Work Text:
Akira wakes up to the sound of his husband’s work alarm in the morning. Ironically, he’s the only one that wakes up to it. Said husband remains stubbornly in bed, buried almost entirely under the covers next to him. The slight furrow of his brow is the only sign that his sleep is disturbed; his eyes remain resolutely closed.
Akira doesn’t blame him. He never used to be a morning person either. Something about that changed once they got married. Maybe knowing that he gets to wake up to Goro every day makes him look forward to mornings, now.
Goro would definitely call him corny if he heard him say that aloud.
With a soft kiss to a mostly-asleep Goro’s temple, Akira gets out of bed and heads into the kitchen to make breakfast.
No matter the time of day, he loves cooking, but he doesn’t quite have the time in the morning to make his dishes as extravagant as he might for dinner. Goro isn’t usually very hungry in the morning, anyway, so he tries to make something light that still includes important food groups. Today he settles for a simple spread of rice, natto, and vegetables. And, of course, a fresh blend of coffee, made from Leblanc’s coffee beans.
By the time breakfast is done and Akira has eaten his own portion, Goro still hasn’t made his appearance.
Shaking his head with exasperated fondness, Akira makes his way back into their bedroom. The lump under the covers hasn’t moved from where he left it nearly a half hour ago.
He leans over Goro, where just his head is poking out from under the blankets, and brushes his hair back.
Goro makes a sleepy noise as he leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead.
“Time to get up, honey,” Akira whispers.
Goro grumbles, his eyes opening in slivers to glare at him wordlessly.
Akira fights back a grin at the sight of him. It never fails to be endlessly endearing to him, how much Goro hates mornings.
After a few moments when he still doesn’t move, though, Akira wonders if he might have to carry Goro out to the kitchen. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Luckily, it doesn’t come to that today, and Goro reluctantly pulls himself out of bed, yawning as he shuffles sleepily out into the kitchen.
Akira follows him, taking in his husband’s disheveled state. There aren’t many people that could ever say they’ve seen former Detective Prince Goro Akechi with his hair sticking up wildly in different directions, his eyes darkened and heavy-lidded with sleep, lines on his face from where his skin pressed into the pillow all night.
In fact, Akira is certain he is the only person who has ever had (and hopefully ever will have) the privilege of seeing such an adorable sight.
The thought causes his lips to quirk up as he works on packing Goro’s lunch for the day. Goro sits across from him, quietly and slowly eating his meal.
“You should get ready,” Akira prompts, when he looks mostly finished. He glances at the clock on the wall. “Unless you want to be late for work.”
Goro grunts, running a hand through his unruly bedhead, patting it down. He’s finally starting to wake up now, as he drinks his coffee. “I’m going,” he says with a sigh, hauling himself up.
Instead of leaving immediately, he brings his plate into the kitchen, setting it on the counter and leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Akira’s cheek. “Thanks for breakfast.”
Akira can’t help it if his heart skips a beat, or if he nearly drops the food he’s holding. His face feels warm as he watches Goro retreat into the bedroom. So what if they’ve been together for years—is it so strange that he still reacts like a schoolgirl with a crush when Goro does something that cute?
Maybe. He knows his friends would certainly make fun of him. Goro, too, if he was awake enough to notice.
Akira finishes putting together the lunch bento just in time for Goro to reemerge fully dressed, decidedly more alert and awake now that the caffeine has kicked in.
Akira hands him his lunch. “Have a good day, honey.”
And, with a kiss goodbye, he sends him on his way.
Thus begins the less fun part of his day, the Goro-less hours.
First he does the dishes, cleaning up the kitchen and table, wiping down the counters and coffee equipment—which Goro makes fun of him for, even though he’s turned into a complete “coffee snob” as well at this point. Once that’s done, it turns into cleaning the other rooms of the apartment as well—it’s not quite a deep cleaning, but he always makes it a point to straighten up, make sure everything is tidy. Do some dusting, clean the floors, and scrub or wipe down with disinfectant where he finds something that needs it.
Ever since his time in Leblanc’s attic, when he spent entire days making the room somewhat hospitable, Akira gained a surprising appreciation for cleaning. It’s something that he likes to do; it’s relaxing, in a way. There’s something nice about the calm meditative state of mindless manual labor.
As he cleans, he makes a note of what they need to do or buy for the apartment. Another habit from his high school days, which he gained and practiced often as the leader of the Phantom Thieves—running constant mental checklists of what supplies needed to be procured, what the strategy was going to be going forward.
Next he tends to his plants. He has a few indoor plants, as well as a few he keeps on the balcony. A few waterings, adding some fertilizer. There’s one he needs to repot, as well. He turns on some jazz music as he works, both for his own benefit and the plants. Goro says he’s ridiculous, but he swears it helps them grow better.
By the time he’s done all of that, it’s lunch time, and he’s surprised by how much time has passed. He makes himself a quick lunch—leftover curry from the night before—and checks his phone for the first time in a while while he eats. Scrolling aimlessly through social media, he finds a few funny memes and sends them to Goro.
After lunch, he goes out to run some errands. Namely, stopping at a few stores and markets to buy some supplies that they’re running low on. Whenever he has a little bit of time, he likes to go deal-hunting; there’s no sense in spending more money than necessary.
There’s a sale on sheet masks at the convenience store. He grabs a few, knowing Goro’s penchant for skin care products. It’s a funny interest of his, a holdover from his Detective Prince days when he swore he needed to work overtime to cover the eye-bags and lines on his face, to present a fresh-faced image to the public. Now there’s no need for that—so Akira can only imagine Goro genuinely enjoys it, like a little treat for himself.
He comes home, puts the groceries and other supplies away, then throws some laundry in the wash. While he waits for the cycle to finish, he turns the TV on, flopping down on the couch and checking his phone again.
Goro reacted to his memes with a thumbs up, then wrote, These are so stupid.
Akira grins. I know you love them, he types back. Because even if Goro’s sense of humor may be a bit more refined than deep-fried internet memes, he knows he appreciates any kind of reprieve during the work day, regardless.
Sadly, Goro doesn’t respond again, so Akira guesses he’s probably pretty busy today. He checks his group chat with his friends, but there’s not much new there, either. He doesn’t have plans with any of them today, or plans with anyone else for that matter. And he’s done all the chores he can for now. So he has some free time.
It’s weird, being alone in the apartment with nothing strictly “productive” to do. Akira has never been a big talker or one for huge social gatherings, but having another presence there with him is still nice. Even when he was living in Leblanc, he always had Morgana around with him.
It’s understandable, though, why Morgana doesn’t want to live with him anymore now that he’s with Goro. Even before they were married or living together, the poor cat witnessed and overheard some things that Akira knows he wishes would be scrubbed from his memory forever.
Akira passes the next few hours trying to distract himself from the fact that he misses his husband desperately. Watching some TV, reading, going on his phone, switching loads of laundry around intermittently. There are certain hobbies he has, like playing video games, that he’d much rather hold off on until Goro gets home—it’s infinitely more fun to play video games with him, especially with how competitive and passionate he gets during co-op games.
After a little while of scrolling social media, he gets up to start making dinner. He always likes to ensure that it’s ready, or close to ready, by the time Goro gets home from work.
Perfect timing: he’s just finishing up when the door opens.
“Welcome home. How was your day?”
There’s a scowl on Goro’s face when he walks in the door, but he isn’t remiss in returning Akira’s welcome-home kiss before shrugging off his coat and hanging it up.
“Long,” he responds, toeing his shoes off and padding to the kitchen. “Stressful. Yours?”
“It was fine,” Akira says, following him to where he’s just finished plating their food onto the table. He wants to grab him and kiss him again, but he knows they should eat first. “I missed you.”
Goro lets out a noise like a laugh as he sinks into his chair. “You know I’d much rather be home with you than with those idiots. Can you believe this client…..”
Akira listens diligently and lovingly as he serves dinner and they eat. Even when things are stressful at work, he’s glad that Goro is able to vent to him. Even if some of the finer details might be lost on him, he hopes just listening helps.
“…and then he says, ‘I don’t pay you so that I have to read,’ do I really have to listen to this bullshit? Just open up your fucking email, I can’t think for you…”
And Goro really is adorable when he’s complaining about other people.
“…and I wanted to say, you’re the reason shampoo has instructions…”
Not that he likes Goro being frustrated all the time. Just that when he is, it’s cute—like everything else he does.
“You can quit your job, if you hate it,” Akira suggests.
Goro snorts. “Yes, and then we’d be broke.”
“I can get a job.”
“And put me on cooking duty? We both know that’s a health hazard, Akira.”
“I’d still cook,” Akira says quickly, partly because he thinks Goro shouldn’t have to lift a finger, and partly because Goro in the kitchen really would be a health hazard—or at the very least, a fire hazard.
“So you’d work all day and then come home and cook dinner?” Goro raises his eyebrows.
Akira shrugs. “If you wanted me to.”
Goro shakes his head, scoffing, but he can’t quite hide the fondness in his expression. “You are so ridiculous.”
As soon as their plates are clear, Goro stands and grabs them, taking them over to the sink.
“What are you doing?” Akira asks.
“Washing the dishes?”
Akira frowns. “You don’t have to do that. You worked all day.”
“So did you,” Goro replies. “You cooked and cleaned and did the laundry and went shopping, don’t think I don’t notice all of these things.”
Akira shakes his head. “I still had more free time than you did. I didn’t have plans today, I actually got to relax for a couple of hours.”
Goro pauses, setting down the plate with some hesitation. “Still. I feel like I never do anything around the house. At least let me wash the dishes.” His mouth quirks up into a sardonic smile. “Can’t have you resenting me for not pulling my weight.”
Akira lets out a deep-chested laugh. “Honey, after everything we’ve been through, you think I’d resent you for not doing the dishes?”
He watches Goro’s mouth twitch into a wider smile, despite himself. “I suppose you’re right,” he mutters, conceding. “If shooting you in the head didn’t do it, nothing will.”
They end up compromising, anyway; Akira washes the dishes while Goro dries them and puts them away. Even though he would never insist that Goro had to do any housework, Akira actually likes it, having Goro’s company.
Afterward, he draws a bath. Goro is obviously tense and uncomfortable from his long day at work, and there’s nothing Akira likes more than taking care of him.
Goro makes a small noise of contentment as he sinks into the hot water, and Akira is reminded of that day, years ago, when they went to the bathhouse together for the first time. Goro had made a cute little noise there, too, when they first got in—and Akira remembers it vividly because he remembers how hard he had to distract himself to make sure he didn’t pop a boner.
And no one should blame him. That was his first time seeing Goro naked, after all.
Luckily for him, it certainly wasn’t the last.
“That feels nice,” Goro sighs, moving to give Akira room to enter the tub as well.
Akira steps in behind Goro, appreciating the smell of the medicinal bath salts he added to the water. He pulls himself closer, hands on Goro’s shoulders. “Let me give you a massage.”
“Hm?” Goro’s eyes, which had been starting to droop, blink open. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” Akira insists. He can’t believe Goro doesn’t know this by now. “You know I’m great at them.”
“Yes, because you were taught by your homeroom teacher—you really did have some bizarre relationships back when you were a Phantom Thief—ah…”
Goro trails off with a pleased sigh as Akira begins rubbing his tense shoulder muscles. There is a lot of tension there, despite semi-frequent massages. It’s not surprising; after so many years, Goro’s body still doesn’t seem to know how to relax.
Luckily, with Akira around, he’s getting used to it.
The more Goro relaxes against him, the more he lets his hands wander. Down his shoulders, back, arms, around his front—it’s almost absent, the way he maps the lines and curves of his body, silently worshiping him as he works the stress and tension out of his muscles. (And if he subtly gropes his ass while he’s at it, well, Goro doesn’t seem to hold it against him.)
He’s unsurprised when he finally reaches his cock and finds it hard. But the discovery does cause a pleasant flutter in Akira’s belly.
Abruptly, Akira hooks his arms under Goro and stands up, Goro letting out a yelp of surprise as he carries him out of the bathroom, toward their bedroom.
“What are you doing?” he huffs, squirming. “At least warn me when you’re going to do something like that—”
“Sorry.” Akira lays Goro down on the bed, utterly unrepentant and ignoring the water soaking into the sheets below.
It’s impossible to truly be sorry when he has his husband underneath him, naked with rivets of water running along his body, his chestnut hair fanning out on the sheets, looking up at him with pink cheeks and parted lips.
“It’s easier for me to touch all of you this way,” he explains, leaning over Goro, his hands roaming down his bare wet body.
Goro shivers under his touch as he feels his muscles, now relaxed and pliable. He’s happy he was able to achieve that, when Goro was so wound up before.
“Just lay back and relax. Let me take care of you.”
He follows the trails his hands make with his mouth, kissing everywhere he can reach. Heated skin, still hot from the bath, against his lips. He can taste the lavender of the bath salts. It reminds him of the sheet masks he bought Goro; he’ll have to tell him about those later.
Goro squirms impatiently underneath him. “Stop teasing.”
Akira laughs. “I’m just appreciating you.”
He emphasizes this by reaching under one of Goro’s legs and squeezing his ass.
Appreciating Goro is, by far, his favorite thing to do. He knows Goro thinks it’s over the top. But he also can’t exactly complain, because who would complain about getting to feel good?
But if Goro wants him to hurry up…
He gently coaxes Goro’s thighs apart, settling in between them. The milky white skin is just begging to be marked up—but he knows Goro’s had enough teasing for now. He wraps a hand around Goro’s erection, noting the jolt that goes through the body beneath him as he does.
He licks his lips as he rubs his thumb over the head. “Can I suck you off?” he asks, his tone almost pleading, looking up at Goro from under his lashes.
Goro, whose eyes had fluttered closed, blinks his eyes open. As he meets Akira’s gaze, a pretty flush makes its way onto his face. “Somehow you manage to make that seem like I'm doing you a favor.”
Akira huffs out a soft breath of laughter. “You are.” He presses a kiss to the tip of his cock, nuzzling his face against it, breathing in Goro’s scent. Like this, he can catch some of Goro’s natural musk peeking through the smell of the bath salts, and it’s intoxicating. “Love doing this for you.”
Goro shudders, letting out a soft noise. His hands reach down, fingers curling in Akira’s hair, tightening.
Akira knows it’s a silent command for him to hurry up, but he can’t resist teasing just a bit more—parting his lips around the head, he covers the tip with open-mouthed kisses and strokes of his tongue against the slit.
Goro’s reaction is worth it, a groan of “Fuck” escaping his lips as he throws his head back against the bed, his eyes screwing shut once again. “Please,” he says, but it sounds more like a demand than a plea.
Satisfied, Akira finally takes him entirely into his mouth. He sinks down until his nose brushes against the top of Goro’s groin, flattening his tongue to work against the base.
He’s graced with another beautiful noise from Goro, who tugs on Akira’s hair as he grinds his hips into his mouth, eager for more.
Akira is more than happy to let him do what he wishes, and relaxes his throat to let Goro push further inside. His gaze is heavy-lidded and watery as he looks up at Goro, moving his move off, licking up the base of his shaft and flicking his tongue along the tip teasingly before he sinks back down again.
He repeats the movement, watching Goro come apart underneath him. No, not apart—not like he’s breaking. Like he’s settling, like a taut rubber band releasing its tension.
There’s an undercurrent of lewdness to the act, but somehow the moment is mostly soft, sensual. Goro is relaxed and pliant and he feels good, and Akira just wants to make him feel as good as possible.
When the tang of precum hits his tongue, Akira laps it up greedily. He hums, sending vibrations along Goro’s cock, tracing his tongue along the underside of his shaft, teasing the frenulum.
“I’m close…” He feels the tightening of muscles underneath him, the way Goro’s breath starts to come quicker.
With some difficulty, Akira pulls back.
Goro’s features pinch into an adorable frown. “What… Why did you stop?”
He sounds utterly dazed and confused, and Akira can’t blame him, especially since it’s rare that he’s ever denied anything.
“Turn around,” Akira says, by way of explanation.
Goro does, and it’s a testament to Akira’s skills that he obeys without a word, getting on his hands and knees on the bed.
Akira palms his ass, admiring the soft skin beneath his hands for a moment. He spreads them, taking a moment to admire the perfectly puckered entrance in between them.
So perfect. He leans forward, planting a kiss against his hole, which twitches against his lips.
“A-Ah…”
He starts with small, teasing licks, and Goro sighs, rocking back into him. The noise turns into a moan as Akira swirls his tongue, worshiping his hole with wet kisses and strokes of his tongue.
He pushes Goro’s cheeks further apart with his hands so that he can reach deeper, dipping his tongue inside of the tight ring of muscle. He almost can’t breathe, but he has no complaints; being smothered by Goro’s ass would, in fact, be his preferred way to die.
And the desperate, keening noises Goro makes are divine. He’s so close again already, an observation that is only confirmed when Akira feels him reach down to grasp his own erection, stroking it desperately.
He’s saying something, too, quick muttered babbling that Akira almost can’t make out.
“Akira… I’m gonna come…”
At that, he pulls away briefly to murmur against his hole, his voice pitched deep with lust. “Then be a good boy and come.”
Then he presses back forward, working his tongue in and out in a quick rhythm, lapping at Goro’s hole like it’s his last meal on Earth.
Goro comes with a full-body shudder and a cry that goes right to Akira’s own neglected cock. He works him through it, only pulling back once Goro fully settled down, his body slumping bonelessly against the bed.
He looks totally wrecked, but Akira still wants to keep making him feel good. He’s utterly heedless of his own rock-hard erection, focused only on lavishing attention on Goro.
There’s still somewhere he hasn’t massaged Goro, after all.
Gently, he flips him back over. Goro is flushed and panting, and his eyes are half-lidded, dazed and almost sleepy.
Akira fumbles for the lube in the bedside table, almost dropping it in his eagerness. He doesn’t miss the way Goro’s lip quirks at that, like he’d laugh at him if he wasn’t feeling so blissed out.
After slicking up his fingers, he presses them into Goro, quickly adding one after another—the physical relaxation from his orgasm undoubtedly having loosened him up.
With years of practice under his belt, he quickly finds Goro’s prostate, massaging it gently with his fingers. He’s so pliant underneath him, his body soft and opened up, little gasps spilling shamelessly from his lips.
“Does that feel good, baby?” Akira coaxes.
Goro whines. “Fuck me,” he begs, letting his legs fall open more.
Akira, who was only planning on fucking Goro with his fingers until he came again, nevertheless cannot say no to such a request.
He pulls his fingers out and lines himself up, sinking in slowly.
The sheer physical pleasure of being inside of Goro is certainly not lost on him, but he can’t help it if his attention is instead riveted to Goro, watching his husband’s pleasure play out in front of him. As though his own is merely an added bonus.
He begins to move, keeping his pace slow and sensual as he thrusts in and out. He knows it usually drives Goro crazy with impatience, but being joined with him like this always brings out the romantic in him. His chest swells with affection as he draws them closer, gathering Goro in his arms.
“My darling, my love.” He presses a kiss to Goro’s hair, reverent. “My wish.”
Goro always blushes the prettiest shade of red whenever he calls him that one.
He nearly sobs when he comes again, Akira murmuring gentle words in his ear, coaxing him through it as he shudders on his cock.
Akira comes immediately after, unable to hold himself back a moment longer. For all his treating his own pleasure like an afterthought, his orgasm hits him like a truck, his vision whiting out as he shudders and grips onto Goro through the aftershocks.
Afterward, Goro looks well and truly exhausted, slumped next to him on the bed. Akira retrieves a warm damp towel to clean them both up; when he’s finished, he gets back into bed and wraps his arms around Goro, pulling him close and kissing him again.
“You did so well for me. You know how much I love you, don’t you?”
Goro laughs, his voice hoarse. “You make it impossible to doubt you. When you act the way you do.”
Akira is glad for that, because he knows Goro has never had that before. And that it would be so easy for Goro to doubt someone loving him.
Goro kisses him, his hand cupping Akira’s cheek delicately, like he’s something precious. Akira’s breath catches, and he knows, pressed together like this, Goro can feel his heart flutter.
“I love you too,” Goro whispers against his lips.
He knows, sometimes, that Goro worries his own feelings don’t come across in the same way. But he’s never once doubted him; Goro shows him, every day, in his own way, how much he cares.
And in any case, he’s proud of himself, that he’s tired out Goro so much he doesn’t have the energy for any of those doubts currently.
Completely spent, Goro drifts off not long after, enveloped in Akira’s arms.
Akira watches him, his own eyes heavy with sleep, but unable to resist drinking him in. Unable to stop worshiping him, even with his gaze.
He looks so content and comfortable and soft, and Akira’s chest swells again, so immensely grateful that he gets to see Goro this way, and love him, and be loved by him.
He can’t imagine a better way to spend his days, for the rest of his life.