second you’ve had today. How many men have
you had this week alone?”
“I can’t help it,” Akira moaned, back arching up as he rolled his hips forward.
“It’s so good, so good,” he whined.
“Shut up,” Akechi grunted, pushing Akira off of him to land on his back on the
floor. He cried out, surprised and screamed when Akechi forced himself back in,
his hands gripping Akira’s hips hard enough to bruise.
“Fucking slut, shut the fuck up,” Akechi snarled, lifting a hand to shove his
fingers into Akira’s mouth.
Akira tightened around him, his hips bucking wildly until he came, choking on
Akechi’s fingers with tears sliding down past his temples and into his sweaty
hair. Akechi watched him, thrusting hard without rhythm until he followed, head
bowed as he groaned.
Akira remained on the floor, his hands up above his head as he simply panted,
trying to catch his breath. Akechi grunted and fell backwards, his back hitting
the couch as he slumped against it, drawing a knee up and watching Akira with a
fond, albeit tired gaze.
“You’re really good,” Akira muttered softly after some time had passed. “You’re
a detective, right? You work at the police station?”
“Not using real handcuffs,” Akechi grunted, heading off that request before it
was uttered.
Akira whined pitifully, but still didn’t move. “Where’s your sense of
adventure?”
“In the metaverse, which is more adventure than I’ll need for the rest of my
life. Clean yourself up, you’re filthy,” Akechi sniffed, standing and heading
for the bathroom himself. Akira lifted his head, then dropped it against the
floor again as he mustered the energy to get himself up. He knew an invitation
when he heard it, coming from Akechi--it took a while to decipher his weird
language, mostly what wasn’t said, but Akira was quite fluent at this point. He
struggled to his feet, then pulled off his blazer and turtleneck on the way to
the bathroom where the shower was already running, closing the door behind him.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------
“You thought about it. Don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying...I really don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Why not? Nobody will recognize you, and Mune won’t say anything to anyone. You
don’t have to worry about that.”
“I’ve met the man once.”
“He thinks you’re pretty.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“So charming, so humble. I know he’s your type, and I also know you like taking
it just as much as I do.”
“I’m not sure anybody likes it as much as you do.”
“Look, I’m offering this to you right now. If you really don’t want to, just
say so and I won’t ever bother you with it again.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to…”
“Oho?”
“...Fine. Give me the details when you have them.”
“This is going to be really fun.”
——————————————————————
Akechi stood stiffly beside Akira, bare fingers pulling absently at the
drawstring of the hoodie he wore. Akira wore jeans and a casual jacket,
completely at ease as he knocked on the door of the Shinjuku motel they’d
agreed to meet at. Akira looked to Akechi, who was staring forward with a glaze
in his eye.
“Relax. It’ll be good.” He grabbed Akechi’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the
backs of his knuckles soothingly.
“Thanks...but I’m fighting the urge to run right now. Maybe I shouldn’t do
this, maybe we shouldn’t—“
Akira squeezed his hand, threading their fingers together and lifting them to
his mouth.
“It’s going to be fine. If you really don’t want to, nobody will force you. But
if you’re just nervous...well. You won’t be soon.”
Akechi didn’t get to reply, the door opening and pulling their attention.
Munehisa Iwai, the gruff owner of the airsoft shop, stared down at them
indifferently.
“Right, get in here before someone sees you,” he grunted. He stepped out of the
way, and Akira led them in, pulling Akechi with their connected hands until the
door closed behind them. They turned to see Iwai, who leaned against the
doorframe, arms crossed looking them over.
“I’m kinda surprised this one agreed to this...not that I’m complainin’,” Iwai
nodded toward Akechi, who blanched at the attention. Iwai uncrossed his arms
and stalked forward, causing Akechi to tense and take a step back, though Akira
kept him from going too far. “Skittish, eh? Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell
anyone. You’re both underage, you know. Not too young, but enough I’d still get
in trouble if anyone found out.”
Akechi nodded, but didn’t say anything in response.
“Listen, kid...I ain’t gonna make you do anything you don’t wanna. Not into
that. So if you’re having second thoughts…” Iwai trailed off, taking in
Akechi’s face, his quickened breath, his flushed face...he stepped closer, and
saw his red eyes were dilated wide, the black of his pupil nearly obscuring the
rust of his iris. “Oh, I see...you’re holding back.”
Akira blinked looking between them with interest, but kept quiet.
“You got daddy issues, don’t you?”
Akechi swallowed, his face heating up.
“Don’t worry, I don’t care why you’re interested. Only that you are.” He
stepped close, up into Akechi’s personal space, and tilted his chin up with a
hand. “That one’s the same way.” He tipped his head toward Akira, but didn’t
break eye contact. “You can call me that if you want. He does.”
Akechi couldn’t respond, his mouth occupied with Iwai’s. His hand squeezed
Akira’s, the other pressing against Iwai’s shoulder—not pushing him away, but
pressing insistently.
Akira squeezed his hand, pulling away and reappearing behind him, hands sliding
along his waist and squeezing. He pressed up close, one hand sliding up his
shirt, the other joining Iwai’s and pulling his pants open and pushing in.
Iwai smirked, overwhelming Akechi’s mouth, scraping the stubble of his jaw
against his face and enjoying the reaction the boy gave him. Akira’s hand moved
from Akechi’s pants to Iwai’s, pulling them open and palming at his cock. The
angle was awkward, but it worked. Iwai moved his hand from Akechi’s jaw to
reach and grab at Akira’s ass, pulling both of them closer. Akira moaned,
biting at Akechi’s neck and grinding his own erection against him.
Iwai pulled back, watching Akira’s hand slip back to Akechi’s cock, jerking him
off at a languid pace as his other pinched at a nipple.
“Ahh, fuck. You two are way too pretty,” Iwai grunted, stepping back. “Get on
the bed. I gotta grab the stuff.”
Akira pulled his mouth from Akechi’s neck, grinning. “Best do as he says, or
daddy’ll give us a spanking.”
Akira yanked Akechi’s hoodie and shirt off, his pants following before Akira
pulled his own clothing off, falling backwards to the bed and pulling Akechi on
top of him.
“Told you it’d be good,” he whispered, nipping at Akechi’s ear.
Akechi huffed and leaned forward to kiss him, Akira accepting gladly. His legs
wrapped around Akechi’s waist, his hips rolling up to grind his erection
against the flat plane of his belly.
“Don’t, don’t do that now,” Akira moaned, pushing Akechi’s hand away from his
cock. “I don’t wanna cum yet, don’t make me cum.”
“Why not? We have all night,” Iwai smirked.
They both looked over at the same time to see Iwai stroking himself slowly,
watching them.
“I don’t wanna cum til I’ve been fucked,” Akira pouted stubbornly.
“That’s the plan.”
Iwai dropped a bag on the edge of the bed, then pulled the rest of his clothing
off. Akechi stared at the intricate tattoos pressed into his skin, amazed at
the artistry and the meaning behind it. Akira had told him about Iwai’s
connection to the yakuza, of course—it would be impossible to hide the
tattoos—but he had to have been someone very important to his clan to have
earned so much ink.
“I won’t bite unless you want me to,” Iwai raised an eyebrow. Akechi flushed,
realizing he’d been staring. His gaze slid down, past the tiger emblazoned on
his muscled chest down to the stylized designs adorning his abs, to the v of
his hips, to his straining cock, which was of course, rather big.
“You know, Mune,” Akira started, smirking as he sat up and brought Akechi with
him. “Goro gives really good head.”
“Huh, somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” He sat on the bed, the other two
moving so he could sit comfortably against the headboard. “C’mere, I’ll judge
that for myself.”
Akechi swallowed, his mouth watering at the prospect. Akira pulled him into a
messy kiss, more for show than anything else before he released him, pushing
him toward Iwai. He crawled forward, licking his lips before he leaned down,
taking the head in his mouth and sucking hard.
“Shit, kid,” Iwai grunted, his hand fisting in Akechi’s hair. “The fuck you
learn to suck cock like that?”
“Told you,” Akira chuckled. Iwai huffed, then gestured at the bag he’d dropped
earlier with his free hand.
“Make yourself useful.”
Akira stuck his tongue out, but did as he was told. He pulled out the lube and
a thick plug, grinning. “I’d ask if this is for me, but...I think Goro needs it
more.”
Iwai grunted, his gaze intense as he watched Akechi’s head bob, his cock
disappearing into the heat of his mouth.
“I always thought you had the perfect mouth for this,” Iwai murmured, a husky
growl in his throat as he spoke. “Every time I saw you on TV, I wondered what
your lips would look like wrapped around a cock. It’s better than I’d
imagined,” he smirked, pulling lightly at Akechi’s hair. “Mmm, I am a bit
curious as to where you got so good at this. Him, I understand; he’ll fuck
anything with two legs and a dick.” Akira tossed him a glare, but didn’t argue.
“But you...you’ve got a reputation to uphold, don’t ya?” He pulled Akechi down,
making him choke. Iwai reveled in the sound, watched the boy’s eyes tear up
until he let him pull back. “Where’s a detective prince learn how to give head,
hm?”
Akechi breathed heavily, wiping his eyes before he could think to answer.
“You don’t want to know.”
Iwai raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push. Obviously the kid had a background,
but...well, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He shrugged, and
let Akechi go back to mouthing at his cock, licking stripes up the shaft as he
gripped the base with one hand.
Akira hummed, pouring out lube on one hand and warming it up before he reached
between Akechi’s legs, stroking his cock slowly.
“Goro, lift your hips for me,” he murmured, smiling when he did. “Good boy,” he
hummed, his hand trailing back past his balls, and up to his entrance. “Relax,
okay?”
He pressed a finger to Akechi’s hole, teasing for a few seconds before pressing
in to the knuckle. Akechi moaned around Iwai’s cock, shifting to put his weight
on his knees while he kept his head bobbing in a smooth rhythm. Akira smiled,
meeting Iwai’s eyes over Akechi’s back.
“Isn’t he so good?” He pressed another finger in, scissoring lightly to get him
loose. “You deserve a reward for opening up so quickly, hm?”
Iwai threaded his fingers through Akechi’s hair, scratching lightly along his
scalp.
“Soon,” he growled, rolling his hips up before he tugged Akechi off of him.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered, tone rough and commanding and leaving no room
for disobedience.
Akechi cried out just as Akira thrust his fingers in hard, watching Iwai stroke
himself in quick, hard jerks until he spilled, his seed spurting all over
Akechi’s face. He swallowed what landed in his mouth, panting and moaning while
Akira kept working on him from behind.
“You want me to fuck you til Iwai recovers?” Akira asked sweetly, a
contradiction to the hard thrust of his fingers inside.
Akechi could only moan, and let Iwai pull him up to press into his mouth,
tasting himself and chuckling at Akechi’s uncoordinated movements.
“Here, put him on his back,” Iwai said. “I want to watch.”
Akira smirked, pulling his fingers out and pushing gently at Akechi’s side,
helping him roll to his back as Iwai left the bed. Akira slid easily between
Akechi’s parted thighs, settling on top of him with one hand on his waist, the
other pushing his sweaty bangs from his face.
“Aw, look at you. You’re a mess, Goro.” He licked a line up his cheek, cutting
a trail through the semen left there. “Well, I don’t mind a little role
reversal once in a while.” Akira slicked his own cock, then pressed in slowly,
his head bowed as Akechi whined, his back arching up hard. “Ahh, maybe I should
be on top more often, you’re so tight,” he moaned.
Akechi’s legs were shaking, his back arched painfully as he tried, failing, to
make himself relax. Akira’s hands slid to his waist, pulling him down into his
thrusts, a low noise curling up from his throat. Akechi’s hands were fisted in
the pillow at the sides of his head, mouth open as he panted, trying to beg but
unable to get the words out as he simply moved with Akira, their hips rolling
in time with one another as the heat built between them.
Akira glanced to the side, catching Iwai slumped comfortably in a chair with
his cock in his hand, half hard again already. He looked down to Akechi, face
flushed crimson, his cock bouncing against his belly with every thrust of his
hips.
“Are you gonna cum all over yourself, Goro? Gonna let me see your pretty face
when you lose it?” he simpered, wrapping a hand around his erection, giggling
at the oozing tip. “I know you wanna...cum for me, honey,” Akira keened,
thrusting hard in time with his hand until Akechi cried out, high pitched and
needy as he spilled himself over Akira’s fist and his own stomach. He lay
panting, arms relaxed over his head as Akira pulled out, still hard and ready.
Akira leaned down, spearing into Akechi’s mouth and licking, pulling back just
enough for a messy, open kiss for Iwai’s benefit. He hummed softly as he
reached down for the plug he’d grabbed earlier, slicking it efficiently before
he pressed it to Akechi’s entrance, leaning back to watch it disappear inside
of him. “You take it so well, Goro,” he whispered, stretching out on top of him
once the plug was pressed in as deeply as it could be. “Relax while you can.”
He kissed Akechi’s temple, grinning before his attention went elsewhere.
“Mune,” Akira called, spreading his thighs apart enticingly as he arched over
Akechi’s prone form, his knees perched on either side of the other. “Come fuck
me before I go crazy,” he winked as he wiggled his hips.
“Calm down,” Iwai growled, standing and stalking over to the two boys, settling
behind Akira. He slicked his cock quickly, before pressing into Akira without
warning. Akira cried out, landing on his elbows on either side of Akechi’s
face. Their foreheads pressed together as Akira moaned, pushed forward with
every thrust as Iwai fucked him hard, his hands gripping tight on his hips.
Akechi noted dazedly that Iwai was on his knees behind Akira, his calves
pressed against the outside of Akechi’s thighs. Akira’s legs were splayed wide,
tense and trembling as he took Iwai’s harsh pace. Akechi looked up, Akira’s
eyes screwed shut centimeters above his own as he moaned breathily. He reached
up, pulling Akira down to kiss him thoroughly, his arms winding around his neck
to keep him pulled down.
Iwai grunted, thrusting pointedly until Akira had to break away crying, tensing
and cumming hard, Iwai’s pace not slowing. Once Akira finished, cum mixing with
Akechi’s on his stomach and chest, Iwai pulled out and shoved Akira to the
side. He landed with a whine, the side of his face pressed into the sheets as
he lay bonelessly.
Iwai turned his attention to Akechi, who lay enticingly with his arms above his
head, hair a mess and so much cum streaked across his chest and belly it made
his cock twitch. Iwai placed a knee between Akechi’s thighs and leaned down to
nip at his throat. Akechi moaned, arms wrapping around his back to cling to
him. Iwai bit down hard as he pulled out the plug without ceremony, lined
himself up and pressed inside Akechi’s still-loose hole, the high pitched
scream echoing beautifully in his ears as he picked up the pace he’d had with
Akira, his hips bucking hard as he pulled at Akechi’s waist to arch his back to
the angle he was looking for.
“Fuckin pretty boys,” Iwai growled lowly, snarling when Akechi’s nails dragged
down his back. “Just a bat of your eyelashes and I’m done for.” Akechi bit his
swollen lower lip, his legs squeezing around Iwai’s waist tightly. The feeling
of Iwai’s stubble scraping against his throat made his eyes roll back, his hips
rolling harder into every thrust Iwai gave him until he was keening again, high
pitched and wanton as he was fucked into the mattress.
Akira chuckled softly from the side, having rolled to his stomach while he
watched with amusement, his legs bent and the knee and kicking softly in the
air. He reached an arm out, a finger tracing lightly at Akechi’s swollen lips.
“Look how well you’re taking it, honey,” Akira crooned.
Iwai grunted and tensed, cumming hard inside of him and pulling out shortly
after. Akechi blinked, watching Akira sit up to pull Iwai into a messy kiss,
his fingers pressing into Iwai’s short hair as the man’s hands settled on
Akira’s waist.
Akechi sat up with difficulty, wiping at his face until he felt some degree
cleaner. Iwai and Akira parted, then looked to him at the same time.
“Shower next?” Akira suggested with a grin.
Akechi fell backward, groaning. It was going to be a long, long night.
—————————————————————-
After a shower where Akechi had been pressed against the wall, Akira on his
knees before him and Iwai’s hands wandering over him, clearing his skin and
touching languidly, he found himself tangled comfortably with Akira on the
mattress—the sheets having been discarded to the floor. Iwai stood by the open
window, smoking silently as he looked down on the busy main street of Shinjuku.
“Y’know, kid,” he muttered softly, though the low growl of his voice reached
the two easily on the bed, “this means you’re under my protection now, whether
you want it or not.”
Akechi hummed, looking up through his lashes at Akira, whose brow was furrowed.
Iwai turned his gaze to the boys, eyes narrowed. “Don’t think I didn’t see
those bruises on your back. Didn’t say nothin’ cause I wasn’t sure how this was
gonna end up. But I know this wasn’t just Thief business.” Iwai stepped over to
them, pulling Akechi from Akira’s arms and pressing him onto his belly. He
poked hard at a nasty purpling bruise on his spine, making him wince and gasp
sharply.
“Iwai,” Akira warned lowly.
“You might have seen some shit in the metaverse or whatever, but this. This
kinda bruise is from some brass knuckles, and I don’t think that’s the kinda
enemy you fight down there.” Akechi remained silent, unmoving. Akira huffed,
crossing his arms.
“Who did that to you?”
Akechi rolled to his side, meeting Iwai’s even gaze.
“If I told you, he’d destroy you and your entire clan before you even tried to
do something about it. We can take care of ourselves, though I appreciate the
concern.”
“Don’t get all formal on me, detective prince. You might be a Phantom Thief,
but you’re still a damned kid,” Iwai scoffed. “You can’t get anywhere without
someone of consequence in your corner.”
Akechi glanced at Akira, who shrugged, sitting back.
“I haven’t been a kid in a long time, Iwai. But if you want to help...well, I
won’t refuse it. It has to be on my terms, however, and it can’t be about
that.” Akechi raised an eyebrow pointedly, to which Iwai sneered.
“Can’t let someone touch what’s mine like that. Won’t stand for it.”
“Yours, huh?”
Akira rolled his eyes. “His to protect. He likes that kinda thing. Makes him a
real good sugar daddy.”
“Call it what you want. It’s a point of pride now.”
Akechi sighed, sitting up and leaning back on Akira. “You don’t need to worry
about it. We already have a plan in place to get rid of him, using our
methods.”
Iwai raised an eyebrow, but let it go. He turned to snuff out his cigarette,
then leaned against the window frame.
“Well, I can’t say you don’t get results. But.” Iwai turned to flash a
dangerous glare, making Akechi huddle back slightly. “If this shit goes on much
longer, I’ll do what I need to. I got ways of finding out what’s what.”
Akira chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t worry. We’re just over a month out. I
want him gone just as much as you.”
“Right,” Iwai grunted. “Anything else you need?”
Akira hummed, quirking his lips to the side.
Akechi cocked his head, pensive. “You mean it? Anything we need?”
“Ain’t askin’ just to say no.”
“Can you get an apartment, or somewhere for me to stay without it being traced
back to me?”
Iwai grunted affirmatively. “Could get you a nice place just past Shibuya,
unless you want it further away. There something wrong with your parents’
house?”
Akechi smiled plastically, snorting softly. “I don’t live with my parents, and
the one who currently pays my rent also keeps a very close eye on the place.
I’d rather not be...taken unawares in my own apartment again.”
Iwai sighed, but didn’t ask any more questions.
“It’ll be done. Drop by the shop next week, I’ll get you the key.”
Akechi nodded gratefully, Akira squeezing his sides excitedly.
“Just so you know,” Iwai added, looking Akechi over slowly, “I’ll have a key,
too. And I’ll drop by sometimes, to see you.”
“I figured,” Akechi smiled. “Whenever you like.”
Iwai smirked, looking back out the window. He already knew who they were hiding
from, and the cogs were turning in a plan to smoke him out.
End Notes
     Porn with plot? More? Probably. I'm shamelessly in love with this
     threeway.
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