Chapter Text
He showed up about halfway through a Monday night shift at Crossroads, catching Akira’s attention the moment he walked in. Maybe twenty-five or so, well-dressed in an expensive-looking shirt and tight pants, with deep red eyes and honey-colored hair. Akira watched as the new object of his desire perched himself on the barstool by the far wall. He looked out over the small crowd of people, but from the look on his face, evidently he didn’t see anything he liked. There were mostly women here tonight – maybe he was gay. Hopefully he was gay, or at least bisexual.
“Can I help you?” Akira asked in his most charming voice, leaning on the bar, and the man turned to Akira. He stared at him for a moment, unblinking, and then broke into a warm smile and fuck, he was really fucking cute. Akira was doomed.
“I think perhaps you can,” he said, in a smooth, pleasant voice that was not helping the current situation. “I’ll have a cocktail – anything fruity.”
Akira smiled back and turned around. They had a few drink specials that week, so he picked the Neon Moon and set about mixing parfait d’amour, lemon, and tonic.
“One ‘anything fruity’ for the gentleman,” he said, setting the cocktail down in front of the man, who sipped lightly at it and cocked his head slightly for a moment, considering.
“Delicious,” he said, eyeing Akira with a secretive smile. "My name is Akechi, by the way."
No given name, but Akira didn't push him. "Kurusu Akira. Nice meeting you."
The bar wasn’t too busy that night, so they made small talk, as bartenders and clients do. Honestly it was almost silly, but Akira was so used to flirting harmlessly with the customers that it took him a good few minutes to notice this one was flirting back.
“So how long have you been working here?” he asked, looking up at Akira through his eyelashes.
“Oh, since high school,” Akira said easily. “Lala-chan only let me serve nonalcoholic drinks and clean back then, of course, but now I’m the bartender three days a week. Sometimes I dress up, too. Lala-chan taught me all of it – you should see me in five inch heels.” Suddenly he wished he had dressed up as Ren-chan today, just so he could have looked half as gorgeous as the man in front of him.
“Really? Well, I can't say I wouldn't love to see that, but...” Akechi let his eyes drag down to Akira's hips and all the way back up. “Don’t worry. I think you look delicious just like this.”
“Speak for yourself, beautiful,” Akira said, leaning on his elbows.
Akechi laughed a little. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” he said, wrapping his lips around the straw of his drink in a way that had Akira’s breath catching in his throat.
Akechi swallowed, set the drink down on the bar, and gave Akira an alluring smile. “When do you get off work?” he asked delicately, smoothing a drop of condensation across the wood with his finger.
Akira blinked. “Oh, I – about another hour, maybe–”
He looked a little pleadingly over at Lala-chan, who didn’t even bother to pretend she hadn’t been listening to them.
“... Oh, who am I to stand in the way of young love?” she sighed, waving her sleeve in front of her face. “Just this once, honey. Clean and restock your station, then you can go.”
Akira beamed, and Akechi gave him a little smile from the bar.
They talked a little more while he cleaned, meaningless chatter really, just excuses to look at each other a little bit more. When Akira had to go to the back for restocking, Akechi slipped off of his barstool, murmuring, “I’ll meet you outside.”
Akira hurried through the last steps of his closing duties, feeling like he was floating. He almost forgot to take off his apron in his absentmindedness, but once it was hung on its hook, he called a goodbye to Lala-chan and made a beeline for the door.
As soon as Akira emerged into the night air, he locked eyes with Akechi, leaning in the entryway just a few steps away. Akechi smiled when he saw him, pushing himself up from the wall. He walked over to Akira, hips swaying slowly in what Akira was sure was an exaggerated fashion, but that didn't seem to matter when it drew his eye so well.
“Come on,” he said, slipping his hand into Akira’s and pulling him away from Crossroads. Akira followed readily, only for Akechi to take a sharp left into an alleyway, crowding him up against a wall and pressing their lips together with frantic urgency.
It wasn’t what Akira had envisioned, but Akechi’s lips were soft and smooth and perfect on his own, and he wrapped his arms around Akechi’s waist to pull him closer as their mouths slid together.
They made out for a few minutes, but eventually, Akira felt Akechi’s hand on his stomach. He unbuckled Akira’s belt with practiced ease, sliding his hand inside and curling his manicured fingers around Akira’s cock, pumping it with light, slow strokes.
Akira blinked. Sure, Akechi’s hand felt like fucking heaven where it was touching him, but...
But... were they really going to do this here?
Akira’s head swam with every breath he took, tinted with the sweet perfume Akechi was wearing, and Akechi’s lips felt so good against his own that he almost forgot his objections entirely. He gathered all his concentration and pushed Akechi back for a moment.
“Wait,” he said, “I don’t really want to...”
A flicker of irritation passed over Akechi's face, gone so quickly Akira wasn't sure if he'd really seen it.
“Trying to change your mind, hm?” he said, and it almost sounded lighthearted, but the sharp edge to his tone said otherwise.
“No, I – of course I want you, I just–” That seemed to mollify him, and Akechi tilted his head without changing his expression, letting Akira have room to speak. “I just... thought I could take you home? It’s... it’s nicer there. Better than the alley.”
Honestly he had the feeling he’d end up fucking Akechi anywhere he wanted him to, if Akechi really set his mind to it, but he’d been thinking about laying the man out in bed and worshiping him properly, and a dirty Shinjuku alleyway didn’t really seem conducive to that kind of thing.
Akechi watched him for a long moment, an oddly neutral expression on his face for someone who currently had Akira's dick in his hand.
“Well, aren't you a gentleman,” he said eventually, and swooped back in to press a dizzying kiss to the line of Akira's jaw.
“All right, then,” he murmured against the shell of his ear, re-fastening his pants. “Take me home with you, pretty boy.”
You're one to talk, Akira wanted to say as they left the alley. He didn’t think he’d ever seen someone so attractive in his life.
Shinjuku was normally starting to quiet down a little by the time Akira’s shift ended, but since he’d left early today, the crowd was still at its thickest, loud and rowdy as they threaded their way through and turned onto the street leading to the train station. As they walked, Akechi reached for his wrist again, and Akira’s heart fluttered. He flexed his wrist a little, trying to catch Akechi’s hand in his own, but it quickly became clear that wasn’t what Akechi had been after when he reached back and set Akira’s hand firmly on his ass.
Akira was almost disappointed – almost being the operative word, as he wasn’t sure disappointment was an emotion he could even access with his hand on the best ass he’d ever seen. He really wasn’t the type to grope his partner like this even if they were about to hook up, but Akechi had seemed to want him to, and his head still felt pleasantly light from the makeout session earlier, and it felt so good moving under his palm anyway that he really didn’t want to stop. His fingers twitched in a light, hesitant squeeze, and Akechi practically purred in response, lighting up the reward center of Akira’s brain like a switchboard. It was a good thing no one would really look twice at them in Shinjuku, because he had absolutely no intention of letting go.
Eventually of course, he did have to, when they reached the train station. Akira held the door open for Akechi, and Akechi allowed himself to be led through the gates and up the stairs to the Chūō-Sōbu local line. The platform was empty except for them and the faint, prerecorded sounds of birdsong, and almost immediately Akechi backed him up against a vending machine to make out lazily until a melody over the loudspeakers announced that a train was approaching.
The last car slid to a stop in front of them, and they stepped inside. It was almost empty at this time of night, with a few other passengers dotting the seats, but the majority were still open, and Akira let Akechi choose a seat before lowering himself into the one next to it.
Akechi scooted closer, smiling, and slipped a hand under his upper arm. Akira smiled back, thinking he wanted to lay his head on his shoulder and cuddle – only to stifle a yelp of surprise as Akechi pulled him in with surprising strength, landing him practically face-first in the crook of Akechi’s neck. He struggled to sit back up for a moment out of pure reactive instinct, but then that distinctive scent hit his nose again and his limbs went slack.
He still had no idea what kind of perfume it might be, but at least now he could identify it a little better. It was sweet and heady, with a hint of what might be dessert spice – now that Akira was practically inhaling it, his mouth was filled with the taste of nutmeg and vanilla.
And fuck, it smelled so good he didn’t even want to move. Akechi started stroking his hair as he lay there practically boneless, and the smell was making him sleepy and happy and slow as the train rumbled around them, and he felt himself getting pleasantly hard in his pants again – although he didn’t really feel like moving his limbs to do anything about it, which was probably for the best. He wouldn’t get to fuck Akechi if he got himself arrested on a public indecency charge. Akira drifted off like that, drowsy and content and enjoying the feeling of Akechi’s fingers in his hair. Petting him.
After what felt like forever, Akechi said during one of the stop announcements, “Didn’t you say you lived in Kichijōji?”
“What?” Akira mumbled into the collar of his shirt, struggling to process the question.
Akechi sighed and stood abruptly, grabbing Akira by the arm to stop him from face-planting into the empty seat. “Up, come on,” he said, already starting to walk, and Akira stumbled frantically after him to avoid being left behind.
The night air outside the train station brought him back to his senses a little, but only a little. Akechi still had him by the arm, after all.
“Address?” Akechi asked sweetly, and when Akira had given it to him he started walking without looking back. Akira followed, still dazed, but that was okay. Akechi knew where to lead him. They were almost home.
Akechi’s scent was stronger now, almost like... like he was doing it on purpose or something, now that they were the only ones on the street. That didn’t make any sense, but Akira’s brain was a little too fuzzy and soft to really think about anything right now. Whatever functioning brain cells he had left were trying to determine the exact type of spices he could pick out of the scent. He was pretty sure there was some clove in there.
Akira was so absorbed, in fact, that he almost tripped and faceplanted on the stairs to his own apartment complex. Again he was saved by Akechi catching him, and he blinked dazedly at the other man as he pulled him up to stand face to face.
“Better be careful,” Akechi said with a slight smirk. “I can’t have you dying before you fuck me properly.”
────────
It took them almost fifteen minutes to actually get up the two flights of stairs to Akira’s apartment. As soon as Akechi didn’t have to rely on Akira to get them to the right address anymore, he seemed intent on kissing every last thought out of his brain – on every landing, against the balcony wall on the third floor, and against Akira’s door when they actually reached it. Finally, somehow, they tumbled through his front door, kicking their shoes off in the genkan without even looking to see where they landed, and Akira realized his bed was within reach.
In an uncharacteristically assertive display of strength, he seized Akechi and lifted him off of his feet, carrying him down the hall. Akechi seemed more than content with this, wrapping his legs around Akira’s waist and letting out high, sweet moans in between kissing his neck.
Akira kicked open the bedroom door as best he could without losing his balance, and managed to lay Akechi gently on the bed instead of dropping him. Akechi moved back, closer to the headboard, while Akira kicked his pants and socks off and crawled up onto the mattress after him to be pulled in for a long, searing kiss.
“Here, let me,” he said once they broke apart, and reached for the waist of Akechi’s pants. Akechi lifted his hips obligingly, letting Akira pull them off and drop them over the side of the bed.
As soon as it was done, Akechi was on his knees on the bedspread, and his lips were on Akira’s, and he was working Akira’s cock through his boxers, drawing a long, desperate moan out of him.
“Fuck, you’re big,” Akechi breathed appreciatively in the space between their mouths. “I won’t be able to fucking walk tomorrow...”
“I’ll carry you,” Akira said, sliding his arms around Akechi’s waist. “If – ngh, if you even want to leave the bed–”
“Full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Actually, I was hoping that would be you.”
Akechi went still for a moment, then let out a pitchy, fake-sounding laugh. He immediately went back to massaging Akira’s erection, pulling him in by the collar of his shirt with the other hand for a kiss, not letting him come up for air. And honestly, Akira would have been more than fine with getting straight to the sex already, but–
A meow had Akechi springing back from him in surprise, both of them looking around for a moment before Akira spotted a black shape crouched in the spot where moonlight shone onto the carpet.
“Oh, it’s Morgana,” Akira said, perking up before remembering they’d been in the middle of something. “Mona, you really shouldn’t be in here...”
Morgana’s blue eyes flicked from Akira to the newcomer, and to Akira’s shock, he hissed loudly. Akira wasn’t sure he’d ever heard him hiss before. Mona was loud and he liked to complain, but outright hostility seemed completely out of character.
“Morgana,” Akira started in a scolding tone, but he was cut off as Akechi let out a surprisingly catlike hiss in return. Morgana’s fur bristled in alarm as his back arched, letting out a low growling sound. Akechi hissed again, louder, and the cat fled the bedroom, leaving a yowl of offense in his wake.
“What – why’d you do that?” Akira asked, confused as he turned back to Akechi.
“I didn’t want him interrupting. He’s a cat, he’ll be fine. His ego is just bruised.”
“But I could have put him out, you didn’t have to...”
“Yes, you’d have gotten up and left me wanting so you could go fuss over your pet. I’m far too impatient for that,” Akechi said, pulling him back in by the collar of his unbuttoned shirt and taking the opportunity to slip it off of him while they kissed. Akira melted back into it for a few moments, before a loud noise startled him, whipping around to see the bedroom door now closed.
“How...?” he started, but was interrupted by Akechi physically turning him back around.
“I said,” he kissed Akira hard, “I’m impatient.”
Akira was going to reply, but a sudden dizzy spell left him swaying in place for a moment. He blinked hard, trying to clear his head to no avail, and Akechi brushed his fingertips under his chin, directing him to make eye contact.
“I’m tired of waiting, Akira,” he murmured. “Are you going to fuck me, or are you going to sit there and talk?”
Fuck me. That was... that was what he was here for. To fuck Akechi. He’d been waiting to do it all evening, he was going to – to fuck Akechi, because Akechi wanted him to, and he wanted to make Akechi happy. His eyes were... they were so pretty.
Akechi smiled at him with his pretty, pretty eyes. “That's right,” he purred, running his hands through Akira’s hair. “Get nice and stupid for me. You don’t need to think, you just need to be a good boy, don’t you?”
“Y–yeah,” Akira agreed distantly, more out of an automatic instinct to respond than a real comprehension of what was being said to him. Something about the combination of Akechi’s eyes and voice and mind-numbing scent just seemed to tug at his brain like a leash, pulling him in the direction of compliance with a firm and gentle hand so that he never even thought to disobey. It settled in perfectly with Akira’s own natural tendency to try to please his sexual partners, playing to that desire with ease and quieting every other thought until all he wanted to do was whatever Akechi told him to do.
“Get rid of the underwear, pet,” Akechi said smoothly, and Akira practically fell over himself in his hurry to comply. He tossed his boxers away, leaving his cock out for Akechi to see, tall and hard and already dripping with arousal. Akechi bit his lip appreciatively, and Akira shivered, feeling another drop of clear precum leak from the tip. He didn’t break down begging to see Akechi naked, too, but it was a close thing.
Finally, finally, Akechi reached down and slid his black underwear off of his hips, shifting to kick it away, and Akira blinked in confusion for a long moment before he realized Akechi didn’t actually have a cock, and he was instead looking at the glistening pink opening of his cunt. Not that that was a bad thing, not by any means, but reconciling the new information with the vision he’d had in his head all evening was quite the feat when his brain barely felt capable of stringing two thoughts together.
“I assume you’ve seen one of these before?” Akechi prompted him after another long moment, voice tinged a little with irritation.
“Can I eat you out?” Akira burst out, jerking his head back up to stare Akechi desperately in the eyes. He hadn’t even known it was a possibility for tonight until about five seconds ago, but now that the option was available to him, all he could fucking think about was burying his head between Akechi’s thighs and licking until he couldn’t even speak anymore. It was even more tempting than the long-established thought of fucking Akechi’s hole (he’d just had to change which hole he was planning on).“Please?”
Akechi blinked, tilted his head, then laughed, high and airy. “And here I didn’t even ask! Well, if you want it so badly...” He moved aside, clicking his fingers and pointing to the spot where he’d just been. “Lie down. On your back.”
Akira practically flung himself onto the mattress, and his brain slowly pieced together what was about to happen about half a second before Akechi lowered himself onto his face, lower lips aligning perfectly with his mouth.
Akira moved immediately, hooking his arms around Akechi’s plush thighs for stability and spiking his tongue deep into his cunt with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He’d been told he was good at oral, multiple times. He could do this.
“Fuck!” he heard Akechi swearing above him. “No wonder you, no wonder you a–asked to – unh, ohhh, fuck–”
Akira’s heart leaped and he redoubled his efforts, completely uncaring of the loud, downright disgusting noises he was making in the process. That was just a sign you were doing it right – and so were the rich moans and stifled curses coming from Akechi as he threw his head back, grinding down onto Akira’s tongue and soaking the lower half of his face. It wasn’t long, or at least didn’t feel like it, before Akechi shuddered in orgasm above him with a shriek of pleasure.
Before Akira could even think about getting some air, Akechi had seized a handful of his hair, pinning him to the spot and uttering a sharp, raspy-voiced command: “Keep fucking going!”
And that was the point where Akira really lost track of things for a bit, as he of course obeyed, dragging his tongue through the musk of Akechi’s orgasm and sucking on his clit. Akechi shifted above him, changing position slightly, and a warm, wet pair of lips slid over the tip of Akira’s cock, drawing a moan of surprise out of him as his hips almost bucked instinctively. Akechi’s hand pressed down hard on one hip, keeping him from doing so, which was probably for the best. There was no way Akira could be expected to maintain any self-control at all with Akechi’s tongue swirling around the head of his cock and Akechi’s cunt drowning him in the smell and taste of heaven.
All too quickly, he distantly recognized the signs of his own approaching orgasm, and for a moment thought returned to him – mostly concern for Akechi, who had by this point practically swallowed his cock whole with a surprising lack of gag reflex. He didn’t dare stop licking, he’d been ordered not to and all he wanted was to be a good boy – but he squeezed Akechi’s thigh urgently, trying to signal for him to move back. Akechi seemed determined to ignore him, though – if anything he managed to bear down even further – and so unable to hold back anymore, Akira came directly down his throat, thoughts collapsing into mindless ecstasy as he dutifully worked another orgasm out of Akechi.
Finally, Akechi slid off of him and sat aside on the bed, letting Akira prop himself up on his arms and get some air. He blinked slowly, placidly, taking in deep breaths and wiping the mess off of his face with one arm.
Then he looked slightly to the left and almost fell over the side of the bed when he registered that Akechi had changed.
The wings were the biggest and most obvious difference. They were black, and covered with a thin membrane like a bat’s, wingspan reaching to about the length of his arms. Something thin lay curled around Akechi’s leg, and Akira realized it was a tail when the spade-shaped tip flicked lazily. Two horns were sticking out of Akechi’s hair, striped black and white in a dizzying pattern, and when he looked over at Akira, his irises were slitted like a cat’s.
“What...” It felt like his lips didn’t want to work anymore, whether it was from the oral sex or the strange, liquid feeling in his limbs. “What are...”
“What am I?” Akechi said, cocking his head with a sharp smile. “Don’t you know a demon when you see one, stupid boy?”
“Demon?” Akira repeated dumbly, and his brain fought a quick, intense battle over whether he was scared or horny. Both, maybe, but horny definitely had a massive advantage.
“Incubus, to be exact,” Akechi said, coming closer and reaching out to take Akira by the shoulders. “Succubus, if you insist, but who even cares these days, really.”
Akira didn’t resist as he laid him back down on the bed. How could he? And if he could, would he even want to?
“But you don’t care what I am, do you?” Akechi crooned at him, staring deeply into his eyes again. “Because you don’t think. You just obey. That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Akira agreed breathlessly, easily letting go of his questions. Akechi was right. He hadn’t even fucked him properly yet.
“Fuck, you tasted good,” Akechi hissed, licking his lips (was that a forked tongue? Akira let the thought go). “So good that I really can’t help myself – but that’s all right, because neither can you.” He straddled Akira’s hips, reaching back to stroke his cock with one clawed hand, and Akira was a little stunned to feel himself raising back to full hardness almost immediately. That definitely shouldn’t have been possible in his early twenties – Akechi was probably responsible for it somehow, and he quickly realized why when Akechi’s warm, wet cunt sank down onto his cock with a velvety slide that had his back arching off the mattress and a broken moan tumbling from his lips.
“Fuuuck,” Akechi moaned, tilting his head back. “I’ve been waiting for this all fucking night...”
“Please,” Akira mumbled hesitantly, barely even aware of what he was saying. He reached out, hands hovering just above Akechi’s hips, waiting in agony for permission. “Please?”
Akechi lowered his head and looked at him again, mouth curving into a wicked grin that showed off his sharp teeth.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked. “Be a good boy and fuck me.”
That was the only thing Akira needed to hear. He seized Akechi’s hips in a bruising grip and paused for just long enough to brace his feet on the mattress before he drove himself hard into Akechi’s cunt. Again, and again, and again... he couldn’t possibly stop himself. He couldn’t possibly want to stop himself. This was all that mattered and all that would ever matter.
“Fuck, yes!” Akechi shrieked, hips somehow moving with expert precision to ride him properly despite how hard he was thrusting. “Oh, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop, ohhh... good boy, good fucking boy, harder, more, there! Fuck me!”
And Akira did. He fucked Akechi relentlessly with everything he had, literally, as he felt his limbs growing heavier and heavier the closer he came to orgasm. In the back of his mind he had some faint inkling of what was happening to him... but even if he’d had a mind to do anything but obey with blind devotion, he had a feeling he’d have been hard-pressed to pull out of that wet, perfect cunt.
Eventually, Akechi wrung a second orgasm out of him, even more intense than the first, as he let out a wrecked cry and spurted deep inside – and then collapsed into unconsciousness, world fading to gray and then black in the space of a second.
────────
Akira wasn’t sure how much time passed before his eyes flickered open again. He was sprawled limply on the bed, limbs at odd angles in a way that was probably not going to feel fantastic tomorrow. More interesting, however, was the fact that Akechi was still there, sitting on the edge of the bed and humming tunelessly to himself as he fussed with his hair. His wings twitched a little, as if itching to spread and flap properly.
“...Fuck, we have to do that again,” Akira said, appreciatively, but Akechi jumped violently and whipped around, sputtering.
“What – you – I–” He shook his head, fixing Akira with an icy glare, and hissed, “How are you conscious!?”
Okay, that was unexpected. Akira blinked sleepily and looked down at himself. “... Should I not be?”
The demon laughed, high and slightly hysterical. “Are you fucking kidding me? You should be comatose at best, if not dead! Humans can’t handle being drained like that, let alone twice in one night – what kind of freak are you?”
He was a lot meaner now that the sex was over. Akira would have been disappointed by that, but honestly he was starting to think he might be even hotter like this.
“I have no idea,” he said, and then added a little hopefully, “So... you don’t want to go again?”
“Fucking–” Akechi dragged one clawed hand down his face in exasperation. “Did I drain your intelligence along with your life force? Do you want to die? You’d never survive, you idiot.”
“You didn’t care if I died five minutes ago.”
“Well, now I’m full,” Akechi snapped, “and despite your incredible stupidity, you’re far less despicable than the usual type I pick up. So if you’d like to keep your life, I suggest you get out of my way.”
He turned away again, and Akira’s brow furrowed. “Wait, you’re leaving? Can’t you stay?”
“Whatever for?” Akechi muttered, not looking at him as he straightened his hair back into place, and Akira suddenly felt a little foolish for the ideal outcome he’d been clinging to earlier that night.
“Well... does this have to be a one-time thing?”
Akechi paused, turning to glare at him. “I don’t play house, if that’s what you’re after.”
“Aw, why not? I’d treat you right.”
“You’re probably still high on pheromones,” Akechi said dismissively. “It’ll pass.”
Akira bit his tongue. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand the situation, but Akechi was starting to piss him off a little, which he figured was probably as good a sign as any that he wasn’t still lovestruck on demon pheromones or whatever.
Taking his chance on an unusually bold move, he leaned over and wrapped one arm around Akechi’s waist, under the wings, and pulled him in so that he was lying on top of Akira's chest, ignoring his indignant squawk.
“It’s just that, I think by the time we fucked, you weren’t really acting anymore,” Akira murmured, pitching his voice lower. “Maybe I’m wrong, but... I think you liked the sex. I think you liked it a lot. And I think, if you stuck around... you could get dicked down like that a lot more than just once. You said your usual type was despicable, didn’t you? Wouldn’t staying with me be easier than having to do that all the time? Don’t you think it’d be nice to have your own human around to play with instead?”
Akechi blinked down at him with an expression of almost dumbfounded anger frozen on his face... but after a few long moments, it shifted ever so slightly.
“You're actually serious,” he said.
“Deadly serious,” Akira replied in a fake-somber tone, and got an unamused glare in return.
“You’d be constantly drained and exhausted,” Akechi said warily.
“Can't be any worse than when I had five customer service jobs at once.”
“You'd have to keep me satisfied and fuck me whenever I wanted.”
“Is that a threat, or a promise?”
Akechi growled in frustration, shoving his arms away so he could pin Akira down by the shoulders, baring his sharp teeth. Behind him, his leathery wings flared out to their fullest extent.
“You'd be opening your home to a demon,” he hissed, eyes flashing in a way that would probably be threatening if Akira had a functioning sense of danger.
“... Honestly, I don't really mind,” he admitted, watching Akechi's eyes narrow. “I mean, the whole demon thing is pretty hot, and it's not like it's in your best interest to kill me, right? And, uh... the mind powers were hot, too. If that's relevant. I wouldn't mind doing that again in the future. Hopefully lots of times?”
Akechi just stared at him for a long moment, during which Akira tried not to break eye contact. Finally, he let go of Akira’s shoulders and sat back up, although he stayed perched on Akira's hips.
“You really are an idiot,” he said, with an air of nonchalance, combing his hair back from his face with his claws. “Very well, then. We'll see how long you last, human. I can’t say you didn’t show talent.”
────────
A short while later, they lay tangled together under the bedcovers. Akechi had shifted his form again, getting rid of the wings and horns, and while Akira sort of missed them, he had to admit it made snuggling a lot easier.
(“If I’m sleeping here,” Akechi had said, “you may as well be useful and keep me warm.”)
He wondered if Akechi would let him make breakfast for them both in the morning. Even if he was full, could he still eat human food? Would he like Sojiro’s curry recipe?
Lightly, hesitantly, he brought his hand up and stroked at Akechi’s hair – and was rewarded when the demon purred in his sleep, shifting a little closer.
Akira smiled, tucking himself closer to Akechi and letting himself drift off. He could get used to that.
His last thought before falling asleep was of how on earth he was going to get Akechi and Morgana to share the apartment.