Bathroom Conversations

3/15

Two weeks before moving to Tokyo

“Mum, who is this ‘Sojiro Sakura’ who has decided to take me in for a year? Is he okay?”

She worked pretty long hours, his mum, and chatting with her in the mornings while she got ready had kind of become their ritual.

Not for much longer, though.

Because in just two weeks, he had to board the Shinkansen to start his journey to the big city. No bathroom chats anymore.

He would miss them. A lot.

He’d gotten the news a few days earlier —
that he was supposed to move to Tokyo in two weeks and live with someone whose name he had never even heard of before.

His mother had just finished applying her lipstick. Now she was busy smacking her lips together — muah muah muah — while admiring her handiwork in the mirror.

Too occupied to answer the concerned inquiries of her son, apparently.

Okay, let’s try again. “Are you sure he isn’t, like, I’m not sure, secretly into grooming teenage boys? This whole thing sounds kinda shady.”

“You are not making any sense, honey. It sounds like a perfectly normal thing to do, in my book.” Oh, so she heard me after all.

“What part of it exactly? That you think is completely normal, I mean? Grooming teenage boys like your son?”

Does she even know what grooming means?

Maybe she didn’t, because she seemed completely unbothered while laughing off his question.

The same laugh she had used when she got called to the principal’s office on a bi-weekly schedule, when he was still attending primary school, because of some mischief he had been up to.

The “I don’t know what’s wrong with him either, Principal. His big sister turned out completely fine.” kind of laugh.

Not my fault, though.
Ok, maybe sometimes.

Trouble and him?
Kind of like chewing gum and shoe soles.

Impossible to remove once he’d stepped into it.

In two weeks, he would need to find a way to get it off, though.
Once and for all.

While living with a complete stranger.
Who was probably into grooming teenage boys.

While laying low for a year.
As the new student with a criminal record.

…Everything to make sure nothing would come between him and the successful completion of his one year probation period.

Also: no bathroom conversations anymore.
Where’s the fast-forward button so I can get this over with?

“Honeybee, did you even listen?”

Whoops. “Sorry. What did you say?”

“I think he sounds like a really kind man, is what I said.”

“So that means you have spoken to him already?” Now that’s a relief.

“Well, not personally”, she admitted, batting her eyelashes while applying mascara. “But I can tell. I am sure there are no ulterior motives involved.”

Or not. “Uh-huh.”

He decided to try and press his point. “Would you take in a teenage boy without having spoken to him first, to live with us for a year, on the account of an advertisement dad put on Facebook marketplace?”

She focused on his reflection in the mirror, with a scolding look on her face that made her eyebrows move very close together.
”No, my little sugar pea. But that’s only because your dad and I are going to be gone in two weeks, you know, on vacation.”

“For a year”, she added. “We talked about this.”

About the general fact, yeah. Not where you’re going. And not why you’ll be gone for a whole year.

Also, don’t think I didn’t notice you sidetracking the marketplace aspect of my question.

He had suspected it already.

Ever since his father got rid of most of the stuff that had been standing in their garage for the entirety of Akira’s living memory, he had developed an unhealthy obsession with that platform.

Unlike his mother, who was more concerned about her son not having received a haircut for almost six months — a fact she reminded him of daily while trying to sort out his messy fringes.

Like she wanted to right now, approaching her son sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

“Mom!” He swatted her hand away. “Stop it. This is how it’s supposed to look like. Get it into your brain.”

She paused for a second. “Well. I guess that questionable decisions are part of being a teenager.”

Then, she shook her head.
A ploy to lull him into a false sense of security.
Because next thing he knew he tried to shield himself from her lips which wanted to make contact with his cheek. And failed.

Right there where his hair didn’t obscure his face. Yet.

“My little baby boy, all grown up already, moving to the big city. I am so excited for you! This is going to be the best year of your life, I am sure of it.”

She made it sound like she sent him to summer camp, instead of the house of some random person in a city five hours away.

Are we even living in the same reality?
He admired his mother for her lightheartedness. Really did. It was just that sometimes she took it a few steps too far.

“Now come on, grab your bag and let’s go. Or you’re gonna be late, and I had my fair share of principal office talks in this lifetime already. I’m gonna get the keys.” 

Sigh. Classic Momma Kurusu move. Now he had sixty seconds to remove a pink waterproof lipstick stain right in the middle of his face.

11/4

Two weeks before maybe being assassinated

“Whoa! So your parents sold you to Sojiro on Facebook marketplace?” Futaba’s voice sounded positively delighted.

Eight months later — different bathroom, different city — it was him standing in front of the mirror. With him was his little sister, letting her feet dangle while lounging on the closed toilet seat.

So glad we managed to change her heart.

Not only had it fucked up his sleeping cycle, having to go to the gym every morning to take a shower before class — now he was also back to his bathroom chat routine.

Only that the roles were a little bit different. Because Futaba didn’t have to leave the house in the mornings —

“Something like that, yeah. I didn’t manage to extract further information from her.”

— because she was a genius hacker who didn’t go to school.

“Speaking of extracting information.”

There was something on his mind regarding that topic.

“The phone you hacked.” He tried to make his voice sound as neutral as possible.

“Uhm, which one, exactly?” She pushed her glasses back onto her nose.

Come on. You know which one.
Those last weeks, whenever he brought up about a certain detective, the little chaos gremlin — who was very able to fill in the gaps on every other occasion — became suddenly tone-deaf.

“You know the one. The one that belongs to the traitor. The traitor guy, the bad apple of the bunch guy. That one.”

“Ahhhh. That one. What about it?” She gave him a look that made him feel seen through.

He tried his best to keep up a neutral expression. “I think we should start looking into other stuff, too. The first thing the police does when building their case is establishing a full profile of the perpetrator. And so far, I think our profile is very incomplete.”

“What exactly do you think is missing?”

“I am not sure yet. But I am sure that we missed something. But I will only know what exactly that is after I have seen it.”

It was probably a stupid idea. But if he wanted to get this task started today, he would need to be more specific. He had even gotten rid of Morgana to speak with his sister alone today.

The time was now.

“Like, what about his browser history. Any suspicious websites, maybe, that he visited, that may help us figure something out?”

Come on, please. Help me out here a little.

Futaba took a moment to think.
Then, she started cackling just like he did, when he was still in primary school, before he did the things that made the principal call his mom.

“You know, if you want to see his porn, all you do is gotta ask.”

“Cool. Very cool. Porn sounds great.” He’d paused for a moment, trying to appear surprised by her suggestion.

“I mean, like a great starting point. To complete the profile”, he added hastily.

He added it to his list of “Things I owe Futaba Sakura for”.
Already prominently featuring ‘coming up with the tools to save my ass in two weeks’. And all the other stuff.

Mission accomplished. A look on his phone told him he had to run. His hair was still messy, but this was about the best he could manage before running late and having everybody think he was back to being a serial killer again.

“Today after school? I’m gonna be back at around 6.”

His sis gave him a thumbs-up. “Don’t forget to bring snacks.”

Unexpected Discoveries

11/4

A few hours before breaching Akechi's privacy

Could this class be any more boring?

He wanted to get this over with. Learn more about the guy who planned on shooting him.

What made him tick, so to say.
The intricacies of his character.

See if maybe that would help him figure out another counterstrategy to Akechi’s devious scheme.

His masturbation mojo.
His jack-off jam.

Before he could come up with any more alliterations about what he and his sister planned on looking at tonight, the bell announced the end of the lecture.

Now he had to drag his ass to the 777 in Shibuya, because he had promised to help out at the register today.

It’s not like he needed the money, seeing as he had made a small fortune already selling off the things he had stolen in the Metaverse. Or at least the ones he and his teammates didn’t need anymore.

I bet dad would be so jealous, knowing how easy it is to sell all kinds of random stuff to an ex yakuza member here in Tokyo.

Like father, like son. Well, except for the stealing part. Maybe. Who knew. His parents still hadn’t told him why they’d decided to leave the country for a year on the cause of their son’s absence.

After his shift was over, he reinvested his salary immediately into the snacks he had promised earlier this morning.

Better grab something more substantial, too. And drinks.
Who knew, maybe this would turn out to be a long evening, considering the daunting task ahead.

11/4

A few minutes before breaching Akechi's privacy

As soon as he entered his sister’s room, he held the assortment of acquired provisions out to her, worldlessly.

“Damn! You didn’t half-ass your task! I am proud of you, big brother.” She had already started rummaging through the bag, taking out a can of soda.

“Now it’s my time to follow-up. I don’t plan on leaving you hanging.”

But before she did that, she needed to chug down half the can, apparently.

“Does that mean you didn’t have a look yet?”

Futaba shook her head. “No. It would be boring to look at the same stuff twice, right?”

“And also, I don’t really expect us to make some interesting discoveries.” She unlocked her computer — “I mean, he is basically working all the time, right?” — and started doing something.

“I wouldn’t suspect him to have the time to make his way through the big adventure town that is the internet.” Her hand stretched out for some Pocky, taking out a handful and biting into them all at once.

“But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe we will learn something new today.” Monch.

“Maybe the snack selection is a foreboding” — monch — “a sign of the mount of treasure that will await us when we make our way through the detective’s porn stash.”

Eating, hacking and talking at the same time. No limit to your
abilities, huh?

“An omen”, she continued. “A prophecy.”

She gave him an approving look. “Maybe we are destined for greatness — because you set us up for it, oh marvelous leader of the Phantom Thieves!”

“What did I do?” As far as he was concerned, he was just sitting here, waiting.

“You provided what was necessary.” She gestured in the general direction of the snack bag, eyes glued to her screen, chewing on crispy chocolate-y biscuit sticks.

Sounds like a pretty mundane task, if you ask me.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re having fun”, he told her. “But maybe let’s dial it down just a little bit?”

“This is a serious matter. We are acquiring intelligence with the task of taking down our target.” He tried to keep her eyes on the ball.
”So I won’t get killed off in some room where the light doesn’t shine. You know?” He threw her a look that was supposed to be one of silent determination.

“Yeah, sure. Convince yourself of the fact that all of this is strictly business.”

She sounded cheerful, with her eyes fixated ahead on her screens, absorbed in her task, fingers moving on the keyboard with otherworldly speed.

“How are we supposed to go about this? Do we want to make bets?” Apparently she was still looking for a possibility to make this whole thing a little bit more exciting. “It could be fun.”

“Like, bets about the stuff he is into?” He’d just treated himself to a bag of potato chips, the ones with a little bit of black pepper — his favorites — and was talking in-between bites now too.

“Exactly. We could make a tier list. Like, I could group the results by general keywords, and we could guess which ones come up the most, and the one whose guess was the most accurate wins a prize, or something!”

Leave it to her to come up with such a proposition.

“I like the idea, but it also sounds like it could take a while, coming up with our lists. How about we just go in with an open mind?”
He kind of felt an urgency to act.

Futaba, however, didn’t sound convinced.
”You’re just afraid to lose. You know my knowledge vastly exceeds yours in the realms we’ll be threading in mere minutes.” 

That statement got him to think.

You know what? Maybe I am.

Afraid.

He didn’t know of what, exactly — but the feeling in his stomach normally didn’t lie.

“You know, this would be pretty weird, checking out the porn stash of our enemy together, if we really were related.”

Tomoko would have probably called the guys in the white coats immediately, if I’d made that suggestion to her.

“I am very glad that Morgana didn’t ask any questions why we wanted to hang out alone.”

Futaba just shrugged. “I think it actually sounds like a very typical prompt for a kink meme or something. A pretty mild one, too.”

“Well, glad you see it that way.” He treated himself to another handful of chips. 

She threw him a glance over her glasses.
”Okay, I’m done. Shall we proceed with our mission?”

Although he’d planned on diving right in and just get this done — in the end, he and Futaba spent quite a while pondering what kind of porn would come up the most.

“Maybe there isn’t anything to discover at all?”

Maybe he channels all the raging-hard-boner-going-at-it-for-three-hours energy of someone our age into hating me instead?

“There is. I’ve got a few megabytes of content in a JSON file. That’s not bad at all with compression and stuff.”

“Maybe he is totally vanilla? Like only looking at pictures of girls in lingerie? Tasteful positions and soft light? Listening to jazz while he does it?”

That would be kind of disappointing.
Not sure if anything less than complete freak is worth my rivalry.

“On second thought — not sure. I can’t imagine him liking girls, somehow.”

“You can’t? Or you don’t want to, because that would be bad news for you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Although I can see him being into twinks. Probably completely shaven and pore-less. Grey eyes? I mean, great cocks? Black hair?
He looks at me funny, sometimes.

In the end, it was something very different.

Needless to say, Futaba was delighted. “I am so glad you bought those snacks. A prophecy indeed.”
Or maybe delight was an understatement. Her eyes were sparkling so brightly he could see their reflection on the computer screen.

Until this moment, he hadn’t heard about Archive Of Our Own, a website where, as Futaba explained to him, normal people post completely unhinged smut about their favorite anime or TV series or video game characters getting railed.

Railed as in “all of their holes are filled up at the same time, preferably by someone they don’t even like, like their enemy, the Yeti, or Santa Claus”.

And it seemed like Akechi did, too. Know about that website.

Not get all his holes fucked at once by his enemy. At least, not yet. 

“He even has an account.” Futaba opened a link in another tab and threw Akira a loaded gaze. “Shall we take a look?”

“Wait a second.”
He was glad he bought those rice balls. A weird intuition told him that this could take a while. With a mouth full of rice, he gave the sign.

“Okay. I’m ready.” 

Futaba looked back at the screen. “Me too.”

Glory Holes (and Karmic Kudos)

“Damn! It seems like he really got it all, doesn’t he?” Futaba stared at the screen in awe.

“What do you mean? Like, the looks, and a lot of time?”

“Yeah. Either a lot of free time or an exorbitant amount of creative energy. Probably a mixture of both.”

The profile that Akira and his sis were looking at had over a hundred works to it’s name.

That would make about… seven writings a day until the deadline? How in the hell am I supposed to do this? He hadn’t even heard of this platform until about five minutes ago.

This was supposed to be enlightening. Not overwhelming. But right now, this all seemed pretty overwhelming. To say the least.

And what they were currently looking at was probably only the fingernail of the tip of the iceberg.

Why doesn’t he just look at videos like most people do?

Because his rival wasn’t most people. No.
He was a celebrity. Persona user. Professional liar. Traitor.
Probable serial killer.

But also, judging from the evidence they were looking at right now.. a writer? Of smutty fanfiction on the internet?

While Akira was still busy contemplating if maybe, he had made a mistake diving into this topic in the first place, Futaba had already started scrolling through the webpage at a leisurely pace, stopping occasionally.

“And he seems to have built quite a fan base, too. Look.”

Her cursor pointed out numbers that didn’t hold any meaning to him. Bookmarks, Kudos, Comments, Hits.

Words that looked like possible answers to the multiple choice questions on his school tests, and he wasn’t sure which one he should pick.

What was the question that he was trying to answer here? How to get head by his enemy, or get ahead on his enemy, who was on a mission to kill him in a few weeks? I’m kind of not sure anymore.

Regardless of what his goal was — it was obvious he would need every possible help in the world now to reach it.

Good thing the Phantom Thieves’ trustworthy navigator was in on this.

“Okay, sis. Please enlighten me. What in the hell are Kudos?”

Futaba adjusted her glasses — preparing herself to give her brother a deep dive into the mechanics of this so called ‘Archive’.

“Kudos is the equivalent to a like. It’s an old word originating from Greek, and means something like ‘Praise’. You read something and you like it, you leave Kudos. All it takes is clicking one button at the end of the chapter section. Doesn’t matter if you have an account or not, because guests can leave Kudos, too.”

Okay, easy enough.

“But… why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’?” Her tone had changed, somehow.

He wasn’t a regular on porn tube sites, but it’d been his impression that people actually engaging with that kind of content were few and far between. If they did, it was either to complain or be weird, not give praise.

He’d always preferred to stick with his own imagination, instead.
Really lean into the feeling… while imagining doing nasty things with his current crush of the month.
Draw it out, if he’d had the time. Get himself really close a few times — to the point of being a sweaty, panting, braindead mess — then come so hard the only things left to want afterwards were a cold shower and a gigantic bowl of Katsudon.

At least that’s how it had been in the past. Since he started sharing his room with a talking cat, his masturbation practice was more like one of a Buddhist monk living in celibacy.

Anyways. The tube sites were reserved for the freaky stuff. Research purposes. To steal some ideas and make them his own. Not to give thumbs-up.

Futaba was still waiting for him to elaborate.

Whoops. Where was I?

“Why do it? Why give Kudos?”

Shit. Now is a bad time to realize that it has been way too long, right? His head was now stuck with the sweet memory of fucking his own brains out for hours in a room that had a key. Shit, my cheeks are getting warm.

A slight feeling of panic. She will know what’s up. I need to say something dumb to distract her, or I will never hear the end of it. “I thought that watching porn has more to do with latin than greek.”

Visible confusion. Okay, that’s good. “The latin proverb, the one by the Caesar guy. Veni vedi veci.”

Still confused. Great. Now commit.

“You open the tab, you jerk off, you cum. Then you go home. Or close the tab. But the last point would have destroyed the satisfying alliteration, so Caesar omitted that little detail for some extra style points.”

“Nothing in there about Kudos. Or likes. So… why?”

“Because these people aren’t in it for the money. Nor taking stuff that belongs to someone else, in order to make more money. They do it for the fun of it. It’s one of the few places on the internet that hasn’t been destroyed by the greed of capitalism, one might argue.”
Futaba gave him a stern look.

Phew. It worked.
But…

Now, she had dropped the big C-word on him, instead.
Now, he felt like a little bit of an asshole.

“Okay. But why isn’t their own fun enough, in that case?” I’m not an asshole. Just a bit slow sometimes.

She pondered on that question for a moment, looking thoughtfully at the screen.

He was starting to get concerned if he had managed to seriously piss her off. Something that had not happened before, ever.

But then she started cackling, and he knew it was all good.

“How about a little thought experiment?”
He wasn’t really in a position to say no. So instead, he let Oracle take his hand and start explaining, so he might listen, and learn.

“Look at his most recent work. 30 hits. 0 Kudos.”

Futaba pointed out the numbers on her screen, with an intensity like they were standing in front of one of those evidence boards with red strings.

Concentrate on the numbers. Blend out any lewd keywords. Keeping his focus was hard enough already, with his earlier flashback.

“Let’s imagine for a second that instead of people opening Akechi’s writing, which would count as a hit, they are actually entering a toilet stall at the Penguin Sniper. And instead of the Penguin Sniper being a pretty normal establishment, let’s assume for a moment that it’s a sex dungeon, and the toilet stall that people are entering has a glory hole inside it.”

Spoken like it’s a completely normal thing to imagine.

“Uh-huh. Got it.”

It wasn’t completely implausible, he had to admit. The place had definitely been giving off some kind of sexual energy the times he’d been there.

“In that case, ‘Akechi publishing filthy porn anonymously on the Internet’ would be the equivalent to ‘Akechi is offering his mouth for free use, aka sucking people off, inside the toilet cabin of the Penguin Sniper.’”

“It is there to be taken advantage of. His mouth, I mean. It doesn’t cost anything. People can freely choose to take him up on the offer, or politely decline.”

Open up wide, Akechi. I want to take advantage of you.

What are you talking about?

About fucking your mouth in a few seconds.

Shit. Why am I so suggestible? Normally he liked his vivid imagination, but now was kind of a bad time. Just ignore it.

“Mhm. Understood. What else?”

“So now imagine thirty people entering the toilet stall, one after the other. We don’t know how many of them actually stuck their dick inside the hole, as in ‘they read his text, instead of just clicking’, because the Archive doesn’t keep track of that. Maybe some of them just wanted to see what the bathroom looks like. Others may have opened the door, taken a look inside, and forgotten why they went there in the first place. Maybe the toilet paper was out, so they entered, but left immediately, the analogy for ‘this writing isn’t for me, so I didn’t finish reading it’.”

That was a long sentence, so Futaba stopped for a moment, giving her brother a chance to take it all in, so to say.

Get away from me.

Joke’s on you.

Could’ve chosen other pants for a fast emergency exit.

But showing off your ass was higher on your priority list, wasn’t it?

!

It goes both ways. Because I can also see that they sit pretty tight in the front by now.

Good thing I am wearing joggers. This situation was getting harder, now.

“Okay. Go on.”

“But imagine it for a second. Thirty people, entering the bathroom stall, and the proficient detective, potentially sucking off every single one of them.”

He did. Imagine. But it was just him and Akechi inside a regular bathroom stall at the Penguin Sniper.

What do you want, Joker?

I know you suck off guys anonymously at the seedy sex dungeon right next to this bar.

What?

Just admit that you would love to suck me off, too.

Non anonymously. Right here and now.

You are completely out of your mind.

Totally. One hundred percent. Much more than you are.

Are you challenging me right now?

What if I am?

Then I would prove you wrong.

What if I tell you there’s only one way to do that?

Then I would make sure I execute it perfectly.

Because I want to be better than you in all aspects.

Well. Okay. You’d start by going on your knees and open up my zipper.

It’s fine. You’re just stressed. He adjusted his position for a second. Breathe.

He could get through this. Had to. His life kind of depended on it.

“Okay. What else?”

“Well, I just explained how the archive only counts how many times people entered the bathroom stall. Of course that doesn’t mean that every one of them spilled their load inside Akechi’s mouth. The world is certainly more complex than that”, she stated. In a matter-of-fact way that didn’t leave any room for arguments.

That’s it?

Not quite. Then you’d show me what’s so special about that mouth that so many people want to fuck it, apparently.

“But for the sake of our analogy, let’s try and oversimplify the matter. Let’s assume that all thirty of them went to the toilet stall. Every single one of them put their dick inside the hole, and they got sucked off so skillfully they couldn’t help but finish inside Akechi’s mouth.”

Just a sneak peek doesn’t count.

I want the whole movie.

You’d have to look into my eyes while I finish in your mouth — and then swallow.

“That would be our analogy for ‘people read your story to the end, and they enjoyed it’ on the archive.”

He tried to clear his throat. Just a minute earlier, he wasn’t even aware that he was into that sort of thing, but apparently…

I haven’t come for quite a while, so it could be a mouthful, to say the least.

But if you’re able to do it, I’ll gladly admit you’re much more insane than I am.

What do you say?

… Challenge accepted.

Detective? More like filthy little slut. Or both. Futaba was right. The world was complex, and multiple things could be true at once.

“Sis. How can you keep a straight face right now?” I am kind of losing my mind right here, and you look completely unfazed. “How are you able to come up with this stuff? Really. It’s mind-boggling to me.”

Akira stared at her in awe.

Futaba just cackled. “I’m autistic and I have ADHD.”

Well. I guess that explains it then.

“Let’s go back to what we were talking about.” She didn’t let herself get side-tracked on her mission of explaining the ways of the Archive to him.

“Akechi sucking dicks in the bathroom stall at the Penguin Sniper”, he added. That was what they were talking about.

“Exactly. He sucked off 30 guys, one after the other. Every single one of them finished inside his mouth.”

“But here’s the catch.” She pointed up her index finger and paused for a second, to really drive home her next point. “Not a single person thanked him for it.”

“To stick with your Caesar aphorism, they shot their loads in his mouth, zipped up their pants, left the stall, and, if your world view is especially pessimistic, they didn’t even wash their hands afterwards.” Her look was one of silent accusation.

“Aren’t there people who are into that kind of thing?”

People were into all kinds of things. The sheer amount of stuff in that Archive was kind of the proof.

“Yuck!” She shot him a look of honest disgust.

“Not the ‘not washing their hands part’. I agree, that should be forbidden by the order of the Constitution. I mean the ‘not receiving a Thank You’ part.”

Now his sis looked like she wanted to offer him a cookie.

“Well, yes. Being into those kinds of things would fall broadly under ‘humiliation kink’, and that is something that you would tag in your story. But we are getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s not just assume that Akechi has a humiliation kink. You really shouldn’t, because you talk to people before you assume - or engage in - possible kinks without their explicit consent. Got it?” She looked at him for confirmation.

He barely managed to swallow the “Yes, senpai” that was already on the tip of his tongue. Very good point to make.

“So, back to our original train of thought.”
His sis was looking hyper-focused now.

Akira gave her a nod. Now that the little scene inside his head had ended, focusing was easier for him, too.

“Not thanking Akechi for sucking me off. Uhm, no, not me. Because I wouldn’t just assume a humiliation kink. I would ask for consent first. I mean the people at the Penguin Sniper.” Don’t get flustered.

“Exactly. No Thank You. Not even a little golden sticker on his tongue or something. How would Akechi feel?”

She gave him a look like she had asked a very easy question, like how many noses a human normally had in their face. Still, he thought on it for a moment.

“Assuming he doesn’t have a humiliation kink? Well, maybe he would start second-guessing himself. Or start feeling underappreciated. Maybe he would stop sucking people off at the Penguin Sniper altogether.”

Poor Akechi. Nobody deserves to be treated like that.
Not even the guy who planned on his future demise.

“Yes. A reasonable assumption to make”, she agreed.

“Anyways, if a person put effort into something that another person enjoyed, it seems reasonable to thank that person for it.”

That’s what we’re doing in real life. That’s how it should be on the Archive as well. … Or other sites where people are putting stuff for free.

“I think I got it. Kudos is the archive equivalent of saying ‘Thanks for letting me nut in your mouth.’”

It felt like a “Heureka!” kind of moment, this realisation he just had.

“Exactly.” Futaba offered him one of her chocolate biscuit sticks. “Kudos to you for figuring it out.”

Wow. Why does this feel so good right now, getting praised like that? Delicious. A lesson he wouldn’t forget so soon.

She used the chance to go back to the other numbers, while he was busy nibbling on his snack.

“A bookmark would be something like ‘I wouldn’t mind doing it again someday.’ And a comment would be like ‘Woah, the thing that you do there with your tongue? Amazing!’ Or whatever other stuff people liked about Akechi’s technique, and want to point out.”

“That’s it. Hits, Kudos, Bookmarks and Comments. The currency of the archive, so to say”, she concluded her explanation.

Not so complicated after all.

Still, there was one question left to ask.

“Okay. So. If you only offer your mouth to random strangers in a toilet stall for the sake of outside validation, then.. why do it at all? Shouldn’t it bring you joy to do so even without their acknowledgment?”

It felt kind of pointless chasing compliments from people you didn’t even know. Everybody liked different stuff, right?

“Well, yeah. If chasing numbers and external acknowledgment becomes your primary motivation, you should definitely start to reflect if that’s really what makes you happy”, she agreed.
”But, let’s be real here for a second: humans will be humans. Even if it’s not the main factor, getting recognized for a job well done feels good. It makes us feel seen.”

Yeah. The sweet taste of chocolate still lingering in his mouth was evidence of that.

Futaba put forth her theory. “So if Akechi is at the Penguin Sniper sucking people off in the toilet stall, and a lot of people say ‘Thank you’ or give him little stickers and comment on his technique, changes are high that he would be more inclined to kneel behind that Glory Hole again, next time he is at the Penguin Sniper.”

“And wouldn’t that be a great thing?” She looked at him for confirmation.

You know what?

Maybe I want more than the whole movie.

Give me the Director’s Cut.

You are insatiable, aren’t you?

There we go again.

“But what if I don’t want to admit to that?”

“Admit to what, exactly?” Futaba threw him an inquisitive look.

“Well, admit publicly, on the internet, that I enjoy getting sucked off by Akechi in a toilet stall at the Penguin Sniper."
"Like, theoretically. Not that I would really be into that”, he added, before his sister would get the wrong idea. So glad for my haircut right now.

“Well, first thing, that’s what nicknames and internet identities are for. Second thing, you could log out and give your thanks anonymously. As I said, guests can leave Kudos, too”, she told him one other time.
”He doesn’t see you behind that compartment wall, you know. You wouldn’t need to admit that Akira Kurusu enjoyed getting sucked off by Akechi Goro in the toilet cabin at the Penguin Sniper”, his little sis explained patiently.

So?

You win this one. You are much more insane than I am.

Is that all you have to say?

It was fantastic. That thing you did with your tongue? Out of this world. The way you looked at me the whole time? Amazing.

Wouldn’t mind doing it again.

He was very happy that he was able to keep in his horny sneeze, at that moment.

“But, also… if you don’t admit to it, who else will? With a fake identity, nonetheless?” Hmm. Good point.

She didn’t stop there. “Admitting openly to the fact that “Joker” loves to get his dick sucked by “Crow” is like fighting for a world where someday, everybody can be proud to admit: ‘Look, my name is Akira Kurusu, and I love getting sucked off by Akechi Goro in a seedy sex dungeon, and I am not ashamed to say so!’” It was just the regular bathroom stall, but still.

She sounded really cheerful at that prospect. She’s right. That really does sound like a better world than the one we’re in, right now.

Futaba stood up and started climbing her chair. Then, she held her fist towards the ceiling. “Isn’t that what we’re fighting for? Being able to follow the justice of our own hearts, without any inhibitions?”

“Isn’t this” — she showed at her monitor with her other hand, the one with Akechi’s one hundred filthy stories on it — “what being a phantom thief is all about?”

Akira did need a moment to collect himself before answering, and tried to keep his mimic as neutral as possible.

“Futaba, you really are wise beyond your years.”

11/4

Very late in the Evening

They had called it quits after that, and promised that they would continue on their task tomorrow.

He had one other thing on his agenda.
The last one for today.

Creating an account didn’t take longer than a minute, less time than brushing his teeth. Before putting his phone away to charge, he opened Akechi’s last story.

“What are you doing?” Morgana was curious.

“Don’t mind me. Just trying to catalyze the carmic cycle.” Akira scrolled down right to the end, and pressed the button his sister had told him all about.

31 hits. 1 Kudos.

Thanks, Crow. For letting me nut in your mouth.

Missing Piece

11/5

The morning after

“So. How was the rest of your evening?” Futaba sat on her usual spot, eyes glued to her phone.

“Uneventful. I made an AO3 account and gave Akechi Kudos for his story. The one about 30 guys nutting in his mouth.” Funny how that seems like such a normal thing to say already.

“You mean the Glory Hole at the Penguin Sniper? Except that it wasn’t the actual story.” That got her to think for a second.
”Wait - You didn’t read his writing before giving Kudos?”

Not the usual approach, if her tone was anything to go by.

“Nope — but I will. Soon.”

Later. At school. It had been a while since the last time Kawakami had called one of the other teachers to the faculty office. And I want to know about the things he keeps in his closet. Hopefully no skeletons. Everything else would be appreciated.

The freakier, the better.

If their plan should fail — that would give him some leverage, should Akechi enter the investigation room and try to murder him.

If you shoot me, Oracle will leak your freaky porn to the television show you frequent. Links and all.

While you’re sitting there announcing my death.

You’re bluffing.

I’m so not. We’ve seen it. I know it’s freaky. She knows it’s freaky.

Over one hundred shades of depravity. Talk about the works, huh?

!

Wow. That actually isn’t such a bad idea. I bet he would hate that, having his public image of the prim and proper detective completely destroyed.

He just wanted to ask his sister about her opinion when — “Okay, sure. Let’s apply your behaviour to the sex dungeon to see how exactly you switched things up” — she started to reconstruct the scenario, step by step.

“You didn’t read the story means you didn’t put your dick in his mouth. I am not even sure if what you did qualifies as checking out the bathroom stall, because it sounds like you didn’t check anything. Maybe you just entered Akechi’s cabin instead. Next thing, you gave him Kudos - a little head pat this time, since he’s within reach — for sucking off thirty guys, back to back, in a sex dungeon. Afterwards, you left his cabin again when putting your phone away.”

Doesn’t sound too far off.

“Then you went to sleep”, she added. “All alone and lonely.”

Why did her eyes glimmer at that prospect?

I wish. Then I wouldn’t have had to go to sleep with a massive erection.

No need to share that information with her, though. Instead, he gave her a nod. “That sounds about right.”

She looks just like Chihaya now, reading my fortune.
”I am not an expert on the topic, but it sounds a bit like Akechi is cuckolding you, Joker.”

Hm. That’s a word I haven’t heard of before. No need to confess to that, either. “Well, neither am I. And if he does, it’s only because one of our teammates is in on it.”

Time to add another detail to the story. “Morgana was with me, and I didn’t want to explain the whole Penguin Sniper sex dungeon lore to him. I figured he would have troubles understanding, you know.”

And a lack of understanding usually leads to questions. Questions he wasn’t keen on answering at the moment.

“He probably would.” Futaba gave him that much, at least. “But, Akira, let’s be realistic here for a second. There is just no way we can keep him out of the bathroom forever. He was always here with us when you were getting ready. He will ask questions.”

Exactly.

A prospect he wasn’t looking forward to even a little bit.
Explaining the birds and the bees to a talking cat really wasn’t on his list of ‘Things to do’ before he died.

Unlike the detective.

…Wait a second. Who is this?
And why are you doing stupid remarks on my inner monologue?

Hi. It’s your basal ganglia. When you said ‘die’, I wanted to chime
in for a second.

What are you talking about, having the detective on my To-Do list?

Do him. As in “dicking him down on a billiard table at the local sex dungeon”.

And who are you?

Oh. Don’t mind me. Just a small area in the left hemisphere of your
brain. Responsible for language and phrase meanings and stuff.

Okay. Whatever. I don’t have time for this.

No time to think about how to avoid getting shot? I’m sorry, but
these words don’t make any sense in that order and context.

Yeah. Contradicts our survival instinct.

Well actually — I would love to think about it. But not with you
two. Where are the parts responsible for logic and rationality? I
want to speak to them.

Silence.

Also. That thing about Akechi and the billiard table — that sounds
stupid. I would’ve never written that down.

But wouldn’t it be pretty hot?

Maybe it would be intriguing, yeah. But also convoluted. He wants
to kill me, you know.

But does he really? Think about it. How surprised you were to find out about that specific part of his plan.

Look guys, if you want me to know who I’m speaking to, you have to introduce yourselves by name. I won’t ask everytime.

Also. This isn’t the time to act on primitive instincts. How about intense focus and strategic thinking instead?

That would be my role, I suppose. Prefrontal cortex speaking. Sorry
for the delay. I’m really not a morning person.

What if I tell you that the only strategy to survive is fucking his
brains out?

Wait, what?

Very thoroughly. As they like to do it on the Archive.

‘Like on the Archive’ means ‘All of his holes at once.‘
That’s what we learnt yesterday.

Multiple times. Rinse and repeat until he either forgets or abandons
his plan of shooting you and staging it as suicide.

Glad to hear our goals are still aligned.

As soon as one of those conditions is met, you can go straight back
to fucking.

Wow. It really thought this through from start to finish. That
doesn’t happen, normally.

“Akira? Are you okay?”

Even if it did. That can’t be the only way. What else do we
have?

Silence.

… Hello?

Something about this didn’t seem correct.
You know, this sounds a whole lot like emotional blackmail to me.

Silence.

Well, nevermind. I will just come up with another plan on my
own.

But when he tried to think of another method, the only output he received was —

Just admit that you would love to suck me off, too.

Non anonymously. Right here and now.

and

That’s it?

Not quite. Then you show me what’s so special about that mouth that so many people want to fuck it, apparently.

and

Just a sneak peek doesn’t count.

I want the whole movie.

You’d have to look into my eyes while I finish in your mouth — and then swallow.

Shit. This again.

He repeated his attempt. Same result. Just more elaborate.

Eyes looking up at him. Pretty dark, in this light, but still with a little bit of a red tinge, because he knew what they looked like normally. Not looking away once. Himself, trying to keep the sounds down, so they wouldn’t get caught. Warm wetness all around his dick.

Okay. Next try.

Fuck.

What? Are you regretting this already?
Because you know you will have to admit defeat?

A gloved hand around his dick. Some well-paced strokes. I wonder what that would feel like?

Nope. The only thing I regret is not coming up with this sooner.

Okay. Maybe third time’s the charm.

The proficient detective, taking him all the way in. Nose touching his torso. Gagging. God, these wet sucking noises are killing me.

You’re really going all out, aren’t you?

Taking a small break while licking all the way from base to tip with his flat tongue. Not breaking eye contact once. As was promised.

I wouldn’t want to win undeservedly.

Yeah. I guess that’s fair.

Okay. Time to cool down and take a break.
Let my thoughts just simmer for a bit.

He made the bet without his brain cells. Because they used this little interlude to start playing ping-pong with that first idea — about bending Akechi over the billiard table — and all the other things about fucking him.

Do you remember when you said that you will up the ante when I manage to beat you for the first time?

How about we make it a rule that the loser gets bent over the billiard table from now on?

If I object you will just use that as an excuse to question my insanity again, am I correct?

So correct.

That means I have no choice but to say yes?

Exactly.
Or just bend over right now. That I would also take as a yes.

How about you bend over instead? You didn’t win against me, yet.

Shit. That would be pretty hot, too.

Boldness. Probably the one thing all his past crushes had had in common.

If you think about it — “Dicking down the detective on a billiard table to make him forget his current plans” doesn’t sound so illogical after all.

We are already using external force to change people’s thinking.
Sexual intercourse would just be another method to do so.

It’s really not that different.

Did you think about the fact that maybe, he isn’t interested in me that way? You remember the part when we talked about consent yesterday, right?

What about all the intense eye-contact?

Remember when we were in the bathhouse and caught him checking us out in the changing room?

How he turned away then? Tried to change the topic?

Or when we ran our fingers through his hair at the cafe? He looked pretty flustered.

Also that one time at the jazz bar, with the small tables. The accidental knee-touching. He didn’t move away. Didn’t he lean into it a little bit?

Yeah. But then he excused himself to the restroom.

What about ‘Honey I’m home’? Just a few days earlier?

Please don’t remind me.

It still hurt, thinking about how it was before and how it was now, after they bugged his phone and found out the details of his plan.

What about outside impression?
What are the others going to think, if I tell them about this?

“Listen, I think it’s a smart idea to try and get in the pants of the guy who wants to send a bullet through my brain.”

That’s what you’re concerned about? You are maybe going to die soon.

Who cares about outside impression?

They would judge me. One hundred percent.

Because I would judge me, too.
For being completely delusional. Phallus-centric.

They will think that I probably tried to masturbate with a vacuum cleaner at some point in my life.

That would be the analogy for
’A stupid, horny teenager who puts sex >>> long-term
health’.

But taking long-term health into account would be a misguided priority here. There are only about two weeks left.

Also, you can just keep the facts you’re not comfortable sharing to yourself.

Hm. Fair point.

Also — it would be kind of a dick move to judge you doing anything necessary to save your life.

They would probably do the same, in your situation.

So that’s the grand plan here? Fucking my soon-to-be-assassin into rethinking his choice?

It is an option to entertain, at the least.

We can talk specifics later.

And then what? If it works? What would happen then?

As I told you already - Straight back to fucking.

You’re really the most immature one of the whole bunch.

Yeah. But also the most fun.

I will keep this whole conversation a secret. This was disturbing. Very much so.

…Thanks for helping out, though.

So — this would be his little secret, for now.

It’s okay. Everybody has secrets.

His target had a whole puzzle of them.

And he would need to put the pieces together during the following days.

Who knows how much of what he showed me those last months was even real.

Who was the real Akechi? What kind of person? Would reading seven writings a day really help him figure that out?

One thing’s for sure. He’s so not the prim and proper detective he poses as.
I’m not buying it anymore. At all.

Did he even want to be figured out? Maybe he was just a complete psycho. Down on the wrong path, and no regrets about anything.

He would need to figure out how he felt about this whole inner monologue. So much new input. Most of it very new and very confusing.

And his imagination running wild like that? That hadn’t been an issue at all these last months. I guess I have been too busy?

And also — did he really want to have sex with someone who wanted to kill him?

Maybe there was some other explanation for Akechi’s planned actions. Some big motivation. Or hopeless situation.

And if that’s not the case — to hell with this new plan.

He had a genius hacker sister who was already on the task of preparing his phone for his grand exit.
And then, he would just have to make sure that Akechi would definitely, one hundred percent, get to see it.

No way in hell I’m going to die. I can do this. Have to.

Now that’s what I like to hear.

“Earth to Joker.”

The world slowly came into focus, and the first thing he saw was his sis, moving her index finger slowly from one side to the other very close in front of him.

“What was that?” His little sister looked concerned with her brows furrowed like that. “I thought for a moment you’d had a stroke.”

“Sorry for worrying you.” Damn. How long did that take? Felt like an eternity.

“No. I mean, yes.”

He could see her pupils dilating in real time.

Hurry. She’s starting to panic. Also that’s not what I meant.

“You’re not incorrect. Maybe I had a stroke — a stroke of genius.”

Private Invitation

“A stroke of genius?”, she asked him, lifting one of her eyebrows in visible disbelief.

“One hundred percent. I can’t tell you, yet - but I will. Soon.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you using the exact same wording earlier when we were talking about reading Akechi’s story.”

Did I?
”A conscious decision. Just for extra style points.”

“You are very weird sometimes.” His sister was shaking her head, as if she’d hast lost all hope about his mental state a long time ago.
”I mean that as a compliment.”

One of my most redeeming qualities, I guess.
”Could you repeat what you were saying, before I blacked out?”

“Sure.” Futaba cleared her throat and closed her eyes, channeling her focus. Her next sentence sounded like it came straight out of a horror novel, a terrifying foreboding about the terrible things yet to come.
”Uncomfortable questions, Akira. Very soon.”

“Oh. Right.” He remembered. The To-Do list — featuring the detective instead of Sex Ed with a talking cat — leading his thoughts astray.

Just say it. Beating around the bush won’t make it better. Or different.
”Look. Here’s the thing — I’m not sure how comfortable I am talking about Glory Holes at the sex dungeon when he’s around.”

And what about this weird new idea I came up with, moments ago?
Better to keep his cards close to his chest — at least for the moment.

He wasn’t in the mood for discussions. Maybe stating the obvious would be enough of a reason? “I mean… he is a cat, after all.”

“I am not a cat!” The muffled voice came from outside the door, carrying huge amounts of outrage.

Cardboard walls be damned — the little rascal had been eavesdropping? The whole time? From the hallway?

Shameless.
Just like Akechi and his public sex diary.

“What is cuckolding? What is a sex dungeon? Why do you feel uncomfortable talking to me about this?” Wow. Great idea stating the obvious. 100 points.

This day is cursed.

“Also, why are you keeping secrets from me? I’m part of the team too, you know?” Their little buddy sounded like someone who had been left outside in the rain without an umbrella.

Damn those heartstrings. Morgana pulled at them so heavily, Futaba was already up and grabbing the door handle before Akira had any chance to object.

“Get in here, member of an unknown species sporting a cat-like appearance”, Futaba ushered him in. Morgana squeezed through the tiny door crack, immediately making his way to his usual sitting spot.

He took his time lazily stretching out his limbs before lying down at the edge of the bathtub. It was the spot that put him at the maximum amount of distance to Futaba — clearly a survival strategy. His black fur looked too soft and cuddly in this light.

But today, it seemed like his sis wanted answers, not cuddles. “Do you know how babies are made, Mona?”

“You mean little humans?”

“Exactly.” Akira found himself answering his call back instead. “Do you know how?”

Where is she going with this? He had no idea — but he was curious now. Maybe his worries were completely unfounded, and Morgana’s lewd thoughts and knowledge had been preserved despite his amnesia.

That would certainly explain some things.
Like his behavior towards Ann.

“Hmmmmmmm.” Morgana scratched his chin, deep in thinking.
”I guess it works the same as in the metaverse?”

Babies in the Metaverse? Not sure if this was going in the right direction.

“First, you choose two separate entities. That would be the mother and the father.”

Huh. That doesn’t sound too bad.

“Next, the prison ward hides their faces with a heavy fabric.
Mother and father are moved towards the chopping blocks strapped to a conveyor belt. Two guillotines — one for each — standing next to each other.”

Futaba’s eyes were big like saucers.

“Then - boom! Their heads are cut off simultaneously.”

He’s really getting into this.

“From this sacrifice, a new human is born into this world.” Spoken like a priest at the end of a sermon.

“Oh — and as a last step, the mother and father are bought back from the compendium.”

Akira didn’t know where to start. Maybe by laughing at himself, having any hope earlier. No doubt about it - Morgana was a lost case.

A lost case still waiting for his cookie. “So? How close am I?”

“Joker?” Futaba addressed her brother instead.

“Hm?” This is just like in one of these terrible sitcoms. The ones with the audio clips of people laughing. So the viewers know where the jokes are.

“What Mona just said - that would be one of the more unhinged requests on a kink meme.”

“What is a kink meme? And why are you not responding to my questions?” Spoken like a little child with two big bullies as siblings.

Kink memes. Definitely need to remember to ask her about those.

Seeing as they came up twice already, and he was nothing if not thorough.

Right now however, his sis was trying to consolidate the lost case for being locked out earlier.
”Mona, look — we were just talking about how Akira wants to make babies with Akechi. Sorry for not including you in the conversation. We thought you wouldn’t be interested.”

Apparently, he was very interested.
In complete shock.

“Why on earth would you want to make babies with him? Do you remember that he is planning to rat us out and kill you in a few days?”
The look in Morgana’s eyes carried serious doubts whether or not Akira’s brain cells were still fully intact.

“The killing part is exactly what I am trying to avoid here, Morgana.” His chance to dispel the doubts Morgana had about his brain cells. Because he had a lot of them. They can even talk.

“And also — I don’t want to make babies with Akechi.” Just fuck him, if the talking brain cells are to be believed.

“And how do you want to avoid the killing part?” Morgana prodded. “And what about all these weird new words you used earlier?”

“Futaba and I are trying to acquire some additional knowledge about our enemy.”

Akira gave him a quick rundown of the events that had been unfolding during the last twenty-four hours, the SFW version.
How they had found out Akechi had some potentially revealing information posted on the internet, and about his hope to use this knowledge to come up with another plan besides the one they already had.

He was mentally preparing himself for even more potentially disturbing questioning —

— but, for some reason, the questions didn’t come.

“You know, sitting still until the day in question will drive me crazy.”
Maybe I am, already.
Seeing as he couldn’t stop thinking about Akechi and him in precarious positions all around the Penguin Sniper.

“You know… the day I get caught by the police. The day I have to sit in a room and wait for someone I hope doesn’t show up.” Please just understand how fucking terrifying that is.

“Best case, it gives me some agency, and I will stop worrying so much and losing sleep until that day.”

Hm? What’s up, Joker? Cannot sleep?

No Penguin Sniper anymore. Instead, the attic at Leblanc. Him and Akechi.

In bed.

Laying on their sides. His rival’s ass pressed against his dick, like that was a normal thing to do to people you plan on killing.

Yeah. It’s kind of your fault, the way you rub yourself against me for the better part of four hours already.

It’s because I want you to fuck me.

You would do the same, in my situation.

I fucked you three times already. How many more times will it take?

That depends on how many more times you are able to get it up.

Slut. You really are insatiable, aren’t you?

Maybe I should just spank your naughty ass instead. Maybe that would get you to stop.

!

This is starting to get out of hand.

“You know, Joker, I understand. You are putting your life at stake here. If it gives you some calm, there is no harm in doing what you are trying to do.” Morgana paused for a second. “Is there something I can do, maybe?”

Wait, what?
He had expected everything — everything but acceptance and a sincere offer to help.

Okay. This is it. The opportunity we’ve all been waiting for. Now
take it.

“Actually - yes. There is. Just one small thing…”

“So from now on, we will rotate my sleeping place daily?”

“Exactly. Today you will sleep at Futaba’s, and tomorrow you will be back at Leblanc, and we’ll watch the movie we borrowed last week.”

“Sounds like a plan!” No other questions. Morgana sounded excited, even.

That easy?
I need to ask for things more often.
I also need to buy lube.

“Mona, you know who also wants to make babies?”
Obviously a setup, because Futaba didn’t wait for an answer. “Ann. With Ryuji.”

”…Lady Ann?” Shock didn’t cut it this time. The poor guy looked like he had suffered a heart-attack.

“With… Ryuji?!”

Like someone who just got bitten by something with very, very sharp
teeth.

“No way. The chopping blocks are no place for someone like her.”
He jumped down from his lounging spot, ready for action.
”I will head to Shibuya earlier, try and talk to her at the station. Hopefully I can change her mind before it’s too late.”

But not before shooting Akira a warning look.
”Don’t be late for school.”

And he was out.

“Well, at least we got that sorted out.” Quiet acceptance in Akira’s voice.
With every passing day, the mornings at the Sakura house became a tiny bit weirder.

“Don’t think that I don’t notice what you are doing, Joker.”

Futaba shot him a warning look, too. “Trying to turn Leblanc into your private masturbation prison three times a week, starting today.”

Yeah, I know. But at this rate, it’s really just a matter of
self-preservation.

He would probably get hit by a car very soon if he wouldn’t be able to sort out this constant fantasizing. Also it’s kind of your fault, seeing as this started while talking about Glory Holes at the Penguin Sniper.

“Sis, you are very weird sometimes.” His hand was already grabbing the door handle.

“Talk to you later?”

11/5

At School

Ann’s text message arrived as soon as she saw Akira’s butt making contact with a hard piece of wood, courtesy of the chair at Shujin Academy.

“Uhm, excuse me?!” His teammate turned her head back towards him, her expression somewhere between anger, disgust, shock and concern.

“I’m sorry. It was Futaba’s idea. Ask her, please. I am kind of busy right now.”

Kawakami had just called Chalk Sniper to the faculty office. As soon as he had left the room, Akira had propped up his book and opened Akechi’s AO3 profile.

His eyes stopped at the writing he had given him Kudos for, the night before. 7 more people lined up to get sucked off. No kudos.

Rude.

At least one of them seemed to have left a comment. Clicking on the little ‘1’ led him directly to it.

Wow. That’s not normal, right?
Because it certainly felt like the kind of dickhead move that could make someone awake to a persona.

He was busy coming up with a reply before he even realized what he was doing.

“What is it with this school and accidental office calls?!”

Oh oh. Chalk Sniper had returned — and not in a good mood.

Shit.
The comment had him sidetracked. No progress on his actual task of reading Akechi’s story.

Well. Damage’s done.
Giving an anonymous asshole a piece of his mind would need to suffice for the moment. He pushed the Reply button and put his phone away, before Chalk Sniper would unleash his wrath upon him.

The wrath was unleashed less than an hour later, instead, because Akira had forgotten to mute his mail notifications.

When he clicked the link in the mail, it took him to his Inbox on the Archive.

And that Inbox was… empty.
The message was gone. As was Akechi’s writing.

And I still haven’t read it.

And now he wouldn’t ever, probably. The opportunity had passed.

But now he asked me to chat. That’s good, right?
In exchange for a little headpat.

Author's Note

Hello Hello! :)

so first things first: this isn’t the new chapter. Although that will be coming out soon, too (definitely next week).

As a preparation for the next chapter, I formatted and edited all five previous chapters and added around 1,500 words in total.

I guess that’s half a chapter, so if you enjoyed the story up to this point, I invite you to re-read it. It now features more of Akira’s wild imagination, and a sneak peek at the text messages and AO3 story preview box which will both be featured quite heavily in the next chapter ;3

If you’re not up for a re-read, Chapter 4 is still worth checking out though. It’s been almost completely rewritten, so good as new, I suppose.

I’m gonna give it over to the narrator to explain why I did the whole re-editing stuff, if you’re interested.

See ya next week!

Okay. Well. I guess I’m the narrator of the story?

You probably already know me. I’m the guy who tries to avoid getting shot in around two weeks.

When the person speaking earlier played the game that features me as the main character, they called me Dick McBoot. Leader of the Bootstraps. Yes, you heard that correctly. Pretty stupid.
They thought they wouldn’t get into this game and wanted something to laugh about. Joke’s on them, I guess.

McBoot-senpai, McBoot-kun, Dick-kun. I really heard it all.
Thing is — McBoot really didn’t have a character, except for completely neglecting Ryuji so that he didn’t even get to have his second awakening.

Sorry, Skull.

…Which is why as soon as we were alone and Futaba couldn’t carry the whole story on her back anymore — That sounds so unhealthy — they struggled coming up with a consistent narrative voice because they didn’t know anything about me.

That’s why they needed to spend some time with me. Get to know me better.

The re-edit is the result of that time spent together. But I would’ve liked for some of those things to stay private.

So yeah — that’s it. That’s the reason.

Oh. Another thing. They wanted me to tell you that this story will enter Freak4Freak territory starting with the next chapter. I will definitely have to ask Futaba what that means.

Mental Crossroads

Chalk Sniper had just announced the end of class when —

“Hey. Joker.”

”…What is it?”

“Can you please swap places with Lady Ann during recess?”

Oh god. Here we go again.
Sorry, Ann.

Seems like Morgana was still deeply invested in his mission. Akira wondered if it would make sense to try and defuse the situation, but… the one thing he’d learned during the last months was Morgana’s sheer inexorable persistence. A pretty admirable trait, but right now… well.

Better for them to figure it out on their own.
Also… I could use a little bit of fresh air.

“Hey, Ann.”

His teammate turned around.

“Mona would like to speak with you for a moment.”

He didn’t wait for her reaction before he grabbed his phone and left the classroom. Twenty minutes. Better be quick about it. He was already writing the first message to Futaba while making his way to the rooftop.

It only took her a minute to reply.

Not sure if she is complimenting or ridiculing me… He decided to go with the first option because the second would have hurt too much.

Great. Now we have an excuse to deep-dive into his porn stash. Without any further delay and head first. It’s the next obvious step.

Without feeling like a horny teenager, because it’s such an obvious thing to do. Strictly business. No personal interest involved at all.

In preparation for some ‘intel gathering’.

Did someone mention porn?

…Really?!

He had thought, no, hoped, maybe even made a little silent prayer to himself that the weird internal debate this morning would be a weird one time occurence in his life — one that he would look back on fondly in twenty years reminiscing about the good old days or whatever — but no, of course not.

Because this day is cursed. No doubt about it.

He wasn’t superstitious normally, but if this day would continue like this, he could see himself making regular visits to the shrine from here on out. It wasn’t normal for him to be so completely out of luck.

Okay, hold on for a second. Akechi slid into your DMs about an hour ago. Maybe this is just Black and White Thinking, and everything will turn out to be just fine.

A cognitive distortion Maruki had mentioned to him, a few weeks earlier.

And before he could look at porn, he first had to get back to class. He slipped through the door just in time before the start of Kawakami’s lesson.

Calling the maid service really was the best idea Ryuji ever came up with.

Free laundry. Massages. Reading porn written by Akechi during class. All in exchange for a little bit of money and a little change of heart?

Okay, sure, it had been a little bit embarrassing when he’d realized that his teacher had developed a crush on him and he’d had to tell her he wasn’t interested in her that way — but now it was fine. No romantic interest involved anymore.

And compared with the things other guys call a maid service for, this is pretty vanilla…

Or not, if Akechi’s stories would turn out to be pretty kinky.

Sure, it wasn’t exactly nice to shit all over Kawakami’s class today, but…hey.
You give some, you take some, right?

And now. Finally.

…Not quite. One other thing.

Okay. Drum roll, please.

… Wait. Just one second.

He didn’t want to, because his curiosity was killing him by now, but… it would be worthwhile to spend a minute or two contemplating his goal during the coming hour.

Because the brainless way he’d handled the last twenty four hours had already turned his silly request into a whole kind of situation, and the inside of his head still felt like a-little-bit-of-a-mess.

This is first and foremost about gathering intelligence. What Futaba said about mutual kinks and depravity… that’s important. If we are into totally different things, I can make it my personality to be into all the things he’s into. My fictional online personality I mean.

He regretted not putting more effort into coming up with a username by now. dungeon_sniper? It looked and felt extremely dumb.

Figure out what his deal is. Maybe his porn holds some secret information about himself, that would help me to convince him I’m not his enemy.

Because Akira wasn’t his enemy. His rival, yes. In a healthy competition between equals. If there was a way for both him and Akechi to get out of Sae’s palace and the investigation room emotionally and physically unscathed, he would put all wheels into motion.

Why?

Because I like him.

Easy as that. The people in his inner circle were important to him. Akechi was among them. At least for now.

Even if I’m kind of a stupid and silly moron sometimes, I’m not an asshole.

What’s his big goal? Who is he working with, or for? Why? What’s his motivation? And what exactly has he been doing all this time? Why?

Why? Why did he still care so much about the guy behind the mental breakdowns, who most likely killed Haru’s father?

…Because I like him.

Because he thought that he was pretty good at figuring out people’s character, and it would be devastating to find out he’d been completely wrong about Akechi’s all along.

Because there was still some chance to get him to abandon his plans. Own up to his crimes, if it came to that. Start anew.

Akira wasn’t ready to accept the possibility that Akechi was a complete and utter psychopath, without any shred of empathy in his bones, murdering or causing people to go insane simply because he was getting off on it or for some other sick reason.

There has to be an explanation.

He absolutely one hundred percent refused to believe otherwise, at least for now.

Maybe figure out a timeline.

The writings did have a publish date, so maybe that could be helpful in some way, too.

… And one other thing.

It felt like a little bit of a stretch, but…

All those mixed signals he sent me since we’ve started seeing each other.

So flirty at the beginning. Taking me to the aquarium? Being so embarrassed at the cafe?

The whole thing had been so innocent. But the way he’d reacted?

The phone call afterwards?

He will dress me up and decide on everything from hair to accessories?

“I think my clothes would look good on you?"
"Does that sound fun to you?”

Not gonna lie, that was so outrageously gay. Nobody could fake being so awkwardly cute, right? Trying so hard? That had to be genuine.

Shit. Why did his heart start melting a little when thinking about Akechi desperately trying to come up with a good counter on the phone afterwards, nervous and completely overcompensating for his earlier reaction?

Also that pancake talk at the TV station.

He said he was busy, but then he was asking if we were going to have some cake, and then he said he was hungry, and paused, and there is no way in hell he wasn’t hoping that we would ask him to join us after he’d be finished with whatever he would need to do?

Shit. Why did his heart start breaking a little when thinking about Akechi being alone afterwards, contemplating if the conversation could have gone different?

So many invites on Saturdays and messages that he is “alone right now”.

Shit. Why did his heart start beating really fast when thinking about what it would be like, inviting Akechi out for a change?

… You’ll figure it out soon, Akira.

Perhaps that would be a good idea in general. Spend more time together. We wouldn’t have to frame it as a ‘date’. More like teambuilding.

… Or maybe he would like if I explicitly frame it as a date?

What would make him feel special? Was Akechi the kind of person that wanted to be wined and dined?

He would like it if I show him a place I have never shown to anybody. Ideally, a place that’s new for him, too. Somewhere we could talk, without being short on time. And I would need to confess to him that I have never taken anybody to that place before. He would enjoy that so much, I know it… even if he wouldn’t admit it.

… Where could that be?

The moment the thought entered his mind, he knew that was it.

Crossroads.

He didn’t have plans for this evening yet. He’d entertained the idea of getting a little more acquainted with the Archive, but…

He would probably make fun of the fact that we are in a kind of dodgy underground bar in Shinjuku, and that I am working there as a waiter, but I bet that would only be for show. He would be so into it.

He was the prim and proper detective posting filthy porn on the internet. Akira working in a bar that did crossdressing competitions and burlesque shows and all kinds of other stuff, owned by Lala, the drag queen with a heart made of gold? Puh-please. That was chaste, in comparison.

It would need to be either today or tomorrow.

But… is that wise?

Today would be really spontaneous. Tomorrow would be really busy.

If I would invite him right this second… would that make him feel extra special? He would check the time and realize that I am in class right now. Would he feel flattered, if he knows I am thinking about him when I should do something completely different instead?

Like looking at his porn?

Shit. He’d really managed to get sidetracked again.
The internal conflict was real now. This idea? Genius. No doubt about it. But… it also felt kind of all-or-nothing. What if he’d gotten all the signs completely wrong and Akechi didn’t have a bigger plan, he was just acting out of spite, and wasn’t interested in Akira at all? Maybe even had a girlfriend?

Okay, now you’re just sputtering complete nonsense.

I could text Lala that I’ll take today’s shift.

That would defuse the situation, if it turned out to be a horrible idea. Akira could just ignore Akechi for the whole evening, tell him he’s busy replacing stocks in the back area. Ahh, that was kind of unexpected. Sorry for wasting your time. Well, see you.

Or…
… he could go all out. Up the ante.

I could ask him: Hey, Akechi. Remember when you told me you’d like to dress me up one day?

… How about this evening?

Akira had noticed that he was pretty adamant about wanting to be useful when they were exploring Sae’s Palace. And somehow, that had felt genuine, too.

If he asks why I want to take him up on the offer, I could tell him I want to improve my charms as a waiter. And I thought he’d be the right person to ask, because he always looks so stylish and people are generally crazy about him.

Or… I could make it more personal… Tell him that I think he looks stylish and… would that be a stupid thing to say, that I am crazy about him?

Telling him something along those lines would make Akechi feel both useful and flattered. That was what Akira hoped for at least.

It would be the opportunity to show him another side of me.

But what’s the point of taking Akechi on a date if Akira would be busy working instead of talking?

Saturdays aren’t that busy. It could actually be an advantage.

With Akechi, things were never one-dimensional.

He would see me running around in an outfit he’d picked for me. The whole evening. Be able to take in the scenery, make little deductions about the other customers, tell me about them when it’s not too busy and I can take a moment off to talk to him… All in his own time. He would enjoy that, no doubt about it.

Also…

I could make sure to be extra attentive to him. We could treat it like a game, one in which I’ll ask him his name and we pretend he is just a customer and I’m the waiter. I bet he would love that, being able to boss me around the whole evening.

Shit. Something about that idea really did things to him, right now. Both pretending to be somebody else. Or rather… just themselves, without all the complicated and difficult circumstances. With a little power imbalance, too. An innuendo.

Who knew what would happen then? He didn’t, but fuck, he really wanted to find out. His heart was hammering against his ribcage with almost bone-shattering force while imagining it.

And I would have to tell him that this is just between us both. A place and a side of me I never showed anybody else before. He would love that even more.

Holy shit. This felt like an awakening. Like everything he’d known about his sexuality had been erased and rewritten in… fifteen minutes. That’s how much time had passed since the bell rang.

Who cared about getting sucked off in a public bathroom or fucking in an attic in a shitty bed made out of milk crates and a too-hard mattress?

Right now, he wanted to get bossed around. Forced to wear things someone else picked out for him. Be praised for how good he looked in them. Okay, scrap someone, he was brave enough to say it, he wanted it to be his rival. The maybe not so prim and proper detective with chestnut-colored eyes and sandy shoulder-length hair.

Make him the center of his attention for the duration of the evening. Cater to his every wish. As the easy-on-the-eyes-and-easy-in-general waiter. Or waitress, if it came to that. It was a crossdressing bar after all. And he would have absolutely no issue with wearing a skirt or maybe even heels, if his rival wanted to make things a little bit more difficult for him.

Just spend time together without all this complicated Phantom Thieves detective drama surrounding them. Just two normal young adults.

Sure. Everything about this idea sounded super normal.

Then he would also finally realize that I am not hetero. Because seeing Akira around Ryuji — whose behavior made even him uncomfortable sometimes — could definitely have given Akechi the wrong impression.

He was bi. Always had been. Akira knew that since that fateful day around… ten years ago — his mum had been called to the principal’s office two times in a row — when she’d explained to him that liking boys was fine and normal, while trying to scrub off little heart doodles from his forearm. Kind of a long story.

Back to topic. This felt like a worthwhile idea.

And because he finally wanted to stop being a moron about this, he opened his note app and wrote some things down.

Another thing. The thing he had actually thought about, before getting lost in contemplating potential date locations.

Maybe see if any of the writings relate to me.

Shit. Now his stomach started acting up, too.

Maybe there would be some obvious hints, like one of the characters having black hair and grey eyes? Or some not so obvious, like…

What would be a non-obvious hint?

He would need to ask his teammates how he was like, soon. Outside and self impression could be two very different things.

Done. He felt pretty good about the clarity he’d gained during the last couple minutes, even if it had taken him longer than he’d hoped for.

Other things he’d gained that he wouldn’t have anticipated: a tingling stomach, a racing heart and a slight shift in blood distribution. Why oh why?

… You’ll figure it out soon, Akira.

Nope. He didn’t need to figure anything out anymore. It had been a rhetorical question. He knew what was up here.

The thought was extremely scary. And he had to admit, it would be easier to just convince himself that

It’s whatever. It’s got nothing to do with Akechi. It probably doesn’t even relate to him as a person. There is just something about guys with eyes the color of chestnut and long-ish sandy hair touching their shoulders that… leads to some kind of immediate physical reaction. Sorry, can’t help it.

But this wasn’t the time to be a coward, anymore. There were fourteen days left to change something about this relationship. Five months had passed now, and they were still on a last name basis and one of the involved parties planned to shoot the other. Akira would need to grow a massive kind of spine, if he wanted his plan to have even a slim chance of succeeding.

So instead, he was finally ready to face the truth about his situation.

I’m a stupid silly moron with a maybe slightly underdeveloped self-preservation instinct. Because I have a huge fucking crush on Goro Akechi. The boy who plans to stage my murder as a suicide. Just thinking about him makes my cock hard in 0.001 seconds. Sorry, can’t help it.

It’s not about his looks. Not exclusively. It’s the whole deal. And the prospect that he’s a completely degenerated slut at the bottom of it? I guess that’s a big fucking plus, seeing as it helped me come to this realization in the first place.

Fuck. It was kind of mortifying, all of it, especially if it would turn out to be completely one-sided, but… No risk, no fun.

And if he would really kick the bucket in fourteen days? Then he wanted the days leading up to that event to be the funniest, most exciting ones ever.

He was sitting in Kawakami’s class right now, planning to check out porn written by his crush. There, he said it. Brave as can be. And I am not even trying to hide it. Completely degenerated. Just like Akechi’s porn, hopefully.

…Okay. I’m ready.

…Not quite. One other thing.

This wasn’t the time to be subtle anymore.

Make him feel wanted. Because holy fucking shit, did he want him.

Specialty Coffee

…Wait. What?

Really, Goro?… First Times? The only other tag? No summary?
When I told you to surprise me? Let me see you at your worst?

He took a moment to ponder the meaning of this unforeseen development.

The ways and ways and ways in which one could interpret this…

He was confused by this obvious change in pattern. This one was as mysterious as could be, with no chance to gain any information from it… but also very likely to be tame — “First Times” — so he wagered there was no harm in taking a quick look at the writing itself. He had to start somewhere, and part one of three didn’t sound like the worst place to do so.

Sundays

A neighborhood in a big city. An apartment complex with a considerate amount of inhabitants, the majority of them still fast asleep. A normal Sunday, closely resembling all the others that came before it.

A room with a bed, a wardrobe, a nightstand and plain walls. Light peeking in through the window and almost closed curtains, cutting through the darkness.

A mind slowly awakening to its surroundings. A motor engine flaring up in the distance… tires dragging on concrete, the angry hisses of two cats fighting nearby… a bird shriek, followed by the noise of hastily flapping wings.

Consciousness creeping in… dragging memories along with it. …right hand holding a kettle, left hand securing it’s lid, pouring water… filling the air with the pleasant smell of freshly ground coffee beans… …these same hands in my hair, fingertips drawing circles on my scalp… …eyes looking into mine, carrying both mischief and determination… hairs standing up on the back of my neck, heat spreading from a tiny point inside my stomach all throughout my upper body.

Hair so dark it’s almost blending into the wood of the cabinets behind it… head tilted down, expression all but unreadable… a mind focused on it’s task, blending out everything else — or not?

9/15

A rainy afternoon at Leblanc

Sojiro had been out and Akira had taken over for the afternoon in what would turn out to be a very quiet shift. The weird pretentious movie guy was the only one keeping him company right now, with his ass glued to the corner booth for hours already. Akira suspected that the rain roaring outside kept everyone right where they were, at least for the moment, and he was glad he didn’t have to leave the cafe today. He had just started entertaining the idea to close the shop up early when the doorbell announced the entrance of another customer.

“Now that’s a face I wouldn’t have expected to see today.” One of the prettiest faces he’d seen at Leblanc, the one of the prim and proper detective… framed by wet strands of hair.

“I’ve had an appointment nearby, and as soon as I stepped outside and found myself in a rainstorm without an umbrella… I suspected it was fate telling me I should come here and enjoy some of your excellent coffee.” He took a seat at the bar. “As well as your excellent company.”

“Someone is trying to make me put my name on the tab again…” Akira knew exactly what Akechi was doing here, trying to wrap him around his finger… didn’t stop it from working. It was fun flirting with him… casually and without consequences. “Any particular kind of coffee that you would like to enjoy, today?”

“I will just have whatever you recommend.”

Akira’s chance to nerd out a little. It was a silent agreement between them, special interest for special interest, and while Akira talked about coffee, the beans he’d prepare, the producing region, the flavor, where Sojiro sourced it, the brewing recipe… Akechi nerded about his topics, like philosophy and Aristoteles and Hegel and Nietzsche. And he always started as soon as Akira was done grinding the coffee beans… making it hard to focus on preparing the recipe, instead of just talking about it.

…Not today, though. Today, Akechi was quiet.

Akira gave the water dripping through the filter a gentle swirl, and used this little pause to look up at Akechi, expecting to see a book cover with a complicated title that would make him come up with all kinds of questions later — instead, he found a pair of chestnut colored eyes, looking at him. Caught staring and not giving any explanation? He was different today. And that’s why Akira found himself asking…

A question. “Something’s the matter?” — catching me by surprise. Maybe it was me blending out everything else…

11/5

Back in class

So… this was it? The writing he’d hoped for… the one about him?
He was about to read the playscript to a movie that featured Goro and him, “First Times”?

He had to check the time and date for a second to reconfirm he hadn’t yet died and gone to heaven, or this special place in hell with the naked bodies and filthy sex.
No, he still felt very much alive… his blood feeling hot everywhere in his body, distributed by a heart beating so fast it couldn’t be sustainable for very long…

A mind deeply distracted by these hands — pondering… is it possible to feel attraction towards someone’s hands? To the shape and size of their fingers, the way they carry precision in even their tiniest movements? To the feeling they invoke when touching one’s hair… one’s scalp…?

A pair of eyes, waiting for an answer. Bringing me to an uncomfortable realization… I would like to feel these hands again, touching me… These fingers in my hair.

… Your hands. Your fingers. Your body.

It was funny. The minute Akira realized he really was Goro’s porn muse, in a way — he felt something shifting. His role changed from spectator to contributor.

A realization bringing back everything that has been floating around my mind and clouding my thoughts, on all the Sundays before this one… things I have suppressed… things I would like to feel…

Sundays

Summary

The Sunday after we found out we are into each other.

Chapter Notes

So imagine my surprise when I found out someone has written porn about me on this platform! I kind of wanted to come up with something in return… english isn’t my first language and I have never written porn before, only fantasized about things in my head… so please excuse me if my writing style isn’t the best! I heard I am a fast learner so hopefully I’ll be able to improve soon :) Anyway as long as this brightens someone’s day or makes you horny I’m all here for it!

Please enjoy!

“I would have expected the pleasant boy from TV to be a morning person.” But the pleasant boy from TV… wasn’t. Plain and simply.

Akira was long awake already and had used the chance — being an early riser in every meaning of the word — to get a short workout in — so he’d keep feeling comfortable running around Goro’s place in just his underwear. When Goro had asked why, Akira had told him it was because Goro was so hot already, and because Akira had a very fast metabolism… so he had to keep himself from overheating. Bullshit, of course, but Goro had accepted this explanation without further questions, so he probably enjoyed the view and didn’t even want Akira to put his clothes back on.

After the workout, he prepared a huge batch of coffee for them both and went back to bed, the one with Goro in it… still extremely hot, still half asleep, looking like someone who would start masturbating to the thought of Akira having his way with him, as soon as he would wake up… in the past, at least. Because now Akira was here, to take care of Goro’s needs instead.

Chances were that he was now dreaming about Akira, his hands and fingers, which he was obsessed with since they first touched him at the cafe, a few months ago… that one time when Akira had stepped all over Goro’s boundaries… because Goro had loved every second of it, Akira found out while reading his porn.

And Akira was so, so ready to do it all over again.
Make Goro coffee… touch his hair and all the other places Goro was longing to be touched… step over his boundaries… but just a little.

“Wakey wakey, honey — I brought coffee.” Goro mumbled something that sounded vaguely like a threat, or an insult, but he still shifted his hand to a position that seemed suitable to hold something, like a coffee mug… or genitals… later. For Goro and Akira, caffeine always came before genitals. At least one sip for each, maybe even enjoyed from the other’s mouth.
Akira didn’t lie down again. Instead, he claimed the best seat in the house…the cushioned pillows of Goro’s perfect rear, who was still lying on his stomach.

Goro looked at Akira with raised eyebrows. “These aren’t coffee cups. These are… What are these?”

“No idea. It’s your tableware.” Akira was unbothered.

“Why didn’t you bring coffee cups?”

“Because your coffee cups are too big and their walls too thin. They’d make coffee cool out in no time, which is the one thing coffee cups shouldn’t do.”

”…I think I remember these being part of a set. Small bowls for dipping sauce… or something along those lines. I cannot remember ever using them before.”

“Well, let’s just call them coffee cups.”

“How can I call them coffee cups when I just told you they are small bowls made for dipping sauce? Are you daft?” The best strategy to get Goro to wake up in no time: start a stupid argument.

“And here I am, telling you that these small bowls made for dipping sauce are perfect for coffee. More suitable than anything else you have in your cabinets right now.” Akira moved the coffee jug in circles, to help it cool down faster. His mouth was already watering, for his drink as well as… “It’s the same logic that I used yesterday when I called you my perfect fucktoy, Goro. You aren’t a toy, you are a human, how else could you be so grumpy in the mornings… but you are perfect for fucking, so…”

“Why?”

“Why you are perfect for fucking?” Akira suspected he wanted to be praised a little… Cute…

“Why the small bowls are more suitable for coffee than my coffee cups.” Hm… or not, because he just ignored Akira’s sweet nickname for him. Sad, but that was just how things were with him, in the mornings, Akira suspected. He would come around soon, surely.

“They have very thick walls so they can hold their own temperature quite well. I even put them in your microwave to heat them up before… They are shallow, so when you take a sip, your nose can take in more of the aroma, being so close. That’s basically it.” Coffee was ready. “Also, and that’s just a personal preference…”, he was leaning forward, to fill Goro’s cup — “they are tiny, which means I have an excuse to fill your cup more often… while I lean over you, so I won’t miss… so I have an excuse to snuggle up to you…” as he was doing now. His dick being squished deliciously against Goro’s ass cheeks in the meanwhile? A very, very nice bonus.

“What makes this coffee special?” No further questions about the cup replacements, so it seemed like he got the point.

“It’s a direct import from a microlot in Guatemala. We roasted this batch ourselves, me and Sojiro… leading to quite an interesting flavor profile…”

Goro took a sip. “I am not sure if I know what you mean. It tastes like coffee to me. Great coffee, but… I wouldn’t be able to distinguish it from coffee made with beans that aren’t from this ‘microlot’…” A hint of doubt in his voice. Of himself? Because he wasn’t able to appreciate the finer nuances of this caffeinated beverage?

The coffee was still a few degrees too hot, so that wasn’t ideal… Akira put buying all the proper equipment and stashing it at Goro’s place on his mental To-Do list. Still. “You need the correct technique to be able to taste and distinguish all the different flavors.”

“The correct technique?” Now his interest was piqued. Of course Goro couldn’t pass up the opportunity to learn something new…

Akira took another sip and then put both of their cups on the nightstand, before making his way under Goro’s blanket and lying on top of him. Everything felt hot already. Goro’s body, the air trapped under the blanket… the atmosphere between them, because the position they were in brought back images of last night… Akira was hard, and Goro shifted his position, opening his legs a little, to give the other more space…

My hands… on my back. Your hands… pulling down my briefs, just far enough to expose my ass…

Saturday night…

“I think it’s extremely unfair that a high school detective is able to evade the law like that.”
Akira had just peeled Goro’s tight pants off — the ones that had driven him crazy before, whenever he wore them at the Penguin Sniper — and came face to face with his ass, his perfect, perfect ass, the one he had gotten a preview on in the bathhouse… only covered by his underwear. Black fabric that stretched around his perfectly rounded backside in a way that should be forbidden by law, because these were clearly used to hide dangerous, dangerous weapons of mass destruction… at least for Akira’s coherent, normal thoughts, leaving the rest of him behind as a lizard or something… and especially now, when he saw it, and would be allowed to touch it, in just a few seconds…

“What are you talking about?” Goro inquired, his voice so very innocent…

“Your ass.” Ready to send his rival to an early grave.

“Excuse me?”

“It sounded more sophisticated in my head… what I want to say is, I think I have to confiscate your underwear…”

And that’s what he did. His hands were grabbing the waistband to peel them off, pulling the fabric down very slowly, inch by inch… just far enough to expose Goro’s cheeks. His underwear sitting at the bottom of his ass, right at the beginning of his thighs, pushed those supple cheeks of flesh up in a way that could only be described as obscene… and divine… delicious… something Akira wanted to take a bite of… rub himself against… fall into… for all eternity, through that tight, tight hole, Akira in Wonderland… turn them into a donut, because they looked so pillowy, delectable, and they had a hole in the middle, and he was acting as a police officer right now, so it fit… god, and all the other things he could fit in there, soon, like his cock… inside this donut, warm and begging to be frosted… with some sugary concoction… Akira’s cum, obviously…

He hadn’t noticed that he had started drooling. A steady stream of saliva flowing out his mouth and landing on the detective’s ass, where those little dimples are, marking the beginning of the delicious roundness that was Goro’s butt… making it’s way down his ass crack… oh, fuck, why was the light in this room so dim… he needed…

“Grab your ass cheeks and spread them apart.”

Goro looked at him like he had lost all his wits. Akira had, that much was obvious, and it was all Goro’s fault. And also that didn’t give him any right to ignore the order of a police officer, and Akira was growing impatient here, because it wasn’t polite to keep an officer waiting, either, a detective should know better…

He lay flat on top of the suspect and grabbed a generous amount of his hair, a signal he meant business, that this wasn’t a drill, no no — then repeated his order, a whisper this time, he was so close to Goro’s ear, wouldn’t want him to lose his sense of hearing… “Do it now.”

Was that… a moan? Akira was surprised. Maybe his fingers in Goro’s hair really were some kind of magic button… he would need to write that one down, later…

And now that he was up there, he wanted to bite his neck, too, so he did, and sucked, and licked, around his ear too… more moans… oh yes, definitely would write that one down…

“Do it now, or you will regret it… you want me to take the edge off, don’t you? And I plan on doing that by making you come… with my fingers… ” Another moan, he really got it bad for them, Akira concluded — “my cock, too, if you would like that…” He smelled so good, delectable, that hair of his, so he started searching his hair with his fingers to look for a spot that would smell the best, maybe he wasn’t an officer, maybe he was a police dog looking for whatever other weapons Goro was hiding on his body right now, god, he really had lost all his brain cells by now —

And Goro… had turned into his bitch in heat, apparently, being fondled and worshipped like this, because his hands moved towards his ass, one left, one right — and pulled his cheeks apart, just like Akira had told him to do… good boy…

How would that feel, feeling your lips on mine? Your tongue invading my mouth? Your fingers?

Sunday…

“I can show you, if you want. Open your mouth.”

He did, but just to ask why he needed an open mouth for this, Akira knew that — didn’t matter, the result was the same. Akira used the opportunity to stick two of his fingers in there, gently, and press down on Goro’s tongue.

Akira didn’t think that this morning would turn into a study session… one between a very inappropriate teacher and his favorite pupil… but he didn’t mind in the least.
The teacher’s body was pressed flush against his student, so every word of their lecture could be whispered into their students ear, seeing as that had worked so well yesterday. Mouth so very, very close that every word, every breath would send tingles from there all the way to Goro’s lower spine… that’s what he had confessed to Akira, what it felt like, whenever he’d done it the night before… “In order to learn the correct technique… I need you to let your imagination run wild a little, Goro.”

“Imagine that instead of my fingers, it’s my cock in your mouth.” Akira could hear Goro rolling his eyes right now, thinking I knew it, this is just another opportunity for you to be a pervert again…. But that wasn’t the point here at all. Okay, maybe a little.

“The one that feels so good inside you… the one you like because of the way it stretches you out… ” Akira added a third finger, to make it feel more realistic. “My dick, so very hard right now, because it’s filled with happy memories of yesterday, being praised by you like that, right before it made you come…”

His dick that would be very ready to nut in Goro’s mouth this second just from the memories alone would it be in there, so Akira was glad it wasn’t, it was still early, and they had the whole day ahead of them…

Goro, however… wasn’t having any of it?! The noises out of his mouth sounded like cries of annoyance and outrage… very muffled ones, but still. Akira knew where this was going. He was playing hard to get again, like all these months before. And just… hours after being Akira’s agreeable slut, begging him to get to it, to shove his cock inside him the microsecond the tip had started stretching his tight muscle, he didn’t mind if it hurt a little, he felt so empty and just wanted to be filled, badly?!
“…the one you can look forward to feel inside you very soon, pretending that you don’t want to get fucked by me again the earliest opportunity you get…” Such a brat. “…knowing that’s just how to push my buttons…” Akira wouldn’t have him any other way.
Judging from Goro’s moan forming somewhere deep in his throat, which Akira felt resonating against his fingers… he’d finally gotten the message whose dick they were talking about here. Good.

“I know you just do it to manipulate me into giving you what you want, Goro… great news for you, it’s working pretty well so far…”

“Where was I? That cock between your rosy lips… stuffing the space between them like it’s thanksgiving and your mouth the main dish everybody is looking forward to.” He wanted to be serious about this, but now Goro had pushed some buttons, so Akira wanted to push some buttons as well… and his mouth being stuffed by his rival like a turkey? That wouldn’t sit well with him at all. Akira was already curious what he’d come up with soon, as revenge…

“My very hard dick, moving in and out your mouth… Just as my fingers do right now…” In a steady pace, in sync with Akira’s hips against Goro’s ass. “Can you be good for me and imagine that for a second, honey?”

Goro’s mouth told Akira everything he needed to know.
”Seems like you can, the way you suck on my fingers right now… And seems like you want to, later today, because how could I not want to indulge, after that kind of preview…?”
His rival, so suggestible… His fucktoy, who loved to get praised, and he, who loved to make his fucktoy happy, like with some fresh spine tingles courtesy of Akira’s tongue licking and sucking Goro’s earlobe and everywhere around where it felt good. A match made in heaven, or hell… the one with the filthy sex.

He wouldn’t have it any other way… Or, on second thought…

“Pressing down on your tongue, producing generous amounts of spit…” He could feel it already, his fingers getting wetter, easier to move in Goro’s mouth…
”So much of it I wouldn’t even have to bother with lube, as soon as I will pull out my dick from your mouth, to make you happy again, just like I did yesterday. I love that you are such a self-sufficient hole, Goro…” Akira knew he was threading dangerous grounds here, dehumanizing his perfect Goro like that… but right now, with Goro’s mouth full of fingers, pardon, cock, and spit, Goro wasn’t really in a position to complain, so Akira thought he might as well use the opportunity.

“But because coffee is astringent and dries out your mouth, we would need to stop that precious well of liquid from dwindling. Make sure not a drop is wasted, for example by you letting it drip on the bedsheet… so I will ask you to be good for me once again and keep in that spit for me. And if you manage to do so, I will use my hands to make you come, right now. Put my fingers inside your ass and fuck you with them, just the way you like it. Just the way you imagined it to be, in that writing that led us to be together… doesn’t that sound nice?”

It did, because he felt Goro sucking in his breath and holding onto all that spit, keeping his mouth a steady supply for all the nice things yet to come. Akira’s perfect fucktoy, his useful lube dispenser, here to save the day and earn himself an orgasm Akira was only too glad to provide him with. Also…

“And that’s how it should sound like, if you want to enjoy a cup of coffee and take in all the intricate details of it’s flavor. Take a sip and suck in some air simultaneously. If it sounds like a greedy mouth full of spit looking forward to an orgasm… courtesy of the charming barista who hand-poured you that coffee you are going to sip on while you get your ass fingered — you are doing it exactly right. And on first try, too. Why did I know you were going to be a natural at this, Goro…?”

11/5

Back in class

Shit. It was all too fucking hot. He was sitting in class, his fingers felt like they were getting squished by Goro’s ass, his dick a leaking waterpipe wrapped in the dripping wet rag that once was his underwear… he’d never felt more disgusting… he’d never felt more horny. Or alive.

Fuck… Why aren’t you here, Goro? I want to bend you over that fucking table right now…

He wasn’t in his mind anymore to keep reading, sentence for sentence, because he hadn’t even gotten to any explicit part yet, there weren’t any fingers or genitals in anyone’s ass at this point, just fingers in a mouth, this was all still completely innocent by common definitions — so he was horrified of what else his mind would come up with, as soon as Goro’s writing got to the explicit parts. At least for as long as he was sitting here, in class.

“I heard one person died once, just like him, in class, having an allergy attack after eating an octopus sandwich from the cafeteria… The school covered it up, though. Didn’t want to risk losing their sponsorships.” Whispering. Everybody expected him to drop dead at this point.

This is it. Even in a state like this, he was still a phantom thief, so he knew an escape opportunity when he saw one.

Who the fuck puts octopus on a sandwich? He did. At least that’s what he told Kawakami before excusing himself to go see a doctor and tell Morgana to please stay with Ann, because he wasn’t feeling well and had to go to Takemi immediately — but it wasn’t anything bad, please don’t worry, she will fix me right up. He put his bag in front of his pants and left.

By the time he arrived in Shibuya he was even a little bit proud of himself, for how he’d managed the situation, coming out of this precarious situation more or less unscathed, besides the fact he would have to do his laundry by himself this time… or maybe just throw his underwear away.

11/5

During school in Mementos

He wasted no time entering Mementos, and as soon as he did, he was overwhelmed by a raging need for Goro again. That made sense, he had felt that on occasion, this place of the human subconscious excavating his own desires.
…So much of it he just sat on the next bench, took out his dick and started going to town.