Work Text:
A year ago, if someone were to mention to Goro that one day he’d trust a vampire enough to let them anywhere near the back of his neck, he would have laughed in their face.
After all, vampires were all the same. They were vile soulless monsters who’d sooner drink a human dry for the fun of it than let them live. That had been the harsh reality of Goro’s world for years, and he’d accepted the laws of the universe in the same way that he’d accepted that the sky is blue and that the grass is green.
Of course, that was all before he met Akira Kurusu.
“You can be rough with me, I’m not going to break,” Goro says from his position face-down and ass-up on the mattress, completely naked and vulnerable with his immortal vampiric lover positioned behind him.
Nowadays, the time for fear has long passed, and Goro refuses to see himself and Akira as anything besides equals—two beings who were brought together by fate and who have been through hell and back ever since. The only fear that remains is the worry that Akira might see him as weak, that Akira might be treating him like a fragile little human when he would treat one of his own kind far differently.
In response to his prior words, Akira presses his lips against the small of his back. “I know you won’t, sweetheart,” he says. “But I want to take my time with you.”
“Haven’t you had enough time for that?” Goro asks, looking back at Akira with a brow arched in disbelief. Wriggling his ass in a way he intends to be the epitome of temptation, he lowers his voice to a seductive purr and says; “Your sentimentality was cute the first dozen times, but isn’t it about time you took what you were owed?”
Akira makes a face. “I won’t ever get tired of you.”
“That’s not what—“
Akira playfully slaps his ass, just hard enough that Goro’s next words are cut off with a startled yelp.
“It is,” Akira says, his hands now massaging his ass, the gentle motions mirroring his soothing tone.
Without a retort to give, Goro shoves his face into the pillow and grumbles something unintelligible, a mindless half-hearted complaint not intended to be heard. In truth, Goro thinks that over time, Akira has been the one to make him soft. Now, beyond all things, exists the ever-present bone-deep desire to be marked and claimed in a way that Goro had once feared more than anything. Now he wants Akira to sink his teeth into the meat of his thigh, and the junction of his neck and shoulder–carving his name in the form of a delicate little scar.
Of course, Goro has long learned that vampire bites don’t scar in the way that he wished they did. They’re more akin to a hickey or a bruise, even lighter when the bite-giver is especially gentle in the way that Akira always is. Akira has always been known to extract pleasure from the pain, to build castles out of the smallest building blocks of sensation, and allowing Goro to soar to new heights with every brush of his hands or lips against his skin.
Akira plays with the flesh of his ass for a while longer, his fingers never straying to the places that Goro so desperately needs him. It’s all Goro can do to huff into the pillow, allowing Akira to do what he wants while Goro’s neglected cock hangs between his legs; hard and throbbing. He could cry with his need to have something buried in his ass already.
It’s just when Goro is about to demand for Akira to fucking do something already, that Akira abruptly spreads his cheeks apart, and Goro makes a choked noise at the feeling of something warm and wet licking directly across his hole.
“Akira!” He hisses, cursing and writhing on the bedsheets. “You disgusting, insatiable—ngh!” The sensation comes again, Akira’s tongue sliding across his rim and pressing slightly inside of him, just enough to make him groan into the pillow.
He feels Akira chuckle against him, his face still buried in his ass, and the thought of how they have to look right now is unseemly enough that blood instantly rushes to his already hard cock.
Akira’s eating him out, and Goro can’t help but laugh at the thought. “If I had known all vampires wanted to eat was my ass I would have offered it up years ago,” he says in a moment of slight hysterics, unable to get over the irony of a vampire eating out his ass when he should be sucking him dry in a much more deadly way. It’d been surprising enough when Akira had sucked him off for the first time, his fangs in constant danger of grazing the sensitive skin of his dick, but somehow the knowledge that those fangs are now so close to his most intimate place…it’s more thrilling than it has any right to be.
His words, however, don’t seem to amuse Akira in the same way. Instead, Akira makes a sound deep in his throat that’s akin to a growl, a glimpse of that primal vampiric nature of his rising to the surface. The sound causes Goro to automatically shudder on reflex, even though fear is the furthest emotion from his mind right now.
“Mine,” Akira mutters, his voice slightly muffled before another slow lick glides across his hole, causing another rush of heat to converge at Goro’s cock. “No one else is allowed to see you like this.”
“Allowed, hmm?” Goro questions between stuttered moans and breathless pants. “And you’re the one deciding that?”
“Do you object?”
Goro grins, sharp enough to show a flash of teeth as he looks back to meet Akira’s eyes. “I might if you don’t move on with this.”
Predictably, a certain degree of pure heat lights up in Akira’s gaze, indicative of the fact that something within him immediately responds to the challenge. He caresses Goro’s ass with his hands again, his touch reverent, before he places a single chaste kiss on the right cheek.
“Tell me what you want,” Akira murmurs.
He sounds so vulnerable and sincere that a lump forms in Goro’s throat, a well of emotion flooding him until he’s in danger of being cast out to sea, if not for the promise of the shore. A few moments ago his answer would have been a simple and crude: ‘fuck me into the mattress already, you fiend.’ But now he wants something more, something that Akira is always hesitant to take even when Goro is more than willing to give.
Pushing himself up from the mattress, Goro turns so that he can fully face Akira. When he’s rightfully seated on the bed, he extends an arm so he can cup Akira’s cheek. Beneath his fingers, he feels flawless immortal skin that Goro will never get to see a flush of warmth color pink, nor will he get to see wrinkles form beneath Akira’s eyes in their impossible version of forever.
“I want you to drink from me,” Goro says, not for the first time, although that doesn’t mean the words carry any less weight.
Sure enough, Akira gives a slightly choked laugh and shakes his head. “Didn’t you want me to fuck you?”
“Are you saying you’re incapable of doing both?” Goro asks with an arched brow, watching as Akira tugs awkwardly at his fringe in an adorably human little nervous gesture.
“I just fed from you last night, I shouldn’t—”
“You asked me what I wanted, and I gave you my answer,” Goro cuts him off, his gaze hard. “I would have thought you’d know I was strong enough by now.”
Akira hesitates for a long moment, and when he speaks his voice is quiet, with a long-suffering edge to his tone that Goro has always hated with all of his being.
“It’s not you who I don’t trust.”
And Goro almost laughs at the utter melodrama. Because Goro knows that Akira likes the look of the marks he leaves against Goro’s skin. He’s seen the way Akira’s eyes linger on the spots the next morning, or how he’ll trail his fingers across them when he thinks Goro’s lost in the throes of sleep—his touch reverent and his eyes dark with hunger. Goro knows exactly what Akira wants to do with him, the problem is trying to get him to take it for himself.
“Akira,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “You won’t even get rough with me when I ask you to. Enough with the overprotective bullshit, if I didn’t like it, I’d tell you. And if I ever thought you were taking too much and you refused to stop, then I’d just have to kill you.”
Goro says the last part with a perfectly innocent little quirk of his lips, earning an amused look from Akira.
“Confident, are we?”
“I’ve met puppies with more backbone,” Goro rebuts with a savage grin he hopes conveys the depths of his affection.
“Oh, now you’re just being mean,” Akira says with another chuckle. However, in the next moment, his smile falls and his expression turns more morose. “Did I ruin the mood again?”
Goro kicks him lightly with his foot. “A little, but I trust you can make it up to me.”
With that, Goro lays back against the mattress again, a meaningful glint in his eyes as he spreads his legs once more. As if a switch has been flipped, Akira’s eyes turn dark and predatory, a hunter preparing to strike and devour his favorite meal. Deciding to give him a little show, Goro brings a hand to his own cock and slowly strokes himself, thumbing over the head with a sharp inhale and relishing in the feeling of Akira’s gaze following his every move.
“Well, are you going to fuck me or not?” Goro purrs with his eyes half-lidded, and he almost laughs at the speed in which Akira reaches for the bedside drawer to obtain the bottle of lube.
Once it’s in hand, Akira uncaps the bottle and pours some into his palm, warming it between his hands. He lowers himself back between Goro’s spread thighs and slowly inserts one finger into his waiting rim. Goro gives a soft little sigh at the sensation, resting back more comfortably against the pillows as Akira gently works him open. His single finger isn’t nearly enough to satiate him, but it serves as a promise of more to come, and Goro can’t help but savor the image of Akira working so dutifully between his legs.
Soon enough, another finger is prodding against his rim. Akira adds that one alongside the first, causing Goro to groan and wriggle his hips a little as things begin to get a bit more interesting. As his two fingers begin to piston in and out of his hole, Akira’s lips trail against the soft skin of his inner thigh, and Goro gasps at the faint brush of fangs against the sensitive skin, goosebumps rising to the surface as he shivers. Akira looks up, meeting his eyes and Goro swallows thickly, understanding exactly what he means. With a silent tremor of excitement, Goro takes a deep breath and gives Akira a small nod of permission.
The pain of Akira’s fangs sinking into his soft sensitive flesh is immediate, and Goro can’t help but whimper, his body seizing up and his fingers digging into the bedsheets. His heartbeat increases and his breath comes in pants, eyes closing as he braces himself for the feeling he knows will follow.
Only, his attention is pulled away by the feeling of Akira quirking his fingers in just the right way, and he cries out as Akira deftly presses against his prostate. Goro’s hips jerk and pull, aggravating the slight pain of Akira’s teeth in his thigh in the most delicious of ways. By now the pain has faded into a more pleasant tingle, Akira’s venom an electrifying salve that only enhances the sensation of Goro’s own blood slowly leaving him—heart racing at the knowledge that a part of his body is becoming part of Akira’s own. The familiar intimacy makes more heat flow through him, a warmth that only feeds his straining erection and makes him whimper as Akira continues to pump his fingers in and out of his hole.
It’s all so much, and it’s all Goro can do to throw his head back and ride the waves of pleasure, his hand drifting down to his cock and giving it a few rapid pumps before his entire body trembles with a broken moan and he comes all over his hand and stomach.
In his post-orgasmic haze, Goro’s distantly aware of Akira’s fangs sliding from his thigh and his fingers slipping out of his hole, leaving him achingly empty.
The next thing he’s aware of is Akira staring down at him, his silver eyes bright and absolutely ravenous while faint traces of blood dot his lips. The sight shouldn’t be nearly as attractive as it is, and yet Goro suddenly needs him more than he needs air to breathe.
“More, please,” Goro slurs, dazed and feeling as needy and insatiable as he did before his orgasm. “I want more.”
“Whatever you need, honey,” Akira says with so much sincerity it aches. He brushes his bloodstained lips against Goro’s cheek before getting into position, the tip of his cock prodding at Goro’s hole. Practically trembling in anticipation, Goro throws a leg over Akira’s waist and pulls him in as close as he can.
As Akira finally slides into him, Goro gives a breathless little moan. He feels every inch of Akira’s cock as he’s slowly filled, and he relishes in the moment that Akira’s hips are flush against his ass, knocking the breath from his lungs. It takes him a moment to adjust to the deep stretch and subtle burn, but Goro is experienced enough that it doesn’t take him long before he relaxes and begins to move his hips in a silent demand for more. Quick on the uptake, Akira slowly pulls out, only to slam back home again, the sound of their skin slapping together loud and obscene in the quiet of the room. Goro releases a fractured moan, his hips arching up involuntarily in a desperate bid to somehow get more of him. Knowing what he wants, what he needs, Goro tilts his head back, baring his throat to Akira who makes a choked sound at the obvious meaning. But before he can even try to argue, Goro grabs him by the hair and pulls him forward until Akria’s lips are positioned perfectly above his pulse point, his breath dusting across the sensitive skin of Goro’s neck.
“Please,” Goro whimpers.
Goro Akechi has never begged for anything, it’s one of his cardinal rules, and yet he’ll beg for this-–too desperate and horny to give a fuck. And it serves its purpose, because with a low noise that sounds almost like a growl, Akira dips his head down and sinks his fangs into the junction between Goro’s neck and shoulder. The pleasure is more immediate this time, his system already carrying the effects of the venom. It makes Goro cry out, his hands scrambling for purchase on anything that he can reach—which just so happens to be Akira’s back and shoulders. He digs his nails into his skin, scratching rivulets that are sure to leave a mark in the morning, and yet Akira just gives a muffled groan and continues to drink from him, his hips speeding up into a steady series of deep thrusts.
“Oh fuck, oh god–” Goro curses, babbling meaningless little things, unable to focus on anything outside from the pure euphoria he gets from the feeling of giving so much of himself to Akira, combined with the feeling of Akira’s perfect cock fucking into him. In the same way as always, it’s as if he’s being remade, completely consumed and then winded into something important. Beautiful. Worth loving. He feels how gently Akira holds his waist, careful not to bruise, and the tenderness in which he suckles at his neck. It’s all Goro can do to clutch onto him and allow the heat to rapidly build inside of him.
Without warning, Akira adjusts his angle, his hands effortlessly lifting Goro’s lower half so that every thrust shakes Goro to his very core. Goro’s legs tighten around his middle, and like this, Akira’s cock is able to penetrate him even deeper, filling the room with the obscene sound of wet slapping combined with Goro’s breathless little gasps and whines. All the while, Goro’s own length brushes against Akira’s stomach with every motion, hard and leaking between their bodies, the friction only adding to the ever-increasing fire inside of him. It’s absolutely mind-melting, addictive on a completely primal level that sings to the depths of Goro’s soul. It’s as if this is what he had been made for—to take Akira’s cock and subsist in the sanctity of his arms while sharing the blood that flows through his veins. He vaguely wonders if being connected like this will form a tether that will bind them eternally.
“Please don’t stop,” Goro manages, his voice breathless and wanton. And it’s then that Akira shifts his hips just enough to thrust directly against his prostate and the next words are ripped from Goro’s throat in a fractured cry. The fire within him reaches a burning peak and spills over, his entire body convulsing with the sheer force of his orgasm. All the while, Akira fucks him through it, a low muffled groan escaping his lips as Goro no doubt tightens around his cock, his thrusts becoming a little more frenzied in response.
When the aftershocks subsceed, Goro flops bonelessly against the mattress, only barely managing to keep his legs wrapped around Akira’s waist, only holding firm due to the fear that Akira might get the idea of pulling out. Akira does, however, slip his fangs from Goro’s neck, sealing the wound with his tongue before moving to kiss Goro on the mouth. It’s a filthy kiss, filled with the taste of his own blood, and Goro can’t help but groan into it, licking into Akira’s mouth and taking back some of what had been freely given.
“More…” Goro slurs against Akira’s lips when Akira thoughtfully remembers to pull back to let him breathe. “You…can take more.”
Pulling a little further away to look at him, Akira just gazes at him softly, his eyes holding all the unbridled affection in the world. “That’s enough, sweetheart,” he says. “You already gave me so much. You were so good for me.”
Pathetically, tears instantly blur Goro’s eyes, and he hides his face by dragging Akira back down and burying it in his shoulder, winding his arms tightly around his chest as Akira gently continues fucking into him with small but efficicent little rolls of his hips. It’s not the rough fucking that Goro had wanted earlier, but it stokes a slow and steady fire inside of him that’s perfect for his dazed state of mind. It allows him to focus on every thrust of Akira’s cock deep inside of him, on every bit of pressure against his prostate as Akira slides back out—and then thrusts back in again. It’s a fractured and stunted rhythm that picks up in speed as Akira stiffens, telling Goro that he’s approaching his own release.
Goro tightens his thighs and arms around him. “I want you to come inside of me,” he murmurs.
With a low guttural moan, Akira’s hips jerk one last time before he stills and Goro echoes his moan at the sensation of his release filling him. It lasts for only a brief wonderful moment before Akira is pulling out and peppering his face with kisses, murmuring an embarrassing litany of praises while Goro grumbles and half-heartedly attempts to shove him away.
“Have I mentioned how perfect you are?” Akira asks, grinning down at him, so vibrant, immortal, and not even the slightest bit winded after all of that. The bastard.
“A few times. But another doesn’t hurt.”
“Okay, good.”
With that, Akira settles behind him and wraps an arm around Goro’s waist, pulling him in close. Goro can’t help but give a contented little hum at the motion, his eyelids heavy and already falling shut from the combination of two mind-blowing orgasms and his blood loss. It’s a feeling that he’s grown accustomed to, and he can’t help but enjoy how quiet his head becomes, his brain too tired to overthink and dwell on things outside of his control.
“Get some sleep,” Akira murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the delicate skin at the back of his neck.
And while Akira himself might not sleep, Goro knows that he’ll stay here watching over him anyway. To think that he’d one day feel safe in the arms of a vampire. It still seems like such an impossible thought, like some kind of fucked up dream that he’d wake up from after too many glasses of wine.
And yet, he can’t help but settle in just a little closer, smiling to himself when he feels Akira’s arm tighten around him in turn. It’s a warmth that emanates not from skin-to-skin contact, but from a place deep inside him. It allows him this one respite from the rest of the world—from the harsh unforgiving reality that lives outside this bedroom.
It’s a feeling of peace that guides him into a dreamless sleep.