Archive of Our Own ^beta

February wasn’t an easy time for either of them. For Akira, February served as a reminder of losing Goro, reminding him of what he considered to be his failures. And for Goro, well…

February forced him to acknowledge his mistakes. It forced him to remember Kurusu, Joker, the boy Goro tried so hard to forget. Many Februaries passed without reaching out to him, another year of letting Kurusu think he was dead.

But that was the past.

Things are different after seven years of dating. February no longer brings guilt or pain, but Akira and Goro are noticeably clingier this time of year. After one February tore them apart, staying away becomes increasingly more difficult.

So, after returning from a long shift at the prosecutor’s office, Goro wants nothing more than to crawl into his boyfriend’s arms and fall asleep on the couch, or maybe even crawl between his legs and give him the sweetest, most romantic blowjob he can manage. But Akira is nowhere to be found, confirmed by Morgana waking from his nap on the back of the couch.

“Hey, Crow,” the cat greets with a kitty yawn. “Is Joker with you?”

“Unfortunately not. He must be working late.”

“Or he’s picking up dinner.”

Working as a shadow operative, Akira doesn’t exactly have a fixed schedule. He’ll sometimes be summoned into the office just before midnight, not to return until the early morning hours. Still, Goro doubts Akira would willingly work on the first night of February. He’s likely just finishing up paperwork.

“I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”

Morgana settles into a loaf position while he waits, but Goro isn’t too keen on standing around. He marches to the bedroom and carelessly tosses his coat on the bed, scouring for one of Akira’s jackets to wear instead. Preferably something that smells like him, something warm Goro can snuggle into while he spreads his legs and preps himself for his boyfriend’s arrival—

Flipping through Akira’s vast selection of sweatshirts, Goro pauses when he stumbles on a jacket he’s never seen before. Is it new? It certainly doesn’t look new. It’s a gym jacket, the upper half of a tracksuit Goro hopes Akira got for free, because it’s utterly hideous. Akira is known to commit fashion crimes on occasion—his graphic t-shirt announcing he proudly “eats ass” is proof enough of that fact. But this is where Goro draws the line. 

He yanks the garment off the rack and immediately recoils from the stench. Did Akira find this thing in a dumpster?

In Goro’s attempt to get the jacket as far away from his nose as possible, something falls out of one of the pockets and tumbles onto the floor. Goro blinks, dropping the jacket as he bends down to pick it up. It’s a small box, barely larger than the palm of his hand, a crushed velvet that has Goro’s curiosity piquing. It’s probably Akira’s Valentine’s gift. Goro should be a good boyfriend and not spoil the surprise. 

…Would a quick peek really hurt? It’ll help Goro get a grasp on what he should get for Akira. All he has now is a big cat plushie Akira pointed out in Akihabara last month. If Akira got him something expensive, it would make Goro a bad boyfriend not to match it. 

So he carefully opens the box, and what he finds immediately causes him to drop the box.

“Shit!”

Goro scrambles to catch it before the box and the ring inside can hit the floor. A ring. Goro double checks to make sure he’s not hallucinating, closing the box before opening it again. The ring (the! ring!) is flashy without being over-the-top, decorated with just enough gems for Goro to flaunt on his hand. A black, circular jewel stares up at him, twinkling beneath the bedroom lights atop its gold band. Accentuated beneath it is a row of little white diamonds connecting in a V shape.

It’s perfect.

“Morgana!” Goro clutches the box as he sprints into the living room. He has to tell someone about this.

“What? What?!” Morgana’s clearly startled by the sudden outburst, if his poofed up tail is anything to go by.

“He wants to marry me!”

“Huh? Who does?”

“Akira! Akira wants to marry me!”

Goro plops down on the floor beside the couch and places the open box before him. Morgana jumps down to get a closer look.

“Joker? I thought you were already together?”

“We’re dating, Morgana. We’re not married.”

“What’s the difference?”

“What’s the difference?!” Goro can’t believe he has to explain the concept of marriage to a cat! “I’d be his husband instead of his boyfriend. We’ll have a tax deduction, and a shared bank account! He’ll have to get a lawyer if he ever wants to leave me!”

“Is…that a good thing?”

“It means he wants to spend the rest of his life with me!”

“Wasn’t that obvious already?”

“Possibly. But this is physical proof of such.” Goro’s fingers tremble brushing over the gemstone. Does he dare try it on? “There was always a potential of him changing his mind, or him deciding I’m not good enough. But now…”

Goro slips the ring out of the box. It’s even prettier up close.

“He wants to marry me…”

Goro slides the ring onto his finger, and it takes everything in him to not burst into tears. He’ll never wear gloves again!

“He wants to marry me.”

Goro lifts his hand so the ring twinkles in the light. Even Morgana must understand the beauty of the treasure, because he releases a small ‘ooo.’

“Akira, perfect, handsome, loving Akira wants to be mine. Fuck. I just want to be his husband already.” Goro lights up with a realization then, his eyes widening. “He’s planning to propose on Valentine’s Day! Morgana! He’s going to propose!”

“Valentine’s Day? Is that the day Haru and Lady Ann buy me fatty tuna?”

“Yes, two weeks from now. Shit, he must be so nervous.”

“Why would he be nervous?”

“Proposing is a big deal.” Goro bites his lip as he stares at the ring. “And marriage isn’t something we’ve discussed in great detail. I’ve considered asking myself, but… I was never sure if marriage was something he wanted. How cowardly of me. Of course Joker wouldn’t let fear of rejection hold him back.”

Akira loves him enough to take a risk. Goro just wants to…

“EEE!” he squeals, falling onto his back and flailing his legs like a schoolgirl. Morgana has witnessed enough of his embarrassing moments already. He really couldn’t care less. “I love him! I love him, and he wants to marry me! I want to marry him! What sounds better, Kurusu-Akechi or Akechi-Kurusu?”

“Uhh…”

“And the ring. Oh, it’s so perfect. He knows me so well, dammit. That bastard has impeccable taste.”

“Joker does have good taste in treasure.”

It’s at that very moment that a key jingles at the front door. Goro sits up in a flash, throwing his hands behind his back as Akira steps into their apartment with a bag of takeout.

“Oh,” Akira frowns. “When I heard you squealing I thought you might be fingering yourself.”

“F-fingers?! I’m not doing anything involving fingers!”

Akira eyes him warily. “You alright?”

“P-perfectly fine.” Goro grabs the velvet box and shoves it in his back pocket as he stands. Shit, he’s still wearing the ring. He’ll need to… hide it somehow. “I missed you.”

“I missed you t—”

Akira’s cut off by Goro latching their lips together, his wrists crossing lazily behind Akira’s neck so he can slip the ring off his finger. He sneaks it into his pocket, but he doesn’t break the kiss there. Why would he when Akira is so warm, so perfect? Goro deepens the kiss, licking hard into his future fiancé’s mouth. It’s messy now, lapping up the other’s taste with the fervency of teenage virgins. They saw each other just this morning, yet you’d think they’d been separated for years with the way they inhale each other like long lost lovers. And when Akira breaks the kiss, Goro chases after him, wholly unsatisfied with the brief time their mouths spent pressed together.

“What’s gotten into you?” Akira chuckles after indulging Goro in a peck. A peck!

“It’s February,” Goro pouts. “And I love you.”

His future fiancé— no. His future husband’s breath hitches at the words. Goro doesn’t say it as often as he should, and fuck was he stupid for that. I love you, he’s practically overflowing with the feeling. I love you I love you I love you

“I love you,” Goro repeats. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Honey.” Akira cups the side of Goro’s face, and Goro immediately nuzzles into it. “Oh, Goro. You’re glowing.”

“Kiss me.”

“I’m gonna kiss your face off.”

“Are you?”

“I’m gonna make you see stars with how hard I kiss you.”

“Prove it then.”

“Gonna kiss you completely stupid.” Akira captures Goro’s bottom lip between his teeth, and Goro whimpers. “But I think we should have dinner first.”

Goro deflates when Akira releases his lip. “Dinner?”

“I’m gonna need it after the day I had. First Mitsuru tells me to look into what she thought was ‘potential shadow activity,’ then she finds out it was just a raccoon. I did all that work for nothing.”

“Was it the raccoon sneaking into a local supermarket?” Goro asks. “I was assigned the same case on suspicion of burglary, until we received a notice from animal control this morning. Perhaps if you’d texted me during your lunch break I could’ve saved you from wasting your time.”

“I did text you.”

“Pictures of your dick don’t count, Akira.”

Akira pouts. Goro can’t wait to marry him.

“Put dinner on the table,” Goro soothes, “And I’ll go change into something a little more comfortable.”

“Ew,” Morgana grumbles. “I’m going to my room.”

As the cat scampers off to his room (a room Akira soundproofed just for him, because he didn’t want to choose between living with his beloved cat or fucking Goro all over their apartment), Goro retreats to their shared bedroom with a wink. It’s honestly a relief they stopped when they did. The ring is still shoved in his back pocket, and it was only a matter of time before Akira started groping his ass. 

Valentine’s Day is only two weeks away. Goro can surely wait until then.

.

.

It’s eight days until proposal day, as Akira and Goro are snuggled up on the couch watching Wheel of Capitalism, when a knock sounds at the door.

“Ignore it,” Goro grumbles. Akira’s warmth disappears as he untangles their limbs, nearly tripping himself as he crawls over Goro’s body.

“What if it’s important?”

“More important than me?” 

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Akira swoops down to peck Goro’s lips, and he adjusts his sweatpants to hide his arousal from being pressed against Goro’s ass for so long.

A second loud, brutish knock sounds at the door. “Yo, ‘Kira! You in there?!”

“Coming!” Akira shouts over Goro’s groan. Things were just starting to get good. Akira was slowly grinding against Goro’s ass, and Goro had guessed three of the Wheel puzzle answers before any of the contestants. Sakamoto will burn in hell for disrupting their domestic bliss.

“Dude!”

“Hey, man,” Akira grins as he pulls Ryuji into a bro hug. “What’s up?”

“You know how Sumi was cleanin’ out our closet? We’ve got tons of shit to donate now. Oh, and I can finally take back that jacket I loaned you.”

Akira tilts his head. “Jacket?”

“Y’know!” Ryuji glances at Goro before lowering his voice into a whisper. Well, as much of a whisper as Ryuji is capable of. “My track jacket. The one I gave you a few weeks ago so she wouldn’t find it.”

Akira lights up with realization, his face tinting a faint shade of pink. “Oh. That jacket. I’ll… go grab it for you.”

As Akira disappears into their bedroom, Ryuji steps further into the apartment.

“Hey ‘Kechi. Hey Mona.”

“Sakamoto,” Goro acknowledges.

“Yo, Wheel of Capitalism! I love this game!”

Ryuji squints at the puzzle on screen. The letters spell _UCKET LIST.

“Fucket list!”

The contestant solves the puzzle. The answer is bucket list.

“Aw, close. Do you guys have any orange juice?”

“...No.”

Akira (thankfully) chooses that moment to return, but Goro’s momentary relief is cut short when he spots the thing in his boyfriend’s hand.

The ugly, mustard yellow gym jacket with Goro’s engagement ring tucked into its pocket. Panic surges through him as he springs into a seated position. Akira thought to take it out beforehand, right?

“Hell yeah! You’re a lifesaver, dude!” Ryuji snatches the jacket out of Akira’s grip, getting his disgusting fingers all over the hideous jacket housing Goro’s beautiful, luxurious ring. “And you didn’t get any stains on it either! Nice!”

“None that weren’t already there,” Akira beams. “Find a good hiding spot for it, alright?”

“I know just the place.”

Ryuji says his goodbyes before scurrying out of their apartment with the detestful jacket in hand.

“That was…Sakamoto’s jacket?” Goro asks with the fluidity of a robot with a broken circuit board.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. He asked me to hang onto it so Sumi wouldn’t throw it out.”

“And why was Sakamoto concerned about losing such an abominable excuse for clothing?”

“Um, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but…” Akira nervously glances at the door, as though checking to make sure Ryuji isn’t still lingering on the other side, “Ryuji’s planning to propose.”

Goro nearly recoils hard enough to break his neck. “Propose?” 

Propose?! Right around the same time Akira plans to propose?! That blonde loudmouth plans to steal their spotlight?!

“Crazy, right? He’s been hiding the ring in the pocket of that jacket since he got it.”

…The ring…

…The ring that Sakamoto bought…

…The ring Sakamoto bought for Sumire…

…That was the ring in the jacket pocket?!

“Ahaha!” Goro laughs. “Sakamoto plans to propose to Sumire! How sickeningly cute.”

Akira didn't buy that ring.

“Yeah, totally. Are you okay, honey?”

Akira doesn’t plan to propose to Goro. 

“I’m perfectly swell, darling! Let me guess, he plans to pop the question on Valentine’s Day?”

Akira doesn’t want to marry Goro.

“Sumi’s birthday actually. March 25th.”

Sumire’s birthday?! How utterly idiotic! An entire holiday dedicated to love is right there! It must be some kind of alibi… so Sakamoto doesn’t have to remember the anniversary of their engagement! As long as he remembers Sumire’s birthday, he’ll be in the clear! Akira would never forget such an important date!

Except Akira isn’t proposing. Because Akira doesn’t want to get married.

“Ahahaha!” Goro repeats louder this time. “The institution of marriage is such a fickle thing, don’t you agree, Akira? Of course those two would buy into it, the children they are.”

“...I wouldn’t say a declaration of love is fickle.”

“A declaration of love? Ha! They’re not any more in love than we are, and we’re not getting married.”

“...I guess we’re not.”

“Wait, Crow, I thought you wanted—”

Goro slaps a hand over the cat’s snout before he can finish that sentence.

“Honey, it’s okay if—” Akira cuts himself short when his phone pings in his pocket, making haste to pull it out. “Shit. It’s work. I have to go.”

“Right now?”

“There was potential shadow activity detected in Akihabara. I have to be ready before the dark hour.”

He approaches the couch to give Goro a fleeting peck on the lips. ‘Can’t they find someone else to do it?’ Goro wants to ask, but ultimately decides against it. He wants to be alone right now. As alone as he can be with a talking cat for a roommate.

“Be careful,” he says instead.

“Always am.”

With their final goodbyes and shared I love yous, Akira flees their apartment to go save the city, and Goro collapses on the couch, smothers his face with a pillow, and lets out a blood-curdling scream.

“That was weird…” Morgana yaps at his side, but Goro doesn’t give the cat the time of day. He just presses the pillow harder against his face.

“Hm dsnntt t mrry mh.”

“What?”

“He doesn’t want to marry me!” Goro launches the pillow across the room, the cushion bouncing off the wall with an anticlimactic thud. “That ring is for Yoshizawa! What a fucking joke! A black ring— Black?! Does he not know her at all?!”

“Joker bought a ring for Violet?”

“Sakamoto bought the ring! Sakamoto of all people is going to propose! Ha! They’re going to get married before us! They’ve only been together for two years— two! That’s nothing! That’s a drop in the water for Akira and I! Seven years… Seven goddamn years and he still doesn’t want to marry me!”

Morgana’s tail twitches while Goro catches his breath. “...What makes you think he doesn’t want to marry you?”

“Because… Because why would he? Why would he want to tie himself down to someone so jaded, someone so impatient and needy? He knows I might snap one day. Or his friends might wake up and decide they can no longer stand the sight of me. I can’t do that to him…”

“Crow… They’re your friends too, you know.”

“Does he want someone nicer? Someone less irritable, who doesn’t need to be coaxed to open up? Is that it? Does he want something easier?” 

“We both know he doesn’t want that.”

“Is he even proud to show me off? I’m the reason his parents don’t talk to him anymore, did you know that?”

“I don’t think you’re the only reason...”

“Marrying me would only make things harder for him! What the hell was I thinking? How could I be so selfish—”

“Crow! You’ve been together for seven years! Another god could take over the Metaverse and tell you you have to break up to save humanity, and he’d still find a way to make it work!”

With his pillow thrown across the room, Goro buries his face in his hands instead. “Seven years and I’m still dealing with stupid fucking abandonment issues. I’m so embarrassing.”

“Hey! You’re not embarrassing! Well, sometimes you are.”

Goro spreads his fingers to send the cat a glare. Morgana continues;

“You know Joker doesn’t think any of that! He likes how mean you are! It’s honestly kind of gross how much he does. And aren’t you two always showing each other off? Remember when you got kicked out of the shadow ops Halloween party?”

“If I’d known there was a dress code I would’ve covered up more.”

“I don’t think it was your clothes that was the problem.”

“You know how we get when tequila is involved.”

“I wish I didn’t.”

Goro sighs, wistfully reminiscing on a night of Akira’s hands all over his ass. “He enjoys being my boyfriend. That doesn’t mean he would enjoy being my husband.”

“Crow…” Morgana sounds tremendously disappointed in him. “I still don’t understand much about human marriage, but Joker would definitely enjoy being your husband!”

“You don’t know that.”

“Then why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“P-propose to Akira? I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“B-because..! He’s never mentioned wanting to get married before! If I make that assumption… It could tear our relationship apart! I mean, he’s Joker. Joker wouldn’t buy into contracts and laws just for the government to recognize our relationship. If he wanted to propose, he would’ve done it already.”

“...Have you ever mentioned wanting to get married?”

“Well, no but—”

“Yet you expect Joker to make that same assumption?”

“I believe I’ve demonstrated my desire for marriage in my body language.”

“Crow.”

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. What am I supposed to do? Subtly imply I want to get married until he takes the hint?”

“Yes!”

“And what if he doesn’t want to get married? What if I get my hopes up, just for him to reject me entirely?”

“Then… I don’t know! I’m just a cat!”

“I thought you weren’t a cat.”

“I’m cat-adjacent! And speaking from a cat’s perspective, you two are basically mates already. All that matters is that you’re together, right?”

Goro sighs. “I…suppose I’ll survive if he doesn’t want to get married.”

“That’s the spirit! Besides, you’re the grossest, mushiest, sappiest couple already. You don’t need a giant rock to prove that.”

“...You think we’re a better couple than Ryuji and Sumire?”

Morgana huffs. “Obviously.”

“And you think we’re a better couple than Ann and Shiho?”

“I mean, I guess—”

“Better than Haru and Makoto?”

“You’re the best couple I know! Jeez, stop interrogating me!”

Goro can’t resist a small smile. Morgana is right, he and Akira are a phenomenal pair—soulmates, even. Far superior to any of those other so-called couples in their circle. Sakamoto and Yoshizawa think they can challenge that simply because they’re getting married?! Ha! In their dreams.

Akira returns around two hours after midnight, jostling the bed as he crawls under the covers, but Goro hadn’t been sleeping well anyway. A relieved exhale warms his neck as Akira gets himself settled, Goro melting against the soothing heat.

“How’d it go?” he asks, keeping his voice low despite there only being two of them in the room.

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“I'll let it slide, just this once.” Goro cranes an arm back to stroke his fingers through Akira’s hair, and Akira nuzzles into it like a cat. “I take it the world isn’t doomed because you failed to stop a rogue shadow, correct?”

“You don’t have to worry about that. You would’ve been swooning if you saw how I worked that gun.”

“Would I?”

“Yeah. Would’ve been fanning yourself and everything.”

Goro snorts. “I think the adrenaline is rotting your brain.”

“Maybe. The rush is definitely still hitting me. I don’t think I can sleep yet.”

“Oh? I guess we’ll need to tire you out.”

Goro rolls his ass back in a slow, lazy circle, and Akira perks up like a dog having a tennis ball waved in front of its face.

“You sure? I don’t want to keep you up.”

“You expect me to leave you like this?” Goro pointedly grinds his ass against Akira’s crotch, his cock growing harder by the second. It must be the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“I mean, I could just jerk off while you sleep.”

“How romantic.”

“Right?” Akira says this completely seriously. “But if you’re down… I’d never be opposed to fucking you.”

Their motions are sleepy and lethargic. It’s nothing that would actually get them off, fitting together just for the sake of being close. A sex appetizer as Akira would crudely call it. Just imagining him saying something so juvenile makes Goro smile, craning his head to press a chaste kiss to Akira’s lips. 

I want to marry you.

“I want to be with you forever,” he says instead. A bit of a cop out, but it’s still quite the confession on Goro’s part. Is he being too blatant? Will Akira easily catch on?

“Fuck,” Akira moans with an eager nod. “You’ll always be mine, Goro. We’ll stay like this forever. Exactly like this.”

“...Exactly like this?” 

Nothing more, nothing less?

“I mean, I’d like to — hah — get inside you at some point.”

Goro snorts. “Then quit stalling and get to it.”

Akira pulls away to scour for the lube in their nightstand, so dedicated to his search that the fool ends up rolling out of bed and tumbling onto the floor with an oof. Goro laughs at the clumsy display, but Akira appears to be unfazed, stumbling to his feet and grinning as he holds up the lube bottle.

Goro needs to marry him. 

More urgently, Goro needs Akira inside of him. 

“I’m getting cold,” he purrs. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

.

.

Valentine’s Day passes with Akira and Goro exchanging an exorbitant amount of gifts, which leads to a night of fucking that lasts well into February 15th. While no proposal occurs that day, Goro oh-so-subtly mentions his ring size in case Akira is interested in buying him jewelry for White Day.

No proposal occurs on White Day either, but Akira gives Goro enough dick to last a lifetime.

On March 25th, Sumire’s birthday, Ryuji throws his soon-to-be fiancé a surprise party. Which is stupid, because Sumire knows it’s her birthday, and thus, she will either deduce that Ryuji has a surprise planned for her or she’ll assume he forgot entirely. Neither are necessarily good answers.

“They’re almost here! Everyone hide!”

Flipping off the lights, Ryuji jumps behind the couch (he probably could’ve just walked), and the rest of their friends take turns squeezing behind furniture and under tables. Goro glances around (he doesn’t know Ryuji and Sumire’s apartment well enough to have mapped out a hiding spot beforehand), but his investigation is cut short when Akira grabs him by the shirt collar (did Goro do all that ironing for nothing?) and pulls him into a tight crevice between the fridge and the kitchen counter.

“Seriously?” Goro whisper-shouts. “We can’t both fit here!”

It’s such a small space, even Morgana would feel claustrophobic.

“Just squeeze close to me.”

“How the hell do you expect me to do that?!”

“Just… Move this leg—”

“Akira— Ow!”

“No, this way—”

“That’ll cut off my circulation—!”

“Here, let me…” Akira lifts Goro by the hips to bring him onto his lap, maneuvering Goro’s legs so he’s straddling Akira’s thighs. “There. Perfect hiding spot.”

“And how the fuck will we get out?”

“...We’ll deal with that when we get there.”

“Akira.”

Akira looks up at him sheepishly. He’s wearing a white, long sleeve button up with a black tie. It’s rare for Akira to wear ties when he’s not working, but he decided to dress up to see his best friend get engaged. He looks nice. Goro runs a fingernail down his chest before grabbing his tie in a loose grip. In this cramped position, a gentle tug brings Akira close, their lips slotting together lazily.

Keys jingle outside the apartment, but neither take it as a cue to pull apart. The kiss deepens, Akira’s hands landing on Goro’s hips to grind his body down against his lap, his small groan quickly captured by Goro’s tongue.

“—And that’s why the flat moon theory has some merit to it.”

The door opens, Futaba’s voice flooding the apartment as she guides Sumire inside. Goro tries to stand up, but Akira’s hands on his hips paired with being shoved into a shoebox worth of space makes it impossible to do so.

“Woah, it’s dark in here.”

“Ryuji must not be home yet.” Sumire’s voice is noticeably disappointed. One of them must be fumbling for a lightswitch.

“Akira.”

Akira innocently hums against Goro’s mouth. ‘Do you need something?’ the sound says.

The lights flickering on is what snaps Akira back to the present. His mumbled ‘shit’ is drowned out by the party’s chorus of ‘surprise!’, and he clumsily attempts to free them both from their hiding spot. This results in Goro landing on his back on the kitchen floor with Akira laying between his spread legs, a position even more lewd than the one prior.

“Get off me!”

“Sorry, honey!”

Akira makes haste to stand up before anyone can catch them, holding out a hand to help his disgruntled boyfriend rise to his feet. Ann, Futaba, and Makoto stare at them, wholly unimpressed. The birthday girl herself didn’t seem to notice, luckily, as she’s too busy staring at Ryuji with hearts in her eyes.

“Pumpkin… I can’t believe you remembered my birthday!”

Ryuji beams. “I’d never forget, sugarplum.”

“But you forget so many things..! Like when you forgot to turn off the oven before going to work!”

“Honeymuffin… Your birthday is way more important to me than that.”

Goro groans at the display. He and Akira aren’t like that, are they?

Sumire pulls Ryuji into a kiss, and the ex Phantom Thieves break out into a chorus of awwws and so cutes. Even Akira, the backstabber he is, coos at the sight. Only Futaba appears as disgusted as Goro feels.

“I need a drink,” he mutters.

“Ooh, let’s pop the champagne!” Haru cheers.

Champagne, unfortunately, isn’t enough to get Goro drunk. So he drinks a lot of it, even as the thieves and their plus-ones gossip about work (as if most of them don’t work together already), and Goro clings to Akira the entire time because while he isn’t as drunk as he’d like to be, the alcohol is definitely hitting him, and he just wants to scoop up his boyfriend and his cat and go home. He’s been a good sport until now, offering the occasional quip about Akira’s recklessness at work or Morgana’s insatiable appetite, but pretending not to be miserable gets all the more difficult when Ryuji announces it’s time to open presents.

He gestures to a giant pile of presents Sumire somehow hadn’t noticed until now, the sheer size of it immediately causing her to gasp.

It’s sweet, admittedly, and Goro actually cracks a smile watching her unwrap the thick yoga mat he got her. He’s tired of her old mat sliding all over the place when they do their stretching routine.

She opens her gift from Ryuji (a pre-paid couple’s spa trip), a French press from Akira, a pack of scrunchies from Ann, and a lottery ticket Morgana found in the trash. While she’s busy thanking Yusuke for gifting her a painting of a squirrel, Ryuji clears his throat.

“There’s actually one more.”

“More? How could there be—”

Sumire’s skirt twirls as she spins around, and she, along with everyone besides Goro and Akira, gasps when Ryuji lowers onto one knee.

“Strawberry shortcake,” he starts, “These past few years have been the best of my life.”

Two years, Goro mentally corrects. They’ve been together two years.

“Every day with you is perfect, and it’ll only get perfecter once you’re my wife. You’re my everything, Sumi. I’m head over wheels for you.”

“Does he mean head over heels?” Makoto whispers.

“I’d have to be the biggest effin’ idiot on the planet if I didn’t put a ring on it! So, Sumire Yoshizawa, will you make me the happiest idiot on the planet by marryin’ me?”

“Yes!” Sumire cries, nodding her head so fast her glasses nearly fly off her face. “A million times yes!”

“For real?!”

Ryuji slips the ring onto her finger before flying to his feet to kiss his fiancé. The surrounding crowd goes wild, Ann whooping and hollering, Haru squealing and clapping her hands excitedly, Yusuke frantically drawing the scene in his sketchbook, Morgana meowing like there’s no tomorrow. Goro clings to Akira’s arm and buries his face in his shoulder. Akira looks so much like a groom tonight, with his white button up and black tie, so handsome. Goro could easily picture him standing at the altar, grinning from ear to ear watching Goro walk down the aisle.

“That’s gorgeous!” Ann gushes.

“I wanna see!” Shiho chimes.

The girls crowd around Sumire, followed by Haru and Makoto and the friends Sumire knows from work and gymnastics, all bouncing on their toes as she shows off the ring. The stone isn’t black at all. It’s small and pink and cut into the shape of a bow. The perfect ring for Sumire.

More importantly, it looks nothing like the ring Goro tried on.

…He must’ve been seeing things. The ring wasn’t his, so of course it would look different on him than it does on Sumire. He was blinded by his excitement and hallucinated the ring he wanted to see. Or Ryuji went out and bought a different ring once he realized a black stone was a terrible fit for Sumire. Akira is likely the one who advised him to keep searching. He has a good eye for that kind of thing.

“I did it, man,” Ryuji beams while Sumire is flooded in squeals and praises. He holds out his arms for a hug, and Akira promptly pulls him in.

“I knew you had it in you, Ryuji.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, dude! You already know you’re my best man, right?”

“I’d be honored.”

“There’s no one else I’d rather it be.” Ryuji gives Akira a final friendly pat on the shoulder before pulling away. “No offense, Akechi.”

“None taken.” Goro doesn’t even look their way. He’s zeroed in on Yusuke now frantically sketching Sumire’s ring, Futaba scrolling her phone trying to figure out how much it was worth, Morgana ogling the treasure with wide eyes. Ann snapping pictures for her Immediagram, Haru lifting Sumire’s hand to see the jewels in the light, Makoto insisting on finding them the best wedding planner…

This is going to be her life for the next few months, isn’t it? All her coworkers and friends fawning over her ring, strangers she meets at checkout lines and subway platforms complimenting the accessory. You’re so lucky, they’ll tell her. Your fiancé has incredible taste. He must really love you! Then Sumire will get to gush about the man she loves. She’ll get to flaunt the relationship she’s had for two fucking years, and everyone around her will be so jealous—

“Sheesh, it’s like a boss rush over there,” Futaba whistles as she escapes the crowd of girls and Yusuke. “Congrats, Ryuji. You’re finally becoming a man! I’m surprised!”

“W-what’s surprisin’ about that?!”

“I mean, I always assumed Akira and detective boy over here would be the first to get married.”

Goro grinds his teeth together. “And why’s that?”

“You’ve been together for like a jillion years—”

“Not being married doesn’t mean we love each other any less.”

Futaba grunts. “Talk about bridezilla.”

“Dude, when are you gonna tie the knot?” Ryuji prods, and Goro’s eyes immediately snap to Akira. This could finally be his chance to gain some intel. 

“Oh, um.” Akira is as red as a tomato, nervously glancing Goro’s way. “I… haven’t given it much thought.”

“Our relationship isn’t any of your business,” Goro snaps at Sakamoto, mostly to save his own dignity. He needs someone to take his anger out on, and Sakamoto is an easy target.

“Yeah, but. ‘Kira helped me out so much with my proposal. If he wanted me to return the favor……”

“You’d really be willing to share the spotlight? After you just proposed? Is this wedding not important to you at all?”

“You know what! I’m gonna go check on Sumi now!”

He turns and flees the vicinity with that.

Futaba stares owlishly at the couple. “I’m gonna go see if I can convince Inari to let me give him a whipped cream mustache.”

Following Ryuji’s footsteps, she leaves Akira and Goro alone to work out their issues.

…What the hell is Goro supposed to say to him? Actually I would like to get married. The sooner you propose the better. Akira wouldn’t buy that. He’d assume Goro is only saying it out of spite, that he wants to steal the spotlight in some petty act of revenge, that he’s jealous.

And yes, Goro is jealous, devastatingly so. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t genuinely want to get married.

“...Exciting, isn’t it?” he decides to say. “Who would’ve thought they’d be the first of us to get married.”

It should’ve been us. It should’ve been us. It should’ve been us.

Akira takes Goro’s chin into his hand to bring him into a kiss. A slow, passionate blend of lips, as magical as any other kiss they’ve shared. But Goro can’t help but think how much better every kiss, every touch, every action would be if Goro had a ring on his finger. If Akira pulled away and looked deeply into the eyes of his future husband instead.

“Consider this a test run,” Akira murmurs. “I’m sure it’s not the only wedding we’ll attend in the next few years.”

Right. Ann and Shiho are bound to get married, Haru and Makoto as well. And with how close Akira’s gotten with his shadow operative coworkers, it’s likely they’ll be invited to their weddings as well. It’s the first of many they’ll have to sit through, and Goro can’t even control his jealousy while watching a mediocre proposal. 

“Right.” A lump swells in his throat, but Goro quickly swallows it down. “A test run.”

.

.

Though Goro survives Sumire’s birthday party, the wedding festivities continue with a damn engagement party, this time with far more people present. Including the shadow operatives. Including Sumire’s parents and Ryuji’s mother. Including Sae fucking Niijima.

“I don’t know what I expected of an engagement party,” Sae mumbles as she nurses her peach wine. It’s clearly too sweet for her tastes, closer to a soda than any sophisticated drink, her face souring with every sip. “But I can’t help but feel slightly out of place not having a date with me.”

“Tell me about it,” Goro grunts, downing a significant amount of his equally sweet wine. He and his boss stand alone in his and Akira’s kitchen (because of course Akira would offer to host his best friend’s engagement party), watching couples cling to each other as they mingle with other couples. Akira is currently chatting away with his thieves, acting as the perfect host while Goro does nothing of the sort. Though a number of them work together, it’s rare for all of them to get together at the same time. Goro’s not about to force Akira to babysit his brooding boyfriend all night.

“Don’t pretend you’re not part of the problem,” Sae chides. “I’m sure it’ll be even worse when you two get married. Parties every Saturday night to announce you’re even more in love than you were last week.”

“We’re…not really thinking about anything like that right now.”

“Of course not. It’s unlike you to willingly share the spotlight. He knows that.” She smirks as she gestures Akira nodding along to some story Yusuke is dramatically retelling. “It must be killing him having to wait.”

“...You think he’s going to propose?”

“Do you honestly think he’s not?”

“I, well… It’s not as if he’s ever hinted at it.”

“You’re smart, Goro. You know how to read between the lines.”

Goro stares down at his peach soda disguised as an alcoholic beverage. What lines are there to read between?

“If I could have everyone’s attention…”

Sumire delicately clinks a spoon against her wine glass, but the commotion of the party carries on as usual.

“Yo!” Ryuji shouts over the chattering. “We’ve got an announcement!”

It takes all of Goro’s strength to conceal a grimace. What else could there possibly be to announce?!

“We’ve decided on a wedding date,” Sumire beams, followed by a harmony of curious sounds from the crowd. “July third… Ryuji’s birthday!”

“How romantic!”

“A summer wedding!”

“I simply cannot go a single second longer without depicting this on canvas!”

Sakamoto’s birthday? Are they absolute fools?! Do they not wish to reserve a day dedicated to their love, to create a new holiday to be theirs and theirs alone?

If Akira dared to suggest such a thing… Goro would question his boyfriend’s sanity. The anniversary of their first date is already a cherished day, but their wedding anniversary would be even more spectacular. They’d take the day off work, surprise each other with gifts, recite new vows to keep up with the progression of time. They’d be giggling throughout their date like the teenagers they never had the chance to be, and the sex— no, the lovemaking would be magical. The celebration wouldn’t last for only one night. Of course they’d throw a party to flaunt their relationship to their envious friends and coworkers. They would announce they’re even more in love than the year prior. They would remind everyone that no matter how “ strong” or “““healthy””” their relationships are, they will never, ever have what Akira and Goro have. 

…So maybe Sae was right that Akira and Goro are one of the insufferable couples here, but Goro should be allowed to be a little insufferable, as a treat. He’s keeping it all in his brain anyway. He’d be damned if he let Akira hear his thoughts about lovemaking. Whatever. This is all Akira’s fault anyway.

“Four months away,” Ryuji muses. “I can hardly believe this is all for real!”

“Four months is a short amount of time to plan a wedding,” Sumire admits bashfully. “So I’d like to thank Makoto-senpai for finding us such an incredible wedding planner! We want a simple wedding, but having someone work out the details is such a relief!”

A… simple wedding?

“I can’t effin’ wait, bumblebee.”

Simple?!

“It’s going to be amazing, sunflower!”

A wedding isn’t supposed to be simple. It’s meant to be an exhibit of love! A once in a lifetime opportunity to flaunt your relationship, to force everyone you know to grovel at your feet, to make them crave what they’ll never have—!

“While we’ve got your attention,” Sakamoto continues. “There’s somethin’ else I gotta announce.”

Oh, what now? Are they going to reveal they’re not having a wedding at all? That they’ll get married at city hall, take their marriage license, and get out as quickly as possible?

“I didn’t exactly keep it a secret, but… ‘Kira!” Ryuji turns to Akira with a grin, “You’re my best man, man!”

“I won’t let you down,” Akira grins back, still standing on the other side of the room where Goro can’t proudly show him off. What the hell is his problem? Offering their apartment for the night, running around to make sure everyone’s having a good time, not proposing to Goro? That psychopath—!

“On a similar note,” Sumire starts, visibly nervous. “I’d like to announce my maid of honor.”

The thought must’ve crossed Akira’s mind at some point, right? With all these wedding festivities, he’s surely considered what it would be like if they were the ones getting married. And yet… and yet….

“Goro-senpai!”

Goro blinks at the sound of his name. Sumire’s smile is almost blinding, and beside her Ryuji wears the smile a proud father would wear when acknowledging his son. At least Goro thinks it’s that type of smile. He doesn’t have much experience in that department.

“What?” he asks. He’d been too busy glaring daggers at his beloved boyfriend’s pretty face to pay attention.

“I’d like you to be my maid of honor!”

Her… what? 

“Me?”

“Yes!” Sumire bows so quickly Goro’s shocked she doesn’t break her back. “You’ve taught me so many things, senpai! How to be brave, how to stand up for myself, how to do advanced yoga poses! You’ve helped me become my own person..! O-of course Akira-senpai helped a lot with that too, but Ryuji already claimed him as his best man! Besides, it would be fitting if it were you, Goro-senpai. You’re…my best friend.”

“Sumire…”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to!” Sumire lowers her head in yet another bow. “But I would be honored if you decided to—”

“I’ll do it,” Goro interrupts, to which Sumire immediately springs up.

“You will?”

“Of course I will. You wouldn’t think I’d let Kurusu show me up like that, would you?”

“Oh, senpai, I’m so… This is going to devolve into another competition between you two, isn’t it?”

“That entirely depends if he’s able to keep up with me.”

Goro pointedly doesn’t look Akira’s way.

A clinking sound draws Goro’s eyes away from Sumire’s (slightly concerned) face.

“I’d like to make a toast,” Makoto announces. “Ryuji, Sumire, you two have always been like two restless balls of energy… Especially when you’ve gone overboard on the sugar. I admire how outgoing you both are, even if that spontaneity leads to… less than savory situations.”

Sakamoto barks a laugh at that. He’s probably thinking about the time he tried to skateboard through traffic. Or the time Sumire bought him a dog treat because it looked like a cookie for humans.

“This is the first of many adult decisions you’ll make in the future,” Makoto continues. “I wish you both a happy marriage. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” the room echoes. 

“Mgh,” Goro mumbles.

“I’d like to get a word in as well,” Mitsuru chimes, standing from the couch as she clinks her glass. Goro shrinks in on himself. He’s always sensed a judgemental air from Kirijo ever since she caught him and Akira making out in a supply closet. “Sakamoto-kun, Yoshizawa-san, I’ve been cheering you on since the day of your recruitment. I can always count on you both to get the job done, particularly when an operation requires brawn and not much brains. You two make a great team, unlike a certain couple who always ends up getting distracted.”

She glares at Akira who rubs the back of his neck. “It doesn’t happen that often.”

“Artemisia may not have the same navigation powers as Yamagishi, but I can still sense when my operatives sneak off into alleyways.”

Akira ducks his head. Even he doesn’t have an excuse for that.

“I’m wishing you the best on all your future endeavors,” Mitsuru concludes, smiling fondly at the true couple of the night. “Très bien!”

“Tray bean!” Ryuji echoes.

“Mph,” Goro mumbles amidst the shouts of cheers.

“If I may,” Yusuke starts, clinking his spoon against his glass ever so delicately, probably to protect the integrity of such a fine vessel. “Ryuji, Sumire, your love could be compared to a priceless heirloom treasured for generations. The hardships you have endured is unimaginable—a tale of war and infatuation to be retold throughout the ages!”

Goro lifts a brow. This is Sakamoto and Yoshizawa they’re talking about here. Yusuke realizes that, right?

“If your love were to be contained in a fishbowl, the glass would burst from the surplus of passion—!”

If anyone has overcome any hardships, it’s Goro and Akira! Goro came back to life twice— twice! Akira successfully outsmarted Goro’s murder plot! A god pitted them against each other, a second god brought them back together, yet they defeated them both to regain their own free will! Goro vowed to stay out of Akira’s life, only to end up with their lives thoroughly entangled—inseparable! 

“—plant your sprout into the soil of devotion, your leaves tickled by the wind for the rest of eternity!”

Questionable ‘cheers?’ spread through the crowd when Yusuke triumphantly lifts his glass.

The toasts continue, though none are quite as theatrical as Yusuke’s. Ann recites a speech about how much Ryuji’s grown, Sumire’s gymnastics coach rambles about the redhead’s grace. Their parents take their turn, Ryuji’s mother nearly brought to tears as Ryuji beams from ear to ear. Even Sae decides to try her hand at a speech. What the hell, Sae?

When Morgana concludes his speech that sounds like meows to half the audience (he’s not able to hold a glass in his paws, so Haru has to lift his water bowl for him), Goro is relieved it’s finally over. Speeches are meant to be saved for the wedding. They’re not meant to be recited in Goro’s apartment, reminding him that his boyfriend of seven years doesn’t want to marry him, when Goro should be cuddled against said boyfriend under a blanket and/or getting railed by him. 

Goro furiously downs the rest of his disgusting wine. He’s had far too much to drink tonight, having to take a swig after every long, excruciating toast. Even his friends’ smiling faces are too much to bear! They’re happy because of someone else! A couple who is not him and Akira! Because Akira and Goro aren’t getting married, they never will get married, and Goro will probably die alone when Akira meets someone he actually wants to propose to.

“A toast to the happy couple!” Akira clinks his glass, but Goro refuses to sit through Akira rave about how happy he is that someone else is getting married.

“Enough!” Goro snaps. The room goes silent as countless eyes turn to stare at him, but Goro is too busy looking at his boyfriend’s dumb, startled face to read their expressions. “Is this what the Phantom Thieves have become? The illustrious Shadow Operatives, a myth to regular society, standing around and weeping over how much you love each other? How are you not embarrassed? Enough of this sappy, jovial bullshit! I knew you were the type to lick each other’s wounds, but the lack of self respect is abysmal! Pathetic! Humiliating! Watching you bend to the will of others… I have never been so utterly disappointed in you. What do you have to say for yourself, Joker?”

Akira’s eyes widen. He stays frozen for a moment as he comprehends the words.

“I think we’re going to call it a night here,” he announces to the party. “Goro’s a little tired.”

“Alright!” Ann chimes.

“Thank you so much for hosting, senpai!”

They’re all unfazed, their friends gathering their things and slowly filtering out of the apartment as though Goro’s outburst is something they’re used to. Akira isn’t hurt or betrayed by the scathing words, but Goro would say he’s far from unaffected.

“Oh no, I know that look,” Morgana yowls. “Futaba, take me with you!”

The pleasant goodnights and thank yous of their guests sink into nothingness until the door is latched shut behind them. 

That cocky smirk is glued to Akira’s face when he turns around, lazily sauntering up to his glaring boyfriend.

“Honey,” he starts, clearly amused, like Goro is some form of entertainment— a circus clown!

Goro doesn’t offer a response. He doesn’t even acknowledge Akira’s presence beyond lifting his gaze to scowl at his dumb, handsome face.

But apparently two can play at that game. Because instead of opening his big mouth to piss Goro off further, Akira grabs him by the hips and seals their lips together, coaxing Goro’s jaw open to lick against his tongue.

“Sorry for offering to host out of the blue,” Akira says when he pulls away. “I know how quickly your social battery drains.”

Goro narrows his eyes.

“But I promise,” Akira continues, “That’ll be the last engagement party we throw in this apartment. They got confetti all over the floor. I didn’t even buy any confetti. They must’ve brought it from home.”

Akira’s grin is completely ignored by Goro, who’s too busy seeing red.

“The last engagement party? You can’t even fathom one more?”

“W-well,” Akira babbles. “I wasn’t even planning on hosting this one—”

Goro is going to kill him—

“—but it’s not really customary for a couple to host their own engagement party. So, with me being Ryuji’s best man and all, I figured it was the least I could do.”

Goro, who had been grinding his teeth up until this point, finally relaxes his jaw. “I see.”

“Yeah. And I’m sure Ryuji would be happy to return the favor at some point.”

Right. Of course. If Ann and Shiho ever get married, Ryuji and Sumire can return the favor by offering to host.

“That would be wonderful.”

“Or,” Akira drawls, “Ann could host. You know she’ll jump at any opportunity to buy cake.”

Right… If Haru and Makoto get married, Ann and Shiho could host.

“Or Haru,” Akira suggests. “She’d probably love to throw an engagement party in that giant mansion of hers. Did you know she has a ballroom?”

Right. Haru and Makoto could host if… Morgana ever gets married.

“I had no issue with hosting tonight’s party,” Goro lies. “So long as the confetti gets vacuumed.”

“You had no issue, huh? So was that outburst of yours just a fantasy of mine?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Akira snorts. “It was pretty hot. It took all my willpower not to pounce on you right then and there.”

“You liked that, hm?”

“Oh, so you do know what I’m talking about?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to jog my memory. Were you hoping for a repeat?”

“Fuck yeah. Especially if you call me Joker again.”

“In your dreams, Kurusu.”

So maybe the engagement party wasn’t as miserable as Goro expected. After all, wrapping up the celebration by sitting on his boyfriend’s face isn’t the worst way to end a night.

.

.

Goro already feels the prickling of a headache, and he’s only been here a few minutes.

Sakamoto invited him along to try on tuxedos, as well as Akira, Morgana, and Yusuke, the latter currently sketching Ryuji in what appears to be a butler’s outfit. Ryuji has already scurried off to try on his first tux, while Akira stands outside the dressing room curtain to hype him up. Goro didn’t get to see his suit of choice before he vanished, but based on the tuxedos on the rack, Goro can only imagine he’s committing some kind of fashion crime.

He grimaces as he combs through the available suits. A leopard print blazer with matching patterned slacks, a bright purple ensemble that would clash terribly with Sakamoto’s hair. A suit with yen symbols printed tackily across it, some horrid zebra fabric that reminds Goro of a certain jagged persona. There’s a few decent options on the other side of the room: the classic black tuxedo, a deep maroon suit Akira would look great in. An elegant white blazer with coattails, a sophisticated beige number. A blue argyle suit sits at the very end of the rack, as though waiting for someone to notice it. It’s certainly not Ryuji’s type of pattern, but it could look decent if it had the right person to pull it off. 

Goro warily glances in the direction of the dressing rooms. If the suits on the rack are this bad, Goro can only imagine the offensive piece Sakamoto chose to try on first. Gold foil, or something so oversized it looks like a trash bag—

Just as Goro is coming to terms with the fact that he’ll be here all fucking day, Ryuji steps out of the fitting room wearing a crisp grey suit.

“I like this one!” he announces.

“Marvelous! It accentuates your body in all the right ways!”

“Dude. Phrasing.”

“Sumi will love it,” Akira grins as he places a hand on Ryuji’s shoulder.

“For real? You think so?”

“Yeah. What do you think, Goro?”

“It’s surprisingly…” Goro pauses as he considers the right word to say here, “Normal.”

“That’s good enough for me!”

So Sakamoto picks the first tuxedo he tried on, and they’re out of the suit store before Goro’s headache has the chance to fully set in.

.

.

While the tuxedo fitting flew by in a flash, the dress shopping is a far more harrowing excursion.

Ann, Haru, and Makoto sit on the shop’s luxurious cushions, Futaba crouched on the floor as she types away on her laptop. Goro was invited along, as he’s the maid of honor and Sumire trusts him to not mince his words. If a dress looks hideous on her, someone needs to step up to prevent her from embarrassing herself. Goro’s a good friend like that.

And Akira’s here too, because Sumire claims he has a “good” sense of “fashion” and she could use extra “moral support.” Which is ridiculous! Not only does Goro excel in moral support, his fashion sense is far superior. He brushes off his argyle blue sweater vest as Sumire exits the dressing room to show off her first dress.

It’s a mermaid dress with a low cut neckline, the skirt lined with a lace that has the girls ooh-ing and ahh-ing.

“What do you think?” Sumire asks shyly. 

“It accentuates your curves nicely,” Makoto notes.

“It makes you look taller!” Haru chimes.

“I don’t think Ryuji would be able to pay attention to anything else,” Ann snorts.

“I-in a good way or a bad way?” Sumire frets.

“It looks great on you, Sumi,” Akira reassures, to which Goro nearly recoils from shock. Perhaps Akira’s reaching an age where he needs prescription glasses, because he must be blind as a bat.

“It’s too sophisticated for you,” he cuts in, bluntly. “And entirely ill-fitting of your personality. Next.”

Sumire nods rapidly before dashing into the fitting room to find a new dress.

Akira raises a brow at his boyfriend. “You didn’t like it?”

“The dress itself was gorgeous, but it wasn’t Sumire. She knows what it’s like to pretend to be someone else. She shouldn’t attend her own wedding dressed as a façade.”

“Maybe that’s true.” Akira leans closer, until his lips are brushing the shell of Goro’s ear. “But it would look amazing on you.”

Goro scoffs. “I’m not wearing a dress in front of our friends.”

“I never said you had to wear it in front of our friends.”

“You want to spend a fortune on a dress just so you can fuck me in it?”

“Well… yeah,” Akira beams. “I’d pay anything for a night of great sex with you.”

“I’m not a prostitute, Akira.”

“I didn’t mean like that.”

At least Akira has the tact to look sheepish, the gentleman he is.

“In a dress that tight,” Goro muses, “Pushing the skirt up would be a pain. I doubt the tail would fit over my hips.”

“I’m good with a knife.”

“But not with finances, apparently.”

“Remind me, honey, which one of us files our taxes again?”

Goro rolls his eyes. It’s not his fault he never learned how to do it. It was something Shido always handled (controlled, more accurately), so when Goro came back to life the second time, he had to beg Sae to help him with his tax forms. Of all the things to be jailed for, tax evasion would just be embarrassing.

“Take this seriously, Akira. This is our best friends’ wedding we’re talking about.”

“I’m taking this very seriously.”

“If this is you being serious, that makes me concerned for when it’s time for our—”

Goro cuts himself off before he can say something catastrophic.

“Our what, honey?”

“Our… part in the wedding. Ryuji and Sumire’s wedding. Our roles are rather important, wouldn’t you say?”

“Very.”

Sumire, the lifesaver she is, emerges from the changing room, and Goro shifts his focus to criticizing her dress of choice.

“What do you think?” she asks as she smooths out the layers of her puffy tutu skirt.

“Fitting for a summer wedding,” Makoto nods.

“You’re like a ballerina!” Haru gushes.

“It’s cute,” Akira, the backstabber, says.

“Horribly childish,” Goro deadpans. “You’re getting married, not celebrating your eighth birthday. Next.”

“Harsh,” Akira murmurs when Sumire scurries away.

“That’s what I’m here for.”

The next dress is only slightly better: a large, ballroom dress with a skirt thick enough to qualify as a duvet. But apparently Goro’s friends are blinder than he thought. That, or they can’t lie to save their lives, because when Sumire asks for their opinions, the compliments start rolling in.

“That pattern is to die for!” Ann gushes.

Even Futaba, who’d been staring at her laptop screen until now, decides to say her piece. “Damn, Sumire. You look like you were isekai’d into a fairytale.”

“I can only imagine how gorgeous you’d look twirling across a ballroom!” Haru beams.

“It’s beautiful, Sumire,” Akira says sincerely.

“Enough of this subservient flattery,” Goro cuts in. “It looks like the dress is wearing her. Next.”

A sheer dress with spaghetti straps is next, the complete opposite of that classical ballroom gown.

“It’s lightweight,” Futaba notes. “Seems practical.”

“It shows off your collarbones!” Haru sings, “And your arms look so slender!”

“I do like the shorter skirt on you,” Makoto muses.

“Ryuji’d love it,” Akira nods.

“Don’t tell me you’re considering wearing lingerie to a wedding,” Goro sneers. “Next.”

Sumire waddles out of the dressing room wearing a white kimono, fit with the traditional wataboshi headpiece. The girls coo over her, and even Goro can admit the red accents look gorgeous on her. It might even be his dress of choice if he hadn’t already seen the suit Sakamoto picked out. 

“Sumire-chan, it’s gorgeous!” Haru cries.

“Yeah, wow,” Ann agrees. “Almost makes me want one for myself.”

“Breathtaking! A display of absolute beauty and grace!” Yusuke frantically draws the dress in his sketchbook. When the hell did he get here?

“You’re glowing, Sumi,” Akira adds with a smile.

“A traditional wedding wasn’t in your plans, was it?” Goro reminds her. “You’re bound to outshine Sakamoto either way, but surpassing him this much would just be embarrassing.”

Sumire nods, the headpiece nearly falling off her head as she does so. “I’ll look for something else.”

The ‘something else’ is a floor-length dress with long lace sleeves, the girls overwhelming Sumire with compliments.

“So pretty!” Ann coos. 

“That lace is stunning,” Makoto agrees.

“It looks so elegant!” Haru chimes.

“Very classy,” Akira adds. “I like it.”

“It’s pretty, sure, but you can’t forget this is a summer wedding,” Goro huffs. “July, to be exact. The humidity will be unbearable as is. We don’t want the bride to sweat her makeup off.”

“Good point, senpai!” Sumire scampers off before trying on a dress with shorter sleeves. She’d be less likely to sweat, sure, but the sleeves are so poofy that Goro grimaces at the sight alone.

“How cute!” Haru giggles. “You’re like a marshmallow!”

“It’s making me rather hungry,” Yusuke says, his stomach growling on cue.

“Very fitting of your personality,” Akira compliments.

“You look like a child about to go swimming for the first time,” Goro barks. “Next.”

Next is a box dress fitting loosely over Sumire’s body. It looks less like a wedding dress and more like an oversized t-shirt that just so happens to be white.

“It’s simple,” Ann starts, “But it would draw attention to your face and hair instead.”

“You could pick out an elaborate veil to compensate!” Haru suggests.

“You did say you want a simple wedding,” Makoto reminds her.

“It’s on the cheaper side too,” Akira notes.

“Oh, please. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity,” Goro chides. “You look like you’re wearing a pillow case. Next.”

Sumire hurries back to the dressing room, and when she reveals the next dress, Goro is rendered speechless.

It’s a flared, tea length dress stopping just above the knee, the bust decorated with floral lace leading into off-shoulder sleeves. It’s cute without being childish, elegant without being overly mature. It’s perfectly Sumire.

“Oh, Sumire-chan,” Haru melts, “You look like a fairy.”

“That is so gorgeous,” Ann agrees. “You have to get it!”

“It really is the perfect dress,” Makoto says.

“Woah, Sumi.” Futaba’s eyes nearly pop out of her skull, “You look hot.”

“D-do I?”

“Marvelous!” Yusuke declares.

“I think this is the one,” Akira beams.

“W-what do you think, Goro-senpai?” Sumire asks nervously, and for once, Goro finds himself agreeing with his fashion criminal of a boyfriend. The dress really is perfect.

“It’ll do.”

Sumire, along with the rest of the girls, bursts into a fit of squeals. “I’ll take it!”

So Sumire gets the dress, and Goro, being the perfect maid of honor he is, treats them to a late lunch at his favorite tea house. Sumire thanks him for helping her find a dress, leaning in to whisper that she’ll happily help him pick out a dress in the future.

…She must mean a bridesmaid dress. Not that Goro has any intention of wearing a dress—

Whatever. He has time to talk her out of it. The only person allowed to see him in a dress is Akira (and occasionally Morgana when he walks in on them), and Goro doesn’t plan on changing that any time soon.

.

.

Two Saturdays before the wedding, Akira, Goro, and Morgana prepare for Sakamoto’s bachelor party.

Akira, as best man, planned the whole thing. Responsibility is a sexy look on him, as is the t-shirt and blazer he throws on after attempting to comb his hair. It’s not the fanciest outfit, so Goro assumes they’re going to spend the night squeezed between strangers in a club. As fun as it is to grind on Akira in public, Goro would prefer not to sweat in his nice sweater vest.

“Heading to Shibuya, are we?” Goro chimes once they’ve boarded the subway, Morgana squeezed into Akira’s bag. “Would you mind telling me, darling, what exactly you have planned for us tonight?”

Akira flashes a cheeky grin. “It’s a surprise.”

Goro’s pleasant façade drops in the place of a glare. Is it somewhere sleazy? Will Goro be forced to watch strippers dance all over his boyfriend? Will he be deemed a party pooper if he dares to complain?

Maybe Goro should give Akira a lap dance before anyone else can…

Goro’s so wrapped up in his daydream about giving Akira a lap dance, he doesn’t recognize the commute he knows so well, even when they transfer lines in Shibuya. It’s only when they arrive at the homey cafe that realization sets in.

“Leblanc?” he asks. “If you wanted to overdose on caffeine before the party, I’m sure we could’ve done it at home.”

“Honey,” Akira smiles as he opens the cafe door. “This is the party.”

“Huh?”

“Whaddup, party people?!” Ryuji beams when they step inside, holding up numerous bottles of alcohol. Yusuke frames the scene with his fingers from where he sits in a nearby booth seat.

“...Are we waiting for anyone else?” Goro asks.

“Nah, just us. I considered asking a few guys at the Ops to join us, but word spreads fast. I didn’t want certain people findin’ out they weren’t invited. Or should I say certain bears.”

“Tell me about it!” Morgana gripes. “Last time I had a mission with Teddie I ended up with Amrita soda stuck in my fur!”

So a ‘bros’ night at Leblanc is what Sakamoto requested for his bachelor party. Goro can’t say he’s entirely opposed to the idea. He’s certainly glad they weren’t dragged to some trashy facility in Shinjuku. Sumire shouldn’t be marrying anyone who’d be gawking at strippers two weeks before their wedding.

Goro can’t help but wonder what he’d do for his own bachelor party. A trip to the library, or perhaps sipping tea while looking over the lake at Inokashira Park… Simply heavenly. What would Akira do for his bachelor party? Would he go to that Shinjuku bar he’s fond of, the one he first showed Goro when they were trying to escape the rain? It started out innocent enough, with Goro being introduced to the owner and the regular Akira’s familiar with. But receiving an abundance of shots for ‘a cutie and his new boy toy’ led to them getting shitfaced, which in turn led to Goro getting railed in a bathroom stall. He doesn’t remember much beyond the dim pink glow of the bathroom.

“Yo, ‘kira, you mind shufflin’ for us?”

A deck of cards is messily spread out over the booth table, indicating they’ll be playing some kind of game. Akira slides onto the bench beside Yusuke, leaving Goro and Ryuji to sit on the other side, Morgana claiming a spot on the edge of the table. Goro would’ve complained about not getting to sit next to Akira, had he not immediately been distracted by Akira beginning to shuffle the deck.

“Ooh, we’re playing Tycoon?” Morgana chimes. “I love this game!”

Akira’s fingers are so long, so deft…

“For real? How do you even hold the cards in your paws?”

His knuckles curl effortlessly, the cards like putty in his hands…

“Ah, Tycoon, the game of luck and skill alike. I wonder who will be fortuitous tonight.”

Akira deals thirteen cards for each player, his fingers working so quickly, so gracefully…

“You’re up, honey,” Akira smirks as he slides Goro his cards. Picking up the pile, Goro unveils what has to be… the most average hand in the history of Tycoon. What’s the point of his boyfriend being the dealer if he’s not going to sneak him a few Jokers?

“Wait wait wait,” Ryuji interrupts. “You’re forgettin’ the most important part! What are the stakes?!”

“What’s this about steaks?” Yusuke perks up.

“No, dude. I mean, like, what does someone get if they win?”

“How about,” Akira starts, “The Tycoon gets to make the beggar do whatever they want.”

“Oh, hell yeah! Like truth or dare! Except without the truth part.”

“What about the other players?” Yusuke asks. “The rich, poor, commoner. Do they exist only to be forgotten?”

“Eh, they can just take a shot or something.”

“What about me?!” Morgana yowls. “I can’t drink alcohol!”

“Oh, right. You can take a shot of milk, Mona.”

“I can’t have milk! It makes my stomach hurt!”

“Uh. I’ve got some Mad Bull. Can you drink that?”

“...Is it safe for cats to consume energy drinks?” Goro asks.

“...He used to drink it all the time in the Metaverse,” Akira says.

“It should be fine then!” Ryuji waves them off. “Akechi, you’re up first.”

As he predicted, Goro’s average cards deem him an average score as commoner. Surprisingly, Morgana wins as Tycoon, and Ryuji ends the first game of his bachelor party in last place.

“Aw, man,” he pouts. “What do you want, cat?”

“You, Ryuji,” Morgana says with a puffed-out chest, “Have to drink a shot of milk!”

“For real? That’s not that bad!”

So Ryuji downs his shot of milk in a flash, and Akira gathers the cards to reshuffle the deck, his fingers moving swiftly, expertly…

“You owe me two cards, Ryuji,” Morgana snickers.

“Fine,” Ryuji deflates. “But I’m goin’ first this time!”

Unsurprisingly, Morgana doesn’t win two games in a row, instantly bankrupting him and making him the beggar. Their new Tycoon is none other than Akira.

“Go easy on me, Joker,” Morgana pouts. 

Akira places a hand on his chin as he considers his poor cat’s punishment. 

“I have some outfits upstairs,” he starts. “Some stuff we used in the Metaverse back in the day. I thought it’d make our fighting better.”

“I did feel a surge of power when dressed in a butler uniform,” Yusuke muses.

Morgana narrows his eyes. “What are you getting at?”

“There’s a few hats I stumbled on that were meant for… normal cats. As in, not your Metaverse form.”

“Joker…”

“Oh, dude. I have to see this.”

Akira darts upstairs before returning with a small hat in the shape of a sunflower.

“Really?” Morgana mutters.

“You’ll look handsome,” Akira reassures. He adjusts the strap beneath Morgana’s chin, fixing the petals to sit in front of his ears. “There. Perfect.”

“Mrgh.”

“Smile, Mona~”

“Wha— Don’t take a picture!”

But the cat’s protests fall on deaf ears. When Akira wants a picture, he’ll get a picture. Goro knows that better than anyone.

“P-please don’t show Lady Ann!”

“Good idea. Ann would love this.”

“Joker!”

“Alright, next game!” Ryuji announces. “I’m feelin’ good about this one.”

Another game goes by, and Goro takes his third shot when he places in the middle of the pack. At least he gets to watch his idiot of a boyfriend lose when Yusuke claims the Tycoon title.

“How fortunate of me, to ask the leader of the Phantom Thieves himself to fulfill my desire!”

“Dude. Phrasing.”

“Of course, there’s only one request I dare ask of you.” A mischievous laugh bubbles in Yusuke’s chest, “Akira, I demand you make me a plate of curry at once!”

“Oh. I’m sure Boss has some ingredients in the fridge.”

“Ooh, save some for me!”

With Akira, Yusuke, and Morgana running off to the kitchen, Ryuji lets out a big, woeful sigh.

Goro pretends he doesn’t hear it.

Ryuji lets out a second big, woeful sigh.

Goro huffs. “What is it?”

“The wedding’s comin’ up soon.”

“I’m aware.”

“And I’m just, uh… a lil nervous.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“B-because you don’t get nervous about things! I figured you could lend me your wisdom or whatever.”

“I get nervous. I’m just better at hiding it.”

“Oh.”

Goro glances at Akira in hopes of being saved from this conversation. His lifeline, however, is currently staring at a pot of curry instead of his damsel in distress.

“What are you nervous about?” he asks. 

“Ah, well.” Sakamoto’s gaze lowers to the table as he rubs the back of his neck. “W-what if I mess up my vows? Or what if the knife breaks when I try to cut the cake? What if I accidentally see her dress before the wedding? What if I trip?!”

Goro is slightly overwhelmed by the sudden avalanche of questions. 

“Sakamoto, Sumire likes you for you. She already knows you’re clumsy, that you’re prone to mistakes, that you lack a certain common sense most people are born with. But that’s why she loves you. I’m sure she’d laugh it off if you fucked something up.”

Ryuji blinks large puppy eyes at him. “Really? So, like, if Akira fucked up n’ accidentally put your ring on the wrong finger, you’d be fine with it?”

“Oh, I’d file for nullification on the spot.” Ryuji’s eyes widen at the words. “But I’m not the one getting married here.”

“I mean, you will eventually. ‘Kira totally wants to get married.”

“...Did he tell you that?”

“No, but… he’s totally the type to wanna get married!”

“Right. I thought he was too.”

“Bon appétit!” Akira announces from the kitchen, revealing two perfect plates of curry for his cat and the starving artist. As the two dig into their dishes, Goro can’t help but sigh. Akira really would make the perfect husband. 

Tycoon resumes after the curry has been scarfed down, but Goro has trouble paying attention to the game. They decided to reset with a clean slate, so when Ryuji emerges victorious in the end, it’s not Yusuke who’s automatically demoted as the beggar. 

Rather it’s Goro who winds up in the losing spot.

“Hehehe.” Ryuji rubs his hands together like a manga villain. Even more terrifying, he rubs his hands together like Futaba. “Akechi, I dare you…” 

Surely he won’t make Goro do anything too absurd after the heart-to-heart they just had.

“...To call Sae and tell her you’re pregnant!”

Goro hopes Sumire divorces him.

…After an insanely awkward phone call and many, many uncomfortable questions (yes, Sae-san, I can get pregnant. Yes, Akira is the father. No, he isn’t planning on proposing. Yes, I’ll reach out to you if I decide to sue him), the game continues, and Goro is determined to get his revenge. 

It’s not difficult to win a game of Tycoon when he sets his mind to it, easily knocking Sakamoto to last place. The difficult part, however, is deciding how exactly Goro will ruin his life.

“Sakamoto,” he drawls, baring a sinister set of fangs. He may have awakened to Hereward long ago, but Loki’s smile still comes easily. “There’s a box of hair dye in the bathroom. Black. Akira once had a grey hair scare and panicked. Ridiculous, considering he’s not even thirty. It was nothing more than a trick of poor lighting.”

Ryuji fidgets in his seat. “What’s that got to do with anythin’?”

“Ah, I thought it was obvious,” Goro preens. “I dare you to dye your hair black.”

“WHAT? B-but the wedding—!”

“I’m sure Ann can help you rebleach it before then.”

“Sumi will kill me—”

“Black is your natural hair color, no? I’m sure she’ll love it on you.”

“Dude.” Ryuji deflates even more. “You really think Ann’ll be able to fix it?”

“She can work wonders.”

Ryuji sighs before slowly shuffling out of the booth seat. “‘Kira, why’s your boyfriend gotta be so evil?”

“It started when he was born on June second—”

“I don’t need to know the full story! You gotta help me with this, man. You’re the one who knows how to use it.”

Thirty minutes later, Sakamoto walks out of the bathroom as a broken shell of a man.

“What the eff! I look like I’m in middle school again!”

“You look like you fell into mud!” Morgana wheezes.

“Shut it, cat!”

“My, Ryuji,” Yusuke starts, framing Ryuji’s face with his fingers. “This color on you… I’ve never seen you look so tortured! It’s almost Shakespearean!”

Ryuji slouches so much he’s nearly melting into the floor. “What if Ann’s bleach isn’t strong enough?”

“You could always delay the wedding indefinitely,” Goro suggests. “Or cancel it outright.”

“We are not doin’ that!”

“I used a light coat,” Akira reassures him. “Ann has some hair dye remover that’ll wash it right out. She won’t even need to bleach it.”

“Oh, thank eff. I really thought my life was over!”

Ryuji slides back into the booth seat and grins like the last thirty minutes never happened. 

“Alright, who’s next?”

They end up playing one more game before the party comes to an abrupt end. Not because of an emergency or because anyone was tired, but when Goro gets knocked down to a beggar, Akira glances across the booth like a hunter cornering its prey.

“Looks like I win.”

Goro sighs. “What do you want, Akira?”

Akira offers an innocent, one-shoulder shrug. “A blowjob.”

“Dude!”

“Joker!”

“My goodness!”

Goro’s expression remains deadpan, unfazed. “You already got one earlier.”

“Dude!”

“I’m a greedy man.”

“Clearly. And selfish enough to ruin your best friend’s bachelor party.”

“Selfish? Hardly. We can go upstairs. Wouldn’t be the first time you sucked my dick in that attic.”

“DUDE!”

“Wait…” Morgana cuts in, “You haven’t lived in that attic since you went to Shujin!”

“Yup.”

Yusuke clutches a hand over his heart. “You were having a lovers’ affair all that time?!”

“I mean, Goro didn’t call it that.”

“We fooled around,” Goro clarifies. “But we never had the chance to do something down here…”

Akira’s brows shoot up. “Were you hoping to change that?”

“Might as well. Considering I’ve been dared to.” Goro slowly slips beneath the booth table before settling on his knees.

“Oh, hell no!”

“I’d rather not bear witness to this!”

“I’m staying at Futaba’s tonight!”

One by one the boys rush out of the cafe, but Goro’s already unbuttoned Akira’s pants before the door has slammed shut behind them. He’s hard just from a little flirting; Goro would scoff if he wasn’t so flattered. When a hand tangles in his hair, Goro doesn’t bother saying anything at all, getting right to work on fulfilling his end of the dare.

.

.

One week before the wedding, Goro digs out his finest sweater vest for Sumire’s bachelorette party.

It was his duty as maid of honor to plan the event, so naturally his first step in party planning was to let Ann plan the party instead. The only information he was given is an address in Harajuku—somewhere incredibly stylish, he’s sure.

The outside of the building is flashy, far more so than the average bar or restaurant. Stepping inside feels like entering a germ convention combined with a lightbulb store. How? How is it so dim yet so bright at the same time? Goro has to squint to see anything beyond a layer of smoke. Just what kind of labyrinth has he stumbled into? Could it be Ann is trying to get rid of him? Are they truly so jealous of his perfect relationship with Akira that they’d send him into a torture dungeon? All to make their relationships look better in comparison?!

“Goro! Over here!”

Ann’s voice cuts through the smoke and dim lighting of the facility. His vision gradually clears as he follows the sound, eventually stumbling into a decently lit club. But the lighting is the only thing decent about it! Sweaty strangers are packed together like sardines on the dance floor, the booths are overrun with couples sloppily making out—how filthy! The servers are scantily clad men who were apparently deprived of their rights to wear a shirt. One of the insanely muscular waiters delivers a round of shots to a nearby table, grabbing his frilly maid apron as he curtsies.

So this is the place Ann chose.

“Goro!” the blonde in question repeats, more forcefully this time. Goro turns in the direction of her voice, finding his friends waiting in a large booth in the corner.

Oh.

Ann’s wearing a penis hat.

A floppy penis hat, the shaft bouncing wildly as she waves.

Maybe Goro shouldn’t have trusted her with party planning responsibilities.

“Would it have killed you to pick a more mature theme,” he grumbles in lieu of a greeting. Glancing at the table, Goro’s frown only deepens. “Is that a penis cake?”

“Yup!” Ann nods, the penis hat bobbing with the action.

“Just go along with it,” Shiho deadpans, her own penis accessory drooping in a melancholy fashion.

“Sumire gets first serving, by the way,” Futaba, also adorned in a phallic headpiece, says. “So don’t go diving in or anything.”

Goro stares. “I’m not sure if that was homophobic or not.”

“Grab a hat, senpai!” Sumire chimes. The penis on her head is a firetruck red to match her hair. She almost makes it look cute, like a stylish accessory. Goro isn’t sure how he feels about that.

“It’s not…used, is it?”

“You really think we’d be wearing these if they were?” Makoto mutters. She looks just as uncomfortable with the situation as Goro feels. Next to her, Haru beams as she sways her head to make the penis wiggle.

“...Fine.” 

Ann reaches into a mysterious bag of penises to fetch Goro a hat. It’s…flesh colored, and oddly realistic, far more so than any of the other girls’ penises. He weighs it in his hands and finds it to be rather light—it must be hollow on the inside (no wonder they flop around so much). It’s average in length and girth, unimpressive compared to Akira’s size. But it’s not like Goro is complaining. Something that big might actually break his neck.

Goro takes a deep breath. He needs to stop stalling and put the penis on his head.

Flash.

“Mwehehe,” a certain gremlin snickers as she taps on her phone. “Akira will love this.”

Even after being blinded by the camera flash, Goro sees red. “Delete. That.”

“Too late~ He already texted back!” Futaba’s smile fades as she reads whatever monstrosity Akira typed out. “Ew. I’m not reading that.”

“Have a seat, Goro-kun!” Haru sings. “Sumire-chan was just telling us about the flowers they picked for the wedding! I almost don’t want to spoil the surprise!”

The topic of conversation is surprisingly innocent considering the hat. And the cake. And the half naked male waiters wearing frilly waist aprons. Goro settles into the booth between Sumire and Ann as the wedding spoilers continue.

“What does the cake look like?!”

“Have you written your vows yet?!”

“Did Yusuke really put together an ice sculpture?!”

The questions fly by at a mile a minute, Goro being uncharacteristically silent throughout the exchange. The wedding will be magical, a beautiful display of love! What bullshit. The penis on Goro’s head droops as he shrinks in on himself. Sumire’s wedding will be perfect! I didn’t know Ryuji was such a romantic! I didn’t think he was the type to want to get married! Turns out it’s Akira who doesn’t want to be tied down.

Can you blame him?

Why would he want to trap himself with someone like that?

He needs a quick escape, for his own safety.

Akechi just wants his money. Did you hear he grew up poor?

No one wanted him as a child. Why would anything be different now?

“Can I get you ladies something to drink?”

“Oh!” 

Sumire turns to the waiter so quickly that her penis hat slaps Goro in the face.

“A round of shots for all of us!”

Turns out Goro needed that shot, as well as the penis slap to the face, because the party runs a lot smoother from there. Goro isn’t jealous when a group of girls compliment Sumire’s ring, telling her she’ll make a gorgeous bride. Sumire shows off one of the dances she learned in the classes she’s taking with Ryuji, and Goro doesn’t imagine taking dance classes with Akira, the two turning their lessons into a competition Akira would inevitably lose. He orders a mojito from one of the sexy buff maid waiters, and when he takes his first sip from his penis straw, he does not think about Akira at all!

Goro is on his third drink and second slice of penis cake when one of the sexy male waiters approaches their table. He must be the head jock in charge, because he takes out a very professional looking clipboard.

“Is this…the Takamaki party?”

“Yup!” Ann (and her penis hat) nods.

“It says you ordered the Sexy Stripper Package.”

“Sure did!”

“A-Ann-senpai! You got us male strippers?!”

“They’re not gonna grind their junk on you or anything. They’re just here for show!”

One by one an army of male strippers marches toward their table. They’re just as buff as the sexy maid waiters, except they don’t have an apron tied around their waists. They’re all dressed in matching speedos, except a few of them wear firefighter helmets or nurse hats to give the illusion of fantasy. Goro eyes the one wearing cat ears and a speedo and mentally jots it down for when Akira asks what he should be next Halloween.

“Next round of shots is on the house!” The buff maid waiter flexes his biceps before turning to fetch their drinks.

“Oh my!” Haru is the first to speak up. “I feel like I’m at a petting zoo!”

“What kind of petting zoos have you been to?” Futaba grunts.

"Normal ones!"

“Wow,” Makoto drawls. “You could cut diamonds on those abs.”

“How do you even get abs like that?” Shiho asks.

“Discipline!” one stripper says.

“And hard work!” another stripper finishes for him.

“Oh no!” Futaba squawks. “They share a brain cell!”

“Looks like we’ve arrived just in time.”

Two new figures enter the vicinity: Sae and Mitsuru, both with a drink in hand as they amusedly analyze the scene before them. Goro straightens his posture in a panic. He didn’t know they were invited! He already had to explain to Sae that he’s not actually pregnant. The last thing he needs is his boss and his boyfriend’s boss seeing him with a penis on his head.

“I could use a few of these at the office,” Mitsuru muses. “Akihiko might enjoy a few more training partners.”

“It depends how much paperwork they’re willing to do,” Sae chuckles before sliding into the booth. No one offers her a penis hat, likely out of fear. “Oh, don’t look so scared. Give me one of those.”

Makoto’s eyes widen in surprise. “Sis…”

“We’re here to celebrate your friend’s wedding. Just because I’m a working woman doesn’t mean I can’t have fun.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be the odd one out,” Mitsuru sighs as she claims a penis hat for herself. “I trust this will stay between us. I’ll never live this down if Iori finds out.”

They go through a few rounds of shots as the men continue to dance. The one wearing a police hat pretends to arrest one of his stripper friends, and the one wearing a tie around his neck (to signify that he’s a schoolteacher) offers to ‘teach them a lesson.’ Surprisingly it’s Ann and Haru who are whooping and hollering the most. They’re patrons of the arts, Goro supposes.

“Free lap dances for the bride to be!” the sexy construction worker exclaims. 

Ann, now significantly drunker than she was three shots ago, immediately perks up at this. “Sumi, you have to!”

“I– I think that’s a little much..!”

“His bicep is bigger than Sumi’s head!” Futaba hiccups. “Can you imagine if Sumi died a week before her wedding?”

Sumire’s features flood with genuine fear. “You think I’d die, Futaba-senpai?!”

“You’ve gotta give him a tap on the ass at least,” Makoto, of all people, suggests.

“Really? You don’t think Ryuji would mind?”

“Go for it, Sumi-chan!”

“Alright, I’ll do it!” Sumire schools her expression into that of determination, similar to how she prepares before battle. “Construction worker-san, I’d like to spank you!”

The table erupts in applause as Sumire playfully spanks the sexy construction worker’s ass, her face as red as the penis on her head. The rest of the night is a blur after their next round of shots, but Goro swears he vaguely remembers Mitsuru using a male stripper as a chair.

.

.

On July seventh, Ryuji’s birthday, Goro sits at the tea table in Haru’s bedroom as Sumire admires herself in the mirror. Her hair and makeup are ready, her dress and heels are on, and it’s only a matter of time before Goro has to get in position to walk the aisle. Which he isn’t nervous about at all. He is extremely normal and calm about this, in fact.

“Haru, prepare the bouquet,” Makoto orders. “Futaba, make sure the rings are ready. Ann, go check on Ryuji. I’ll tell everyone to take their seats.”

“Got it!”

“Roger that!”

“Right away, Mako-chan!”

The girls filter out of the doorway, leaving Goro and Sumire alone in the bedroom. 

“Senpai,” she starts, eyeing him in the mirror’s reflection, “Could you help me with my veil?”

“Sure.” Goro stands from the tea chair and meets Sumire by the mirror so he can situate the veil. Her hair is pulled into a bun to highlight her face and dress, similar to the style she wears when she’s performing gymnastics. The hairpiece completes the look, a lacey tulle that stretches down to her lower back. Everyone who complimented her on her engagement was right. She does make a beautiful bride.

“I’m a little nervous,” Sumire admits. “Ann-senpai spent so long doing my makeup, and I’m worried I’ll cry it off! Then my makeup would be a mess in all our wedding pictures, and even Yusuke-senpai will draw me looking like I crawled out of a sewer!”

“Didn’t Ann use waterproof mascara?”

“Yes. But I’m known to cry rather violently.”

“It’s normal to be nervous,” Goro attempts to comfort her. He wishes he could draw from experience and tell her how he felt before his own wedding. I wasn’t nervous at all. In fact, I was basking in the attention! I knew Akira would cry when he saw me, and there’s nothing I love more than having him at my mercy. “There’s a lot to look forward to in married life. Waking up next to each other every day, sharing meals together, having someone to come home to. Your husband is someone you’ll always be able to depend on. There’s no fear of him abandoning you, no question of if he still loves you. He’ll always be there for you, and you’ll do the same for him. You get to wear the proof of his devotion around your finger everyday. Not to mention the tax benefits.”

Sumire giggles as their eyes meet in the mirror. “Sounds a lot like you and senpai.”

“I…suppose our relationship is a lot like marriage already. I just want to make it official.”

“I can only hope Ryuji and I have a relationship like yours someday.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Our relationship is no different than anyone else’s.”

“What?! Of course it is! You two are so in love, it’s like you invented a brand new kind of love! You’re soulmates, and if you two were to ever break up, it would be like a meteor hit the earth, wiping out humanity as we know it!”

“Ah, thank you?”

“I ship you, as Futaba-senpai would say.”

“Don’t say that.”

“And I’m so glad you’re our best man and maid of honor! It’s like having my parents at the wedding!”

Sumire doesn’t mention that her actual parents are at the wedding, nor is Goro given the chance to bring it up. Makoto barges into the room to announce that the groom is in position, and Goro and Sumire share a reassuring nod. It’s showtime.

.

.

Haru’s ballroom is decorated in pink and white roses, the lights dimmed to a gentle glow. It’s difficult to make anything in the Okumura mansion look simple, but they’ve still managed to turn a grand ballroom into something cozy.

Goro can see Akira standing at the altar, patting Ryuji on the back to hype him up. Sakamoto’s hair is back to blonde, though it’s a shade lighter than it was before. Goro had to hear a mouthful from Ann about the concoction she cooked up to work her magic.

The bridesmaids’ cue comes in the form of an orchestra beginning to play (Haru just so happened to have an entire orchestra on call), and the ceremony begins with Haru and Makoto walking the aisle, followed by Ann and Shiho. The bridesmaids are dressed in flowy, light pink dresses, while Goro wears a suit of the same shade. He always thought salmon was more Sojiro’s color, but he pulls off the suit quite nicely.

His eyes immediately land on Akira when he steps into the aisle. He’s wearing a black tux, as are the rest of the groomsmen to highlight Ryuji’s grey suit, and Goro huffs a fond breath at how unbelievably handsome he looks. His hair is pushed back on one side, forgoing his glasses to show off his eyes. Ryuji continues to ramble excitedly to him, probably to ease his nerves, but Akira doesn’t offer anything in response. He’s too focused on Goro to pay attention to anything else.

If Goro were less of a professional, he might run up and kiss him. 

But this isn’t Goro’s wedding, and beyond a bit of hair color shenanigans, he has no intentions of ruining this one. So he takes his place beside the bridesmaids, smirking when he feels Akira’s eyes on him. Teddie, sans his mascot suit, is next to walk the aisle as ring bearer (“bear-er, get it?” he said to Sumire. She’s probably the only person who found that joke funny. Even Aigis is growing tired of those puns), followed by Futaba and Morgana as the flower girls. Futaba joins the bridesmaids and Morgana joins the groomsmen when they part ways, the black bowtie on his collar making him fit right in. 

Sumire and her father walk the aisle next, a few gasps and squeals spreading through the crowd. She looks beautiful; Goro even hears Ryuji murmur an emotional “for real?” at the sight of her. A glance his way finds him on the verge of tears, and a glance beside him finds Akira staring right at Goro.

Goro stares back.

Sojiro begins the service by greeting everyone (Goro didn’t even know he was an officiant), but even as Sumire and Ryuji exchange their vows, Goro doesn’t take his eyes off Akira. There’s a million things he’d want to say in his own vows, a million things he doesn’t know how to say. Akira would be so much better at writing something like that. Hell, with how sentimental he is, he practically recites his vows on the daily. But Goro wouldn’t let himself be outplayed so easily. If he set his mind to it, he’s sure he could write the sappiest, mushiest, grossest vows to ever be written. He could make Akira cry.

Sumire and Ryuji exchange rings and I dos, Sojiro announces them as husband and wife, and the newly married couple share a kiss. It’s a rather pathetic kiss, just a quick peck before pulling away. If this were Goro’s wedding, he would’ve grabbed Akira by the face and shoved his tongue down his throat. It’s nothing their friends and coworkers haven’t seen before.

The end of the ceremony leads to the couple sharing their first dance. While Sumire is clearly the more practiced of the two, Ryuji does a decent job showing off what he learned in those dance classes. Akira hugs Goro from behind as they watch, gently swaying their bodies to the music. He’s been awfully clingy since the ceremony concluded, but it’s not like Goro is complaining.

“How was the bachelorette party?” he asks as he tucks his chin on Goro’s shoulder.

“That feels like a decade ago. Didn’t I already tell you?”

“You were so hungover when I asked that all I got was a demonic grumble.”

“Demonic?”

“A cute demonic grumble.”

Goro snorts. “The party was rather intense. Are you sure you want to know what went down?”

“I’ll admit, the picture of you with a penis on your head piqued my interest.”

“There were strippers, Akira. Male strippers.”

“Male strippers? Were they hotter than me?”

“Darling, no one is hotter than you.” Akira beams at this. “But…”

“But..?”

“One of them was wearing cat ears and a speedo. Why do you never wear cat ears and a speedo for me?”

“Babe, I’d happily wear cat ears and a speedo for you.”

“Will you now?”

The first dance ends, and Akira is immediately pulling Goro into a dance of their own. He lifts an arm for Goro to twirl under before pulling him against his chest, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’d do anything for you, honey.”

Goro resists the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he’d make cat ears and a speedo sentimental.

“Can you believe how fast time has gone?” Akira muses. “They’re already married.”

“It’s not like they gave themselves much time to plan. Their proposal was less than four months ago.”

“The wedding still looks pretty good, considering the time limit they had.”

“Mostly thanks to Makoto’s hard work. It’s…quaint.”

“Quaint, huh? You’re saying you’d want a bigger wedding?”

Goro eyes him.

“Of course. Why would I not want to go all out for a celebration like that?”

“Well, at every birthday party I’ve thrown for you, you act like you’re allergic to socializing. You never seemed like much of a party person.”

“Because a birthday party is all about me. There’s nothing I’m particularly proud of there. But a wedding gives me the chance to show off. It’s all about me and… my future husband.”

“Your future husband? Anyone you have in mind?”

“Mm, maybe. But if he doesn’t get a move on, someone else might steal me away.”

“...I’m sure he’s waiting for the right moment.”

“Has the right moment not popped up in seven years? I find that hard to believe.”

“N-no, it did, but then— uh… Did you hear Yusuke made an ice sculpture? There’s also an open bar! Maybe we should check that out!”

“Akira—”

“Haru’s bathroom is also really big, if you wanna let off some steam.”

“Are you suggesting we fuck at our friends’ wedding?”

“No! Unless… you want to..?”

Goro narrows his eyes at his flushed boyfriend. “Akira. Why are you nervous?”

“B-because… You look beautiful, and I have a really big crush on you.”

Goro snorts. It certainly wasn’t believable, but he’s flattered enough to stop asking questions. 

A few hours after the ceremony, while Goro’s taking advantage of the open bar, Ann runs up to him in a flurry.

“Goro, what are you doing just standing around?”

“Am I supposed to be doing something?”

“Sumi’s about to toss her bouquet!”

“What—”

Ann yanks Goro to the center of the ballroom where a horde of girls and Yusuke are excitedly bouncing on their toes. Sumire, with her back facing the crowd, cranes her head to peer over her shoulder, beaming when she makes eye contact with Goro.

“Might as well see if this leads anywhere,” Mitsuru mutters from the outskirts of the crowd.

“Sumire-chan, throw it this way!” Haru cries.

“Such an elegant bouquet would make the perfect subject for sketching practice!” Yusuke declares.

Goro folds his arms over his chest while Sumire counts down from three. There’s not much point in trying to catch it. It’s not like it means anything.

Sumire tosses the bouquet behind her head, and suddenly Goro is being hit in the face by an assortment of petals. 

“I caught it!” Haru cheers from the floor, her arms extended to catch the bouquet that bounced off Goro’s face. “Mako-chan, look!”

She rises to her feet and waves the bouquet around for her girlfriend to see, Makoto blushing furiously at the implication, and Goro snarls under his breath. The bouquet was clearly aimed at him. Sumire intended for him to catch it, for him to get bonked in the head, for him to get married next. Do Haru and Makoto truly think they can defy fate?

Akira and Goro end up making use of Haru’s incredibly large bathroom, mostly to get back at her for stealing Goro’s hard earned bouquet. The ordeal slips to the back of Goro’s mind, until Akira slaps Goro’s face with his cock, and suddenly it’s like being hit by the bouquet all over again.

“You’re so sexy. It’s been hard to control myself tonight.” Akira runs a hand through Goro’s hair, sighing lovingly at the sight. “Suck my cock.”

Goro’s thoughts start to wander as he sucks Akira’s cock. Is he doomed to watch yet another couple get married? Must he relive the last four torturous months all over again, like he’s stuck in a time loop of agony? Could it be that Yaldabaoth has taken over the Metaverse again, all to prevent Goro from achieving happiness? Is one extravagant, over the top wedding too much to ask for? Why? Why must he be tormented by these lesbians?

“You’d make a beautiful bride, Goro.”

Goro stares up at Akira with glistening eyes and a mouthful of cock.

“Is that something you’d like to see?”

He only pulls away for a second to ask the question, but Akira is already wrapping a fist around his base and frantically jerking off in the meantime.

“Yeah… Shit—”

Perhaps Akira has no understanding of wedding etiquette, or he underestimates how long it took Goro to do his makeup. Coming all over Goro’s face should be reserved for the shower, not a tasteful reception in which there are multiple grandmothers present.

“Akira—”

“I was right,” Akira rasps from where he’s collapsed against the wall, “You do look beautiful in a veil.”

He looks so in love, so utterly devoted, so overcome with admiration as he smiles lazily at his boyfriend, Goro only has it in him to be slightly furious.

.

.

In the months following the wedding, neither Haru or Makoto propose to the other, nor does Akira propose to Goro. But even after the wedding buzz has died down, Goro’s marriage fever rages on, to the point of being fatal, he might even say.

While Goro is usually polite, likable, and dare he say empathetic, scowling at the Sumire and Sakamoto has become second nature to him. As the ex Phantom Thieves sit around Ann’s living room for a game night, it’s them Goro looks at with disdain. It’s them Goro targets to ensure they lose in Conopoly. When Sumire rests her head on Sakamoto’s shoulder, Goro glares at the couple as though trying to summon a meteor to strike the earth.

He’s jealous of them, and he’s not ignorant enough to pretend he doesn’t know why. They’re married, and a married couple has a different air to them than a couple that’s dating. It’s just science! Goro isn’t jealous of Ann and Shiho cuddling on the couch, he’s not jealous of Makoto resting a hand on Haru’s thigh. It’s the husband and wife who irks him, Goro grinding his teeth from where he sits on Akira’s lap. Must Ryuji and Sumire rub their marital status in everyone’s faces? Are they that conceited? 

And it’s not just the PDA that has him so envious. Every flash of a ring, every headache inducing pet name, hearing stories about their honeymoon— Goro can barely contain his vitriol! When they’re referred to as Mr. and Mrs., Goro has to contain a sneer. When Sumire announces that her name change was approved, Goro seethes with resentment. He could’ve been Goro Akechi-Kurusu! He’s never wanted to wait in line at city hall to file documents so badly! When Ryuji leaves a bro’s night early saying he’s ‘gotta get back to the wife,’ Goro resists the urge to cast a Megidolaon to destroy the entire building and kill everyone inside. Why can’t he be a wife?!

Visiting the Yoshizawa-Sakamoto household is like a trek through purgatory. Framed photos of their wedding cover every surface (as in, there’s about two or three on the wall), and Yusuke’s 24 x 30 oil painting of the ceremony taunts Goro like an omen. His breaking point is when he steps into their bathroom and finds matching towels with their initials printed on it. It’s a miracle Goro didn’t go into cardiac arrest! Has he really become a person who yearns for couple’s towels? He can envision it in his own bathroom now: one towel for Akira, one towel for Goro, and one towel for Morgana.

The lack of being married is starting to affect Goro mentally, but he believes his line of thinking is logical and sound. It’s simply stupid to not get married! They would have full access to each other’s finances. How utterly romantic is that?! Not to mention the case of an emergency. If Akira were to get hit by a bus and hospitalized, Goro wouldn't be permitted to visit him as his boyfriend. He’d have to rely on Takemi’s intel for updates! Goro can’t let Akira get hit by a bus before they’re married! Who will inherit the coffee machine? Who will take custody of Morgana?

Another Valentine’s Day is right around the corner, and Goro vows to bring it up then. He’ll bravely clue Akira in on his desire to get married, and if Akira is so vehemently against the institution of marriage, perhaps they can work out a compromise. Goro will enlighten him on all the pros and cons of marriage which he neatly compiled into a powerpoint presentation. Of course, he’ll start the conversation in a professional yet firm manner. ‘So, darling, I was thinking about you getting hit by a bus…’

Goro spends most of their dinner reciting his speech in his head, which leads to him frequently staring at Akira with pinched brows, as though perplexed by his existence entirely. And Akira, who has at least a few working brain cells, asks Goro if something is wrong, to which Goro easily brushes him off. While the sushi is delicious, a home cooked meal prepared by you would be as, if not more delightful. He manages to escape Akira’s questioning without a hitch. Akira’s none the wiser to Goro’s plan to soft launch a proposal.

After dinner Akira takes Goro Seaside Park for an evening stroll. It’s not too crowded other than a few couples walking by, and while the February weather is certainly chilly, it only gives them a reason to cling to each other as they walk. It’s lovely, from the romantic lighting to the gentle waves of the nearby sea. But Goro’s detailed powerpoint presentation is on his laptop at home, and every moment he spends not engaged to Akira is sending him further into madness. 

While he’s not too keen on cutting their Valentine’s date short, Goro needs to return home so he can propose with a chart demonstrating the statistical decline in divorce rates. 

“I heard someone got mugged in Seaside Park,” Goro notes, very casually, when a jogger runs by. “I heard they got stabbed too.”

Akira’s brows pinch. “That was a few months ago, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but it could easily happen again.”

“As if you wouldn’t beat them to a pulp before they could put their hands on us,” Akira chuckles. “But if you’re worried about getting stabbed, don’t worry. You can use me as a flesh shield.”

Goro frowns. He needs to think of a new approach to get them home.

“Nonsense, Akira. I’m the only one getting penetrated tonight.”

Akira lifts a brow.

“Remember that lingerie set I wore for your birthday?” Goro continues. “Well, I happened to find something even more complicated.”

“...Does it have a garter belt?”

“Of course it does.”

“Fuck. You know I can’t resist you in a garter belt.”

“Oh, I’m aware. And I just so happen to be wearing it beneath my clothes right now.”

“Babe…” If it weren’t for his scarf, Goro would’ve seen Akira visibly swallow. “Let’s just walk along the beach before we go. The stars are beautiful tonight.”

Goro bites his tongue. Any more insistence on leaving would make Akira suspicious.

So they walk hand in hand along the path that leads to the beach, and it soon becomes evident that walking beside the ocean on a February night is not the best idea.

It’s windy, terribly so, with the occasional gust of wind so loud it’s difficult to hear anything else. But as windy as it is, it isn’t cloudy at all. The stars twinkle above the city skyline, and Rainbow Bridge shines with pink and red lights to celebrate the holiday, reflecting on the ocean’s surface like a mirror. It makes the water look like a love potion.

“You were right. The stars really are beautiful out here,” Goro muses.

“WHAT?”

“I SAID THE STARS ARE BEAUTIFUL,” Goro shouts over the wind.

“YOU’RE BEAUTIFULER.”

“WHAT?”

“I SAID YOU’RE BEAUTIFULER.”

“OH.” The cheesiness of the compliment fully hits Goro then, causing a blush to rise on his cheeks. He ducks his head into his scarf to hide it. “IDIOT.”

Akira grins boyishly before grabbing Goro by the hand and pulling him toward a pier that stretches into the water. It’s just as windy when they reach the end, but the strong gusts are less frequent, making it slightly easier to hear.

“Goro,” Akira starts, “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long, long time.”

“Come to Seaside Park?”

“No— Seaside Park is great, but I’m talking about something else.”

“Oh.” This sounds serious. “Care to enlighten me?”

Akira rubs the back of his neck. He suddenly looks… nervous. 

“We’ve been through so much together, Goro. You have no idea how hard it was not to do this when you first came back into my life, to make you mine right then and there. I’ve thought about it on every date we’ve been on, every time we’ve solved a case together, every time we’ve so much as gone to the store. It’s impossible to think there was ever a time where I didn’t love you. And it’s impossible for me to go any longer without asking—”

A gust of wind sweeps across the pier, a breeze so strong it takes Goro’s scarf with it.

“Shit!” He desperately tries to chase after it, to snatch it out of the air, something. But it’s taken by the ocean before he can react fast enough, and he stares at his fleeting scarf with limp shoulders. Goro really loved that scarf. It was one Ann got him for Christmas after she raided the wardrobe of a winter photoshoot. Goro would have to spend a fortune to replace it.

Worst of all, now he has to endure a February evening with a bare neck.

“Akira, give me your—”

He turns around to demand Akira lend him his scarf, only for his breath to catch at what he finds.

Goro immediately forgets about the scarf.

“Goro Akechi,” Akira’s voice wavers, lowered onto one knee. “Will you marry me?”

He opens the velvet box to reveal a black jewel. The ring glistens beneath the stars, as do Akira’s watery eyes as he waits for an answer, wearing a small smile that radiates with hope.

It’s the same ring Goro tried on last year. The ring he found in Ryuji’s jacket pocket. The ring that made Goro so excited he squealed to Morgana that his boyfriend wanted to marry him.

Goro laughs. And then his laugh turns into a cackle, and his cackle turns ugly. He’s confused and relieved and so giddy he feels manic, because all this time he agonized over Akira not wanting to marry him, and now he realizes how foolish he was. Of course Akira wants to marry him! They have the hottest, fiercest, most passionate relationship, incomprehensible to the average human mind! Their love is stronger than the will of multiple gods. And Akira… He’s the most romantic person Goro knows. Of course he’d want to put a ring on his sexy arm candy.

“Akira,” Goro rasps between his frenzied laughter, hardly able to catch his breath, “How long— Ha! How long have you had that ring?!”

“Oh, um. Like a year and a half.”

“And you’re only using it now?”

“I was going to propose last Valentine’s Day,” Akira stammers, “Until our New Year’s party when Ryuji told me he wanted to propose to Sumi. He was really nervous about it too, so he asked for my help. And it meant I had to postpone my plan. I love them to death, but I really didn’t want to share the spotlight.”

“And you didn’t think to tell him to wait his turn?”

“You wanted me to trust Ryuji with top secret information? While he was drunk? He probably would’ve ran right up to you and told you I was planning to propose.”

“I… suppose that was rather smart on your part.” All the pieces are falling into place. There’s just one thing that doesn’t add up. “Why did you hide the ring in Ryuji’s jacket?”

“What?”

“That ugly yellow gym jacket Sakamoto leant you last year? The one he used to hide Sumire’s ring? My ring was in the pocket.”

Akira’s eyes widen. “You knew about that?!”

“I happened to stumble across it, yes. I was rather shocked when Sakamoto barged into our apartment and demanded you return it.”

“I was just…constantly hiding it in new places. I had it for a year and a half, Goro. You would’ve found it if I wasn’t moving it around. I kept it in my work desk for a while. It was the perfect hiding spot, until you visited me during my lunch break like some kind of lustful siren and began scouring the drawers for lube. Almost gave me a heart attack.”

A laugh slips past Goro’s lips. He was so hellbent on getting fucked he didn’t notice the box containing his engagement ring.

“Fine,” he deadpans.

“What?”

“I’ll marry you.”

“You will?!” If Akira had a tail, he’d most certainly be wagging it.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” With a smile, Goro holds out his hand for Akira to present the ring. "You've been waiting for this for a year and a half, haven't you?"

"I've waited forever." Akira slips the ring onto his finger, and it looks even better than Goro remembers.

“Come here,” he demands in a feral voice, grinning as he yanks Akira up by the hair. They immediately find each other’s lips, their first kiss as an engaged couple, fiancés. Their enthusiasm leads to clumsiness, with their noses knocking together as they try to swallow each other whole, the wind causing Goro’s hair to repeatedly smack them both in the face. Yet to Goro, it feels perfect, and he can tell Akira thinks the same. They’re always on the same page, always so in tune with each other. Soulmates.

And it’s only a matter of time before they’re husbands.

Goro supposes he won’t be needing that powerpoint anymore.

The lingerie under his clothes, however, will certainly come in handy.