Archive of Our Own

“And thus, I promise you here and now, I will end the vampire plague that has befallen Tokyo. No righteous citizen of this city should live in fear. Nights need to be safe again. The vampire’s plots against humanity are going to be eradicated!”

Goro’s stomach churned, as it did so often when he heard his father speak. The same old game humanity had played for so many years, in broad daylight, with nothing changed but the players. And nothing learned.

Presenting all the people’s biggest fears about vampires to them on silver platters. Day by day, his father worked dutifully on destroying all the progress they had made on vampire and human relations with fear-mongering and rhetoric that steadily got more and more crass.

Infuriating.

Infuriating, because no one but Goro would believe that the very man aggressively talking about clearing the world from vampiric influences, was regularly fucking them.

Goro knew though. Goro was the living, walking proof of it.

Proof he - to Shido’s brazen luck - wasn’t ready to offer to humanity for as long as they were determined to witch hunt them.

Though, in all fairness, it had to be said that witches were actually experiencing a far friendlier treatment than vampires were at this time. They helped bewitch the stakes, after all. They helped identify vampires with their magic. They had successfully worked themselves into the favor of society by aiding their oppressors. The same old game, forever repeated.

Goro’s sigh must’ve been audible, because he immediately felt those familiar, sharp, gray eyes on him, as always burning him with their intensity.

He mindlessly stirred his coffee, spoon loosely hanging from two fingers, staring into the dark liquid and craving something entirely else instead.

“Something the matter, detective?” Akira Kurusu’s smooth, deep voice wrapped around him like dark velvet.

No one was quite immune to a vampire’s charm, not even Goro Akechi.

Not even the product of Shido’s hypocrisy, the half-eradicated error on someone’s painting, the man bearing his mother’s curse while living in his father’s disdain.

Goro braced himself, then looked up to Akira and tutted.

“It’s tiring, isn’t it? Just because there’s one group of rogue vampires straying through the streets, giving a bad name to the entire species…”

That wasn’t how it worked, of course. Even before the Phantom Thieves had come to Tokyo, there had been vampire attacks leading the people into fear and despair, directly feeding into Shido’s campaign while they, strategically, got rid of all his opposition.

Oh yes. Goro knew . He could still taste it on his lips, in fact, on his tongue, staining him like his mother had been stained the day she’d driven the stake through her own heart. The blood of all the people whose throats he’d ripped out on Shido’s orders. Their despair. The delicious, hot, smooth lifeblood, filling him with power and scratching that obnoxious itch always in the back of his head, always there, never satisfied, never enough, never enough, never -

Akira merely shrugged.

“One group of vampires shouldn’t stand for all of them. If that’s how people view it, then they’re the problem to begin with. Plus, the Phantoms aren’t even that bad - They don’t kill their targets. It’s fear-mongering, nothing else.

It was and it was effective.

Because of course it was. He’d taken care of it.

Goro raised his cup and took a sip from his coffee. And another. And another. Pretended that the caffeine was giving him some kind of boost, some energy, like it did for full humans, pretended not to know what he actually needed. Again and again and again.

The circle repeated because so did the curse. The ever-alluring call of blood turning them into the predators they never chose to be.

“I just don’t think it’s right,” he hissed, the sudden bitterness of his words reflected by the bitterness of the coffee on his tongue. Not sweet and wonderful like blood. Never enough . “To run around, attacking people they deemed criminal and giving everyone else a bad name.”

Akira huffed.

“And you think this is right?” he asked, pointing at the TV. “At least they’re doing something. The people they attacked - just look at Kaneshiro. Directly funding organizations that are hunting vampires down. What about them? No one’s calling for the eradication of all these violent humans killing u-”

He cleared his throat, interrupting himself and looking incredibly sheepish.

Subtlety had never been Akira’s strength, of course. Any other detective would’ve long exposed him for what he was. Arrested him and delivered him to the authorities for slaughter.

Goro - well. He was no more a real detective than he was a real human.

So he liked to pretend he didn’t hear.

At least for a little while longer.

“I’m not on their side,” Goro assured him instead. “I don’t think it’s right either, hunting vampires for sport. I just think…” He bit his lower lip. If he was being truthful, what he thought could be summed up with the satisfying images of him tearing Shido’s heart from his chest and eating it for breakfast. “I just think they should stop,” he finally sighed. “It’s not helping anyone.”

Least of all themselves.

Akira leaned over the counter, long eyelashes batting at Goro and that familiar, confident smirk tugging at his lips.

“Well, isn’t it your job to catch them, detective?”

Oh, that damn bastard. It wasn’t that easy. Of course it wasn’t that easy. Akira didn’t even realize that the only reason they weren’t dead yet, was because Shido was too interested in framing them for his own crimes. Goro’s crimes.

And Goro. Goro was sitting somewhere in the middle. Working for his father to take him down from the inside, stuck ruining vampire’s reputations more and more with what he was doing.

He just wanted it to stop. He just wanted it to stop and Akira… Akira…

Well, he wanted him too.

“Maybe I will,” he smiled at Akira, sweetly, sickeningly so. Threateningly. And reveled in the way Akira remained entirely unimpressed, his smirk only growing with the clear challenge hanging in the air. I know who you are , the tense silence between them said. And I know you know. “Maybe they should count themselves lucky I haven’t yet.”

“Maybe they do,” Akira quipped back effortlessly. “Or maybe they want to be caught by a pretty detective like you, ever thought about that?”

And Goro’s stomach did that thing again, that one thing that could distract him from the misery of his existence, the weight of his curse, the burden of his constant thirst. It made little loops and leaps, like hundreds of little bats fluttering around inside.

This couldn’t be his human side. This weakness couldn’t come from his father, no. It was his mother’s side, the predestination to fall for men who were no good for him still running through his blood. He couldn’t fully hate himself for it, either. The curse that had ruined both of them, that he hated. But his mother… His mother had been more than just a vampire.

His mother had been the only good thing he had ever had.

Laughter made its way through his dazzled thoughts, sweet and rare.

“Aw, now don’t go shy on me, I know you’ve got more fire than that.”

Goro looked up, seeing those silver eyes sparkle at him in apparent amusement. Flirting and bantering and teasing and challenging, always baiting him, always giving him his full attention. Akira Kurusu, the leader of the Phantoms, one of the few vampires in the city keeping his true nature a secret.

Funny, how he was the first person he had ever met who had made him believe that maybe, good things were still out there for him.

Goro Akechi could sense vampires as easily as he could sense rain on his skin. They liked to think of themselves as shadows moving through the night, unseen, while spending their days amongst humans, inconspicuous and unknown.

But for Goro, their vampirism was so obvious, it was almost a little painful. He had identified the Phantom Thieves within minutes, that fateful day when he had first laid eyes on Akira Kurusu and his band of outcasts, standing around in the nightlife of Shibuya, believing themselves to be blending in with the masses.

All they could sense in turn was the part of him that was human - Goro had spent many years hiding the rest away beneath his humanity, letting it shine so no one could tell the darkness living inside of him. They thought of him as prey, underestimated him at every turn and then came to realize fairly quickly just how wrong they were.

Akira Kurusu had been different from the start.

Goro wasn’t sure what he knew, but he could tell he knew something - Because Akira had done his very little best to hide his true nature from him at every turn, knowing full well that there was danger in Goro knowing the truth.

Which was flattering, he supposed. Ultimately pointless, but flattering.

Still, as Goro sat on the large branches of a tree close-by the Okumura main quarters, watching the dark group move out of the shadows and towards the entrance, he couldn’t help but wrinkling his nose, wishing they could reel it in a little. He got it, they were on a heist, this was a mission to leave the inhumane CEO of Okumura foods defenseless and poor on the ground, destroying his empire as revenge for all the vampires he destroyed in turn, all the human lives he jeopardized for his successes, they had to be a little dramatic about it but… well, quite frankly, it made Goro’s skin crawl.

The open display of overstated threat, the way their steps echoed in the quiet night, the silence between them, the shadows hanging over them, as if to guard them from his view. The way the night seemed to vibrate around them. The moonlight making their skin look even paler, their eyes glitter even more dangerously.

Sickening.

He couldn’t stand vampires who were so obviously proud of who they were. What they were. The monsters living inside them. He didn’t hate them. He didn’t want them gone. But whenever he looked at them, he thought about how much he hated his own vampire instincts. How much his mum had hated them - enough to abandon him and stake her own heart - and wondered how they could revel in it so much. It should disgust him. It did most of the time.

There was really only one exception.

Steps echoed through the night, so much louder than the Phantom’s steps, even though it was only one person walking. Always the last to leave his office, full of suspicions, wanting to protect his fortune from the greedy, greedy corpses beneath his feet.

The Phantoms were swift and effective.

The shadows moved with them, elegant and quick, heading towards Okumura as if the night around him was spreading, expanding to reach for him and within moments, he was enveloped, his steps faltering as he looked around frantically.

Kurusu’s voice echoed in the dark, as smooth and deep as it always was, but strengthened now from the night and Goro, against his will, felt himself shiver from the force of it.

“Sir Kunikazu Okumura, the great profiteering sinner of greed. Your success and global fame exists due to the tyranny you rain over your employees. Thus, we have decided to end your regime of avarice in the name of the bodies you built it upon.”

Okumura stood frozen in place. Goro could see through the darkness just as well as every full vampire, could smell his fear just as biting and stenching.

(He could also hear his heart pumping fresh, warm blood through his veins, could smell it even from his hiding spot up in the trees, but he wasn’t going to focus on that, no he wasn’t.)

So instead he focused on his next-best drug. Kurusu, as he bared his teeth, stepping out of the darkness surrounding them like a bubble and right into Okumura’s field of view. Watched the way the inconspicuous boy serving coffee had turned into a blood-hungry monster, fangs growing, his face distorted into a horrifying grimace, before he, in the speed of light, jumped at the helpless man and dug his teeth into the side of his neck.

It was erotic, Goro had to give him that, as he sat up there on his tree, shifting uncomfortably, squeezing his thighs together. It was a vampire instinct that wasn’t always welcome but right now, it helped. Watching the dark blood run down Kurusu’s pale chin. Watching those teeth deeply buried in the soft flesh of their victim. Watching the darkness billowing around the scene, like it was in awe of Akira’s strength itself. The other Phantoms sure were - Goro had learned early that they didn’t have a self-control as good as Joker, so they tended to stand back, only be with him to step in and support, should something go wrong.

No, it was Kurusu who drank until his victims were right on the brink of death, yet never crossing over. It was Kurusu who let the lifeless body fall to the ground, throwing his head back to let out a satisfied hiss. It was Kurusu, whose teeth seemed to charge and gleam in the moonlight, who let his tongue run over his lips, catching the last drops of blood caught there.

It was Kurusu who, time and time again, made Goro Akechi’s determination waver, made his convictions falter, made him want to lick that blood right off his lips, made him want to drink and drink and drink…

Urgh. Fuck vampires. And fuck this one in particular.

(No, really. He was trying .)

He waited until the Phantoms had left the scene, then slid down the tree, walking towards the unconscious Okumura, still lying on the ground. The stench of fear and blood was still hanging in the air, like a sweet smelling flower fog, making his head swim.

He knew what he had to do, of course - Shido had made him do so a dozen times now. Kill the human. Leave obvious vampire marks. The only thing new was that this time, he wouldn’t just frame the entire vampire community - he’d frame Kurusu and the rest of his merry group of vampires specifically.

Goro took a deep breath. Let his bloodlust take over. It was easier this way - at least for the moment. To forget everything else and just let the spiral of red and darkness pull him down. His teeth ached. He knelt down and sniffed the bleeding neck greedily. And then, when he finally couldn’t take it anymore, when he had just pulled his head back to get ready for his bite, he-

“Well look who we have here.”

Goro stopped himself at the last moment, pulling back from Okumura dizzily, a little whimper escaping him from somewhere back in his throat that he quickly shut down. He turned around, already knowing who he would find - he would recognise that voice anywhere.

“I knew something was special about you,” Akira Kurusu said, eyes gleaming. “But I had no idea you were a vampire. Haven’t I seen you walk in the sunlight?”

Goro just sat there, kneeling on the ground still, blood so close he could almost taste it on his tongue, his thoughts a jumbled mess of desire and fear, all his plans on the tip of Kurusu’s fingers, ready to be crushed.

“I-” he brought out. Swallowed hard when a new wave of saliva rose. And realized there was really no point in lying, with his teeth out like this and his brain barely functioning. “Dhampir,” he finally brought out. “My father’s human.”

Allegedly.

“Huh,” said Akira and knelt down in front of him, until they were face to face, silver eyes reflecting the moonlight, absorbing it, making his eyes appear almost white as he looked at Goro with so much intense curiosity. “I had no idea.”

He raised a hand, tip of his finger brushing across Goro’s razor sharp tooth. With fascination, Akira watched the dark blood pearl out of the little dot, before his vampire metabolism immediately healed the tiny wound.

If Goro moved fast, he could use his distraction to strike his head off his shoulders. He could tear his throat out here and now. He could-

“You know, if you cared to have a drink with me, I know a few places where you’ll find people who taste a bit… less bitter.”

Every cell in Goro’s body seemed to freeze in shock.

Akira wanted to share a human with him. Wanted them to drink together. Akira, whose skin was pale in the moonlight like a porcelain doll, who looked so erotic when drinking that Goro was still a little hard, who still had blood stuck to his blood red lips, who-

Snap the hell out of it!

Goro tumbled backwards, fell into Okumura and scrambled away from him too, blood smeared over his gloves that he quickly tried to wipe off on the ground beneath them.

“Didn’t look all that bitter when you drank it,” he spat.

Akira looked surprised at the sudden venom in his voice.

“Well, no, of course not, blood is blood,” he said quietly. “I was just saying, if you wanted someone a little less disgusting…-”

“I don’t drink blood!” Goro called out. “I’m not like you!”

Akira stayed very still. Looked down at Okumura. Then at Goro, still half-lying on the floor, his hands propping him up.

“Uh. It looked like that was exactly what you were trying to do, though. I just didn’t want you to have to eat my leftovers, you know? There’s not much left anyway, you’d probably just kill him.”

That was the point. Akira was ruining everything.

“Why did you come back anyway?” Goro asked through clenched teeth. His self-control was excellent but even he had limits.  “Weren’t you done with your dinner yet?”

“I just wanted to make sure he’d survive, Haru was a bit upset,” Akira responded calmly. “Listen, I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. You know me. I’m- I mean, why would I, you’ve seen who I am. I’ve seen you. We’re even, right?”

Goro, against his will, felt himself relax ever so slightly. Felt some of the tension leave his body, making space for thoughts. Making space for lust.

Akira looked at him with open curiosity.

“What’s wrong?”

What was wrong? Everything. Everything. Akira was never supposed to see him like this. More animal than human, cowering over a lifeless body, face a grimace, hunger overwhelming. No one was ever supposed to see him like this. He did what he had to, like everyone did but he had done it in the shadows, had done it and then shook it off, turned it into something not to be associated with him, ever. Had turned himself into the perfect Detective Prince for the media. It was all shattered. It was all torn. And all he could think about was his mother, crying, hands furiously clawing at her face, leaving bloody streaks, as she begged her little son not to look at her.

She’d be so ashamed of him.

Akira would be so ashamed of him. He’d-

“Shit, the others are coming. Come on.” Akira’s fine hearing warned him even before Goro’s did. He jumped to his feet, both arms under Goro’s armpits and pulled him to his shaky legs, pulled him away from the frame of the unconscious prey. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to stay and drink him dry, but instead he let himself be dragged away, followed Akira with stumbling steps, until they had passed a corner, back into the depths of the city, hiding in a dark alleyway.

Only fitting, for the dirty creatures that they were, Goro supposed.

Akira laid a hand on his cheek, turning his head to face him, his thumb surprisingly warm as it stroked over Goro’s cool skin. Only now did he realize he was shivering. Freezing, really. Starving, definitely. For blood, for touch, for any kind of affection. He swallowed and pulled back.

“Stop that.”

“Sorry,” Akira grinned, not looking sorry in the slightest. “I just- I had no idea. You’re like me. It’s- I never thought…-”

“I am nothing like you!” Goro hissed and Akira’s grin - finally - died.

“I thought you didn’t hate us,” he said, voice heavy. “Was that a lie too?”

Yes. No. God. Fuck.

What was he even supposed to say to that?

“I don’t.”

I mostly just hate myself.

“Then what the hell is your problem?”

And there it was. Akira Kurusu had turned into that dark, legendary Phantom, his silver eyes darkening to gray metal, his words a roar, holding so much power, it made Goro shiver. He felt like falling apart. He felt like telling him everything. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t lose the last, feeble grip on his control. Instead, he did what he always did when cornered by feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“ My problem? I told you my problem a million times! My problem is people like you, thinking they can just control people by threatening them, by attacking them! My problem is thinking you’re solving any problems in society this way, while there’s a man calling for your extinction because you’re dangerous. My problem is you thinking the world is your playground. You and your band of vampires, you’re making it harder for everyone else!”

“Me and my band of vampires are just trying to survive. He was trying to sell Haru to be experimented on! To ‘find a cure against vampirism’. It’s torture, is what it is! What were we supposed to do, ignore that?”

Goro flinched back as if hit in the face.

“He promised he would help me,” his mother whimpered, lying in a corner, broken, as this was one of her bad days, tears not even coming. Just dry and empty, as she stared right through Goro. “He promised he could cure me. I didn’t know better. I didn’t want this for you. I never-”

“He what?” he asked, voice tiny. Shido hadn’t told him that. He knew of a lot of Okumura’s crimes done in Shido’s name but he had left this part out. Intentionally. Which meant-

Fuck.

Fuck .

So he didn’t trust Goro after all, was that it? He had to at least have suspicions. Maybe even knew his background? Did he remember his mother? Did he know who he was? But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Or maybe not. If he had done research into him, after that day Goro had walked in, offered his services to him, then maybe… maybe…

Akira looked uncomfortable, hands in his pockets as he slowly shuffled his feet.

“Listen, we’re not trying to control anything. We’ve been treated horribly by humans and we’re sticking together. We’re standing up for those who need it. That’s all. I get it, you’re angry. The anti vampire rhetoric keeps spreading - but that’s not our fault. It’s Shido’s. You know that. You’re smart like that. So just…-”

“How can you be so proud of it?” Goro snapped. “You think that’s why I’m angry? I have nothing to do with vampires. I’m half human. Human ! But you, you walk around and you drink and you… you…” He waved at the little cloud of darkness that seemed to follow Akira around everywhere he went. “... and you’re so freaking dramatic.”

“There’s nothing wrong with what we are, Akechi,” Akira told him calmly. “Everyone might try to tell you that there is, but there’s not. We’re people, just like them. We just have other needs.”

“Needs that hurt people!”

Akira shook his head sadly.

“What, haven’t you ever talked to your mother about this? She must understand what it’s like to be a vampire, right?”

Goro stared at him for a long time, silent. Anger and pain and confusion were fighting a battle in his insides.

“My mother staked herself when I was 8,” he finally said. Short and toneless, so that Akira knew not to give him any pity. He didn’t want any pity. He didn’t need-

“Ah,” made Akira. “That explains… a lot.”

Okay, a little sympathy would’ve been nice, actually.

“Like what?” hissed Goro. “What does it explain?”

“Why you hate yourself so much.”

“I am not a vampire! I-”

“You drink blood. You’re immortal. You probably get a headache in direct sunlight. There’s a part of you that’s a vampire and it’s craving a life you refuse to give it. No wonder you’re miserable.”

“You don’t know me at all. Why on Earth would you think I’m miserable?”

And Akira, the eternal pest that he was, raised his hands, counting on his fingers.

“One, no friends, two, being crucified by the public, three, hiding your true identity from the world, four, suppressing your bloodlust, leading to total loss of control like with,...” He stopped himself, giving Goro a glance, mouth hanging open in obvious thought and then, “Oh my God, you were trying to kill him, weren’t you? You’re the one who staged the attacks. You’re- But why?”

Well that was it, then. Everything was ruined.

Goro kept his voice emotionless as he answered, feeling numbness spread inside of him.

“Shido is my father. I am trying to get him to the top so that I can publically make him admit to what he did to my mother, to me, to the world, and then tear his throat out and let the world watch him bleed out. He ordered me to do this. So I’m doing it.”

“But you hate blood-drinking,” Akira stated more than he asked.

Goro nodded anyway.

“And you’re directly harming yourself by enforcing rhetoric against vampires.”

Goro nodded again.

“And you hate your father.”

Goro nodded emphatically.

Akira stared at him for a long time.

“And you’ve never thought to maybe join us? We can help you. We can take him down together. Without you having to do… those things.”

Goro took another stumbling step backwards. When had Akira’s darkness crept up on them, was engulfing them now?

“I am nothing like you. Why should I join you?”

Akira gave him another sharp look.

“Goro, tell me you haven’t spent your entire life thinking you belong nowhere, simply because humans rejected you. The Phantoms and I, we’re sticking together because we’ve been outcast from society, just like you have. Of course you’re one of us.”

“That has nothing to do with-”

“It has everything to do with it. Let me prove it to you. Come with me.”

He held out his hand, enticing and inviting and Goro shouldn’t. He’d go home and clear his head, try to think through what just happened, what he had just revealed and make a plan to stop the snowballing he had set into motion before it got completely out of control. He should stay as far away from Akira as humanly (he was still part human, no matter what he said!) possible. He took his hand.

“You’ve got one night,” he told him. “When the sun rises, I’ll go home with my headache and you’ll crawl to sleep into whatever hole you came from.”

“It’s an attic, actually,” Akira grinned. “But it’s a deal. One night is all I need.”

Against Goro’s wildest dreams, Akira didn’t drag him into some super exclusive vampire palace blood-orgy but into a little, comfortable jazz bar with dimmed lights and live music.

He wasn’t sure what to make of it. It was a nice enough place, surely, and Goro found he actually really enjoyed the music, but it was hardly proving anything. The sugary drink was nice but didn’t quench the thirst, the craving for blood still making his tongue feel rough and his teeth ache.

That was, until the owner, a shady-looking man named Muhen, stepped to their table and greeted them with a smile.

“Care for some of our… stronger drinks?”

Ah.

So it was one of those places. It made sense now. The fact that they basically walked into an underground bar with no windows. The gloomy atmosphere. He’d heard of places like these, of course. Hell, his mother had worked at one. Vampire hotspots.

“You got someone cute?” asked Akira, twirling the straw in his untouched drink between his fingers and Muhen’s smile grew into a grin.

“Seems like you already found someone cute. But yeah, there’s someone in the back eager to mingle.” Muhen glanced at Goro. “I can give you a duo price, if he’s coming too.”

“Absolutely not!” yelped Goro.

“He’s coming,” said Akira.

“Gotcha gotcha.” Muhen walked off, shoulders still shaking from laughter. Goro wanted to kill him and everyone else in this bar.

“So that’s what you think will get me interested in vampirism? Human freaks letting themselves be bitten?”

Akira shrugged.

“Right now, it’s mostly about inhibitions and blood and realizing that you feeding doesn’t always cause hurt. After that, we’ll get to the community part. Come on. You promised me this night.”

And so Goro found himself yet again stumbling behind Akira, his allure still the strongest pull even in this shady little bar, in this shady little backroom, with nothing but them and the hauntingly sweet smell of human blood between them.

There was a guy lying on the bed, and he was cute, Goro supposed, by human standards of people who hadn’t met Akira Kurusu. Well-trained body, nicely trimmed, dark hair, a very symmetrical face. He also looked drugged out and blissful, arching on the bed as they came in, his head lolling to the side to offer his neck readily.

Akira giggled.

“They’re always so dramatic.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Goro said between closed lips. “Wrapped anyone in darkness, lately?”

Akira, to his credit, immediately looked sheepish.

“Well, you know, can’t call yourselves the Phantoms and not do a little shadow work.”

Goro nodded his head towards the man, who had his eyes closed and was eagerly awaiting his bites. He was a bit of an idiot, clearly. Great. Drinking idiot blood had …. well, it had kind of been on his agenda, so what did it really matter whether he drank Okumura’s or this willing moron’s blood, who was probably trying to pay off his college fees?

(It mattered to Shido, of course. But Goro was not going to tackle that thought process tonight. His plan lay shattered at his feet. How much worse could it get?)

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Maybe a little bit of forgetting could be good for him. Just a tiny bit. Maybe he could let it take him over again, could sink into that crimson allure and drink and drink and postpone regrets to tomorrow.

It smelled so good. He was still so hungry .

Goro felt his fangs extend again and let them. Stalked closer towards the bed. Akira stepped on the other side, beckoning him closer. He looked like a dark revenge angel, the way he was kneeling on the bed with one knee, his fangs out, hovering over the drugged out human shape on the bed. Goro suddenly remembered the draw he’d felt when he’d watched him drink Okumura’s blood and he sat back on his end of the mattress, watching Akira, entranced. And Akira winked at him, clearly not minding the audience, his darkened metal gray eyes making Goro shiver, before he finally turned his attention to his meal and sunk his teeth in.

It was so much worse than with Okumura. The smell exploded between them as soon as the first drop of blood was drawn, making Goro’s head dizzy. Akira looked almost ethereal, with his teeth so firmly linked with the squirming frame on the bed. The man moaned and Goro suppressed the urge to do so too. Suppressed the urge to lean over and lick the blood off Akira’s cheek, as it was running down, leaving crimson marks on the pale skin. Barely resisted the urge to rub his suddenly achingly hard cock.

But it was overpowering. It was all around him. And when Akira looked up with blood-stained lips and leaned over their whimpering donor to kiss him, the sweet taste of blood covering his own lips like hot chocolate, Goro lost all his self-control to overpowering want .

He groaned and threw himself at Akira, started sucking at his lips until every drop of blood was consumed, bit his lips when that wasn’t enough and his blood was… it was good but it wasn’t what he needed, wasn’t what he wanted right now. Akira’s hands on his face were cool against his heated skin. He cradled him between his hands softly, then turned him towards the man, currently bleeding onto the sheets.

“Take your fill,” he breathed.

And Goro was so tired of holding back from what he wanted. Blood, revenge, Akira, it should all be his. Why shouldn’t he take it, why shouldn’t he let himself have it, when it was all being offered to him, just like that? Why shouldn’t he- why should-

The man’s hand rose, even with his eyes still closed, he found Goro’s shirt, pulling him down against his neck. He smelled so sweet. With a loud moan, Goro finally, finally gave in and buried his teeth in the soft flesh.

Immediately, all thoughts ceased. He was only instinct and feeling and raw want. He drank in full, greedy mouthfuls, let the taste explode on his tongue, let the energy invigorate him. The ache finally ceased but he still didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Something was missing. He needed more, he needed… needed-

And then Akira was behind him and he knew just what he needed. Goro pushed back against him, his lips never leaving the human’s neck, and felt Akira’s hard cock rub against his ass. Goro moaned loudly. Instinct drove him to drink more but instinct also wanted Akira, so he kept rutting his ass against him, felt his hands run over his body and let them. Reveled in them.

There were hot lips gently sucking on his neck, leaving marks no doubt, but not biting, not trying to turn him into prey. Goro was anyway. Thoroughly caught. Enthralled by the taste of blood. He would drink and drink and drink until there was nothing left to drink and then he’d share with Akira, would kiss him dizzy with blood on his lips and…-

Goro let out a snarl as he was pulled off the man, but Akira’s low chuckle in response immediately refocused his attention. The roughness in his deep voice, the glitter in his darkened eyes… Goro jumped at him instead, finally focusing his entire attention on Akira, throwing him onto the bed and climbing on top of him to kiss him deeply, purring as he lavishly pressed against his body, leaving bloody traces on those lips that Akira hurried to lick off.

“See?” he finally breathed against his. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

No, this wasn’t bad, this was glorious. This was everything he ever wanted, right below him. He felt so sated but not merely enough - because it was never enough. But Akira was right here and that’s what made it good, what made it right. If only he had done this sooner. If only he had given into his instincts instead of his petty revenge on his…

Goro’s eyes shot open as he remembered Shido and he rolled off Akira, the haze that had befallen him since he’d closed in on Okumura’s lifeless body finally lifting now that he was fed. He fell off the bed, crawling backwards away from- from whatever he had done - staring at Akira, who stared back at him.

“It’s okay,” he said after a moment of shocked silence. “You liked it, right? Doesn’t that count for something?”

Did it? Not really. His mother would hate him. She’d hate him. She’d hate him like she hated herself. He had wanted to do her right, make her proud, get her the revenge and acknowledgement she so desperately deserved, but instead he’d become… a monster. Oh God, what had he done? He’d lost control. He’d lost the one thing he had left to lose.

The man on the bed groaned, slowly sitting up and pressing a towel to his neck that had been prepared for him on a bedside table.

“Yo, that was amazing,” he said dreamily. “You vamps are so fucking cool, man.”

God, Akechi hated college dudebros.

“I’m not-” he started and then stopped himself. Pointless. He’d just sucked this man’s blood, of course he wouldn’t believe him if he told him. And why should he? Why should anyone?

He glanced at Akira who smiled back at him and soundlessly formed the words “yeah, you are” with his lips.

And Goro wasn’t sure how to prove him wrong. All he knew was that he had drank blood and liked it. Had gotten entirely high from it.

But he still wasn’t satisfied. He might never actually be satisfied.

Because he still wanted Akira.

Goro spent the next few days avoiding everyone. The media, his fans, school, Sae-san, Leblanc - especially Leblanc - and worst of all: Shido. The news of Okumura’s attack had spread fast - and so had the news of his continued survival.

Goro was, mildly put, not sure what to do now. 

Shido would murder him. He’d live for about as long as he was interested in believing he could still be useful and then his father would send one of his vampire hunters and drive a stake through his heart. The media would crucify him. His fans would be too busy being shocked he was a dhampir to even mourn him. His mother would rejoice, probably, with their curse finally wiped off the face of the Earth.

Akira…

No, he wasn’t even going to think about him. This was all his fault. Goro, sitting in a corner with his entire body tensed and a gun clenched in his cold fingers, it was all his fault. Goro, having gone home and jerked off furiously to the memory of the taste of blood and Akira on his tongue. Goro, who had lived for over a decade with his blood lust in control, now slipping, slipping further into darkness.

All Akira’s fault.

And the fucker hadn’t even called.

Made out with him, shared blood with him, promised him that he belonged and then dropped him as soon as he had gotten what he wanted, as soon as Goro had melted in his grip like the chocolate bunny from last Easter no one wanted to eat anymore. Had simply-

Goro’s phone vibrated next to him, making him flinch. He’d turned off the light in the room, pretending not to be home for any potential hitman coming his way. He glanced at the screen - if Shido was still calling, he was most likely not murdering him yet.

But it wasn’t Shido.

Goddammit.

He really shouldn’t answer. Should let Akira get accustomed to being gone.

He did it anyway. Something about that rotten creature of the night made him make all the wrong choices, willingly, knowingly, running into his doom.

“What?” he spat into his phone, eyes still glued to his entrance door. Had he just heard steps from outside? No human could sneak up on him with his senses alert, of course, but Akira had more than once proved unhealthily… distracting.

“Hey, are you alright? I passed by your apartment but nobody seemed to be home.”

“I’m fine.”

“Wow, I never heard you this short. Dhampir Goro sure is a bit of a grump, huh?”

“Leave me alone, Kurusu.”

“Oh, I’m Kurusu again?” the chuckle on the other side of the line should be infuriating, but it still filled Goro’s stomach with fluttering affection.

Screw Akira Kurusu. Goro had him all figured out now. He was like blood - a temptation all his senses were programmed to be unable to resist, but so so unhealthy.

“You know what they say about distance - it comes quickly.”

Five days. And they had been anything but quick.

“Actually, what they say is that it makes your heart grow fonder.” He could practically hear the cocky smirk through the line, could imagine it spreading on his face, gorgeous and smug and gross. “Anyway, I’m sorry. I would’ve come by earlier but I was kind of busy with, you know, Phantom stuff. Some friends needed help against a werewolf pack-”

There. There was a shadow outside one of Goro’s windows. He’d caught it from the corner of his eyes. Automatically, he drew back against the wall, the hands around his gun tightening.

“Hey, is that you sitting slumped in the corner? What the hell is going on?”

Goro blinked. Blinked again.

“You’re here ?” he hissed. “Are you crazy? How do you know my address anyway?”

“My friend found it for me,” Akira laughed through his phone. “And if you come out of that corner you’re snuggling, I’ll be happy to introduce you two. I think you’d like her, she’s a Featherman nerd too.”

“Glad this is all so very amusing to you,” Goro replied dryly. “Shido is likely sending a vampire hunter to finish me off because of your interference and you’re having a mighty laugh. Hahaha. I can’t contain my laughter.”

There was a short pause, and when Akira spoke again, his voice was dangerously low. He was angry, he realized with a start, but not with Goro.

“Goro, get out of there, now. You’re staying with me until we take care of Shido. No one is going to hurt you.”

He wanted to tell him where he could shove his pretense of care. He wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to be saved by some rusty old vampire. He wanted to tell him to go to hell.

But he hadn’t properly slept in days and his human side was so tired and having a place to go, off the grid, where Shido’s goons couldn’t find him, couldn’t reach him, sounded so lovely. And Akira… Akira was right outside that door, calling him and maybe they could drink blood again… No . No blood. Nothing like that. But he was so tired . He really couldn’t blame his sleep-deprived brain to want to give in to his baser instincts now, could he?

“I’ll need to pack some stuff,” he told Akira, all fight leaving him at the prospect of having somewhere safe to sleep. “Give me a minute.”

He could still be mad at him once he was well-rested.

“Alright. I’ll wait outside. Hurry, yeah? I’m worried.”

The line clicked and Goro was left alone.

Goro stood up in his dark apartment, looking around aimlessly, frantically. What the hell was he even going to bring? He barely had any personal belongings that mattered to him anyway.

Okay. Okay, he could do this. He headed for his bedroom, hands trembling as he reached for his bag. Vampires could go forever without sleep but Goro still needed rest and he hadn’t gotten any in ages. He blindly stuffed some clothes into his large duffel bag, and a lot more cautiously grabbed his mother’s photo to put into a side pocket. He hesitated, then put his gun inside.

“Toothbrush,” he muttered, turning towards the bedroom door to head to the bathroom.

That’s when his world exploded in an ear-shattering smashing of glass.

Before Goro could do more than notice the shards of glass attacking him like little flying daggers, before he could even turn around to look at his window, a heavy weight had jumped him, pressing him to the ground.

He instinctively dipped into his vampire strength, kicking out to shake off whoever was battling him to the floor, and found his leg caught by a strong hand. Without thinking, Goro grabbed it blindly from behind and pulled hard, flinging the person across the room. He expected to hear a heavy body crash into his bookshelf, but when he finally got back to his feet, looking at his attacker, he found that he had caught himself and was cowering in a predatory manner on his bed, lurking, watching, preparing his next attack.

His eyes were gleaming bright red.

Goro was strong but he wasn’t strong enough to win against a vampire - there was a reason Shido usually didn’t employ them for his schemes of taking over Japan. They weren’t as easy to take out again.

But it seemed he had already found a replacement for the assassin he was going to assassinate. How thorough of him.

Goro whirled around, trying to head for the door but the vampire behind him laughed and within a second, stood in his way, teeth bared.

“Now, don’t be difficult, little dhampir. I promise I’ll end you quickly.”

Goro whirled around again, not letting himself take any second to think. He ran to the window the vamp had smashed in, attempting to jump through the hole, but before he could even get a foot out, he was grabbed from behind and smashed to the ground so hard, he saw stars for a moment. There were shards burying into his back and a vampire on top of him, grinning nastily as he raised his hand to…

Fuck.

Goro caught the hand with the stake with all the power he could muster up, breathing heavily as he fought against a full vampire’s strength to hold it off, but he was tired and he was hurt and he was half-human and inch by inch, the stake shifted closer to his heart, the man laughing mockingly all the way down.

“Time to go to sleep, little boy.”

Everything went really fast after that.

A loud bang tore through the room, then another, and within a blink of his aching eyes, the weight of the vampire had been lifted off Goro and the stake fell to the floor, forgotten. In his wrecked bedroom stood Akira, pressing the vampire against a wall, his face an angry, violent grimace in a way Goro had never seen before. Akira let the vampire dangle, pulling back as he watched him scramble in the air, raising both hands and trying to ease the iron tight grip around his neck. Then Akira smashed him against the wall again.

Goro heard his skull crack with a feeling of satisfaction but Akira barely seemed to register it through his rage. He pulled back again, crushing the hitman against the wall a third time, before he finally let go of the slack body, letting him slide to the floor.

“Wha- what the hell?!” he panted, staring at Akira with wide, bloodshot eyes, his voice barely carrying the words anymore. “Who’re you?”

Akira’s eyes were gleaming dangerously and his face turned into stone, as he knelt down beside the vampire, pulling his head up to his by his hair.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” he said, before, with one swift move, tearing the head off the vampire’s neck.

Goro watched with fascination. The way blood fountained out of the open stump. The way Akira held the head high in his hands, grip still in the man’s long hair, but his heated, gloriously darkened eyes on Goro.

Goro, who felt every single shred of his earlier doubts and insecurities and fears fall off him, at least for the moment. No one had ever killed for him. No one in this universe had ever looked so good doing it, either. He was sure in a million years, he wouldn’t forget the image of Akira standing over this dead body, holding a man’s head with that expression on his face, to be illuminated by the moonlight falling through Goro’s shattered window.

“You got your things packed, honey?” Akira asked as if the only thing interrupting them had been the dog barking.

Goro stared at him, indulged just for a glorious moment longer, then Akira finally let his arm sink and the head fell to the floor, rolling over his ruined linoleum.

“Sorry,” he said with his voice a lot smaller now. “I guess that got a little violent, I-”

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Goro hurried to interrupt him and Akira’s face immediately lit up, beaming at him with the strength of several suns.

How unfitting for a vampire who had just single-handedly beheaded someone with his bare hands.

How cute, though.

Goro raised his bag into his field of view.

“I was just about to get my toothbrush.”

“Gotta keep those fangs healthy,” muttered Akira under his breath, making Goro laugh as he took a large step over the dead body lying between them and headed into his bathroom.

“Well, I’m going to need them, am I not?” Goro grinned as he came back out with his toothbrush, hairbrush and some of his make-up.

He felt re-energized. Weirdly cheerful. High. He knew this was probably the adrenaline, that he’d feel the tremble more later on, that he’d fall into despair, that he’d remember just how trapped he was a minute ago, but right now, all that mattered was Akira. Akira and the puddle of blood he was standing in, the blood of his enemy, spilled for him.

“Seeping into my socks,” Akira said with a nose wrinkled in disgust and shook his boot a little to get rid of any droplets of blood sticking to his leather. “How about we get the hell out of here?”

Akira headed for the door, then hesitated. “Would you like me to dispose of the body? Someone will eventually find it, I’m sure.”

Goro stared at the body on his bedroom floor, then shrugged.

“No. Let them find it. It’ll be a message to Shido not to mess with me.”

It’ll also be a message to the public. One that he was beginning to realize needed to be sent if he wanted to come out of this alive.

He turned to Akira, grabbing his jacket with one hand, and found him watching him curiously.

“Let’s go.”

Goro wasn’t sure what he had expected. Some dark underground liar in the sewers of Tokyo, crowded with vampires all doing Akira Kurusu’s bidding? A shady black market full of the largest variety of creatures? An empire in the Tokyo subway net?

Certainly not a run-down attic with sun-filtering glass right over the café he was frequenting.

Akira had told him but he had thought he was kidding .

“It’s not much,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully and Goro had to agree.

It certainly wasn’t. Just a narrow, dusty mattress on some milk crates, a sofa, a table in the corner and a plant that looked like it had seen better times. On the shelves lay some random knick-knack, giving the room a certain storage vibe.

The only good thing Goro could say about it was that it smelled pleasantly of curry and coffee from downstairs.

“We’ll have to share the bed. Or I could take the sofa, I guess.”

Goro turned back to the sofa. There was a bump under the polyester that Goro really hoped came from a loose spring and not some rodent living beneath it.

“Sharing will be fine,” he simply said and found Akira gazing at him with relief so obvious, it was kind of amusing.

“Okay, well, you can just put down your stuff and feel right at home. The café will be closed for another few hours, but Sojiro normally comes in around seven to set up and get ready to open. If you want a shower - Well, we don’t have one here…”

Of course they didn’t.

“...but there’s a bathhouse across the street that stays up at night for vampire business. I can lend you some towels.” Akira let his gaze wander up Goro’s body. “You’ve got some blood on your clothes, is that yours or his?”

Goro turned his head a little, staring down his back and found that yeah, his shirt was crusty from dried up blood. Huh.

“Probably a mix?” he said, though truth be told, he assumed most of it was his. “He flung me into a bunch of shards from my broken window.”

Something on Akira’s face twitched. It was funny how his expression could shift from an awkward boy who was showing Goro around in his dingy attic to a dangerous predator so quickly.

Then again, maybe the Detective Prince shouldn’t be the one to talk.

“I’ll call the others in here for tomorrow,” Akira said, voice still stony. “And then we’ll talk about how we’ll proceed.”

Goro, instead of answering, let himself fall onto the bed and watched with distant fascination, as little dust clouds rose up next to his face.

Akira cleared his throat embarrassedly.

“I- I don’t use it much.”

“Right,” responded Goro. “Vampires don’t sleep.”

“We can. We just don’t do it a lot.” With a shrug, Akira sat down next to him. He raised his hand as if wanting to rest it on his knee and then hesitated and changed his mind at the last second, letting it fall to his side again, where it was useless. “Are you alright?”

Ah, here it was. The emotional pep-talk. Was he alright?

No, not really. With the adrenaline fading, a certain numbness had spread in his body that he knew was the shock coming through. He had expected Shido to send someone to take him out and yet, he was shocked. Something about him just kept hitting Goro again and again, no matter how used he should be to his father’s cruelty and disregard.

Something about him kept giving him power over him.

Was he alright? What a stupid fucking question.

He looked straight into Akira’s stupidly expectant face.

“Has your father ever tried to kill you?” he asked, voice an angry hiss.

And Akira gave him the flattest of smiles.

“Yes, actually.”

“Oh.”

Goro wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Courtesy of Shido, too,” responded Akira slowly and Goro felt his entire world spin a little faster.

“What?”

“In my hometown, I… I walked home at night and I ran into him trying to force a woman into his car. She was stronger than him but she was sobbing like crazy and he kept saying that he’d tell everyone if she didn’t get in with him, that he’d make sure she’d get killed. I stepped in and I pushed a little harder than I had meant to and that was that. He made sure everyone knew what I was. He was so fast with it too…” Akira took a deep breath, looking down at his knees instead of Goro’s face now. “My father tried to stake me two nights later. Barely lost any sleep over it, I suppose. Sneaked into my room by day and hoped to find me weakened and sleeping. I was barely even turned. Only a couple of months before.”

Goro felt something cold grasp around his heart, like a huge, squeezing fist.

“Did you kill him?” he asked, voice rough.

Akira flinched.

“What? No! I just- I ran away. Came here. If Sojiro hadn’t taken me in, who knows what would’ve happened.”

“Oh,”  Goro said again, feeling his stomach sink.

What had he thought, asking that question? He really needed to get it together. Akira wasn’t like him, Akira was… But the image of him holding that head up, the wide, terrified eyes still open in his grip, wouldn’t leave Goro alone.

“I want to kill yours though,” Akira said, his voice shifting again from the scared little boy to the stone-cold killer and Goro shivered in anticipation.

He could be honest with him, right? This once in his life, he could say the words that waited on his tongue, that had craved to be spoken ever since he was put in this world, ever since he had learned how to speak.

“So do I.”

They looked at each other for a long moment. Somehow, Akira seemed to be aware of the importance of this moment.

“I’ll put it on the agenda for tomorrow, then,” he finally said, smiling softly and Goro felt himself recoil at the thought of more people learning about this mess he was in.

“I doubt your friends will want to risk everything for someone like me,” he finally said before he could stop himself, words coming out bitter and Akira laughed.

“Goro, you’re one of us. And we protect our own. Don’t worry about it. We had Shido on our radar for a while, anyway, after… well, everything.”

Goro snorted.

“To what? Attack until he bleeds a little and hope it’ll teach him a lesson?”

“We do that to make a point to the human world that we’re better than them - you know, the ones who take us out without remorse and then refuse to put the people on trial who did it,” Akira said coldly. “But I don’t have to make a point with Shido. He’s rotten inside and out and everyone knows, except for those who don’t want to know. He’s dead.”

“And then what?” Goro asked quietly. “Your mighty cause to help vampires get justice, where will it go after the loudest voice against vampirism is killed by a band of vampires? What do you think will come from it?”

“You’ll be safe, for starters,” said Akira and Goro had to shake his head. So smart, so brutal, so mystical, and yet he was still so naive.

“Will I be safe or will I be hunted down with the rest of you? The shaky peace between humans and vampires is already on a dangerous tightrope act, threatening to fall any day now. Making Shido a martyr might just push it over the edge.”

For a long moment, Akira said nothing. Then, softly, he said, “We’ll discuss it tomorrow. Right now, you need sleep. And I want to look at your wounds for a moment.”

“They’ll have healed.” But Goro still shifted on the bed, slipping out of his jacket and opening his shirt anyway. It couldn’t hurt. And he was tired of pretending he didn’t want to be taken care of, just a little bit. Tired of pretending he didn’t want the safety of Akira’s presence, his gaze, his bed, his arms. He let the shirt slip down his shoulders, brushed his hair aside and held it and turned his back to Akira.

Goro had learned early to never turn his back on dangerous predators. Funny, how readily, how trusting he threw all his principles overboard for Akira.

It didn’t even hurt.

Neither did the finger slowly tracing over his back. There was the softest of pressure, reminding him that something had been there but that was it. Nothing else but Akira’s cool fingertips, leaving chills wherever they went.

“Yeah,” he finally breathed. “It’s healed.”

“I’m not that fragile,” Goro smiled and he couldn’t help the soft note in it, couldn’t help that all his usual sharpness was escaping him with Akira’s touch so featherlight on his skin.

“Nah, you’re tougher than most people I met,” Akira grinned. “But I was hoping for an opportunity to kiss it all better.”

“Oh, stop it,” Goro told him half-heartedly, then got off the bed, slipping off the rest of his shirt and bent down to rummage in his bag for a change. The heat of Akira’s gaze on his backside was as intense as the sun.

Goro smirked.

Without turning around, he said, “you know, if you like my ass that much, you could always beg for it.”

Laughing, Akira let himself fall onto the bed, the mattress making a dull sound as his weight dipped against it.

“Oh, I don’t beg, Goro. I’m way too used to simply taking what I want.”

Goro had some quick-witted remark about consent on his lips and let it die, because the realization that Akira had it and how enthusiastic it was and just how much he wanted him tied his tongue into a knot.

Instead, he turned to smile at the vampire.

“We’ll see about that - surely, you’ll accompany me to the bathhouse, won’t you? After all, it’s hardly safe for me to be on my own, considering the dangerous circumstances of our departure.”

It was supposed to be playful but saying it out loud made it come out a little more shaky than he had meant to. Goro liked to pride himself with being adaptable, determined and fearless, but right now, he had to admit he was, most of all, just a - now technically homeless - kid.

Akira seemed to read his thoughts because his smile came easily enough.

“Goro, I’ll accompany you to the end of this world if I have to.”

Goro couldn’t remember a time in his life when he had ever shared his bed with someone. He had often imagined it to be uncomfortable and awkward. He liked to have his space and Akira’s bed had very little of it. He tended to move around a lot before managing to fall asleep. 

So when he, freshly bathed and feeling somewhat drowsy, was staring at Akira’s tiny bed, he felt a lot of dread that had to do with more than just the dirty old mattress hiding beneath the fresh sheets his new roommate had quickly put on.

Akira seemed to be able to read his thoughts.

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t need sleep, so you can have the bed.”

Goro would’ve probably argued in any other scenario, but the warmth of the bathhouse and the comfortable clothes he had slipped into had made his bones heavy from exhaustion, the adrenaline finally wearing off to leave deep fatigue. And so he simply nodded quietly and let himself fall onto the bed.

For a few moments, things were perfectly fine. The bed didn’t seem as uncomfortable as it looked, it was warm and smelled of Akira. Akira was sitting on a sofa, reading quietly. The last hour of the night offered him some leftover darkness before the sun rose.

And then he noticed the loose spring in the mattress piercing his back. The tremble of his muscles that seemed to come from some deep place inside of him. Remembered how close he had been to dying today, to becoming like his mother, staked to the ground to be found by some poor soul, outed to the entire society as a vampire. The stake had been so close too… If Akira hadn’t been there, reacting so fast…

And then, foolishly, his thoughts drifted to his mother and all air seemed to be knocked out of his lungs.

She had looked just as scared as he felt and not for the first time he wondered if during the few seconds the stake needed to dry out her body, she’d thought of him. Had maybe regretted her decision, unable to take it back. Or had she just wished she’d bleed, like a human? Had she maybe-

“Hey, Goro.”

His voice was soft and gentle but it still broke through the labyrinth of his thoughts and now that Goro was back in the here and now, he realized that his tremble had turned into a whole body shaking and there were tears running down his cheeks, hot and salty. “It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

Goro didn’t feel safe, he felt lost. He felt like he was drowning in a room without water. His breath came in little, panicked gasps. The room seemed to swim and close in on him. The world had suddenly become a threatening place and his heart was beating out of his chest as if it was trying to break out. Panic attack. He was close to a panic attack, he…

“So, I haven’t even told you about the others yet,” Akira’s soft voice broke through the haze. “You know who they are, I assume, but you’ve never properly met them, have you? They’re honestly really sweet, you’ll like them.”

Hah, he thought through the dizzying half-light of the attic, swimming around him.

He would absolutely despise them.

Goro let out some aborted noise somewhere between a laugh and a wail and Akira grinned and kept talking, settling  down comfortably next to him, his warmth traveling to Goro, without actually touching him.

“Well, you’ll need to get to know them a little first, but they’re more like you than you’d think. They can be a little much, though.”

Understatement of the year. Goro found the inner picture of his mother’s lifeless form replaced by Ryuji Sakamoto, that blond, loud vampire he’d seen around the café a couple of times. He was obnoxious, of course, had no grace or dignity whatsoever.

It shouldn’t help, but it did.

“I think you’d get along really great with Yusuke,” Akira assured him.

Yusuke Kitagawa, the young artist who had been under Madarame’s tutelage, until the Phantoms had ended him and uncovered a large net of fraud and abuse.

Hm.

Maybe.

“Though I suppose he is a bit weird,” giggled Akira. “He’s the only vampire I know who loves eating human food. One time he spent a lot of money on living lobsters.”

Goro forgot all about trembling for a moment, as he shot Akira the most judgmental glare he could muster.

“That’s who you think I’d get along with?” he asked, indignant and some knot in his chest seemed to loosen at the sight of Akira laughing in response.

“Maybe not, maybe not. But Ann and Sumire you’ll definitely like, you just wait.” He leaned back against the wall, smiling at him. “Any better?”

Goro nodded stiffly, his hand only trembling slightly when he raised it to wipe away his tears.

“My apologies, I just... I usually don’t lose it like this” he muttered and Akira shook his head, an arm slipping around his shoulders and pulling Goro close, until he had his cheek resting comfortably on Akira’s shoulder, his head fitting perfectly into the crook of his neck.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. You’ve been through a lot.”

“You’re surprisingly efficient at handling these things,” Goro poked curiously and Akira snorted.

“What, detective, you think you’re the only one with panic attacks? Come on, you need rest. You look like you haven’t slept in three days.”

“That’s because I haven’t,” Goro sighed but even though he was scared of the pictures the silence in this room would conjure again, he knew Akira was right. He was just so on edge… It was as if the exhaustion only amplified the stress and panic raging inside of him.

Akira let him slide down his arms and back into the pillows, pulling the warm blanket up to Goro’s neck, before moving to get off the bed again.

Goro reacted without thinking, instincts leading him like they did so often when he was around Akira. He grabbed for his wrist, keeping him in place, fingers so tight, a human would probably have broken bones to show for it.

But Akira simply stopped, looking down at him curiously.

“You want me to…?”

“Stay,” Goro confirmed tiredly, too tired to care about the remnants of his pride any longer. “Don’t leave me alone.”

And Akira didn’t. As if it was the only thing he needed to hear, he immediately slid down into a lying position himself, pulling Goro into his arms. Warm and protective and safe, they kept his dark thoughts away. Not even they wanted to mess with a vampire, after all.

“Haven’t slept in years,” yawned Akira. “Got too many shitty dreams. But who knows, might be fun.”

The last thing Goro remembered before falling asleep was a leg slipping between his, a warm body pulling him even closer and a light, even breath that made him smile against the chest he was using as a pillow.

And then - peace.

Akira was wrong, of course.

He fucking hated the other Phantoms.

Mostly, because the peaceful, wonderfully restful sleep he had fallen into found a rude ending far too by sunset the next day, brought by a loud and nerve-wrecking, “hey, what’s up?!”, echoed by six people asking a similar variant of the question upon coming in whenever Goro decided to try and fall back asleep. And then the chattering got so loud and unbearable, he considered luring and locking them into a sun filled greenhouse the next time he met them.

Instead, he rolled onto his back, trying to suppress the light mourning he felt upon Akira not holding him in his arms anymore, and listened. He couldn’t hear Akira’s talking parts because he was actually wonderfully quiet, but from the reactions he did hear, he could venture a good guess on what they were talking about.

“For real?! Is he alright?”

“Oh God…”

“As in upstairs?? Right now??”

Maybe he should simply jump out of the window.

Instead, Goro rolled out of bed, fixed his hair, put on his brightest Detective Prince smile and Akira’s sweater hanging over the bleak room’s single chair and made his way down the stairs, straight into the lion’s den.

Except the predators downstairs were so much more dangerous than lions.

He might as well get it over with.

There was instant, glorious silence in the café as soon as Goro took the first step.

Sadly, as all good things, it didn’t last: When Goro had reached the booth they were all gathered in, the Phantoms seemed to have regained their composure. Takamaki was the first to react. She jumped off her seat and rushed towards him, making him flinch and prepare for attack, before he suddenly found two arms tightly around his neck, squeezing him to her chest.

“Oh God, are you okay? That must’ve been so stressful! Akira told us everything! God, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Maybe you should let him sit down before you ambush him,” Kitagawa offered with a chuckle and Goro would’ve given him his explicit gratitude, if he wasn’t currently occupied with standing frozen in shock, overwhelmed by… kindness?

They all looked genuinely concerned and comfortable around him. Even as Takamaki grabbed his hand and dragged him to a seat next to her.

“Are you really alright?” Yoshizawa asked him with wide, concerned eyes.

“I’m perfectly fine,” he lied. “This is hardly the first assassination attempt I had to deal with.”

Though, frankly, the others were ones conducted by him.

“And you’re really a dhampir?” asked Makoto Niijima, sounding just as inquisitive as her sister always did. “I have to say, you did an incredible job at hiding it. None of us had any idea. I don’t think even sis knows and she sees you fairly regularly.”

Goro glanced at Akira, who was leaning against the counter and found him smiling back at him, then quickly averted his eyes when Sakamoto started talking.

“So is it true you want to get back at Shido? That he tried to kill ya, man?”

God, what an obnoxious person.

He glanced at Akira again, who was lowering his head, corners of his lips twitching in amusement. It seemed he hadn’t told them anything more than necessary.

Goro looked into the round and saw nothing but worried expressions. For a bunch of vampires, this lot sure seemed… rather normal. Human, even. Definitely concerned for his well-being. And Goro had not missed the way little Futaba Sakura’s hand clenched into a fist at the mention of Shido. How Sumire had shifted closer to her to lay a comforting arm around her shoulders. So they hated him too. Good. Good.

Goro dared a third glance at Akira. Akira cocked his head in return and then slowly, just once, nodded.

Fine.

He had absolutely nothing left to lose anyway.

“Masayoshi Shido is my father.”

Everyone seemed to freeze in their seats, staring at him and Goro, with his chin held high, stared back.

“Your father?” asked Takamaki. “But you’re a dhampir, so…”

“So Shido is a hypocrite who pretends to hate vampires while being one,” mumbled Haru Okumura. “I can’t say I’m shocked.”

“Actually, he’s human,” Goro corrected softly. “My mother was a vampire.”

The silence spreading in the room was instant and heavy. When it was finally cut through, it was from the source Goro had least expected to speak up.

“Was?” asked Futaba Sakura, then immediately covered her mouth with both hands after Niijima’s soft nudge of her shoulder. “Sorry, I just- Sorry. That’s-”

“Yes, my mother died when I was eight.” Really, he wasn’t made of glass . And he had been well aware that the topic would come up eventually. “She staked herself, unable to live with herself. She always told me she hated the curse. Hated that she had spread it to me. That it was the curse’s fault that my father left her. That she was disgusting to him. To the world. And all he ever did was spread those same…-” He cut himself off, because apparently he was made of glass after all. Because he felt his hands shaking again in suppressed rage and other emotions he did not particularly want to explore in front of all the Phantoms.

Maybe in front of Akira. One day. Maybe.

“He apparently told her that he would cure her,” he sighed once he regained some of his composure. “That he could find a way to turn her human again. And then he abandoned her, laughing and saying he would never stay with a filthy vampire like her.”

“So you wanna kill that bitch or what?” asked Sakamoto and Goro thought, suddenly, that maybe he had to review his opinion on the guy.

“I thought the Phantoms don’t kill.”

Everyone exchanged meaningful glances and then they all turned to Akira, who was still standing against his spot on the counter, visibly smirking now.

“Usually, we ask the victims themselves if they want our targets dead. They just happened to choose against it a lot. Ann wanted Kamoshida to keep suffering instead of allowing him release. Yusuke…”

“I feared that if I succumbed to my urge to kill him, it would not make me any better than him,” Yusuke explained himself, his calm voice impressing Goro against his will. “But I won’t judge you, should you choose differently. After all, I can understand the pain of losing a mother to a rich man’s greed.”

Futaba played with her phone in her hands, twirled it back and forth, seemingly lost in thought.

“So do I,” she finally said. “And I wanted Shido to suffer in prison for it for the rest of his life.” She took a deep breath. “But that’s mostly because I’m not much of a killer. But he’s your father, so it’s your call. And if you wanted him dead, well…” She looked up with eyes glittering with cheeky determination, a look he’d known well from her mother. “...then that’d be your fault, not mine.”

Fair enough.

Goro thought he owed Wakaba just as much as his own mother, all things considered. She had been the one, back then, who’d show him how to control himself. How to use his vampire skills as weapons. How to shut off the overwhelming guilt when he took out another one of his targets.

And then one day she had disappeared and Goro had not been the one ordered to do it, but he had still always known who had ordered for it.

Shido had wanted him isolated, not cared for. Easier to control. Easier to turn into his weapon. And he couldn’t afford loose ends.

“I killed people,” he told them. “In Shido’s name. I spent the last couple of years working for him, trying to figure out how to get to him. That’s why I said all that anti-vampire stuff. That’s why all these people died. Shido ordered it and I did it.”

They deserved that much truth.

But to his surprise, most of them just… shrugged.

“Almost all of us killed people, Goro,” said Akira. “And we’re not scared to do it again. For you. You’re one of us now.”

Goro’s shoulders slumped, all last resistance leaving him. He looked around the booth and saw nothing but doe-eyed agreement. They weren’t just following their leader’s wishes, they really meant it. Somehow, they saw themselves in Goro. And considering their history, well, maybe, he could actually… understand them a little, too.

“Plus, ya know, ‘been a while since I had a real nice smoothie. Akira drank all the good Okumura blood by himself, that greedy bastard.”

Well, he’d said a little .

Akira grinned at Sakamoto but stepped forward. “Well, I think we should let Goro do the honors.”

“There’s no way in hell I’ll drink this bastard’s blood,” he swiftly replied, feeling shivers of disgust only at the thought.

But when he tried to say the “he’s free game” words that were already lying on his tongue, they suddenly got stuck. Didn’t want out. Because he really wasn’t. This was still personal. And besides…

“There’s still one problem,” he said and it was weird to Goro, how quickly he came to rely on these people to solve it with him. How the thing that had kept him up from outright attacking Shido for years now suddenly seemed so easy to overcome. He almost didn’t want to say it, if only so the last years of doing Shido’s bidding hadn’t been for nothing. “If we attack him now, it’ll only make him a martyr. The man brave enough to speak out against the vampires that now killed him. We’ll only make the situation worse for us.”

Everyone looked a little lost at that. Niijima was the first to enter brainstorming mode, ready to take the lead, when Akira stepped forward, cutting her off with his presence alone.

“I have a plan for that,” he told the entire room, but he was looking at Goro. Talking to Goro. “But we can only do this if you trust us.”

“Trust you with what?” Goro asked, tongue dry.

And Akira’s smile was wry and oddly sad.

“Trust us to give you a place here.”

In all the times Goro had dreamed of this day, he had never imagined himself taking his hit on Shido with someone else. He’d been alone in all of the little scenarios in his head.

Doing it in a team, with Akira firmly by his side, should lessen the impact somewhat. Should make it less personal. Should make him feel dependent.

Instead, he just felt weirdly badass.

It’s me, father. And I brought an army.

An army of people caring for him when his own father had failed to do so.

Huh.

He looked up. From his place on the stage, it was sometimes hard to make out the faces of his audience, as there were bright spotlights always blinding his view, but he knew where each of them sat, spread out on the seats so that one of them could always easily reach him, should they need to.

He especially knew where Akira was sitting, right in front of him, watching him and watching over him. Those gray, dangerous eyes always on Goro, right where they belonged.

Goro had felt nervous before this, had paced up and down Akira’s crappy attic until the vampire had dragged him to sleep and now here he was. With the cameras and the lights and the eyes of Tokyo on him, he was like a duck in water: Dazzling the masses, acting his heart out, getting what he wanted by manipulating his crowd… this was something he excelled at.

And Akira was here. All of them were. They were still going to be here after all was said and done.

That was, Goro realized with his treacherous half-human heart speeding up, enough.

Finally enough.

All of them know I was an undesirable child , he thought. And all of them were too .

But for his mother’s sake, the circle would end today.

“Akechi-kun,” said the interviewer, tearing Goro out of his daydreams and back onto the red sofa of the studio.

“My apologies.” Goro laughed his quirky little fake-laugh and gave a dizzying smile to the crowds, who immediately started swooning instead of listening. “I must’ve drifted off for a moment. You were saying?”

“I was asking you about what you thought about stricter vampire bans, since the latest attack on Okumura. Prime minister candidate Shido is saying that-”

“Ah,” said Goro, intentionally putting a dramatically heavy sigh into his voice. “Him.”

The moderator froze, surprised by Goro suddenly going off the script they had prepared for the show, no doubt. Well, he was in for the interview of his life.

“Is… something the matter, Akechi-kun?” he finally asked, voice cautious. Normally, there was a strict unspoken rule about never going off script, either of them, but if a good moderator smelled a story, he wasn’t going to be stopped from poking around a little.

Goro had counted on that.

“Oh, it’s just… Shido-san. It takes a special kind of resentment and self-hate to speak like that about a whole group of vampires, simply because he was rejected and abandoned by one 18 years ago.”

Goro couldn’t remember a studio filled with an audience having ever been so quiet. He could’ve heard a needle drop.

“R-rejected by a vampire? But whatever could you mean, Akechi-kun?”

Goro took a deep breath, pushing down the urge to smirk at the thought of Shido watching him right now, and stood up, making sure that his eyes were wide and innocent and full of silent sorrow, before he addressed the crowd.

Tokyo’s Detective Prince, everyone’s darling, every mother’s dream of a son-in-law, finally speaking up against the society that had wronged him.

And most of it wasn’t even a lie.

(Apart from the parts that were.)

“My mother,” he told them and the words felt heavy and foreign on his tongue. Never in his life had he imagined telling the world that had failed her about his mother, but the plan was good and it was a necessary sacrifice to make. And now that he had begun speaking, he found the words flowed from him easier and easier, leaving his usually pained heart feeling exceedingly light. “She was a vampire. A beautiful one, at that. Every man in our village adored her.”

He let his head hang down performatively.

“And Shido-san did too. We were poor, so when he finally advanced her, she said yes at first. That’s how I was born,” he gave the crowd a sad little smile that he had practiced in the mirror quite effectively beforehand. “Around the time that she finally rejected him, back when she was still pregnant with me, he started threatening vampires, continuing to work against their rights in our world based on his own personal grudge.”

Another heavy sigh into his microphone. He had this whole thing planned to the t. The crowd’s whispers were getting louder with every word he said.

Good.

“Of course, I didn’t know he was my father until recently… My mother had told me of the man but never told me his name. It must’ve been fear. Fear that he would even expose his own son’s identity to the world and prosecute me in the same terrible way he prosecuted my mother.” He looked down, not having to pretend this part. “My poor mother, who I found staked to the ground, because of him. Never has she done anything but try to raise her little son. Why did she have to die?”

His voice break was unplanned. He quickly cleared his throat, turning away from the cameras to catch himself. This was good, probably, only helping his case and yet… He looked up quickly, finding Akira in the crowd, who was smiling at him softly.

Fine. Fine. He could do this.

He was not alone anymore.

“So Akechi-kun…” the moderator said, voice shocked. “Are you saying that you are… you’re…”

Facing the cameras and crowd again, Goro took a deep breath, his shoulders rising along with the rest of him.

“Yes,” he told the upset masses. “I’m a half-vampire. And Masayoshi Shido is my father. And now that I know, he has been trying to silence me. He has sent a vampire to my home to try and kill me. If you send law enforcement, you will find his body still there. I will not keep quiet anymore.”

That was his part done. Now he had to get out of here as fast as he could. Goro turned around to walk off the stage and behind him, all hell broke loose.

“Are we sure this is going to work?” asked Ryuji for what had to be the third time. “Seems like now they just have even more reason to accuse Akechi, ‘s all.”

“They might think of me, but there will be no proof implicating me at the crime scene,” shrugged Goro. “No proof implicating anyone. But a whole world of vampires that suddenly have a reason to come for Shido.”

Makoto put down the fifth paper she’d been reading today, looking grim.

“And no one will blame them either. The public is entirely on your side.”

This had been the tricky part of the plan. The others had insisted it was the way to go and in a way, Goro had understood. He had the masses wrapped around his little finger, he was a good actor, he knew how to entice their sympathies.

But the one thing he really hated was pity and having to stand there and founding his entire acceptance on that one, pathetic feeling people were willing to give him, when no one had supported them when he’d most needed it…

He sighed and a few moments later, found himself pulled into Akira’s arms. Let his head fall against his shoulder, breathing easier for a moment.

It didn’t matter. When he’d gone on that stage, he’d made his choice. Either it worked or it wouldn’t, but after they were done with Shido, no matter what, he would also be done with being the Detective Prince.

“Are you feeling alright?” asked Sumire, as usual sensitive to his moods and Goro shot her a smile.

Out of all the Phantoms (that weren’t Akira), he probably liked her best.

“Oddly, yes. It feels like a heavy weight off my heart.”

“Of course it does, man. You spent years pretending to be something you’re not for these people. Eff all that. You’re with us now.”

So he was. There was only one more thing left to do.

Goro Akechi smiled.

“Put it down.”

“No.”

“Goro, I can see the way your entire body tenses whenever you check your social media. Put it down.”

“But I need to see whether or not they-”

Before he could finish the sentence, Akira had used his vampire super speed (unfair!) to pull the phone out of his hands and throw it behind the bed.

“Hey! I still need that!”

“No, you don’t. Not right now, anyway. What you need is some stress relief. Your entire body looks tense as hell and I haven’t seen you get a minute of actual peaceful sleep in days.”

“You try and publicly out yourself as a vampire to a vampire-hating public and announce your father’s depravity before violently murdering him.”

“And what’s your phone going to change about all that?” Akira asked softly and Goro hated that he was right. Instead of having an answer, because he didn’t, he simply snorted loudly.

Akira, the bastard, grinned, knowing he had won.

“Let’s go out tonight. Have a drink somewhere.”

Goro tried to ignore his entire body singing in pleasure at the mere thought of going out and drinking fresh human blood with Akira again, but to no avail. He sighed.

He’d gotten this far. He’d been outed as a vampire. He had someone with excellent self control with him. He might as well enjoy it a little.

Goro turned to Akira, smirking.

“Last one outside gets the sloppy leftovers.”

Those arrogant full vampires weren’t the only ones with super speed, after all.

When Shido finally announced his press conference to address the - partly blatantly lied, partly blatantly true - statements Goro had made about him, all the Phantoms were ready.

All they had needed, really, was a moment of him leaving his securely guarded Diet Building office or his less securely guarded home to carry his mortal body into a public space. Without invitation, no vampire could enter a fully human’s space - But they could wait outside of it for them to come home just fine.

Once upon a time, Goro would’ve probably considered the Phantoms to be unhealthily co-dependant. But right now, sitting in the bushes, waiting to finally kill his piece of shit father, he couldn’t help but watch with a weird warm feeling of fondness in his chest. Futaba, who was usually fairly reserved around him, came to life with Sumire around. Smiling and giggling and making quips and jokes in some computer language Goro only understood half of.

Ann was bickering with Yusuke, because he had bought himself food he didn’t need instead of paying rent and was asking her to nude model to increase his earnings.

(“Just manipulate your landlord’s mind, Yusuke.” - “I’m not sure how healthy that would be - it would be the fifth time, after all.” - “Just how often do you skip rent??”)

Makoto was in charge of the cat that Akira for some reason had insisted on taking (“He’s part of the group, Goro, and this will be a great moment for all of us, he needs to be there!”). She seemed to take her responsibilities very seriously and was meticulously petting and holding the clearly resistant cat.

It shouldn’t be adorable but it somehow was.

Meanwhile Ryuji and Haru were talking about axes for some wild reason Goro was - quite honestly - unwilling to ask about. Though, he supposed it would be more accurate to say that Haru was talking about axes and Ryuji was standing there listening with wide eyes, soaking up every word and letting out a quiet “woah” and “for real” once in a while. A bit like a wind-up doll, just completely entranced.

“He keeps saying he’s too scared to ask her out,” Akira whispered into his ear, grinning widely. “Maybe you can get him to make a move after all of this. All of us others gave up.”

And then there was Akira, in the middle of it all, having brought thermo cans of blood, smiling sheepishly when he caught Goro’s gaze.

“Well, we won’t know how long this’ll take, right?” he shrugged.

So that was basically it. The vicious Phantoms that held the nation in their grip. Just a band of vampires hanging out. Familial and familiar. With crushes and walls that slowly broke and a cat.

And for the first time in basically forever, Goro understood what Akira had wanted him to understand for so long now. All this time he’d said he didn’t judge vampires as harshly as society had judged his mother, but he’d been wrong. He’d seen them as something ‘other’ , as something dark whose grip he had to escape, had to disconnect from to not fall into the same curse. Had seen vampirism as the source of what had destroyed his mother and would, slowly from the inside, destroy him too.

But he could see clear as day now that that could only happen if he let it. If he kept it suppressed like his mother had until he couldn’t take the shame anymore.

Because the Phantoms weren’t destroyed, they were whole. A group who had held itself together by holding onto each other. Their strength lay in numbers, not in the isolation and loneliness that had killed his mother.

And Goro…

“Do you want to pet him?” Makoto asked, grinning widely and holding up a struggling Morgana. His little paws were kicking out widely but when Goro took him and gently placed him into his lap, he couldn’t seem to hold back his purr.  “He acts like he doesn’t like it but we think he secretly enjoys it.”

Akira swooped down next to them in a heartbeat, laughing as he scratched a little spot behind Morgana’s ear that immediately melted the cat, the purring getting impossibly loud.

“Try that one,” he told Goro.

And Goro did. He scratched Morgana behind his ear, the exact spot, delighted in the little meows and purrs and the way the cat snuggled against him in response.

And Akira was watching and laughing and putting an arm around him and that was the moment it really hit Goro, with full force, all the things he thought he’d known for a while now but that hadn’t registered before now.

He belonged.

He belonged with a bunch of vampires because he was one and it wasn’t going to kill him, because what had killed his mother wasn’t vampirism, it was the scrutiny of society, it was the man who had stoked the fires and then didn’t even bother to stick around and watch her burn to ashes. What had killed her was isolation from the rest of the world brought to her by Shido and tonight, Goro would kill Shido for it.

He was out to the public. He could finally, finally stop this facade of the ever-cheerful and humble Detective Prince. Could go back into the shadows and simply be with these people. People who, from the very first moment, had accepted him for what he really was before even Goro himself had.

All he had to do was kill Shido and then he’d be free to be whoever the hell he wanted to be.

“So, were you ever going to tell me how boring Phantom work is?” Goro asked after a few hours of sitting in the darkness, lurking, waiting.

Akira grinned.

“The thrill of impending murder does die off after around two hours, doesn’t it?”

“And it’s getting late too,” Makoto mused. “The sun will be rising soon. Maybe he’s been home the entire time and is just asleep?”

Goro shook his head softly.

“No, he always has lengthy meetings before his press conferences and announcements. Trying to manipulate people beforehand. Asking them to plant certain questions. He usually takes them out to expensive dinners in shady places and gets them drunk.”

Goro shrugged when all eight faces turned to him with disgusted expressions- even Morgana looked kind of over it.

“He’ll come. The only reason he’s this late is because he has to put extra work in after all I said.”

“Well, let’s hope he comes before the sun goes up,” Yusuke said.

“Yeah, otherwise you’ll be a one-man army,” Futaba huffed.

“But we’ll be cheering you on from the safety of our homes,” Sumire added cheerfully.

And maybe Goro had always been weaker than he knew, maybe he simply had no way of telling because he’d never had this before, but all he could think about was how he really, really didn’t want to do this alone. Not because he was scared but because he felt like he needed a witness. He reached for Akira's hand and found it meeting him halfway. Cool fingers intertwined with his and squeezed him reassuringly.

“If he won’t come in time, we’ll get another chance. It’s not optimal to let him have the conference, but if it can’t be avoided, we’ll deal with it. You won’t have to do this alone.”

“Of course not, dude,” said Ryuji, smiling at him warmly. “But isn’t it cool to know that you could ?”

Goro, as he briefly imagined himself tearing a whimpering Shido apart with his bare hands, found that he couldn’t argue with that.

And then found he wanted Akira there anyway.

The Phantoms got restless the closer the morning came. Eventually, they were slowly beginning to pack up, looking expectantly at Akira as if it was the last five minutes before school ended and he was their teacher, about to release them for the weekend.

He nodded at them. “You lot go home, I’ll stay with Goro a bit longer.”

“Be careful,” Makoto told him with urgency. “I know you want this done, but it’s not worth risking your life over it.”

“She’s right,” Goro told him quietly and was momentarily struck breathless by Akira’s fond smile back at him.

“It’s okay, there’s still some time left and I’m fast. If he doesn’t show up in the next half hour, we’ll leave.”

The others waved goodbye and wished them luck, then disappeared from Goro’s view at high speed. One by one, they just seemed to vanish into the slowly fading night.

“They’re not half-bad, huh?” asked Akira and Goro, because he hated to admit he agreed, simply rolled his eyes.

“They’re alright , I suppose. A bit much. And always quirky - where do they get that good mood from? They can’t even be in the sun. Did you know that the sun is an important factor in people’s moods? It sends-”

“Yeah,” Akira interrupted him with an affectionate grin. “You love them.”

Before Goro could give the scathing reply that was, no doubt, about to come to him quite naturally as soon as he opened his mouth, they heard footsteps in the night. At first, Goro immediately thought one of the Phantoms had returned, but from the way Akira shot up to sit up straight, looking out at the street before Shido’s house, he knew that wasn’t it.

“He’s here,” he whispered almost soundlessly.

Goro nodded, sitting up on his knees, quietly pulling aside a few branches and there he was. His father, walking towards the safety of his home with fast, determined steps, every pore of his body radiating anger.

He would never reach it.

They didn’t even have to talk about it. They moved at lightning speed and in perfect sync. Goro reached his door before Shido did, leaning against it already when the vile man entered his driveway. Akira had positioned himself behind him, blocking the way out.

Shido froze.

“You,” he finally spat at Goro, the shock making space for more rage.

“Me,” Goro responded calmly. “What, you didn’t expect me, Shido-san?” he asked, tone mocking. “I thought I was to be reporting back to you every week? My apologies for the delay. I had a murder attempt to survive, some press to take care of, you understand.”

He smirked his most predatory smirk that he had definitely not practiced in the mirror for this exact moment, because that would be ridiculous, and crossed his arms.

Shido huffed.

“You’re trying to threaten me? Please. You wouldn’t be the first pathetic creature I staked. You’re not even a full vampire.”

“I don’t need to be to take you out,” Goro hissed and then quickly caught himself. Don’t show any anger, don’t show any weakness. “But it’s cute of you to think I’d come without back-up.”

Behind him, Akira took a demonstrative step closer to Shido, the gravel of Shido’s well-kept little front garden path crunching beneath his black boots.

Shido didn’t turn around but Goro could see the tension going through his body, could see the way he had to swallow hard for a moment.

“What do you want?” he finally asked.

“I want to ask you a question.” He watched Shido unclench, just a little. Did he think he was coming out of this alive? Adorable. “My mother. Do you remember her name?”

Shido didn’t respond, just stood there with his jaw clenched tightly shut. Goro hadn’t expected him to - a politician was smart enough to recognise when their lack of an answer should warrant silence instead of attempts to talk their way out of it.

“Of course you don’t. Did you ever stop and think about what you were doing to her? To your own son? Did you ever, just for a moment, wonder if the bodies you walked over were worth the cause of satisfying your never-ending greed?”

“Bodies!” Shido snorted. “Please. They’re already dead. They’re not human. They’re some brutal subspecies. So what if she died. That’s the point . It’s what she deserves. It’s what they all deserve!”

Goro would call him stupid, making this speech in front of two vampires currently in control of the situation. But he knew Shido wasn’t - what he was was impulsive and entitled. He truly believed the shit he spew. He truly believed he was godsent to rid the world of pesky vampires.

Goro would ask Akira to turn him, if he wasn’t so appalled by the thought of Shido having eternal life. Would watch him squirm and break from the same self-hate that had taken his mother and almost taken him.

But he was tired. He was tired of looking at this face that didn’t show even the tiniest sliver of remorse.

“Wrong answer,” he said calmly, not even bothering to meet Akira’s gaze before he attacked. He knew his partner would have his back. When Goro grabbed Shido by his throat with one hand, Akira was by his side already, eyes glowing.

“Bold of you, to send your son after his own community. Now look at what it brought you.”

“A monster,” Shido gurgled out around Goro’s grip. “Just like all of them are.”

“The only monster here is you,” Goro spat back. “But I learned something valuable when Akira here took down the hitman you sent after me. You can’t touch me anymore. You certainly can’t stop me. Because you’re just a tiny, pathetic, mortal man on a soapbox, screaming so people pay attention. Those days are over. Your soapbox will stand forgotten on a street corner.”

Shido weakly kicked out, trying to free himself, his face beginning to look a little red, and Akira laughed coldly at the view.

“And I’ll make sure that after you’re gone, no one will remember your name, just like you didn’t remember my mother’s.” 

He had never done this before - in all of the murders Shido had ordered from him, Goro had mostly just drunk his victims dry. But the thought of having more of Shido’s blood inside of him than already ran through his veins truly disgusted him, so he was as good a test subject as any.

Goro dragged one hand down Shido’s chest, kept holding him up by his throat with the other and finally found what he thought to be the right spot, felt the fast heart beat against his palm. The proof that Shido was only human. That he was as mortified as he should be.  Goro watched the mix of confusion and fear on Shido’s face and thought he could look at it forever. 

And then sharp fingers dug into his chest. Goro clenched his teeth, the feeling foreign and frankly gross. But Akira encouraged him to keep digging with a little hum, so he did. With more power than before, Goro thrust his hand back in and searched inside the open chest until he felt it at the tips of his fingers - the pulsating, rotten thing living inside of Shido.

He wound his fingers around it, squeezing it tightly and then pulled.

Shido was screaming. He was still screaming when his heart was already torn out of his body, the last blood in his brain still keeping it active, before he sacked in Goro’s grip, blood flowing out of his chest, mouth, nose and eyes.

“Urgh,” Goro said, letting the man and his rotten heart  fall to the ground with a disgusted look on his face, quickly moving his favorite shoes out of the bloody puddle quickly building on the gravel. “Not to be rude, but I don’t think I’ll do this again, it’s really gross. Do you have tissues?” What a mistake to take his gloves off for this one.

Akira was chuckling under his breath as he pulled some tissues out of his apparently never-ending picnic supplies bag, and Goro cleaned his bloody fingers as fast as he could. Still, he could already see dried, rusty-brown spots on his fingers that would require a lot of water and soap before he felt fully free of Shido.

Before he could do more than clean himself up though, he suddenly found himself in Akira’s arms, hot breath brushing over the crook of his neck.

“That was so fucking hot. You are so hot. So beautiful. So badass. I just-”

Warm lips were trailing down Goro’s neck, licking up singular freckles of blood that had splashed out of Shido. Hands were possessively wrapping around his waist, pulling him against a hard, waiting body and Goro acted on instinct. He grinded his ass back, feeling that hard cock beneath him and- God, he was so tired of waiting. He’d just killed the man he’d always dreamed of killing. Never again would Masayoshi Shido haunt him again. Never again would he hold back on what he really wanted. He turned around, grabbed Akira by the collar of his shirt and kissed him so hard, they both would’ve run out of breath, had they needed it.

They whirled around in vamp speed, crashing against a house wall not too far from Shido’s, still intertwined. Goro had a hand in his hair now, pulling, and Akira bit his lip in return.

Another whirl and they were against a new house wall, Akira pressing him against the stone and hastily grinding his knee against Goro’s aching crotch.

Goro felt his mind cloud over with lust. Craving blood was nothing against what he was feeling now - His whole body seemed to consist of only desire, his head was swimming, his entire vision narrowing down to the one thing he could think of.

So he did what every sensible vampire, who had just learned to not be afraid of what they craved, would do.

He sank to his knees and tore Akira’s pants off him.

“Hey,” Akira laughed. “I kinda still need tho-”

The end of that sentence got stuck in his throat and then came out as a deep moan, because Goro had without hesitation wrapped his lips around the hard cock before him, savoring the taste of it.

This might become his favorite taste next to blood, actually.

“Fuck, Goro…” Akira’s hands were in his hair, grabbing silky, honey-brown locks and tugging him deeper onto his cock, another moan escaping him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Obviously. The beauty of being part-vampire was just how excellent he was at sucking .

He pulled back a little, giving the cock in his face little kitten licks just to tease Akira and quickly found that hand in his hair tightening in an almost threatening manner that shouldn’t turn him on but did. He followed the tug and took Akira in to the hilt, watched him throw back his head when he looked up through heavily-lidded eyes and yes. This was easily the best way they could’ve celebrated their victory.

“Shit, the sun!”

Goro let out a surprised little “huh?” and tried to follow the tasty cock now slipping out of his mouth, his lips still hanging open as he looked up at Akira, wondering why he was being deprived of what he needed and then his words finally made it through his clouded mind.

Behind Akira, he could see the sun rising. Goro tried to stand up and found his legs wobbly with want and his mind hazy. Two strong hands grabbed him and then the world was a whirr, air being squeezed out of his lungs that he didn’t really need and suddenly, he couldn’t tell if it was minutes or seconds later, he found himself standing in Leblanc’s safe, cool attic. Funny, how the shabbiness barely bothered him anymore.

Akira was still standing there without his pants on, holding their shredded remains in his hands with a wistful look.

“I can’t believe you made me race through the town with no pants on,” he huffed, clearly fighting a laugh.

“No one saw. Get on the bed.”

He shoved Akira backwards until he fell onto the mattress, clearly laughing now as Goro sank back down to him, determined to start just where they had left off, but after the first suck,  Akira pulled him up instead, throwing him onto his stomach, spreading him out on the mattress.

“If you need it that badly, honey, I better give you the real thing.”

Goro couldn’t reply. He was grinding the mattress, the relief of finally having some friction on his cock leaving him breathless for a moment. Akira’s casual strength was just… he was just… so…

“Get on with it, then,” he spat, instead of articulating any of the needy thoughts filling his head.

Akira didn’t hesitate for long, his need clearly just as frantic as Goro’s. He repaid Goro by tearing off his pants with his vampire strength, then climbed on top of him. Nothing but heavy weight, cool skin and hard muscles dug into Goro, holding him down on the bed, wonderfully caging him in. He felt Akira rut against his ass without actually doing anything . Felt pre-cum and his own spit collect in the cleft of his ass.

“Akira,” he whimpered, then bit his tongue, then heard him moan and whimpered again, moving his ass against that cock he wanted so badly. “Stop teasing me.”

Akira, instead of responding - maybe he was running out of words just like Goro was - collected some of the bodily fluids between them on his fingers and thrusted in brutally. Goro mewled happily, fists clenched in the sheets so hard, they were beginning to tear.

“More, more, more…”

Akira added another finger to his thrusts.

“Like that, honey?”

“Not ‘nough. Need you. Just fucking get on with it.”

Akira kissed the back of his head, chuckling.

“You’re incredibly bossy for someone about to be fucked into the mattress.”

“If we could actually ever get to the fucking part. I’m half vampire, Akira, I’m not made of glass. Just take me already.”

“Well, since you’re offering so nicely,” Akira said and Goro could hear the smirk in his voice even without turning around.

Akira pulled back his fingers and for a moment, nothing happened. Just when he was about to turn around and drag the damn vampire into his ass personally, he felt a sharp thrust against his hole, felt it resist and then immediately wifey invitingly for the intrusion, sucking the cock it had craved in. He heard Akira gasp for unneeded air on top of him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he brought out with awe in his voice. “It’s like you’re made for this.”

Goro couldn’t really filter his words anymore, not when he felt so wonderfully stuffed full, the pressure on his hole and the weight on his back making his cock weep beneath him.

“Then fucking use me !” he yelled and apparently that did something to Akira, because within moments, he started a hard, vicious pace, thrusting into Goro so hard, the bed shook beneath them.

He’d never had vampire sex - he got it now, why so many people found it so addicting. He felt so thoroughly helpless, out of control, his thoughts hanging by a string that seemed to have the color of Akira’s eyes. All he could bring out was “yesyesyes” and “moremoremore”.

The attic was filled with grunts and moans and the sounds of a bed creaking, of flesh slapping against flesh. He tried to thrust back against Akira, meet him halfway, and found himself crashing against Akira’s thrusts like a wave against cliffs. His entire being was being shaken.

And then a hand crept between Goro and the mattress and squeezed his cock with a tight grip, sending almost electric arousal through Goro’s entire nerve endings. Sharp teeth dug into his neck, the pain making him see stars before it disappeared, was replaced by a silky tongue licking at the little holes before lips started sucking, turning his entire world upside down. It felt ridiculously good, made him squirm and whimper beneath Akira mindlessly. He’d known vampire’s saliva to be an aphrodisiac, but never in his wildest dream could he have imagined the fire that now seemed to spread through him, consuming him.

He came with a sob, feeling tears run down his cheeks, feeling blood being sucked out of him, feeling cum spurting out of his cock and onto the sheets, all over Akira’s hand.

“That’s right, honey. Give me your everything.”

For all his cockiness, when Akira finally pulled back to lick Goro’s blood off his lips, he sounded just as far gone as Goro, his voice hoarse and deep from desire. And his thrusts had grown irregular and frantic.

“Nononono, keep drinking,” Goro heard himself begging.

And Akira obliged. Attached himself to his neck again, thrusting deeply inside him as he leaned back down over Goro and, unsuspectedly, held out his wrist to Goro’s face.

“You too,” he said when Goro turned his head slightly with a silent question mark on his face.

Oh.

Oh .

Goro finally let go of the sheets and instead took Akira’s wrist gently into his, leading it to his mouth. He took a deep breath, nose pressed against the thin skin. He smelled… sweet. Not as sweet as human blood, sort of a hint of bitterness in its core - like dark chocolate, like coffee maybe. Good though.

He did have such a weak spot for coffee.

With a hiss, Goro let his teeth extend and bit down hard. The blood made his high even higher, made need and energy soar through him he had never known before, and Akira’s rich taste spread on his tongue slowly but wonderfully. Akira’s desperate desire and lust seemed to flow directly into him.

The soothing lips were on his neck again, drinking while Goro drank, dizzy and hard again. He grabbed his own cock with one hand, never letting his lips stop sucking in Akira’s perfect blood, and started easing some of the painful arousal with irregular jerks.

Behind him, Akira’s thrusts had turned slow and sensual, the franticness replaced by pure pleasure. Goro could tell he was close, could feel it somewhere deep in his soul, in his bloodstream, intertwined with Akira’s.

And then he came again, completely dry, screaming Akira’s name in his mind, into both their minds, still drinking and Akira finally followed right after with one last hard thrust, so much hot cum filling Goro up that he could feel it flow out of his hole at the sides, pushed out from the still twitching cock inside of him.

Akira took one last, deep suck, then closed the wound off with a lick of his tongue and Goro quickly followed his example, already missing the rich taste. He supposed there’d be many more chances to do this, all things considered.

He had never in his life trusted good things coming to him. But lying here, entirely fucked, his brains splashed somewhere on the floor and Akira’s weight on him, as he had only half-rolled off, his arms tiredly wrapped around Goro as he held him, he found himself believing for the first time. In Akira, in a better future ahead of him.

And then a disgruntled, familiar male voice from below them called, “you might want to go into the bathhouse before my first customers come, and wash yourselves up. You’re on shift today.”

Akira’s eyes shot open in shock and he was sitting upright within a moment.

“He is never going to let me live this down,” he whined and Goro laughed. A little hysterically, maybe, but he just couldn’t help it. This powerful, dark, fearless vampire, being bossed around by a human. How fucking adorable. He couldn’t help it - he sat up and pressed a - comparably - chaste little kiss to his lips, then another, just to enjoy the taste of Akira mixed with blood.

“You’ll introduce us, right?” Goro asked innocently as he finally pulled back. “I mean, I already met him but properly . As your partner.”

“What?” Akira’s voice was a high squeak. “ Now ? After what he just heard?”

“I’ve recently dropped every ounce of shame I ever possessed and it’s your fault,” Goro grinned as he jumped off Akira’s bed and started rummaging in his wardrobe for fresh pants. “You met my father - time to return the favor.”

Akira hid his red face in his arms, grunting dully instead of making any move to get off the bed.

“What have I created?”

And from below, Sojiro’s voice cheerfully called, “Tomorrow we’ll go out and find you someone who can install a door. And maybe some carpets. I would’ve offered a second bed for your roommate, but it doesn’t sound like he needs one.”

Goro looked down at the clearly improvised bed they had just fucked on, stacked up (and now considerably out of place and a little wrecked) on milk crates.

“Oh, actually, Sakura-san,” he called back cheerfully, enticing another embarrassed groan out of Akira. ”I think I just might.”

“Weeks after the Prime Minister candidate Masayoshi Shido has been found dead in his front yard, the police have announced that their investigations are currently going slowly, with no leads.”

“All we know is that it was a vampire attack. After all the things that have come to light about Shido since Goro Akechi spoke up, it could’ve been anyone. He had countless of them illegally murdered. Extorted and blackmailed others over their identities. More and more stories come to light daily, now that vampires won’t have to fear his retaliation. The internet is full of them. Someone held a grudge, no doubt, and finally took him down. We’re mostly surprised it took this long. We could even confirm rumors that the recent vampire attacks perpetrated on humans were all staged by him.”

“The general public seems to widely celebrate the murder, speaking of justice for Masayoshi Shido’s countless crimes, a majority of which we are currently still uncovering.

Goro Akechi, the young detective who has recently laid down his position, and as it turns out, son of Masayoshi Shido, showed himself dejected.

“I wanted him to meet justice. Pay for his crimes the way the legal system intends for criminals to pay. I deserved closure. I deserved a trial. I deserved to see if he’d show any remorse. And so did my mother.”

“The ex detective has declined any further comment since.

Various voices in the public and in politics have voiced their concern over the way vampires are being talked about and are calling for better treatment and the return of equal rights.

“We need to have a serious conversation about-”

Goro was maybe only a half-vampire, but he was fierce, so when he finally managed to conquer the remote from a mouthy, large vampire to turn off the Leblanc TV, he let out a victory cry.

But it was already too late.

“I deserved closure,” whined Ryuji, distorting his voice and Goro knew for a fact he didn’t sound like that at all, even as Haru giggled and claimed it sounded exactly like him. “I deserved a trial.”

“We all agreed I had to go public and show regrets,” he snarled at Ryuji. “I would’ve loved to see you lying like that. It’s a miracle your entire street hasn’t turned you in for being a Phantom yet, with your level of secret-keeping skills.”

“I wanted him to meet justice,” Ryuji cited a little louder now and Goro couldn’t help smirking at him in reply.

“Not technically a lie. I just had another idea of justice than they have.”

“The rest is flat-out lying, though,” Yusuke pointed out. “So I’m not sure how much it matters.”

“No, it’s not,” Goro said defensively, finally sitting back down on his spot next to Akira, snuggling against his chest. I got closure. And he got his trial. It just happened to have me as judge and jury.”

“So what do you plan to do now that you’re officially resigned?” Makoto asked, politely returning the conversation away from mocking Goro.

Bless her, she really had her moments.

Goro shrugged.

“Whatever I want. I never really thought about a life post-Shido. Or a life at all. I’ll have to figure it out as I go, I suppose.” He looked into the round. “You’ll have my back, though, right?”

It was lovely, watching everyone cheerfully assure him that they did. A beautiful, undisturbed moment of belonging and peace that–

“You know I’ll always have your backside, honey, all you have to do is ask.”

– was efficiently ruined by Akira Kurusu being unbearable.

Everyone on the table groaned, and in the middle sat Akira, grinning like an idiot.

Goro’s idiot.