Work Text:
Ren's never been much of a fan of parties and social gatherings that consist of more than five people. But it's Haru's birthday and he'd never hear the end of it if he'd stayed coped up in his attic, which is precisely why he's looking for a certain someone to annoy right now after having exchanged birthday greetings with a radiant Haru.
Ren just barely evades getting pulled into another dance battle. He stealthily slips into the corridor to the quieter areas that aren’t thrumming with life.
Poking his head into the kitchen, Ren can’t suppress a snort. Dough is sticking to the ceiling and a seemingly sober Yusuke is trying to detangle Sumi's hair out of a mixer.
He takes out his phone to eternalize the image before bemusedly leaning against the door frame.
"Hey guys. Have you seen Akechi?"
"Senpai! When did— ow !" Sumi's happy chirp cuts off into a wince when she tries to turn her head into Ren’s direction, probably making everything worse.
Ren doesn’t know how they got into this situation in the first place, but if he’s honest, he also doesn’t really want to know.
Yusuke frowns as best as he can with a moustache of whipped cream right under his nose. "Hold still, Yoshizawa-san. Otherwise I won't be able to deconstruct this particularly complex installation."
"I'm trying my best!” She offers Ren a sheepish smile. "Sorry for that, senpai. Anyway, we've been looking for you! Where were you when the party started?"
"Sojiro made me stay late and clean up before he let me go. Do you, uhm," Ren vaguely points towards them, "need help with that?"
"Nah, we're good. Aren't we?" Yusuke gives a serious nod. "We'll be out in a few minutes. You go and— ouch! Be gentle, Yusuke! You go and look for Akechi-senpai. I've last seen him upstairs."
"Thank you, Sumi."
She hollers his name again before he can take his leave. "You look really cute, by the way! There's no way he'll resist you!"
More bemused than embarrassed, Ren shakes his hand fondly. "I'll check on you guys later. Don’t destroy her kitchen any more than you already did.”
Sumi's been trying to get him and Akechi together for a few months now. Aside from Haru, she's the only person immune to Akechi's death glares that lie dormant beneath the handsome and polite facade of a responsible vice president the entire university has fallen for.
It’s not like Ren isn’t immune to Akechi’s charm. But that's a different story because while they keep up a respectable rivalry in their courses that overlap they're actually close friends behind doors. Bickering, arguing, laughing. It took Ren a long time to get Akechi to loosen up and convince him it's alright if he does that terribly unattractive snort around him whenever he laughs too much and no, I don’t think any less of you now that I know you bite your ice cream, but Akechi's warmed up to him significantly, often falling into the role of playing the protective senpai without noticing.
It’s rather amusing calling him out on it to watch him splutter and try to explain his actions.
Sometimes Ren thinks there's more in Akechi's gaze - that he isn't the only one imagining how it'd feel like to twine their fingers when they’re sitting only a few inches apart in the train, to mold their lips together when they’re alone in the library and too tired to continue studying, but not wanting to leave just yet.
Ren's never been able to build up the courage to tell Akechi he's crushing on him. Love is a strong word, though he has little doubt the warmth pooling in his gut whenever he sees Akechi could turn into something solid.
But he’s too afraid of all the consequences that could come with confessing. Negativity has always outweighed positivity in that type of decision making, and Ren doubts this party will help because he neither drinks for courage nor for enjoyment.
It's wishful thinking at the end of the day.
Most likely he'll see other people draped around Akechi, unable to resist the magnetic charm that garnered him quite the fanclub and the goodwill of professors, and Ren will be even more heartbroken, but his legs already carry him through Haru's large mansion with the intent to at least find and greet him.
His friends always tell him he’s become a bit of a masochist since he started hanging out with Akechi. Maybe they‘re right.
And if Akechi already looks occupied from afar, Ren can simply confirm his fears and safely retreat to not make things weird anyway.
A flash of vibrant red catches his attention. Ann, he remembers. She's wearing a gorgeous red dress Ren helped her pick out upon endless hours of pleading and bribing from her side - he hasn't seen her since first arriving here, immediately pulled in by a crowd of drunk and dazed people. Ann usually flutters across all rooms and floors with the speed of light to catch up on gossip and nurture her connections which makes her a little difficult to get hold of, but he’d recognize that dress anywhere.
And if anyone knows where Akechi is, it’s probably Ann.
Except Ren doesn't really make it towards her.
Hands suddenly grab him out of nowhere. Yelping, he crashes into a solid chest. Panic rises like bile and Ren thrashes heavily for a few seconds before a velveteen, all too familiar chuckle that's just a tad too sweet to be presumptuous graces his ear.
"Sen— Akechi?" He squeaks, slowly ceasing his struggles. Now that Ren isn’t fighting for his life anymore, he’s able to make out just who his supposed abductor is.
Truly enough, he's looking up into mesmerizing pools of red that almost seem to glint in the darkness the barely lit hallway has cloaked them in. Akechi looks- of course he looks good. Ren’s throat immediately dries. His hair is in the usual ponytail, and he sports a tight, black shirt that hugs everything a little too nicely but that's not what Ren is focused on.
He's a lot more concerned about their proximity - or rather, lack of - and how the arms that are holding Ren close dive lower to wrap around his waist, effectively trapping him in.
"Amamiya-kun," Akechi god to honest purrs.
Ren knows he hasn't drunk anything other than water in the last hour, but this makes him wonder if someone spiked his drinks and he‘s actually more drunk than his own perception lets on.
"Uhm, hi. Can I ask what you are doing, Akechi?” Ren tries to pry his arms away, but Akechi doesn't budge an inch. Tightens his hold, really, presses them even closer together that Ren feels like he can count all of Akechi's freckles individually if only the oxygen in his brain wouldn't be declining so rapidly.
Akechi hums. It seems like he's inspecting Ren, as if looking for something other than the redness Ren’s pretty sure must be rapidly developing on his face. There's a wet sound when Akechi parts his lips and Ren's nose scrunches at the displeasant smell.
“Call me senpai,” Akechi says, articulation slower than anything Ren’s ever heard of him. “You never do that. Why do you never do that?”
"Ake-”
Akechi's eyes narrow dangerously and Ren’s jaw automatically snaps shut.
He doesn't have a single idea on what's going on but his heart beats too fast to either come up with a snarky reply or try to understand the odd request in the first place. So he clears his throat, tries to give them both a little bit of space by leaning as far back as he can.
"Alright. What are you doing, senpai ?"
Akechi’s expression brightens like someone managed to get a broken bulb to work.
"Isn't it obvious? I'm hugging you," Akechi drawls, destroying all of Ren's hard earned efforts by pressing a hand into his upper back to squash him back in.
That's the exact problem. They’ve never hugged before, never did anything more than that one time they held hands. Hell, they haven’t been able to look each other straight in the eye for an entire week and Sumire still teases them both about it.
But here they are, as tightly interwoven as some of the couples he’s seen on the dancefloor.
The revelation hits him when Akechi moves his head lazily, smudging their cheeks together.
What he perceived as bad breath is actually mixed wirh an unmistakable undertone of alcohol.
Ren chuckles morbidly to himself. This explains everything. They’re at a party with more drunk people than sober and of course Akechi is drunk.
"How much did you have, senpai?"
A weight falls off him. This is alright. Akechi’s arms around his torso and Akechi’s lips near his cheek are alright because Akechi doesn’t know what he’s doing, nor does he have any control over it.
Disappointment tries to replace what little concern remains. Ren bites his lips. He has absolutely no right to feel this way. He shouldn’t be moping about Akechi’s unapologetic affections not being real.
What he should be doing right now is not feeling sorry for himself and rather help Akechi in his current state so that the other doesn’t run into any trouble or does something he might regret, even if it means getting his heart dissected in the process.
He just happens to be a random target of Akechi’s drunkenness. There were probably others before him, too.
At least the short jabs of pain at that thought helps him regain what composure he lost.
"Not much. Only a few," Akechi slurs.
Ren sighs. Now that he knows Akechi isn’t doing anything of this consciously, his limbs aren’t as frozen anymore. He reaches up to push a few strands of honey behind his ear. Akechi freezes a little before leaning into his hand, chest rumbling with content.
Flushed cheeks and unfocused, maroon eyes stare back at Ren, though they’re streaked with an emotion Ren can’t and will not decipher in this very moment in this specific context.
He’s already allowing himself more than he should.
Unable to bear the heavy weight of Akechi’s gaze any longer, Ren averts his eyes. Which kind of turns out to be a mistake because Akechi takes this as an invitation, pushing his nose against his throat to nuzzle into his neck.
Ren dies only a little bit.
“I’m surprised you drank anything in the first place,” he mutters. More as an attempt to distract himself from the hot breath fanning directly into his neckline than to make actual conversation. “You’ve always said you hated alcohol. And to think you’re a— fucking cuddly drunk.”
The world must hate Ren.
Akechi only hums low in his throat, the vibration sending a shiver down Ren’s spine. They’re way too close, but despite his earlier resolve, Ren remains in Akechi’s embrace, painfully aware of the sole condition that led to this entire situation in the first place.
This is the sweetest torture. Akechi will have no recollection of what he did by next morning, and Ren will continue to live with the memory of Akechi practically wrapped around him, chest against chest, hips knocking against each other whenever one of them does so much as shift.
Ren sighs. “I don’t think you only had a little bit.”
His statement is promptly proven right when something wet suddenly darts across his neck. Ren shrieks and tries to recoil, though there's no escape with how tightly Akechi is grasping him.
“Stop struggling,” Akechi grumbles against his skin, dragging his tongue lower to his clavicles.
"Akechi— senpai?" Ren stammers, squirming. The entire world spins into a dark array of colours when Akechi whirls them around to press Ren up against the wall next, lips latching directly onto where they had to briefly part.
"You smell good," Akechi murmurs mindlessly inbetween nips and Ren shudders as the words brush over his overheating skin. "I want a taste. Hold still."
Ren makes a concerned, high noise in lieu of actual words. Since his vocal chords are failing him the longer Akechi’s sucking at his skin, Ren makes use of his immobile hands to try and push his face away. But Akechi's surprisingly coordinated for someone so drunk, snatching his wrists and pinning them next to his head to growl disapprovingly at him.
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Ren weakly says, shrinking under the irrational ferocity in Akechi’s eyes.
“I’m hungry."
Ren’s face burns.
“Then get a snack. I'm, you know, definitely not something you can just— you can just eat.”
Ren can’t believe what he’s saying, but he’s dealing with a drunk Akechi and that leaves him with very few cards to play. The entire situation is so ridiculous that anything dumb or stupid he could do is probably nothing.
A corner of Akechi’s mouth twitches.
“Why not? Why can't I have you?”
Ren tilts his head on instinct when Akechi's mouth descends on him again. He whimpers softly, clutches at Akechi’s collar when the other starts to suck on a particularly sensitive spot, but his own sound makes him jerk awake.
God, what is he doing? Taking advantage of Akechi like this. He should stop it. Really push him away because there’s no way Akechi’s a match for him in his current state, even if the other visits the gym more often than he did. But- Ren hisses when hands suddenly dip under his shirt.
Akechi’s still wearing his gloves - of course he is, that stupidly attractive jerk - and the sensation of rough leather slowly gliding from his waist to his spine spindles a liquid heat in his stomach that makes it very hard for him to concentrate.
"You're drunk,” Ren repeats to himself. “God, you’re drunk. It’s good that you’re going to forget this.”
Akechi either ignores him or is too focused on his task of marking up his skin to really care about anything else and Ren feels like crying from frustration.
It’s only when hands dip suspiciously low that he’s hit with a burst of clarity. He grabs Akechi’s wandering wrists and wrestles himself out of his hold. There’s a displeased growl directly next to his ear, but Ren tries his best to pretend that his heart just didn‘t drop a few levels at the sound.
He’s fine. He’s doing great.
"Alright, that's enough. Let's get you some water."
It takes a few seconds of suspense and fear that he might have said something wrong that’ll only serve to set Akechi off, but to his surprise, the other actually dislodges himself. Clearly unwillingly, if his lingering touch and heavy stare is anything to go by, but he’s doing it.
Until Ren's swooped into an embrace again, that is.
"Don't want to,” Akechi mumbles.
Ren groans. "God— Ok. Ok, what do you want? What do I need to do for you to release me?"
The following silence only interrupted by the dull bass humming throughout the entire mansion indicates that Akechi is contemplating very heavily. As heavily as his mind can comprehend everything, at least.
It’s actually kind of adorable, now that Ren thinks about it. Akechi has this very concentrated expression on his face like he’s actively fighting his intoxicated state to give a coherent answer. Ren’s also pretty sure he’s never seen Akechi doing some sort of pout, which is sadly an information he’ll never be able to share unless he wants to explain its origin.
“Mhm,” is all Akechi ends up saying.
“Come on. Anything?”
A lazy smirk unfolds on Akechi’s face. "A kiss?"
He's drunk, Ren reminds himself. He's drunk and he doesn't know what he's asking for. What a cliche answer. Akechi didn't specify where though so he nods. He’ll take his chances because he’s unsure how long this mood of Akechi will last - he could be asking for something way more ridiculous if he were to decline. Or not end up asking at all.
"Alright, deal. A kiss.” Ren pats his cheek. “But we’ll do that later, alright? Let’s get you some water first.”
The first step they take apart from each other is also the first time Akechi’s incoordination finally shows. He bumps against the wall before tumbling into Ren, nearly sending them both flying to the floor.
Ren laughs and wraps an arm around Goro’s waist to support him better. Goro lets out a bemused huff and the sound twists Ren’s heart into splinters of guilt and happiness.
He will not risk losing what they have.
They make their way back to the main living room. A slower song is playing opposed to the heavy dubstep from before, so the makeshift dance floor has cleared up enough that Ren can see Makoto standing behind the bar at the far back.
Haru bribed her into wearing a maid dress, and Ren smiles when Makoto’s still mixing and delivering drinks with a hue of indignance on her face.
It honestly suits her.
There are already a few people looking at them, but Ren pays them no mind.
“Come on. It’s not that far anymore,” he says.
Akechi grunts. They go along the sides to not risk disrupting any pair on the dance floor. A few couches are leaned against the walls. Akechi eyes the unoccupied spots with no mild interest, and Ren adamantly stares ahead, hoping Akechi will not get any stupid ideas.
He might have jinxed himself because one moment he’s dragging Akechi across the room, the other he’s suddenly seated on his lap on a couch. When Ren finally realizes what happened, Akechi's already sneaked his arms around him again, effectively trapping him.
Ren pushes at his shoulders.
“Akechi! You said you-”
A not so gentle squeeze interrupts him. “Never said when. Now be still, Amamiya. Don't move."
"What? Why?"
"I can't let them see you,” Akechi explains, leaning back to pluck at Ren’s top as if the clothing's bare existence offends him. "We're out in the open now and you're wearing too little. Other people might see you like this."
Other people have already seen way too much of them, Ren wants to scream.
"Akechi— Senpai," Ren hastily corrects when Akechi's grip on him tightens, threatening to turn his legs into useless jelly, "I'm wearing normal jeans and a dark blouse with literally one button undone. This is hardly inappropriate. Have you seen how other people walk around?"
He‘s pretty sure he saw a few people shirtless and worse.
"But you're mine," Akechi drawls. He goes back to rubbing his cheek against Ren's throat as if to scent him. "You're mine so it's one button too much."
The blatant declaration of possessiveness has the back of his nape tingling. Akechi effectively ensnared him with both his body and words. Ren wouldn’t be able to leave even if he wanted to. He’s simply too weak.
He just hopes Akechi will forgive him in case he does remember.
Ren sighs, accepting his fate when Akechi's fingers move towards the button of his blouse. His thighs are starting to hurt a little, so he shifts, trying to find a more comfortable position on Akechi’s lap without killing his legs in the process.
A cool sensation across his chest makes him halt. It takes him a while for him to realize that instead of buttoning him up, Akechi is in the middle of fucking unbuttoning him, deft hands working down his blouse with suspicious switness.
Ren blushes furiously and clamps his own fingers around Akechi’s to stop him.
He gets an annoyed glare.
“I thought you complained how one button was too much?”
“But no one can see anything right now, can they?” Akechi lazily argues, briefly brushing his warm hands against Ren’s thigh before pulling him close by the hips. "I'll protect you. This is my view only. For me. My present." Akechi presses a kiss to his jaw, moving towards his ear. “My kouhai, My Ren."
What’s left of Ren’s defense and coherency just got annihilated.
There's no reasoning with Akechi when he's sober and adamant, but now Ren knows that when he's drunk, talking to him feels like talking against a wall.
Tangling his quivering hand within Akechi’s hair, Ren sighs, relenting to his fate as Akechi works bruise after bruise into him, too aware that they aren’t as secluded as earlier.
At least he can say he made out with the prince of their university in front of everybody else.
"Ren, thank god you’re here. I had these guys that were- Oh. Uhm. What happened?"
Ren grimaces at Makoto. He's tried to fix his appearance as best as he could without a mirror, but it seems like Akechi's left too many marks above his collarbone to be covered up if the way her eyes are raking over him are anything to go by. Not to mention Akechi found out pretty quickly that he's sensitive not only around his neck, but also when it comes to his hair.
Ren practically went limp and pliant each time Akechi would do so much as weave leather into his locks and pull a little. Akechi abused it a lot.
"Senpai happened," Ren grumbles, plopping down onto a seat. At least he's already done buttoning up his blouse to save her from an even more scandalizing view. God knows how his chest looks now. What Akechi did to him felt more inappropriate than the more obvious grinding Ren’s seen on the dance floor.
"Akechi?” Makoto furrows her eyebrows. “Wait, Ren, that's wonderful. You've been pining for ages."
She stops mixing whatever drink she’s making, leaning against the counter with a small smile on her face.
Ren huffs. “As if. You know how I already freak out when he does that thing where he opens doors for me and puts his hand on my lower back to gently push me inside even though we both know it's not needed and completely unnecessary? Imagine that but fifty times worse."
He never expected to go with his crush to Makoto when the time came where he needed someone to talk about it with, but she’s surprisingly understanding and level headed despite her not so high opinion of Akechi, offering objective advice while also reassuring Ren with an empathy she no doubt picked up from Haru and Ann.
Makoto tilts her head. "And I fail to see where the problem is?”
"He's drunk, Makoto! The only reason I could escape from… from everything in the first place is because he started to fall asleep from all the alcohol in his system. Actually," Ren says before Makoto can open her mouth, "it's the reason why I'm here. Bring him some water, you know. I wanted to do that earlier, but he got a little sidetracked. Just how many drinks did you even give him?"
“Wait, what?”
“He’s completely out of it. He’s touching and kissing me like he actually-”
“Ren,” Makoto sternly interrupts him. “Slow down for a second. The only thing I’ve been giving him is water.”
Ren’s rumbling thoughts come to an abrupt halt.
“Pardon?”
“Akechi isn’t drunk. He can’t be drunk unless he’s gotten alcohol from somewhere else, though he seemed very sober to me whenever I saw him.”
“Then his water is spiked,” Ren lamely explains, because the implications of what Makoto just said and the sheer amount of possibilities unfolding inside his brain at neckbreaking speed are terrifying.
“You know nobody wouldn’t be doing that unless they want Haru’s wrath.”
“You don't understand,” Ren says, shaking his head. “Akechi has to be drunk. He wouldn’t be touching me and telling me all sorts of things otherwise. His breath smelled like alcohol, for god's sake.”
“And I’m pretty sure you can recreate that if you’re desperate.” Makoto’s gone from confused to calculating to smiling bemusedly at him, like she already figured everything out and lives out her sadistic tendencies by watching him struggle. “Ren. I don’t know what’s going through Akechi’s head right now - wait, I actually do - but I can assure you he’s most likely not drunk. You should go check on him now.”
With that, Makoto turns away from him, turning back to the other people she’d been neglecting in favour of talking to him.
And Ren thinks.
He practically throws himself across Akechi’s lap. His senpai jerks once, eyes twitching, but he doesn’t move otherwise, still adamant on keeping his act up.
Good.
Straddling him, Ren crosses his arms. “You’re stupid,” he announces loudly. “You’re incredibly smart and gifted but just as dumb as I am when it comes to these things. Probably even dumber.”
And before Akechi can do anything - react, continue to play limp, whatever - Ren kisses him square on the lips.
And god is it everything he wanted and more.
He feels Akechi’s hand twitch by his side as if he can’t decide whether to go give in or not, but when Ren chuckles and tries to pry his tongue in between Akechi’s soft lips, hands shoot up to yank at his curls.
“Getting insulted the moment I open my eyes,” Akechi dazedly murmurs. "What a way to wake up." He tilts Ren’s head back to kiss him at a deeper angle than before. Ren’s only too happy to let him.
How much sooner could they have been doing this if he weren't this insecure and Akechi not this extra?
Ren’s lungs are the first to give out. He pulls back, smiling breathlessly when Akechi grumbles in displeasure. It’s offset by the tender blush decorating his entire face.
It’s the first time Akechi actively blushed his entire evening, Ren realizes.
“You deserved it,” he says.
“It worked.” Akechi grins. "I got my kiss."
“And it also would have worked out if you would have confessed to me like a normal person instead of letting me stir in a nightmare of unrequited feelings.”
Akechi’s fingers find their way into the dip of his hips.
“I'd apologize, but I definitely do not regret it. You look very cute when you don’t know what’s going on.”
Before Ren can give a dignified response, Akechi’s grip suddenly tightens and he’s pressed into the couch next. Ren’s swallows at the effortless demonstration of strength.
“And,” Akechi says, smirking like a devil incarnate as he hovers above Ren, “I wasn’t kidding when I said that I was hungry.”
They forget they're in public until a furiously blushing Makoto and a smug Haru have to pull them apart.