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lockpick to your heart

Summary:

Akira's not really sure why Goro insists on changing the locks so often, but he doesn't mind the opportunity to get creative. His friends don't quite understand, but that's alright.

Notes:

  • Inspired by [Restricted Work] by (Log in to access.)

this is sort of secondhand inspired by Under Lock and Key by khattikeri (which is a great fic that i would definitely recommend!), because it's responsible for putting lockpickinglawyer on my radar. it's firsthand inspired by this video, which put the idea of domestic lockpicking in my head. it is so silly.

thanks to g/hellhouse for chatting about this very goofy concept with me. the world needs more shuake silliness

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Akira’s pretty sure his life is perfect, all things considered.

Sure, he’s still got the occasional nightmare that he wakes up from drenched in sweat with the heartbeat in his ears almost loud enough to drown out Morgana and Goro’s comforting words, and yes, Goro gets those nearly as often as he does. 

(Goro had once argued no, he definitely had more, and so they’d kept a three-month long tally counting who had them more frequently in some mock-study competition. In the end, Akira had exactly four more than Goro, so he dutifully crowned himself the winner, much to Goro’s annoyance and to Morgana’s dismay that it even counted as a victory. Akira’s convinced they’re both just sore losers. Ha, ha. They wish they could have as many issues as him! Sucks to suck, Goro! Next time you want to keep the title of “most mentally ill,” you shouldn’t go to rehab and better yourself!) 

But any number of sleepless nights is worth the joy of a life spent surrounded by all his favorite people, and really, he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s constantly getting texts from his friends, and in perhaps the loveliest turn of events, they’re all supportive of his relationship with Goro. It took some time, admittedly, and a lot of convincing that he was making a good decision, but in the end, they had all come to accept it. Akira’s endlessly grateful.

They’re supportive, but that doesn’t mean they necessarily understand it.

“Dude, the eff are you doing?” Ryuji asks incredulously as his view from Akira’s phone is jostled wildly. They’ve been on a FaceTalk call for the entirety of Akira’s walk home from work, but he’s finally managed to make it up the frankly torturous number of stairs to his apartment. Akira’s determined not to put his phone down even as he digs through his bag, but somehow all his stuff seems to have shifted to make searching for things impossible. 

“I’m home. Just have to unlock the door,” Akira explains. Surely it must be somewhere around here, right? He doesn’t leave home prepared.

“Akira, bro, I can see your keys sitting right on top of your stuff. Don’t tell me you’re starting to actually need glasses?”

Akira pulls his hands from his bag just long enough to show Ryuji a mostly steady middle finger. Ryuji snickers. 

“Not looking for my key.” 

Is it in the front pocket? He doesn’t usually keep much in there aside from some chapstick and other small essentials, but he got ready at ass o’clock this morning, so it’s possible he mixed things up in the name of easy access—

Bingo. Akira pulls his findings out of his bag and sticks his phone in its place, camera-out so Ryuji isn’t staring into pitch darkness. He needs his hands for this.

Akira starts on the lock after just a quick glance at it to assess the best method of opening it. It’s a fairly simple model; should be no trouble at all. He works it quickly—nothing on one, two is binding, little click on three, little click on four, five is binding—

“The hell, Akira? Are you picking the lock to your front door?”

Ryuji’s voice startles him badly enough that he almost drops his lockpick. Keyword being almost—Akira is skilled enough in working alongside the thieves that the occasional outburst won’t mess him up too badly. After a slow breath to regain his thoughts, Akira nods, though he has no idea if it’s visible to Ryuji or not. 

“Yeah, Goro changed the locks again. I’ve almost got it.”

“He—what? He changed the locks? And what do you mean, again?”

Akira pauses his work. Ryuji sounds a little confused and more than a little pissed. He retraces the steps of their conversation, and—

Yeah, okay. He can see why that might be confusing.

“He just does this sometimes. Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal.”

Akira really hopes Ryuji takes his word for it. He’s almost got this lock done and would rather not spend more time on it than he has to. Goro’s already sure to criticize how long this simple lock is taking him.

Apparently, he had his hopes up too high. Ryuji makes a strangled noise from his phone and keeps asking him questions, and, listen. Akira loves Ryuji, he really does. Ryuji’s the bread to his butter. He’ll be hard-pressed to decry his best friend, but right now, he just has to focus.

“Not a big— How much is sometimes?” Ryuji demands. Akira shrugs. This time, one’s binding, there’s nothing on two, nothing on three, four is binding, click out of four, he’s almost got it—

“I dunno. At least once a week? It’s not on schedule or anything,” he explains. The lock clicks open and Akira barely resists the urge to pump his fist. Instead, he pushes the door open and calls out. “Honey, I’m home! And I’ve got Ryuji on FaceTalk, so be PG!”

“I suppose that explains why it took you so long,” Goro’s voice calls from around the corner. At the sound of it, most of the tension remaining in Akira’s shoulders after a long day at work melts away. Goro steps into the hallway as Akira’s putting his shoes on their rack, and waits with faux patience for Akira to stand back up before he pulls him into a kiss.

It’s a little more intense than usual for his first kiss back home at the end of the day, but Akira would sooner be caught dead than complain. Still, as a shiver threatens to work its way down his spine at the feeling of Goro’s nails against his scalp, Akira pulls away.

“Hey, what’d I say about being PG?” he chides, but Akira knows his smile is just as clear in his voice as it is on his face. Goro rolls his eyes but allows him space.

“I don’t believe Sakamoto has been PG a day in his life. Hello, by the way.” Goro directs the latter sentence toward Akira’s phone.

“Hey, Akechi,” Ryuji grouses, which—okay, Akira’s going to have to figure out what’s up there, because suddenly Ryuji sounds really, really unhappy. He doesn’t think he’s heard Ryuji this unhappy to talk to Goro since high school.  

“PG12, then,” Akira amends. He leans forward to press another chaste kiss to Goro’s mouth just because he can, and then steps away properly. “Hey, I’m gonna go into the bedroom to finish our conversation, and then I’ll get started on dinner. That sound good?”

“Fine by me,” Goro agrees. Akira barely resists the urge to kiss him again, and probably wouldn’t have resisted at all if not for the oddly silent audience on his phone. 

Ryuji’s quiet the rest of the short trip to the bedroom, too, which is enough to set off some major red flags in Akira’s head. Once he’s got the door shut, he flops onto the bed and pulls his phone back out to look at Ryuji’s face. He looks just as grouchy as he’d sounded.

“Hey, what’s up with you? Everything okay?” Akira asks. It only serves to sour Ryuji’s expression further. Shit.

“Yeah, dude, I’m fine. Are you?” Ryuji grumbles. Akira retroactively changes his diagnosis of Ryuji’s expression—he’s mad and concerned. Much, much worse.

Still, Akira can’t help but chuckle a bit in confusion. Had their brief makeout session in the entryway said this is a cry for help?

“Of course I am. Why, what’s this about?” And then, before Ryuji can deflect, he adds, “You seem mad at Goro. Did something happen?”

“I should be asking you that! The eff is he doing, changing the locks on you? Like, if you’d had a really bad fight I’d maybe get it, but every day? The hell is his problem?”

Ryuji sounds really, really mad. And, okay. Akira likes to play dumb, but he didn’t graduate top of his class by sheer luck. He gets why Ryuji’s upset. It’s kind of sweet that he’s so pissed on Akira’s behalf, but it means Akira’s got to explain why he’s got it wrong, actually.

“It’s not every day,” Akira starts weakly. That doesn’t seem to do much good, so he tries again. “That’s just a thing he does sometimes. I don’t mind it, really. It doesn’t bother me. It’s all in good fun.”

Ryuji stares at him for a long, uncomfortable moment. Akira fights the urge to fidget under his gaze. 

“...Whatever you say, man,” Ryuji eventually concedes. He still doesn’t sound happy, but if he’s not arguing, that might be the best Akira can ask for. He offers him a smile and waits until Ryuji matches it, though it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

“It’s fine, Ryuji. I promise I’d let you know if something was wrong.” Ryuji scoffs, and Akira snorts. “Okay, fine. But it really is all good. I swear.”

“If you say so,” Ryuji says. It’s still not an agreement, but it’s probably fine. 

Akira sets his phone on the bed so he can stretch his arms high above his head and sighs contentedly as he feels his tired muscles extend.

“I’m going to go make dinner now. I’ll see you at the gym Saturday?” he asks as he picks his phone back up. Finally, Ryuji smiles genuinely back at him.

“For sure! And don’t be late this time, or I’m starting without you!”

Once they’ve said their goodbyes, Akira heads into the kitchen, where Goro is already seated at the table and Morgana is in a warm patch of sun on the floor. Goro stands as soon as Akira pulls all the ingredients out and folds himself against Akira’s back as he shucks food into a pot. Akira leans back just enough to show he appreciates it while still able to watch the broth come to temperature.

“What was that about?” Goro mumbles into Akira’s neck. Akira shrugs lightly enough that it won’t bother him and gives the pot a quick stir.

“He thought it was weird you changed the lock. I told him not to worry about it,” Akira explains. He can practically feel the tension work its way into Goro’s shoulders as he processes the words.

“...Would you like me to stop?” he asks hesitantly. He begins to pull away, but Akira snakes his free hand behind himself to hold loosely onto Goro’s shirt. Goro relaxes and stays put, and Akira can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face. God, how did he get this lucky?

“Nah, not at all. It’s fun.”

Not that Akira necessarily understands why Goro does it. He’d done it once at a particularly low point—winter months are rough on both of them, and they’d had something that wasn’t quite not a fight the night before, and their relationship was still somewhat young, young enough that when Akira stubbornly broke back in after work it had turned into a real fight before they’d made up—but every time since then has been seemingly random. Akira doesn’t mind it at all; why would he miss an opportunity to keep his thief skills from rusting? 

Plus, it really is fun. Akira can’t deny the jolt of excitement that runs through him every time he comes home and finds a new lock to pick. So even if he doesn’t understand what goes through Goro’s head when he changes the locks on good days like this one, he won’t complain. It makes the mundanity of his twenties into something interesting.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Goro says, and he really does seem glad. Akira decides he doesn’t need to know why. As long as it works for the two of them, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.

 

 

It's something like 2:30 on a Saturday night when Goro throws Akira a curveball. He's coming off of a surprise double shift at the Crossroads and wants nothing more than to wipe off his makeup and stumble into bed, but when he reaches the door to his apartment, he's met with a sight he hasn't had the pleasure of picking apart yet: a digital lock. Whatever remnant of Akira's energy ignites, and excitement floods his veins as he steps up to the door to examine it. 

With a new puzzle to solve and with the quiet echoes of his heels clicking against the late-night tiles, Akira almost feels like Joker again. His heart thumps hard in his chest and he barely manages to bite back the grin that threatens to overtake his face.

The new apparatus is fairly simple, to Akira's detriment. It's just a keypad and a handle—which is to say, there's no keyhole. He examines it further but finds no visible weakness, aside from the two screws holding the front panel on.

As Akira sees it, he has two options: one, he can ask Goro to open the door, therefore admitting defeat and also likely waking him up, or two, he can figure it out himself. Option one is immediately off the table for obvious reasons, which leaves him with only one solution: find a way to break in. It's his preferred option, anyway.

…No one ever said he couldn't phone a friend, though, right?

Akira pulls his phone from his bag and silently thanks his past self for deciding to bring his backpack and not just the purse that matches his dress. At least now he has his tools, though who knows how much help they'll actually be with an electronic lock. Crossing his fingers, Akira shoots Futaba a text.

 

From: You

Hey, you wouldn't happen to be able to hack an electronic lock remotely, would you?

 

From: Futaba!!

huh

From: Futaba!!

i mean it depends on the model? can u describe it

From: Futaba!!

also: what are you doing?? also also: do u need me to delete some security camera footage 

 

From: You

Nah, all good. I'm not in any trouble. You can check the camera in my hall if you want, though. I'll send a picture of the model.

From: You

[image attached]  

 

From: Futaba!!

lol nice post-wig hair

From: Futaba!!

ok i checked the model and i don't think i can do anything about it remotely? (~_~メ)

From: Futaba!!

but i can tell you the factory keycode is 1234 lol total noob code

 

Akira highly doubts it would be that simple, but he plugs the code in anyway. It flashes red and doesn't budge.

 

From: You

No dice.

 

From: Futaba!!

figures

From: Futaba!!

there's a sensor inside that sets off an alarm when it detects the front panel it removed, so that's not really an option either

From: Futaba!!

want me to come over there and see if i can crack it?

 

From: You

Nah, I got it. It's way too late for that. Thanks, though.

 

From: Futaba!!

ehh this is like my midnight it's the rest of the world that's wrong

From: Futaba!!

lmk when u get in or i really will come over

From: Futaba!!

i mean it. idk what's up but seriously akira if ur in trouble i'll fuck somebody up 

 

From: You

Deal.

 

A sensor that detects the front panel being removed was sort of what Akira was expecting, but it still stings. It would be much easier if he could see the components. 

…It might not detect if it's just loosened, though, right? And then if he can mess with the inner workings of it, he can probably figure out a way to get it open. A lock's a lock, he figures. There's bound to be a way to trigger the deadbolt and force it open.

It's a risky bet, not knowing how much he can lift the panel off before it sets off the alarm, but it seems like his best option. Mind made up, Akira pulls out his pocket knife and gets to work.

With that plan in mind, it's easy to get the lock open. The light flashes green after barely more than a minute, and Akira allows himself a satisfied smirk as he pulls the door open. He sends a celebratory text Futaba's way and treads carefully into the bathroom.

It's just a matter of minutes before Akira's changed, clean-faced, and crawling into bed. He's been as quiet as he can, but apparently the effort was futile, because Goro rolls over to face him as soon as he's under the covers, blinking his eyes open sleepily. Akira smiles at him and cards a hand through Goro's hair.

"Did I wake you?" Akira whispers. Goro gives his best approximation of a shrug, which means yes, but I'm not mad about it. Akira would know if Goro was mad—it's reminiscent of what he imagines poking a bear in hibernation might be like.

"How was work?" Goro mumbles. He shuffles closer to Akira, who welcomes him with open arms. Like this, comfortably sleepy, Goro's always at his most affectionate. Akira's never one to take it for granted.

"Fine. Long. I'm glad to be home." 

Akira bites back a yawn while Goro hums his assent. He's already got his eyes closed again; it's only a matter of time before he's asleep again.

"How long did it take you to figure out the code?" Goro asks. Akira blinks at him.

"I didn't. I just loosened the panel and activated it from there. What, you thought I'd just try random combinations until I got it? There's at least a few hundred combinations there. Not worth it."

Goro blinks his eyes back open, brows furrowed. He looks, frankly, befuddled.

"It wasn't random. I had thought you'd try some significant numbers before you resorted to taking it apart."

"I tried the factory code, but that's too easy. What else was I supposed to do?" Akira asks, genuinely curious. Somehow, this only seems to baffle Goro further.

"...The code is our anniversary, Akira."

Oh. That's— Hm.

"Goro, that's so romantic," Akira teases, just to hide the way his heart swells. Goro glares at him, though the strength of it is weakened when he yawns. 

"Shut up. I should've known you'd go with the most convoluted method. I'm almost disappointed in myself for not predicting as much."

He sounds like he's trying to stifle any embarrassment behind making fun of Akira—one of Goro's most frequently used tactics. Unfortunately for him, Akira is immune to it and takes a mile when given an inch.

"You definitely should have expected that. What, you think I'd make things easy for myself?" Akira teases. He's rewarded with an amused snort. "I can't believe you made the code our anniversary, you sap. It's like you like me or something."

"Whatever. I'm only as bad as you are," Goro grouses. He rolls over so his back is facing Akira, clearly even more embarrassed now. Even though it was Akira's intention, he feels a little bad—it's hard for Goro to express his affection, even now. He can stand to lay off the teasing.

Akira takes Goro's new position as an opportunity to sidle up to his back and pull him into what could loosely be described as spooning. Goro doesn't pull away, so he counts it as a win.

"I love you too, you know," Akira assures quietly. Goro sighs.

"I know." He's quiet long enough for Akira to think he's fallen asleep. He has to force himself not to jump when Goro speaks again. "Sorry I made you break in tonight. I didn't realize you'd be home so late."

"Oh, that's fine. I didn't know either, and besides, I wasn't bothered." Akira thinks for a moment, then amends, "Although, maybe stick with tactical locks from now on? They're more fun anyway."

Goro barks out a laugh, shockingly loud in the quiet of their room. Akira chuckles and holds Goro tighter.

"Alright. You've got a deal." 

There's still laughter in his voice as Goro agrees. Akira buries his smile into the back of his head and drifts off to sleep before he can think of a witty response.

 

 

Akira takes it all back. He's a goddamn idiot and it's a miracle he's survived this long.

It's the only logical explanation for how he's ended up in this precarious situation: dangling from the side of a stranger's second-floor balcony and fishing for his phone in his bag. His freshly washed bag, after a tragic curry spill on his way home from a family dinner at the Sakura house. His bag which Akira refilled with every useless thing he uses in his daily life, like the knockoff Phantom Thieves-themed stress ball he carries around and the eyeshadow palette Ann gifted him for his last birthday. 

His bag which, of course, he forgot to put his lockpicking supplies in.

He could've easily called Goro, admitted defeat, and entered their apartment like any normal person might. Akira can handle a little teasing, surely! But he's never been one to give up when Goro challenges him, and he's certainly not about to start now.

So he improvised a plan b, and now he's here: scaling up their apartment building and regretting, a little bit, living a life that led him to thinking this would be a good idea.

Not that he's struggling, of course. Akira's going to climb up to their apartment like an off-brand Romeo, and he's going to do it with a smile. 

His phone ringing throws him off, though, and Akira almost— almost —misses his foothold. He scrambles for purchase and anchors himself well enough to dig through his bag. Luckily, he's quick to find his phone, and he silently thanks Sojiro for his gift of wireless headphones as congratulations for his recent promotion. Without so much as checking the caller ID, Akira answers and greets his caller.

"...Hi, Akira. Is now a bad time? You sound sort of out of breath," Makoto's voice rings out, and Akira grins. It’s always nice to talk to his friends.

"Nah, not at all. I can talk."

He and Goro live on the sixth floor, which could, objectively, be worse, but also certainly isn't ideal. It’s also early evening, so people who work office jobs should have just gotten home or be coming close to it. All in all, not the optimal time to climb the outside of his apartment building all the way to the top floor, but that certainly won’t stop him. 

Now that his phone has been answered, Akira tucks it back into his bag and stabilizes his position to continue his climb. It shouldn’t be too difficult—the balconies and windows are all relatively close together, and there are decorative protrusions of brick between each of them that are too small to step on for very long but perfect size to grab or to boost himself off of. And, honestly, he’s already on the second floor. Piece of cake.

“Well, alright. If you’re sure,” Makoto says, still obviously hesitant. He makes an affirmative sound, and she continues. “We’re trying to plan a get-together in the next few weeks to celebrate Sumire’s nomination for that world championship. Is there any time you might be available?”

Akira flips through his mental calendar as he hauls himself up to the third floor and sturdies himself on top of a window frame. 

“That sounds great,” he answers. “I don’t have a… calendar… in front of me… right now, but I think… most evenings I have free. I might be scheduled… for Crossroads, but I’m sure… Lala would let me… take a day—”

“Akira, are you sure you’re okay?” Makoto interrupts. “You’re really breathing hard. I can hear it over the phone.”

Okay, maybe he is out of breath. That’s kind of embarrassing, but it makes sense; he’s kept up with working out, but he hasn’t done any sort of parkour since he was flinging himself through the Metaverse. Akira makes a mental note to take Goro up on his next offer to take him bouldering. If he can’t comfortably scale a building, he’s doing something wrong.

Akira takes a long second to breathe before answering.

“Yeah, no, I’m good. You caught me in the middle of climbing my apartment building,” he answers. Makoto makes a strangled sound in response.

“You’re…? I’m sorry, why?”

“Fun, mostly. Convenience, a little bit.” Just a little jump up to the fourth floor, and then he can pull himself up to the top of the next window. He takes a careful, measured breath—in four, hold four, out four. Usually he saves that for when he’s having some sort of breakdown, or helping Goro through one, but it comes in handy here, too. He already feels like he has a better handle on this.

He allows himself a bit of smugness. Still got it.

“I’m afraid I don’t really understand,” Makoto admits hesitantly, as if Akira might be offended. “But I guess it’s you, so I really shouldn’t be surprised.”

Akira laughs at that. Sometimes, the blind faith his friends have in him is hilarious.

“It’s not something I’ve really done before, but I forgot my lockpick at home. Gotta make do, you know?”

“Is there something wrong with your key? If it’s broken or lost, you can replace it. I’m sure the management at your apartment complex would be willing to help.”

Akira pauses for a moment. He sort of forgot that management should have a key. Should, of course, being the key word—the lock that key pertains to is long gone. He wonders idly if Goro keeps all the old locks, or if he should just accept they’re definitely not getting their deposit back in full.

Ah, well. That’s a problem for the distant future.

Akira pushes himself up to the fifth floor easily. He’s really getting the hang of this. Maybe he should do it more often.

“New lock,” he explains before he can quite catch his breath. Once he has a better control of it, he elaborates. “I don’t have a key for this one. Never seen it before today.”

It’s a shame, too. It looked like a really interesting deadbolt setup. Maybe he’ll “forget” to take the new key Goro will give him to work with him tomorrow, just for a chance to pick it anyway.

“A new… Did Akechi change the lock on you?” Makoto’s voice has taken on an intensity that Akira usually appreciates, but finds pretty unnecessary right now. He offers a shrug he knows she can’t see.

“Yeah, but it’s all good. It’s normal. Don’t sweat it, I’ve got it figured out.”

And he really does. With one more jump, he’s on his own balcony, and then it’s just a matter of opening the door. He assesses it for a moment before deciding his best option is probably to wedge something into the gap underneath it, lift it, and pull. It’s just a matter of finding something for the shim.

“Are you two fighting? If so, you can stay with me and Haru. It’s more than alright. I’d hate for you to put yourself at risk at all.”

“No risk, I promise. It’s really alright,” Akira assures.

There’s a little spade he keeps outside for his plants. Maybe that could work? Or… No, better idea. His pocket knife has a couple screwdriver ends. The flathead should work perfectly.

“Akira, I don’t think—” Makoto begins, but Akira cuts her off. He doesn’t like to interrupt, but he doesn’t want her worrying.

“Makoto, if I had a problem, I’d let you know. Seriously. I don’t want you to stress yourself out about me. I’ve never been better.” And then, because he’d almost forgotten the topic at hand: “I’ll text you my availability later, okay? And then we can figure out when to meet up. I think throwing a party for Sumire sounds like a great idea. I’ll tell Goro about it, too. I’m sure he’d love to celebrate her.”

“...If you’re sure,” Makoto relents. Akira lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Thanks, Makoto. I appreciate you trusting me. I’m at my door now, so I’ll have to let you go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright. Take care of yourself, okay? I’m serious.”

“I will. Promise.”

With his goodbyes said, Akira turns his focus back to the door. He wedges his pocket knife under the door, takes a deep, hopeful breath, and lifts the door enough to pull it. With a push, the door slides open. Akira can’t help but let out a quiet whoop! in celebration.

He pulls the door open the rest of the way and steps inside just in time to see Goro wide-eyed on the couch and Morgana skidding around the corner. Akira grins and slides the door shut, locking it back in place behind him. 

“...What the fuck?” Goro asks quietly. Akira gets the feeling he wasn’t supposed to hear it.

“Hey, honey, I’m home,” he says cheekily, just to watch Goro’s face contort in a beautiful mix of shock, awe, and annoyance. “You know what’s silly? I forgot to pack my lockpick after I cleaned my bag. Amateur mistake, I know, so instead I just climbed up.”

“You—? Akira, what?”  

Goro sounds thoroughly befuddled. Akira’s not sure the last time he saw him so perplexed by Akira, as if his very existence is a puzzle he can’t figure out. Embarrassingly, it makes his heart skip a beat. He lets his grin turn lopsided, more subtle, and Goro snorts quietly. Suddenly, laughter seems unavoidable. Goro’s laughter is soft, muffled behind his teeth, but it releases gradually until he’s all but cackling, shoulders shaking hard even as he covers his face with his hands. Akira can’t help it—he follows Goro’s lead, chuckling more reservedly at the ridiculousness of his own actions. 

“I can’t believe you. You could have just asked me to open the door for you,” Goro says, sitting back up and wiping tears from his eyes. Akira shrugs, still grinning at him. 

“Yeah, but then I would have lost, right? I’m not giving up that easily against you.”

And that—Akira doesn’t mean much by it. It’s the truth, plain and simple, but it gives Goro pause. His face smooths in quiet surprise, and he stares at Akira with something huge and heavy behind his eyes. 

It’s almost intimidating, the enormity of their emotions toward each other. Akira’s sure he must watch Goro with a similar expression painted across his face.

“No, I guess you wouldn’t, would you? You’ve never backed down when I’ve challenged you,” Goro muses, fond and awestruck. He blinks hard like he’s remembering himself and shakes his head, though his smile still lingers. “Well, I have to applaud your creativity. You certainly took me by surprise.”

“Me, too! That door made such a loud sound, I thought we were being broken into!” Morgana pipes up. Akira smiles at him.

“Technically, you were right.” Then Akira stretches, sets down his bag, and turns toward the kitchen. “What do we want for dinner? I’m starving.”

 

 

Sumire’s party is going great, if Akira ignores the weird tension in the air. 

Everyone seems to be having fun, for the most part, but there's an awkwardness he can't deny. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least, so Akira does what he knows best: takes charge. 

Or, no. That’s not exactly accurate. But he does make an effort to pull as many people into the conversation as possible as soon as he notices an odd lull, and every time it feels almost normal for at least a few minutes. Perhaps that feeling is being helped by the fancy wine Ann had brought home from her recent modeling gig in France. Between the nine of them, Morgana excluded, they've all but destroyed the entire stash of it.

Akira wouldn't say he's drunk, per se, but he certainly feels warm and loose in a way he doesn't typically. Coupled with the rare occasion of actually seeing all his friends in one place, he feels a comfortable happiness that's only slightly muted by the weird tension.

Unfortunately, he's apparently alone in that thought, because either this whole party was a front for an intervention or the tension has just gotten to be too much to endure. Akira suspects the second option, if not because he doesn't think the others would be so rude to Sumire as to throw a party in her name just to start a fight, then because she and Ann are currently occupied with Yusuke as he paints on their skin like tattoos, and because Morgana is asleep in the corner. He never misses an opportunity to stick his nose in Akira's business, especially when it would give him an excuse to escape Futaba petting him. She’s attentive, though. 

Akira must miss what starts the argument, but he tunes in just in time to catch Ryuji turn bitterly to face Goro.

"Hey, Akechi. What gives, man?" he demands. From Goro's position next to Akira, he feels him tense.

"I'm not sure what you're referring to," Goro says, forcefully neutral. Ryuji rolls his eyes, leg bouncing in clear annoyance. Akira frowns.

“I mean how you clearly ain’t treating Akira right! It’s effed up!”

Ryuji’s face is flushed, but whether it’s from anger or the alcohol, Akira doesn’t know. Given the intensity of his look and the empty glass next to him, it’s probably both.

“What?” Goro asks, back ramrod straight and tense enough to shatter. Akira sets his hand lightly on Goro’s knee in hopes that it might soothe him, but this time, it doesn’t seem to do much.

“Ryuji, what are you talking about?” Akira asks carefully. It’s not Ryuji that speaks up, though, which sets off another alarm bell in his head. 

“I believe he’s referring to him changing the locks to your apartment, Akira.” Makoto’s voice is thin and sharp, targetted. “Enough of us have heard about it now, and we’re… concerned, to say the least.”

She doesn’t sound concerned. She sounds like she’s seconds away from giving Goro an aikido demonstration. 

“Guys, it’s really not—”

“I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you,” Goro interrupts. Akira feels vaguely like he’s watching a building go up in flames, all the while knowing he’s the one who forgot to blow out the candle.

Maybe he shouldn’t have told them as he was breaking in all those times, but in his defense, Akira really doesn’t think it’s a big deal! He doesn’t mind picking a lock according to Goro’s whims! If anything, he enjoys it!

“No offense, Akechi, but that’s bullshit,” Haru pipes up. Akira almost startles, but of course Makoto would have told her. He’d be a fool to expect otherwise.

“It’s not a big deal, I promise,” Akira insists. Everyone glances at him, but whether it’s out of some remaining instinct to turn to him as a leader or because he’s the subject of their concern, he doesn’t know. “I’m not sure of his reasoning for it, but it doesn’t bother me. Seriously. Usually it doesn’t even slow me down any.”

“You don’t know why?” Goro asks incredulously. He’s staring at Akira quizzically and definitely a little alarmed. Akira squirms under the intensity of his gaze on top of everyone else’s. 

“I mean, I can guess, but I didn’t think you’d want me to talk about it in front of everyone,” Akira says weakly. Goro’s eyebrows furrow further. “I mean… You still struggle with intimacy sometimes, so I just assumed you want space for yourself sometimes. Or, like, a sense of security.”

Goro’s face goes through an interesting series of emotions that ends with him staring at Akira like he’s grown a second head and his cheeks a lovely shade of pink.

“That’s— No, that’s definitely not why. You thought I was doing it to keep you out?” Akira shrugs halfheartedly, and Goro shakes his head, like I-can’t-believe-you. “Akira, I’ve been doing it for you! You didn’t know?”

“What— For me?” 

Now Akira’s lost, because— What? How does changing the locks benefit him? Again, not that he minds, but he’s not sure he follows Goro’s logic here.

“After that first time, you seemed so energized. As if part of Joker had leaked back into you.” Goro’s face turns serious, but he’s got that familiar look in his eye. It’s the same look he gives Akira when he comes home from work and pulls him immediately into a kiss. It’s the same look Akira’s met with when Goro wakes up first and Akira wakes up with a hand carding gently through his hair. It’s the same look that tells Akira, without ever saying it, I love you. I still don’t believe I’m allowed to have you.  

“I know you miss the Metaverse. So I thought if perhaps I could allow you to feel like Joker again, even if just for a moment, it might make the mundanity of our life more… enriching for you.”

Akira’s rendered completely speechless. He blinks hard at Goro. Goro gives him a look like I can’t believe you didn’t pick up on that, idiot. Or maybe Akira is projecting.

Because, honestly, he does miss the Metaverse. Every gap where a persona used to sit still feels achingly empty, and he misses when he felt he could make a genuine impact on society. It’s been years since he felt like he was capable of changing anything for the better. He just thought he was better at hiding it.

“Wait, so you’re not doing it to keep Akira out? It’s, like… For fun?” Ryuji asks. Sparing him a quick glance, Akira’s relieved to see that his expression no longer seems angry. He’s definitely confused, but Akira can’t fault him for that.

“Don’t you think if I was genuinely trying to keep him out I would have tried something different?” Goro says. It borders on a sneer, which puts Ryuji back on guard. “Or do you seriously think I thought to myself the twenty-ninth wasn’t enough to keep him out, but the thirtieth definitely will?”

“Thirty?” Makoto whispers to Haru, barely loud enough for Akira to hear. He bites back a laugh.

“Guys, I appreciate the concern, really. But Goro and I are good. Really, really good,” Akira assures. He reaches for Goro’s hand to give it a squeeze, which he allows but rolls his eyes at. Akira just grins.

“If you’re sure,” Makoto concedes. “I… apologize for the assumption. You’re capable of taking care of yourself, I know.”

“Water under the bridge. It’s nice to see you care.”

The conversation picks back up gradually, and it’s no less awkward than before, but at least it doesn’t feel actively hostile. Minor victories, right? Everyone haltingly apologizes to each other for the confusion, and really, that's all Akira can ask for.

He feels Futaba’s eyes on him a few minutes after chatter has picked up and glances over at her. She scans his face intently, and Akira nods. He offers her a smile, and she mirrors it only a little tentatively. If he wasn’t busy holding Goro’s hand, he’d get up and ruffle her hair. Instead, he settles for sticking his tongue out at her, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, and chuckles when she gives him a scandalized look and mirrors it. 

Akira makes a mental note to have dinner with her and Sojiro again soon. It’s still surprising to him that even living in the same city, he can miss his family, now that he’s a few years from his attic bedroom.

They begin saying their goodbyes not long afterward, and soon enough, Akira, Goro, and Morgana are approaching their front door. Goro pauses in front of it and gestures toward Akira.

“What, did you forget your key?” Akira asks, though he knows he didn’t. Goro was the one who locked the door when they left, after all. He doesn’t wait for a response before he starts fiddling with it. It’s the same lock he’d picked three days ago, one with a ninety degree turn that had stumped him for a few minutes. Now that he’s figured it out, though, he gets it open in a matter of seconds.

“You two are so weird, you know that?” Morgana comments, and Akira chuckles. He’s far from the first person to say as much.

“I think we’re well aware,” Goro says, echoing Akira’s thoughts. Instead of responding, Akira pushes the door open.

Morgana walks purposefully over to his bed and makes himself comfortable. While Goro locks the door, Akira busies himself with taking off his shoes. He finishes as Goro turns around, and catches him in an embrace before Goro can bend to remove his own shoes.

“Hey, Goro. Thank you for everything,” Akira murmurs. Goro relaxes in his arms and pats his back somewhat awkwardly.

“It’s no skin off my back. It’s somewhat entertaining to see how you react to each one.” Akira huffs in quiet amusement, and Goro’s stilted pat turns into small, soothing circles rubbed just below Akira’s shoulder blades. “Though, you know, most people wouldn’t consider their significant other changing the locks to be romantic.”

“Good thing I’m not most people,” Akira says. He pulls back just far enough to kiss Goro, short and sweet. He’s got that look in his eyes again when Akira pulls back, and he can’t stop himself from kissing him again.

Soon enough, they’re climbing into bed, content and comfortably exhausted. Akira pulls Goro snugly into his arms, and as he drifts off to sleep, he wonders how he was lucky enough to find someone who understands him down to his very molecules, though he knows luck had nothing to do with it. Every one of the walls Akira built up, Goro ripped apart brick by brick, and every time Goro tried to lock him out, Akira just broke back in. And, honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Notes:

thanks for reading! comments and kudos are much appreciated if you enjoyed <3 if you'd like, my twitter is @deaIswarlock and my tumblr is @jortsbian/cselkces