Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9037655.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Persona_5, Persona_Series
  Relationship:
      Akechi_Goro/Persona_5_Protagonist, Akechi_Goro/Kurusu_Akira
  Character:
      Akechi_Goro, Kurusu_Akira, Persona_5_Protagonist
  Additional Tags:
      Established_Relationship, Communication, Rough_Sex, Explicit_Consent,
      Bloodplay, Bruises, Anal_Sex, Power_Play, power_tripping, Snowballing,
      Aftercare, Breathplay, Risky_Sexual_Behavior, Manhandling, Verbal
      Humiliation
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-25 Completed: 2016-12-30 Chapters: 4/4 Words: 9021
****** Integration ******
by mousaerato
Summary
     Being exactly who and what you are with anyone is a risk. But with
     any risk, there's the possibility of reward.
Notes
     Remember kids: honest, open communication is the key to any
     successful, healthy relationship.
***** Chapter 1 *****
                Akechi Goro couldn’t believe it was real sometimes. Even after
months of living this reality, he still found himself consciously refocusing
his eyes to look at his surroundings, cautiously brushing his hands against the
furniture and photographs, and quickly initiating hugs “for no particular
reason” with his new roommate. Even with the regular reminders, the young man
found that he still had unusual moments of clarity where he was acutely aware
of his own body and everything around it, overwhelming his senses and making
him feel displaced from time.
                His bare feet were making light contact with acrylic fibers –
not wool, he noted – as were the backs of his legs. A warm, dense weight
pressed firmly against the outer flanks of them, dulled by two layers of light
cotton, one of which clung to his body. His back had a similar sensation:
warmth emanating from behind it, still perceptible under layers of material,
only one of which was upon his form. A similarly dense mass weighed around his
right shoulder, and along his right wrist, he could feel pads of skin brushing
against his own flesh. The clean, pungent smell of soap wafted to his nose from
above his head, coupled with the scent of familiar skin. His right ear was
pressed faintly against the source of warmth, letting him hear a faint thumping
coupled with the occasional sound of air moving. He could even feel the
rhythmic rise and drop of a mass near his neck and shoulders…
                A snap of fingers near his eyes forced them open, prompting him
to shake his head to reorient himself. He felt the vibrations against his skin
before he heard the low, dulcet voice: “Hey. You’re not falling asleep, are
you?”
                The brown-haired boy looked upward first to see a pale face,
pitch black curls, steel-colored eyes, and a relaxed smile directed to him. He
felt the world come back into focus again as he offered a laugh in response
before looking around in front of him to see the vivid cobalt of the couch
fabric, his feet, his legs that were covered in rust red pajama pants, his
boyfriend’s feet in white socks, and that same boy’s legs wearing green lounge
pants. A quick glance to the right confirmed that the black-haired boy’s
fingers, starkly contrasting the black shirt above them, were lazily tracing
his wrist underneath his white shirt. It was times exactly like these that Goro
needed the reminder that everything was real.
                “I was just zoning out,” Goro started with a teasingly
defensive tone in his voice. “What, am I too heavy for you?”
                “I thought maybe I was boring you.”
                Comments like that were always a source of (irrational) fear
for the detective. He quickly sputtered an answer in the negative, attempting
to soothe him. “Akira, you would never bor-”
                Kurusu Akira replied wordlessly at first with a hug, holding
the young man in his lap tightly to his chest. “Don’t panic,” he started. “I’m
not upset.”
                He did always know what to say. “Th-thanks,” Goro answered
shakily. He was grateful that his boyfriend understood him so completely and
compassionately. He knew his concerns over being abandoned and replaced were
baseless from a cognitive standpoint, but from an emotional one, it was a
constant threat. One wrong glance, one wrong word, one iota removed from
perfect, and he still feared that the sense of security he felt would be pulled
out from underneath of him. Autonomously, Goro looked upward again to Akira and
gave him a quick peck on the lips. The physical affirmations were always a good
way to remind himself that this was real.
                “So,” Akira started, “You got to ask me stuff last time. It’s
my turn, right?”
                “That was the agreement,” Goro replied cheerfully. He shifted
in Akira’s grip, turning to press their torsos together to look him directly in
the face. “What’s the question?”
                Akira’s eyes closed tightly for a moment, as if he was trying
to find the strength for the question. The two of them had agreed to be
completely honest with each other, even turning it into a game: they each got
one question a week. The questioner had to agree not to be upset or judgmental
about the answer, but in return, the person answering would give completely
accurate and honest information to the best of their ability. His voice started
slowly: “So…on the ship.”
                Goro averted his gaze, looking downward for a moment in shame.
His hand found Akira’s, which he grabbed firmly with a squeeze. “Yeah?”
                “You…um, did this…thing,” he struggled to find the right words
– Goro couldn’t discern if it was the terminology or the emotion attached to
the words that confounded the dark-haired boy.
                “The berserking thing?” Goro’s voice was steady, but thin.
                “Yeah, that,” Akira replied quickly, seemingly relieved. They
both exhaled, glad the conversation wasn’t going somewhere else from that day.
Of all the topics from that December evening, this was most likely the
lightest, on the surface. “I wanna know…what did that feel like?”
                The question unsettled Goro; the discomfort played on his face
as he winced instinctively. He sighed bitterly as he struggled to find the
words for a proper answer. Akira squeezed his hand again, assuring him it was
okay. “Is this too hard of a question?”
                “No,” he said as he shook his head slightly, “It’s just…a
complicated question.”
                “Take as long as you need,” he assured, placing his hands
firmly at Goro’s hips, rubbing at his sides encouragingly.
                Goro took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying his best to
find the right words. Slowly and in fractured sentences, pieces of thoughts, he
found them: “Well…for shadows, I don’t know – I mean, I can’t know. I…assume it
must have been painful, with the screaming…” He opened his eyes to read Akira’s
expression: his eyes were clear, steady, and nonjudgmental. Drawing strength
from his boyfriend’s resolve, Goro continued.
                “But if you mean on me – which I guess is the question –
just….” His voice stopped, throat dry.
                Akira rubbed Goro’s back softly. “You can tell me anything.”
                 “If I said I enjoyed it, would that sound too weird?”
                Akira’s breath hitched slightly as his hands slowly smoothed
down Goro’s back again, settling just above his backside. “N-no,” he stammered
abruptly. “Not at all.”
                “I’ve never been on drugs, and I’ve only ever had one drink,
but…it was intoxicating. That’s the best word.”
                “How?” Akira’s voice was…strained,and deeply curious. His hands
dug ever so slightly into Goro’s sides, more possessively than before.
                The detective closed his eyes and tried to shut out the
surroundings as he cleared his mind and focused on that memory. In measured,
soft tones, he started again. “It was like any sense of right or wrong was
gone. It was…light-years away, faded. The scenery was gone – all that was there
was what I wanted. Any sense of choice or decision-making was out the window –
it was like sheer willwas in my veins. And the power…I think I could have
pulled someone’s limbs from their sockets, easily. And I probably would have
felt great doing it. It was as if the only thing that mattered was the last
thing I craved before I went under, and I had suddenly been given all the power
in the world to do it however I wanted. It was incredible, actually. Nothing
else matt-”
                His speech was interrupted by the sound of slow, ragged
breathing and the sensation of a hand on his ass.  Startled, Goro opened his
eyes to discover Akira’s face had begun to turn red. Suddenly aware of his
boyfriend’s glare, Akira sheepishly avoided his gaze by looking downward.
                “I know we promised no judgment,” Goro started, “but…what the
fuck?” He brought his hands to Akira’s face to remind him to look him in the
eyes.
                “I…” he started, voice straining from his body being
overheated, “please keep talking.”
                Goro shifted slightly between his boyfriend’s legs, and it
became obvious very quickly what was happening. He felt his own face blush then
out of some combination of shame, anxiety, and arousal before stared right into
those gunmetal eyes: “Are you serious?”
                There was fire in those earthy eyes, one of curiosity and some
anger, certainly. But after all this time, the black-haired trickster knew the
real emotion beneath them was passion.“It sounds hot,” he admitted as he
brought one hand up to card through Goro’s brown hair.
                “It sounds dangerous,” he corrected quickly before gasping
softly. Without any warning, Akira’s lips had found their way to his neck,
humming into the skin with affirmation.
                “That just makes it sound more exciting,” he retorted.
“Besides, it felt good for you, right?”
                “Mm- yes,” he confessed, voice uneven. Everything felt too warm
suddenly, out of his control. He had to remain calm, remain perfect, remain
wanted. “But…”
                As if he was able to read Goro’s mind, Akira interrupted him:
“I wantyou, not some…cleaned up version of you. I don’t want a doormat.”
                Goro recognized his own arousal, but still tried to ignore it
in the name of rationality. “I could really hurt you, you know.”
                “How badly.” His voice was flat, as if he negotiating a
foregone conclusion instead of making a request.
                “I don’t know.”
                “I can handle myself,” Akira offered with a slight chuckle.
                “You – do you know even know what you’re asking?”
                “Well, you said it works by making you focus on the last thing
you really desired and thought about, right?”
                Goro looked down to see a devious smile on Akira’s lips.
Slowly, they were both coming to the same conclusion. With the anxiety melting
from his voice, Goro responded coyly: “Yes…in fact, it’s the onlything I can
really think about.”
                “Let me see you like that.”
                The bluntness of the request sent a shockwave of arousal and
fear through the brunette. “What do you want…exactly?” The possibilities and
calculations were running through his mind as he waited for details to fill in
the gaps.
                “Rough me up.”
                “Be more specific.” His glare became more scrutinizing, taking
in each detail of the curly-haired youth’s face as he spoke.
                “Bruises, at least.”
                “‘At least?’” He knew Akira was a thrill-seeker and an
adrenaline junkie, but this…
               “I like being sore afterwards,” he confessed. Goro couldn’t stop
himself from exhaling a small moan when Akira gave him the most direct, blunt
answer, whispered directly in his ear: “Do whatever you want with me.”
                “Not without proper preparation,” he said playfully. Being able
to merge his rational thoughts with his more feral ones was quite fun, he
noted. “I…don’t want to hurt you too much. Not permanently.” Through a singular
act of will, Goro managed to extricate himself from his sweetheart’s grip,
finally sitting properly on the couch. This was the time for careful planning.
                “I’ll take your gun,” Akira started as he also straightened up
to sit upright, feeling like he was planning a raid. “I’ll lock it up so you
can’t use it.”
                “Obviously, this would have to be in the Palace, so – ”
                “Your other weapons, too, yeah.”
                “You might get severely injured –”
                “That’s the plan,” Akira interrupted.
                “…So,” continued Goro, mildly annoyed and mildly turned on,
“First aid kit, definitely.”
                “Extra bandages…burn cream-”
                “Burn cream?”
                “Like, friction burn.”
                “You’ve…thought about this before, haven’t you,” Goro said
curiously.
                “Guilty.” Akira had no shame in his voice at all.
                Goro placed a hand on Akira’s thigh, eliciting a small huff of
surprise as he raked along the skin with his blunt nails, just hard enough to
give a jolt of pain. Without even looking over at the boy, Goro murmured with a
sense of relief, “So have I.”
                The detective could hear the smile in Akira’s voice as he
giddily continued the preparations: “So…do we need anything else?”
                “Extra clothes. It wouldn’t hurt to have them.”
                “Sure.”
                “Wait – there isone thing,” Goro noted as he turned to look at
his partner. “What about yourweapons? What if I get a hold of them?”
                “We’ll have to stash them too.”
                “You need something to fight me off. Telling me to stop isn’t
going to be enough. No offense…just a precaution.”
                “I can just kick yo-”
                Akira’s suggestion was met with a low, darklaugh that bit at
his stomach, filling him with anticipation. Somehow, the fear only intensified
it once Goro spoke: “Trust me. You won’t be able to.” No teasing cadence, no
playful lilt – just a statement of cold fact. It sent a chill down Akira’s
spine.
                 “Okay,” he managed. “I think I’ve got another idea.”
                “A real one?” Goro said with a smile, back to his normal
teasing voice.
                “Yes, a real one. Iwai owes me a favor, and his ties go deeper
than you’d think.”
                “Alright then...so, when should we do this, since it’s obvious
you’ve wanted this for a while?”
                “Next week. That should be enough time to get what I need.”
 
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     I thought this story was going to be shorter...
                “Okay, let’s go over this again…” Akechi Goro’s voice was
measured and calm as he and Kurusu Akira looked down at the packaged boxes and
implements left on the blue, carpeted floor beneath them. There were four white
plastic boxes, a large black duffel bag full of extra clothes for them both, a
small camel-colored briefcase for Goro’s gun that was locked tight, and a
slate-colored suitcase that had been left open, filled with Akira’s knife and
gun, as well as Goro’s toy weapons and his serrated blade. What stood out,
however, was the pile of small plastic implements laid carefully in isolation
from everything else, closer to the boys’ feet: 12 marker-like implements, six
of which were painted bright red.  “What do we have? Do we need to get anything
else?” His arms were crossed over his chest at first, eventually moving an arm
to use a white-gloved hand to survey each item, carefully eyeing every detail
before him.
                The boy in the black trench coat couldn’t help but find his
thoughtfulness endearing. Understanding the seriousness of the situation,
however, Akira joined him in the gradual inventory, kneeling down to open the
white plastic boxes to reveal their contents. “Four first aid kits,” he started
as he cataloged the contents of each, “antiseptic wipes – ”
                “How many?” Goro inquired firmly.
                “Five in each box, so 20,” Akira shot back quickly as he looked
over to the brown-haired detective. “You’re…really serious about this, huh?”
                 “I don’t want any unknown quantities making this more outside
my control than it has to be.”
                That shouldn’t have sounded so appealing,his dedication to
near-surgical precision, but Akira was long at peace with many of his thrill-
seeking tendencies being contrary to reason. “Okay then,” he started with a
slight smile, “Should I just give you the totals or – ”
                “Individual contents, then do the math,” he instructed. His
voice was low and filled with purpose – Akira could practically see the plans
forming in his head as he spoke, and it was abundantly clear to him from Goro’s
staccato intonation that he had no choice but to follow the directions. He
always knew his boyfriend had it in him – it was one of the reasons he liked
him, after all.
                “25 bandages – adhesive ones,” he added quickly, somehow
discerning he wouldn’t be allowed to get away with generalizations. “So we have
100 of those. One roll of cloth tape for a total of four –”
                “How much exactly?”
                The command for specificity hit Akira like a slap. “Nine meters
each, so there’s 36 altogether.”
                “Good. Keep going.” The distance in the voice was the first
moment Akira recognized that Goro was actually looming over himinstead of
kneeling with him for the work. The realization caused the youth on the floor
to exhale a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he needed to let out to calm
himself.
                 “Three twelve ounce bottles of water...four cloth rags. Two
one gram sachets of burn cream, eight total. Five one gram packets of ointment,
20 total. Same with the antiseptics –”
                Another verbal slap. “Don’t get lazy with this.”
                “Five in each, 20 total,” he corrected, suddenly noticing how
warm his cheeks felt. He pushed past the anxiety and thrill that shot down his
spine and continued with a mild stammer: “Two packets of aspirin, eight total.
One cold compress, four total. Two pairs of gloves…eight total,” he paused as
he felt a warm hand touch his left shoulder delicately, making his hair stand
on end as a single finger traced from his shoulder blade to the back of his
neck. Turning, he looked up to see Goro’s face: a restrained kind of half-
smile, sienna eyes clear and almost predatorily attentive, taking in every
small reaction Akira gave.  
                Goro brought his right hand to Akira’s chin, bringing his
clearly-flushed face upward to keep him in his gaze. Smoothly, darkly, and
coolly, Goro whispered, “Well? Don’t let me stop you.”
                Hastily, Akira returned to his counting, feeling motivated to
do so quickly and efficiently. The numbers came to him surprisingly quickly:
“One pair of scissors, four total; two types of roller bandages, eight total;
eight individual packages of gauze, 32 total; one pair of tweezers, for a total
of four.”
                The boy in princely white loomed over Akira, pressing his chest
against his back as he dipped down to grab one of the pens on the floor. “And
these?” His voice wasn’t commanding this time, but curious; Akira felt the
unspoken tension in his body start to dissipate as he began to recognize signs
of the boy he’d been living with slowly return. Goro knelt down next to him
finally, picked up a plastic-cased pen to examine it, and continued. “These are
from Iwai, I assume?”
                “Yeah.”
                He scrutinized the tip of the device, eyes narrowing. “Auto-
injectors?”
                “Mhm,” Akira confirmed. “They’re CANA – well, six of them,
anyway.”
                Goro’s face finally revealed some fear, eyes widening as he
began to register the reality of what he held in his hand. In a raised whisper,
as if trying to keep anyone else from hearing, he asked, “He got these from the
American military?”
                “Told you his connections ran deeper than you’d think.”
                “And the red ones?” His words were rushed.
                “Custom-order – he had a supplier modify the CANA. He said I
didn’t sound certain that diazepam would be enough. And, well…I really wasn’t
sure it would be enough.”
                “What the helldid you do for him?”
                “Do you really want to know?”
                Goro paused for a moment to consider. “On second thought...no.
Just – tell me what’s in the red ones.”
                “Propofol.”
                Akechi Goro, the trained detective, quickly deduced a line of
reasoning for the source of the drug: Akira only had a few days, so Iwai must
have had either a personal supply (plausible, but unlikely he’d give his own
goods to a business associate, even as a favor) or had connections to a local
source (considerably more likely, given the recent news that hospitals had been
using it a little too liberally.) Plus, Iwai had them refitted – it had to have
been someone with firsthand experience working with such materials. Sure, there
was a seedy clinic in town that probably could do it, but he knew that
proprietor specialized in custom drugs,not refitting medical technology. It had
to have been an unscrupulous person affiliated with a hospital – that’s how the
police got their supplies, after all.
                Goro’s voice softened, uncertain if he should feel disgusted or
flattered by the effort. “Oh my god.”
                “You said you were absolutely certain I wouldn’t be able to
fight you off,” Akira explained in a tense voice, attempting to defend himself.
“It starts working faster than diazepam – a few seconds might make all the
difference. But he did mention that it would notbe a good idea to use both on a
person unless it was absolutely necessary.”
                Definitely procured from a shady medical professional,Goro
concluded. “Okay,” he offered, a little shakier than he would have liked.
                “Are you okay?” Akira asked.
                “Just...surprised you got all this.”
                “You were worried, so I got a dozen.”
                “Like a bouquet of flowers,” Goro mused.
                “That’s…one of the reasons why the propofol ones are marked in
red,” Akira admitted with a sly smile.
                Goro shook his head as he tried to suppress a smile of his own.
“You are…unbelievable.”
                “I don’t hear you complain-”
                Before he could finish his thought, Akira felt two hands
tugging at his hair, pulling him forward to press their foreheads together.
Goro pressed his hands against the sides of Akira’s head, brushing his
cheekbones with his thumbs, ensuring the gray-eyed youth saw every hungry,
dark, uninhibited intention in his deep brown eyes. In a breathy, scratchy
whisper, Goro commanded him: “Now…go hide those injectors in the next room. And
do it silently –do you understand?”
                Akira’s only reply was a gulp and a barely perceptible nod,
overwhelmed by the contrast between his boyfriend’s cold demeanor and his prior
warmth. A chill ran through his body as Goro’s gloved fingers traced down his
neck, over his Adam’s apple, and down his chest to his coat pocket, feeling at
a small plastic bottle contained within. “And…get ready, too,” he murmured,
heavy with intent. “I know I won’t have the patience to do it for you.”
                Wordlessly, Akira pulled Goro in for a deep kiss, sliding his
tongue into the other boy’s mouth roughly and imprecisely as he tugged at his
mahogany locks. Though he didn’t want to, Goro managed to break the kiss,
breaking the silence in the room with a loud pop.
                “Get going,” he commanded. With that, Akira gathered up the 12
injectors and strode quickly, noiselessly into the room ahead of them. Sure
enough, Goro could hear no shifting of furniture, no ruffling of sheets, or
even the opening of any doors. He palmed at himself impatiently, already
thinking about what was to come.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     This story was not supposed to be this long - I don't know what
     happened. Also: please accept my sincerest of apologies for this
     chapter's delay. My goal was to have this completed by the end of
     Christmas Day, but between family visits and two major medical
     incidents, this had to take a back seat. I hope this is good enough
     to justify the wait.
                Akira rested flat on his back in a large bed with soft, bone-
white sheets, spreading out his limbs lazily. His shoes were already removed,
and while he opted to keep his coat on, he decided to keep the bottle of lube
on the nightstand next to the bed to have it readily available. He was pretty
sure the coat wasn’t going to survive the ordeal, anyway – or at least, he
hoped it wouldn’t.  Despite his attempt to relax, Akira could feel every fiber
of his being alive with a simmering tension and anticipation. He was afraid, he
could confess, but excitement of uncertainty overrode it all too easily,
leaving it washed away in a wave of hyper-vigilance. He practically jumped out
of his own skin when he finallyheard Goro’s shoeless footsteps as he entered
the room, and he felt himself throb in anticipation when he caught a glimpse of
the intruder.
                The dark blue and black on his form was the first thing Akira
noticed, bringing back memories of the first time he saw it – the fear, the
horror, the sense of being overcome by a magnetic, dark charisma. Weeks after
it was over, he found that image lurking in his dreams with slightly less
murderous intent, looming over him ominously before the sweet spark of pain
would arrive, rousing him from sleep filled with lust. He had wanted to ask
Goro about it for a while, wondering what he would say – and hoping that maybe
hearing it from his own lips would help stop the thoughts. But this…this seemed
like a better opportunity for them both, from the black-haired boy’s
perspective: no shame, no judgment, and no guilt. While he was excited to have
that burden from desiring this lifted from him, Akira knew that his boyfriend
needed the guilt of wanting to givethis taken away from him much more.
                The mask and helmet of the ensemble, like his own mask, had
been completely removed, giving Akira the chance to admire the intruder’s
chestnut-colored hair and deep brown eyes as their owner slowly closed the
space between them to settle on top of him, knees between Akira’s spread legs
and dark-gloved fingers laced through his black hair. Akira hissed in
anticipation, relishing even the slight indirect pressure the body above him
created. Quickly managing to remove his own gloves, Akira placed bare hands on
his boyfriend’s hips, urging him wordlessly to quicken the pace of things. His
fingers tried fruitlessly to dig into the skin beneath the dark fabric,
eventually resorting to raising his own hips in a futile attempt to find some
stimulation.
                In response, Goro tugged a fistful of Akira’s hair hard enough
to pull him back from his desires into reality. His smoke-gray eyes were
already hazy with want; Goro couldn’t help but give a small, throaty chuckle at
the sight of his sweetheart already coming undone. A smug smile curled onto his
face as he watched Akira’s eyes and mouth shut rapidly in response to another
yank at his hair, this time earning a small, barely perceptible yelp as well.
Goro pulled a little more as he pressed his hips into Akira’s, grinding into
him ever so slightly. For Akira, the pain in his head was suddenly a thousand
miles away, all conscious thought focused intently on the friction between his
legs and the need to get more of it. He gripped Goro’s hips again, covertly
attempting to dictate the pace of it all.
                With a shallow snap of his hips, Goro separated from Akira
before lowering his head to whisper directly into the ear of the boy beneath
him: “Wow,” he said with a laugh, “you’re really desperate.”
                An undignified groan was Akira’s only response. Encouraged,
Goro pushed his hips into the body beneath him again as he brought his face up
to watch the pale boy’s features for the tiniest responses. His face was
flushed, and with each minuscule movement and pivot of Goro’s hips, Akira
struggled to hold back the unbidden responses he knew his lover would savor and
taunt him with. The pace was agonizingly slow, and each time Akira felt himself
start to lose himself in the brief sparks of pleasure, Goro brought him back
with a measured dose of humiliation.
                “Your eyes are closed, but I can stilltell they’re rolling back
in there, you know,” he murmured as he dipped still-gloved digits into Akira’s
mouth, pulling at his lower lip. The shock of the sensation forced Akira to
open his eyes again to see Goro’s dark, hooded eyes glaring at him. “By the
way…you do know you’ve been muttering things to yourself, right?”
                Akira attempted an answer, finding his consonants distorted by
the firm grip on his lower lip. Goro scoffed at him then, starting, “Pretty
close to how you were sounding earli –”
                Goro’s arrogance earned him his first act of defiance: a bite
to his fingers. He looked down then, almost impressed, to see a glint of teeth
with a half-smirk trying to pry his gloves from his hands. Goro wasn’t entirely
surprised; after all, he’d seen how much suffering Akira could take in other
circumstances.
                “Bold,” acknowledged the boy in the cobalt garments as he
regained control of his hands, finally removing the gloves and tossing them to
the floor.
                “Tease,” Akira spat back, still smiling. Goro’s smug
countenance revealed a bit of a smile as well.
                “Shut up,” he growled, quickly returning his now-bare hands to
Akira’s hair, silencing his retorts with a passionate kiss, sucking and biting
at his lower lip with full knowledge it would sting. The darker-dressed boy
beneath was frenzied, tongue all too eagerly exploring the mouth that had just
been spilling insults like intoxicants into his ears. His hands wandered
quickly around Goro’s torso, looking for some way to remove at least one layer
of fabric that separated them. After planting a few more chaste kisses to his
lover’s mouth, the brown-haired boy took the hint, perceiving that it would
probably be a good time to rid himself of them before he most likely lost
awareness of their very existence. Akira desperately tried to help, calloused
fingers following Goro’s lead in peeling away the surprisingly light material
until he was left only in a small pair of boxers, similarly dark blue.
                “You’ve been wanting this for a while, haven’t you?” Goro asked
in a taunting, haughty voice as he straddled Akira’s hips and brought his mouth
down to bite teasingly at his neck.
                The breathy, low response from the boy beneath him was sublime:
“I’ve been wanting you.”
                With one more nip to the neck, Goro returned to kissing Akira
on the lips. The black-haired boy’s responses were steadier this time, more
precise and almost gentle as he brought his body up from the supine position
into a sitting one. He broke the first small kiss by skimming the tip of his
tongue against Goro’s lips, asking for entrance. The brown-eyed boy allowed it,
earning himself a pale hand rubbing at his right hip again as they both became
too warm, finding themselves once again all too hungry and eager.
                They stopped and took a good, hard look at each other. Akira
was sweaty, and his eyes were filled with devotion; Goro knew for himself that
at this point, he’d be willing to do anything and everything to keep his
beloved looking at him like that. Knowing he had the power to bring Akira to
his knees, to exert mental and physical superiority over him, to make the
mighty leader take orders for once – those feelings were both exciting and
shameful for Goro. Knowing now that they were wanted and could be indulged
safely, however…that was a different kind of novelty and excitement.
                Pressing his forehead to Akira’s, Goro asked in a heavy voice,
“Now?”
                “Okay,” whispered Akira in agreement, not even trying to hide
the smile that had begun to form on his face.
                Wordlessly and without ceremony, the brown-haired boy who was
normally the picture of poise and control summoned a taste of that same
darkness he had used before. His quiet smile turned into a cackling grin as he
brought his left hand down to grab possessively at Akira’s thigh, causing the
boy to hiss in pain from the extended pressure. After five seconds of intense,
sharp pain, Goro’s hand finally left his lover’s leg while he gradually, slowly
caught his own breath from the high he had inflicted upon himself. His eyes
were feral for a few moments before they relaxed, pupils dilating as if looking
at an object of love and lust.
                Just as Akira was about to reach for him for a kiss, Goro’s
right handpinned his body down the bed effortlessly on its own. The black-
haired boy winced in pain as he looked up to see a crazed smile playing upon
the lips he had just tried to taste, with eyes he could only describe as
hungry.  Before he could begin to process it all, the dark haired boy felt the
now-familiar sensation of having his hair pulled roughly. This, however, was
considerably more intense; his whole body was pulled upward and forward,
tearing some individual hairs from his head in the process. He exhaled with
relief when the hand finally left his head, though his scalp still throbbed
persistently. Suddenly, a new feeling overcame him: a hungry, aggressive kiss
that sucked at his tongue violently, followed by a sudden bite at his already-
sensitive lips. As his paramour deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue further
into his mouth, Akira could taste the unmistakable rust-like bitterness of his
own blood mixed with their saliva. To call it “sensory overload” would be an
understatement; Akira couldn’t think, only feel. He adoredit.
                The taste of blood grew even as Goro’s lips finally left
Akira’s; clearly, he had drawn more than the overwhelmed boy had first managed
to discern in the mix of confusion, arousal, and heat. As that predatory mouth
moved noisily to suck and bite bruises into his neck, Akira managed to discern
the sensation of hands at the lapels of his jacket. He thought to shift around
and move to make its removal easier, but the youth still plying his exposed
skin with attention made it obvious it wouldn’t be necessary, easily tearing
the fabric like it was glorified wrapping paper and tossing the chunks on the
floor in an ugly heap. Goro scoffed at Akira’s surprised gasp, arrogantly
reminding him as he gave the dark gray waistcoat the same treatment, “I didtell
you this would happen...what, did you think I was lying?”
                Once his partner’s torso was bare like his own, Goro stopped
lavishing his partner’s neck with attention, taking a moment to run a curious
finger over the marks to admire their pink and reddish marks, certain they
would change to brown and blues later. Akira brought a hand to Goro’s hip,
gripping it to steady himself as the other boy pressed into the bruises
inquisitively. “You know,” he whispered haughtily as Akira hissed from the
pain, “these look good on you.” He brought his head up to look at Akira’s lips,
revealing a tiny smear of blood from his mouth. “The red too,” he continued,
pausing a moment to bring his left hand down to touch the one holding his side.
The simple gesture of warmth – intimacy, even – brought a pleased, surprised
sigh from Akira’s mouth, low and soft. Goro looked at his face intently, seeing
those same dazed, amorous, practically drunkeyes he had burned into his memory,
thrilled and even more aroused. He quickly took up Akira’s wrists into his
hands, pressed into the skin with a twist, and leveraged his body weight to
press the boy back into the bed, pinning his arms in place.
                “But I like this better,” Goro said with a devious smile as he
effortlessly rearranged himself, straddling the boy’s hips and feeling his
obvious desire. Akira tried again to get some kind of friction and relief,
pushing his pelvis upwards with a swivel of his hips, repeating the action in
small measures almost autonomously. He was deliriously turned on; the pain,
pressure, heat, and sweat had seemingly bled into each other, turning into one
blurry pile of arousal. Sentences seemed impossible; even his very thoughts
were jumbl-
                Another jolt of pain struck Akira as Goro pressed down harder
into his wrists. The black-haired boy tried to free himself from the grasp,
normally able to get out after a few pushes in retaliation. It became
abundantly clear to the boy, even in his seemingly intoxicated state, that the
youth on top of him was simply too strongright now. There was no escape
possible unless Goro permitted it – and recognizing that only made Akira groan
as he struggled futilely to feel the unequivocal power the brown-haired boy had
over him.
                “Do you like being helpless?”
                The pale, trapped boy managed a small nod, unintentionally
stimulating the still-blooming bruises on his neck, causing him to shut his
eyes violently.
                “Answer me,”Goro commanded.
                “Nh-Yes,” he replied breathily.
                Goro chuckled darkly as he tightened his grip on Akira’s arms,
pressing into them with more force to elicit another wince and whine from the
pain. As the sadist finally released them, Akira exhaled a sigh of relief,
certain there would be dark, stinging and inhibiting bruises on his arms for
days after. Those cruel, wonderful hands settled on the sides of Akira’s face
then, pulling him back to full attention.
                “Good,” he murmured as he ground his hips into his lover’s once
more before dismounting him to rest by his side. “Do you want to play a game?”
                “Yes,” Akira replied excitedly, much faster than he would have
liked.
                He traced the sides of his face delicately as he spoke. “How
fast can you get the rest of your clothes off?”
                Akira didn’t need another hint. He quickly brought his fingers
to the buttons of his black slacks, searching for the place to start so he
could finally have some relief. Before he could begin undoing the buttons,
however, Goro’s hands moved near his mouth and nose, with their owner giving a
blunt, abrupt edict: “Breathe.”
                The dark-haired boy took a shallow, leisurely breath before
realizing that his mouth had been covered and his nose pinched shut. The shock
of the sensation left his hands fumbling, mind suddenly focused on saving what
air he had left. A strange feeling overcame the fear in a few moments that
seemed to stretch: giddiness, followed by disorientation, followed finally by
redoubled fear as his lungs began to burn. Even then, his arousal didn’t
diminish; in fact, he felt more willing as his cock twitched slightly in his
pants.
                When Goro released him, the feeling of relief and joy was
almost enough to get him off right then and there. He shuddered as he inhaled
deeply, feasting on the air he had just been deprived.
                “Still dressed,” Goro reprimanded. “Let’s try that again…”
                Akira began working quickly, now able to anticipate what would
come next. He managed to undo the first two buttons of his black, formal pants
before he heard the command again: “Breathe.”
                He managed a deep breath this time before Goro’s hands returned
to put him under. His eyes stayed open as he worked, getting the last button
opened and managing to undo the zipper in its entirety before the fatigue set
in. The pale boy had to let his eyes close as he tried to pull the pants down,
feeling himself start to shut down.
                “Better,” Goro complimented acerbically as he allowed Akira to
breathe normally.  He watched as the youth by his side frantically tugged at
his pants and underwear, finally shaking them loose and kicking them both to
the floor before placing his dominant hand firmly around his cock, smearing the
precum across the head and relishing the direct stimulation. Still, he looked
over at Goro expectantly as he worked – he had never experienced a feeling of
deprivation and neediness that way before, and despite the pain and anxiety of
it, the sensation of being able to breathe again after was addicting.
                “What?” asked Goro, slightly annoyed.
                “Can you…”
                A cruel, taunting smirk played upon Goro’s face. “You want me
to do it again?”
                “Please,” he huffed. Hearing Akira actually begmade Goro
practically want to take him right then and there.
                “You’re a sick fuck,”he cackled gleefully, enjoying being able
to leverage so much power over him.
                For a reason he couldn’t place himself, Akira found himself
giggling and smiling in response to in the insult. All the attention, all the
endorphins…they felt good. More than good.
                Goro didn’t even give the direction to breathe; he promptly
sealed off the airways one more time, watching Akira tense up in anxiety and
pleasure as he continued stroking himself until he nearly passed out. When his
eyes opened as the air returned to his lungs, Akira found Goro looking at him
with a half-lidded, lustful gaze. He pressed their foreheads together as he
quietly slipped out of his underwear, leaving both of them completely bare when
he spoke again: “You’re really enjoying the pain, aren’t you?”
                “Mhm…” he vocalized, seemingly unable to manage anything else.
                The brown-eyed boy looked at his paramour’s flushed, sweaty
face and gave him a sinister, dark look. “The bed’s too nice for you, then.”
                Swiftly, Akira found himself shoved roughly onto the floor in
front of the nightstand, falling onto his back with a small thud, feeling the
slightest sensation of carpet roughly brushing on the skin of his back and
knowing somehow there’d be more. The power-crazed boy loomed over Akira, taking
in every detail of his body in admiration of his work: the paler youth was
glazed with sweat as his hair stuck to his forehead, his neck was varnished
with red and brown splotches, and his whole body seemed to shiver in
anticipation, fear, and delight as Goro’s eyes gave him the once-over,
lingering a little longer on his cock before finally looking him in the eyes
again.
                Even in a pleasure-fueled daze, Akira could tell where things
were going to go very quickly. He managed to reach an arm up to the small
nightstand and grab the bottle he knew he would need before Goro roughly
grabbed at his right ankle, dragging him forcibly across the floor like he was
a ragdoll to the space in front of the bed. The skin on Akira’s shoulder
blades, lower back, and ass stung as the material tore against the sensitive
flesh, sending jolts of heat and pain forcibly through his body. He hissed
through clenched teeth, closing his eyes momentarily before Goro spoke,
thankful he didn’t dislocate anything.
                “You’ve got ten seconds. Do you understand?”
                Akira opened his eyes to see Goro’s glare on him, menacing and
stern. He kneeled over him, leaving his erection in clear view and reach of the
boy beneath him. “One…two…”
                Yes, Akira understood; he nodded in affirmation as his fingers
worked as quickly as possible to open the bottle he had managed to keep his
grip on. He worked on Goro’s shaft first, relishing the slight hiss he gave
between the numbers he enunciated so sharply, trying not to be too haphazard
while doing so. By the time Goro had gotten to “five,” Akira began working on
himself, full of fear and arousal as his slicked fingers moved in and out of
himself desperately.
                At “ten,” Akira didn’t even need the instruction to remove his
digits; he did so knowing it would be expected, wiping them in a rush on the
carpet to his side before looking up at the brown-haired boy who seemed pleased
at his compliance, giving a soft smirk and a hand in his black curls in a
gesture that was almost affectionate. In a smooth, low voice, Goro whispered,
“Good…”
                The hand left Akira’s head to smooth along his thigh, sending a
sudden thrill of sensation through his body. The delicate moment was shattered
moments later, however, when Goro quickly grabbed up Akira’s thighs, pressing
deeply enough into the skin to leave bruises, to bring his legs up to rest on
his shoulders. Wordlessly, Goro guided his dick to Akira’s entrance, looking at
those gray eyes intently as he gradually sank inside of him. It was at that
moment that Goro finally allowed some show of emotion, sighing with relief and
contentment as he felt his dick encased by the tight warmth, letting his
fingers stray to interlock with his lover’s.
                “Yes,”the black-haired boy rasped, squeezing at the hand that
had just touched his. The stretch of him and the sudden fullness were both
welcome, yet overwhelming. Akira felt his eyes go wide as Goro went deeper into
him than he anticipated, causing him to curl his toes anxiously, coupled with a
small gasp. He looked at Goro and marveled: his eyes were unfocused and hazy,
struggling to keep still inside of him as if trying to savor the pleasure.
Finally, the sienna-eyed boy let his eyelids drop entirely, leaving his mouth
slightly agape.
                “You feel so good,” Goro whispered as he slowly withdrew to
thrust back in deeper, settling into a pattern: a torturously slow withdrawal,
followed by a brisk stab. The youth with the black curls felt a jolt of
pleasure with each sharp thrust, magnified by the pain that shot through him as
Goro pinned his arms to the floor, reigniting the old bruises. While Akira
didn’t think he could feel more delirious, the sensation of finally being
fuckedmanaged to plunge him deeper into his trancelike haze. He closed his eyes
and exhaled a throaty groan, all too happy to let his lover do whatever he
pleased.
                 Gradually, the staccato rhythm changed to something steadier,
with the brown-haired boy finding the pace he preferred: faster and rougher,
occasionally snapping his hips and pushing in deeply with a feral grunt to make
the one beneath him clench and whine. He dug his fingers deeper into Akira’s
wrists, pressing down into the paler youth with the palms of his hands.
Finally, Akira had hit a breaking point – he abruptly screamedin pain, raising
his own hips to use and offset some of the energy with a jolt. Goro removed his
hands from Akira’s arms with a pleased hum, hearing an unreserved laughfrom
beneath him.
                He smirked as he looked down at Akira, all but a heaving,
intoxicated wreck, and knew exactly what he was going to do with him. He slowly
withdrew nearly completely from Akira and gave him a firm slap across the face,
directing him to look up into those same fire-filled, crazed, lustful eyes.
                “Breathe,” he directed.
                Akira took a deep gulp of air before the familiar sensation of
drowning in helplessness overtook him. Goro thrusted roughly into him, certain
he would leave bruises on the backs of Akira’s legs with the sheer force of it,
still holding his paramour’s nose and covering his mouth as his movements
became less precise and more animalistic. Goro found himself losing more
control than he wanted as he felt the body beneath him writhe, but it was when
he felt determined fingers scratch down his bare back that he finally lost it,
stilling himself as he felt his cock twitch while it filled his partner with
streams of cum.
                Quickly, Goro removed his hands from Akira’s face, watching him
tremble, obviously overwhelmed. As the black-haired boy tried to process the
elation of breathing with the strange sensation of being filled with his
lover’s fluids, Goro stroked at his dick intently, certain he was on the
precipice of coming. Sure enough, the pale boy gasped and keened softly as he
spilled himself unceremoniously onto his own stomach. Before the sense of
complete relief could take over, Akira found himself subjected to another
sensation: a tongue, licking stripes onto his stomach, greedily lapping up his
seed with messy lips, followed quickly by a hungry, passionate kiss on the
lips. He kissed back sloppily, tasting himself in the mix of salt, rust, and
spit he swallowed back between the noisy, searing smacking of their lips.
                Goro rested his head on Akira’s chest, ear directly to his
heart, and let his body finally go slack atop his lover, both of them sweaty
and utterly spent.
                         *             *             *
                The brunette awoke later, uncertain how much time had passed –
and still not entirely sure whathe had done. The impressions of images and
memories of the feelings of power and ecstasy were there in his mind,
certainly, but the actual actions were lost to him, gone like the high he had
induced on himself. As his eyes refocused, he could see hideousbrown bruises on
the familiar ivory skin in his vision. Hurriedly, he rose to look at the full
picture: dark, almost bloodymarks on Akira’s forearms and wrists, scrape marks
from fingers on his thighs that were sure to bruise as well, and a faint
trickle of liquid beneath his reddened ass. Mortified, Goro turned his
attention to Akira’s upper body again, noting carpet burns along the parts of
his back he was able to see without disturbing his rest. The missing bits of
hair were what horrified him the most, hammering home that whatever he did was
downright brutal.Softly, he took a hand to move Akira’s head from resting on
its cheek to examine it, fearful he had done even more damage. “Oh my god,” he
whispered, “are you –”
                What he saw instead was his sleepy, dazed boyfriend, wearing a
soft smile that denoted pure bliss.
***** Chapter 4 *****
                Kurusu Akira roused from his slumber not from a hand to the
face, but a shiver that originated from on top of him. Slowly, he managed to
open his eyes, still feeling slightly out of his own body. A mess of sweaty,
cinnamon-toned hair caught his eye first, firmly resting on his chest. A hand
was anemically gripping at his fingers as if trying to hold on for dear life or
sanity, trembling with no sense of rhythm or pattern; the other hand was
resting in the crook of his neck, as if its owner had tried to touch his face
before succumbing to some unknown force. Sure, Akira knew he was beat up, but
something about Goro’s composure told him he was in need of attention quickly.
                The paler boy managed to lift his arm despite the searing,
throbbing pain in it to pull the blanket off of the bed, bringing a pillow with
it.  He winced as he slowly rose to place it under his head, careful not to
wake the person on top of him. Goro forfeited a choked sob unconsciously, still
shaking and weakly grabbing at Akira for support. It was something Akira had
never seen before – and it worried him. His hands smoothed along Goro’s bare
back, rubbing at his sides gently. Akira whispered his name, breathing it
delicately as if it were something sacred: “Goro? Are you awake?”
                A low hum from tightly-pressed lips responded.
                “Hey…I’m here,” Akira whispered, draping an arm around his
shoulders, careful not to press too much on the forearm. “I’m here…”
                “Are…you alright?” asked Goro in a weak, tiny voice, shivering
again. “You looked—”
                “Shh,” Akira replied, running a hand through his hair
affectionately. “Are you okay?”
                Goro’s eyes seemed unfocused, incapable of concentrating on one
spot as he looked up from resting on his lover’s chest. His eyes closed again
as he drew in another uneven breath, hazily placing his hands on Akira’s
shoulders.
                “Goro,” Akira started, trying to keep him in the moment, “can
you still hear me?”
                The brown-haired boy shook once more. Akira instinctively
pulled him closer, finally bringing the blanket up to them both. The aggression
and sadistic malice seemed to have drained from him; in this state, he seemed
timid and fragile.
                “Y-yeah,” he explained in a scratchy voice. “This…doesn’t
normally happen like this.”
                “What do you mean?”
                “I…really wore myself out,” he replied with a soft laugh before
shivering again.
                “And the shaking?”
                “Minor crash….normal,” he responded assuredly, “but this
is…more than it was on the ship, definitely…”
                “You’re sure you’re alright?” Akira questioned with a pang of
guilt bleeding into his voice.
                “Mhm. Just…stay with me until it’s over. You were too much fun,
I guess,” he continued, voice returning to something stronger and closer to
normal. “How are you? I tried to check on you before it…all caught up with me…”
                “Fantastic,”he exhaled.
                “What exactlydid I do to you?” he asked, voice curious and
cautious.
                “What didn’tyou do to me?” Akira responded playfully.
                “Did you have to…stop me?”
                “Didn’t need to, didn’t really want to.” A small, unbidden
smile formed on his lips.
                “Good.” He sighed with relief, a weight seemingly lifted from
his shoulders. “Will you be okay for a few more minutes? You…look pretty bad.”
                “It doesn’t feel as bad as it look—”
                Even in his exhausted state, Goro would have none of it. “It
doesn’t feelbad because you’re still strung out.It’s going to hurt like hell
unless I take care of you soon.”
                Akira was still more worried about the youth resting with him.
“I’ll be fin—”
                “No,”Goro snapped back, edge to his voice returning. “This was
part of the agreement.”
                The curly-haired boy sighed, shaking his head with resignation
and a laugh. Goro was always the more cautious of the two of them, after all.
                         *             *             *
                “At least the friction burns aren’t that bad,” Goro noted as he
slowly applied ointment to Akira’s back, careful not to press too hard into the
sensitive skin. “The gauze is coming next, okay?”
                Akira hummed in acknowledgment at the boy behind him very
patiently and precisely worked. As loath as the paler boy was to admit it, Goro
was right: sure enough, the pain became overwhelmingly apparent about 10
minutes after he sworeit was bearable.  Goro’s decision to move back up to the
bed after grabbing the needed materials was one that Akira certainly
appreciated. “In case you were wondering,” he explained to his unaware partner,
“the burns are from you dragging me on the carpet —”
                “Oh,” he interrupted with a little shame in his voice.
                Akira finished his thought flatly: “one-handed. You nearly tore
my leg from the socket.”
                “And you didn’t stopme?”
                “Wasn’t interested. It was fun.”
                Goro couldn’t help but laugh; the sound was music to Akira’s
ears. “You are something else. By the way, how are the bruises doing?”
                “Holding the cold compress to one and somehow balancing a
compress on the other,” Akira replied with a sharp intonation, “same as when
you asked five minutes ago.”
                “You know, I could really do without your talking,” Goro
retorted playfully as he finished dressing the wounds on Akira’s back.
                “Is thatwhy you held my mouth shut?” Akira asked pointedly.
                “That depends – were you being arrogant and insufferable?” he
taunted.
                “Not sure. I was kind of gone.”
                “I’ll take that a yes,” he replied, moving quickly from behind
Akira to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
                “So,” Akira started as he turned slightly to look up at Goro,
“how are youfeeling?”
                He paused to think, searching for the right words. They came
slowly, heavy with intent: “Better.”
                Akira momentarily put the compresses down to turn and face the
brown-eyed boy. “Was it fun?”
                That feeling was abundantly clear in his memory.
“Definitely.And you’re…okay? Not mad?”
                He flashed a bright, sincere smile. “Does this look mad to
you?”
                “Okay, okay…”
                “I told you: I want you. That means the rough stuff, too. I
don’t want perfect.”
                “Fine,” he said with a smile in his voice.  For the first time
in his life, Akechi Goro felt like those words might actually be true.
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