Archive of Our Own ^beta

Akira had tried to pass it off as a little joke when he selected only his male team members for training today. Boy’s day out and all, just some good old-fashioned bonding the only way society seems to think they know how: by beating up baddies together. Or, well, shadows in Mementos in this case. The others had agreed, although Ann had rolled her eyes while Futaba cracked a snide little remark about how they weren’t just lacking a navi, but also a healer like this. Self-sabotaging toxic masculinity and all that, and also, Morgana technically counted as a boy. Knowing he had an array of personas at his side able to take care of anything in a flash, Akira had waved it all off.

In truth, this had nothing to do with wanting to voluntarily be stuck in a team of Ryuji, Akechi and Yusuke only, given how the special quirks of each of them did the opposite of harmonising and rather made for a bunch of toddlers fighting each other for Akira to take care of. Akira would have never under normal circumstances left Ann’s arsenal of status effects for crowd control or Makoto’s levelheadedness for team unity at home.

It was just that his female team members were a little too overpowered by now, breezing through waves of shadows with such passion Ryuji and Yusuke would just awkwardly trail behind the force that was them, leading to a wide margin in experience he’d been wanting to even out for quite some time. And Akechi, well. It was less that Akechi couldn’t hold himself if push came to shove—Akira knows about his little side identity by now—and more that he’s pretty sure that he would take it personally if he wasn’t appointed his right hand man every mission. Something something rivals and equals and fated to be together and so much more. Akira digs it, so he’s got no grounds for complaint.

So that’s where they’re finding themselves today. In the underbelly of Shibuya, humanity’s rotten desires manifested in pulsating red veins covered in tar black ooze that occasionally drips down enough to form demons roaring and charging at them with only the goal in mind to keep them here, dead or alive, preferably the former. Akira doesn’t even flinch at ambushes anymore by now, but it’s clear from how Ryuji jumps every time that he’s had good reason for bringing them here.

“Whoa— whoaaaaa! What the heck is that!”

It’s admittedly a little cute, but someone else doesn’t seem to think so. Akechi grits his teeth as he draws his weapon and slices the dark mass in front of them just as Akira sends it reeling back with a well-aimed bullet. As it transforms, Akechi breaks his focus on it for just a split second to shoot Ryuji the most pissed look he can muster up.

“A mere incubus, Skull.” His voice is dripping sickly sweet venom. “Which you would know had you reacted instead of hiding behind Fox like a coward—”

He’s hit square in the chest by a sudden attack from the demon, and admittedly, seeing him take a hit for once is gratifying enough that Akira can’t even regret not having intervened in time, watching Akechi be shot across the room.

“Everyone, spread out and attack!” he commands, motioning for a confused Ryuji and a daydreaming Yusuke to split up. They finally snap out of it to do so and Akira is glad when he sees both of them lunge at the demon from different angles while Akechi recovers. He’s seething visibly, enough cracks in his perfectly unbothered smile for Akira to decide to leave him basking in the rage of shame for now and run to Yusuke’s side.

“Fox, you freeze it, I burn it, how about it?” He shoots him a grin.

A hand on his blade, Yusuke’s calm features light up with interest. “It would be my pleasure, Joker,” he says, looking at him with so much intensity Akira is glad they’re in combat where he can just give him a nod and charge ahead instead of tackling just why this attention is making him flush so much.

Look, he knows by now that he’s a little bit in love with all his team members, but how could he not be? He sees the sides of them they don’t show anyone else, has accompanied them all through moments and situations that made them grow and become more compassionate people than he’s met them as. Akira doesn’t think much about choosing someone to focus his own efforts on for now, too much still being at stake. That, and he enjoys spreading out his attention, getting to know so many people in so many ways. Experiencing so much.

Admittedly the experiences could be better than whatever’s happening right now, which is a lot in a span of only a few seconds, but can be summarised pretty well with the following admission: Akira should have indeed acted his age and thought about fighting instead of pretty boys. Then he would have slayed the demon before it called for backup, would have been prepared for the two other incubi appearing out of nowhere, claws raised high to attack them.

So it goes like this: The three demons all go for the leader, lunging at him with purple-glowing claws, and while Akira is firing a well-timed counter spell at them, he only gets a “watch out!” as a warning before he suddenly gets tackled from three different sides by three different boys who are trying to protect him without taking into account that their protective feelings are shared between them—or that he doesn’t even need them.

They tumble down in a messy pile of limbs and weapons as not just the force of each other, but also the demons’ spells hit them, Akira’s arms instinctively darting out to catch whoever’s shielding him from the front as they fall. There’s groans of pain all around him, and while he appreciates that he got a rather soft fall, Akechi behind him doesn’t sound like a fan as a low growl rumbles out of him. It almost sounds like an insult, which is a drastic enough change given that Akechi prefers to curse with eloquent enough and just barely polite descriptions of one’s shortcomings instead. Yusuke seems to be somewhere on his side, seemingly taking it in stride. Ryuji is the first to try and peel himself out of the pile rather roughly.

“Maaan, my ass hurts!” he groans, pushing himself up with not much success. “Did’ya have to hit like that?!”

“Well, if you hadn’t charged ahead like a particularly brainless bull, Skull,” Akechi hisses and shoves them all off him with uncharacteristic strength and venom, leading to Akira stumbling and rolling over Yusuke, landing right in a confused Ryuji’s lap.

“Hey,” he cracks a grin at the boy below him. “What hurts again? Want me to kiss it better?”

It’s his usual teasing to fluster Ryuji, but for some reason, he’s less quick to retort this time. Instead his lips tremble, parting to say something, then silently closing again as the heat rushes to his cheeks. Huh, Akira thinks. Cute.

“Dude, shut up,” Ryuji finally mumbles, shoving Akira out of the way to get up. Akira shrugs it off and turns his attention back to the demons, surprised when he sees Akechi and Yusuke deliver the final blow to the last one, movements synchronised in a way that lets him dare to hope again.

“An incredibly underwhelming performance,” Akechi mumbles and Akira realises he’s still expecting too much of them. Those demons were of a lower level as well... Either one of the girls could have wiped them out in one strike.

“Good job, team,” he nevertheless praises them as he pushes himself up at last. “And thank you all for taking that hit, although you were a little… too eager there.”

“Well, what if you had gotten hurt!?” Ryuji shouts, stomping over, expression softening as he looks at Akira. “I can’t have ya die on me, man,” he mumbles. Akira’s heart shoots into his throat at once, beating rapidly.

“It was just an incubus—”

“Skull is right. The thought of our dear leader coming to harm…” Yusuke puts a hand to his forehead dramatically, then clutches his chest. “Oh, how I can’t bear it! It’s like an ache in my soul to think of him retaining even a single scratch I could have prevented…”

“Guys, it’s okay.” Akira plays with his hair in embarrassment, not used to them fawning over him so much. Not used to them talking like this in general! What’s wrong with them? Did he take an almost-lethal hit recently and forgot about it, or why are they acting like the slightest breeze could knock him over?

It’s Akechi huffing that cuts through the moment, disdain barely concealed with sticky honey as always. “If you’re done being so passionately concerned about our leader, I’d appreciate it if we could keep moving, as touching as your display of affection is.”

Annoyed mumbles and groans, but they scatter indeed and Akira is happy enough to have the attention off of him, as much as he basks in it. Akechi seems to give him a bit more credit at least, which is welcomed, although Akira knows by now what his jealousy looks like.

Which is why he’s not even surprised when Akechi trails behind with him once they get moving, walking closer to him and… taking his hand?! Okay, no, he’s not just surprised, but outright shocked.

“Crow…?”

He looks at him intently, squeezes his hand slightly. More contact than he’s ever initiated before. “Are you sure you’re alright, Joker? Did you get hit earlier?”

His voice is smooth silk wrapping around him like barely hidden wire, but the concern in it is real and Akira recognises that this is not a farce. Under the mask, Akechi’s eyes shine with a weird, new kind of worry and something about it reminds Akira of the look Ryuji had given him just now. Not that he wants to compare them! This is just… strange, is all, and when Akechi brings his gloved hand up under his mask to press the ghost of a hand kiss to it, Akira is done for completely.

He’s still staring at Akechi’s lips curving into a little smile when it occurs to him that he should probably say something.

“I’m fine, Crow, but what about you? You seem a little off.”

“You don’t look fine to me.” Not dropping his hand, Akechi brushes the other one against his forehead as if he could feel his temperature through the glove, stepping a bit in. Akira has never been more glad for that ridiculous beak of his mask, since it’s saving him from the emotions of being even closer now. “How about we look for a safe spot and take care of you?” Akechi mumbles. “If anything were to happen to you…”

“I agree,” Yusuke cuts in before Akira can say anything, suddenly at their side, two fingers taking Akira’s chin between them and turning his face to him. “Ah, you look quite in need of aid indeed. Very well, it shall be my pleasure to make sure you are well taken care of.”

This close, the height difference between him and Yusuke really is noticeable and the way he holds him doesn’t help. Cloudy eyes hold hints of a storm in them that almost sucks him in with its hidden intensity. Everything is a little too much. It’s not like Akechi let go of him either, still looking at him too, and he can just imagine the jealous look in his eyes at Yusuke stealing his attention. Akira doesn’t think he can be even more flustered at this point.

He’s proven wrong just the next moment when hands clamp on his shoulders in a vaguely familiar way, making him jolt and let out a little yelp as Ryuji starts kneading his back.

“Look at you man, all stiff and hard,” Ryuji remarks with a sigh. Akira knows if this keeps up, it won’t take him much more to truly get there in the worst way he could be. “If you’re not in top shape, those damn shadows are gonna have it easy to get a piece of you, ya know?”

“Guys, this is kinda… a lot,” Akira croaks out, rapidly melting enough to be too weak to truly get out of this weird three-sided sandwich of teammate affection.

“Then we should have you rest a while once we make it to the end of this layer,” Yusuke suggests, completely missing the point.

“Heck yeah, could use the break.”

They look to Akechi as if his approval is the only one missing and not Akira’s, the boy in question staring from one to the other and then at Akira with furrowed eyebrows, just shy of being irritated. Is it bothering him how close the others are? It’s bothering him.

“I.. agree.”

Akira blinks, unsure if he heard right, but Akechi’s features indeed soften for a moment before he puts on his practised little smile again. “Let us leave, then. The sooner we go, the better.”

It’s better than thinly veiled aggression, Akira supposes. Ryuji gives him a final clap on the shoulder, Yusuke taking his other arm, and that’s how he makes his way through Mementos for the next few minutes. Flanked by pretty boys on every side that take turns “supporting” him even though he’s perfectly fine. It’s ironic how he’s achieved his goal in part: they are for once working together without fighting. He’s guessing the cost of it is being rendered a blushing and confused mess and probably having wet dreams about this for the foreseeable future.

Right. Something about this doesn’t seem correct. While they all look out for each other, never has it been so much unnecessary care at once for him. Him, the leader. It’s a little embarrassing, as nice as it feels to get all this attention.

They arrive in a little safe room, or at least the Mementos equivalent of it, which is a traditional public transport waiting booth. Akira finally wrangles himself free and collapses in one of the hard plastic seats, watching Ryuji slump next to him while Yusuke and Akechi opt for simply standing in front of them.

Something’s off about the way they’re acting and he’s only noticing it now. Yusuke’s chest is rising and falling a bit more rapidly than the walk down the still escalator should warrant and Akechi is restless on his feet. Are they trying to hide an affliction? Did they get hit harder than he assumed earlier? Akira supposes he should do a quick check of their vitals and perform some curing spells now that they’re here. Yet before he can rip off his mask and perform the standard Amrita Shower, Yusuke is suddenly standing in his field and takes it off gently.

“You won’t be needing this while we take care of you,” he mumbles.

Akira swallows hard, feeling terribly exposed without a mask or glasses. “Taking care of me? You guys are acting kinda strange. What’s going on? Any surprises I’m unaware of?”

Suddenly he’s pulled back and lying across the seats, a warm weight at his back. “Just relax, dude,” he hears Ryuji mumbling, shivering as he feels his voice right beside his ear. His hands fall down from his shoulders to hug his frame, pulling at his coat. “That thing’s in the way.”

For someone who’s used to giving orders, he follows this one quite easily, letting Ryuji take his coat off while being baffled to hell and back. Do they think it’s his birthday and are planning an impromptu spa day in Mementos of all places or something? But that still doesn’t explain why they are acting off. He didn’t think Ryuji was the cuddly type with how often he complained about things feeling kinda weird between them, for his own lack of a better word.

With his mask off, there’s only one thing left he can do. Just as Akechi steps in front of him and tentatively starts carding his fingers through his hair with a way-too intense look in his eyes, Akira activates his third eye. And oh—

To his credit, Akechi looks good in pink.

A quick glance at Yusuke who’s sitting down next to him and Ryuji’s hands on his body currently getting a bit too adventurous with the buttons of his vest reveals the same: a bright pink aura glowing around everyone sans Akira.

Akira could hit himself for this oversight. They got hit square in the chest by incubus attacks; of course they would be afflicted with lust.

Lust that’s manifesting in them fixating on keeping him safe and making him feel good. In them working together for once to now manoeuvre him so his legs are across Yusuke’s lap while he’s leaning back against Ryuji’s chest, Akechi now taking over to pop open the buttons of his vest with skill Ryuji could only dream of having. As heated and hurried as it is, it’s all strangely sweet, but that still doesn’t mask what it does to them, what exactly it makes them crave.

They want him. Instead of jumping the nearest human or demon in sight for relief, they immediately decided it’s gotta be Akira. He feels hot with the realisation.

Something’s gonna happen if he doesn’t intervene. And yet, as he feels Ryuji’s hot breath on his neck as he noses up his throat, feels Yusuke’s hand rubbing up and down his thigh soothingly, feels Akechi’s fingers brush over every sliver of newly exposed skin as his vest slowly gets peeled away—

Fuck. He’s rock hard already and at the same time feeling too weak everywhere else in his body to truly fight this with just how good it feels. He— he can’t do this, though, can’t just lie back and whimper and focus on nothing but the way they’re touching him, the way Ryuji lets out a little chuckle against his neck that has his skin prickle. He has to do something. Like reach for his mask and fix this and then pretend none of this ever happened—

Akechi’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist tightly, leaning down to be on eye level with him.

“You don’t need that right now, Joker” he purrs, his smile sharp enough to cut glass, so different to the one he usually has on his face. “Why would you want to hide behind your mask anyway? Don’t tell me you’re too afraid to show your true self now...”

Akira knows there’s no hiding anyway with how on display the bulge in his pants is for all three of them, yet he swallows harshly and looks away anyway. “That’s not it, I’m just trying to help you guys since you obviously got hit with something—”

His chin gets turned to the side and he’s staring into Ryuji’s hazelnut brown eyes next. His skull mask is off, nothing separating them except for a breath that makes Akira’s heart beat faster.

“Don’t know about you, dude, but I feel really damn fine,” Ryuji smirks, his eyes dropping down to Akira’s lips for a moment with clear intent. “Could feel even better, actually…” he mumbles, leaning in slowly enough that Akira could turn away. He should. He can’t. Every cell in his body is frozen with desire for this. Ryuji even stops halfway as if giving Akira silently the choice which honestly, he might just take since he can’t think past wanting this just as much—

His head gets yanked back abruptly towards Akechi and Akira has only a split second to realise that someone’s jealous as he clumsily tries smashing his lips to his. Only that they land on the corner of his mouth instead as Ryuji’s meet his cheek, both their heads bumping.

He’s gonna die from this. Yeah. No revival bead is gonna help him here.

“Ouch! Dude, knock it off!” Ryuji protests, the sweet and gentle tone voice just now replaced by his usual borderline annoyed tone.

“What am I supposed to do if you act in stupid ways?” Akechi snaps back at him. He’s taken his mask off by now, but the way he turns redder by the second makes no difference in colour anyway.

“I don’t know, maybe stop being a jealous ass and let me kiss him!”

“Without even asking Joker? Why should I give you the privilege of this first kiss?”

“Dude, you were way worse about it, I laid it on thick at least and waited!”

All this fighting just for a kiss. He couldn’t blush harder even if he wanted to. Akira watches in both fascination and mortification how they shoot daggers back and forth with both their eyes and their words, unable to do anything to stop the argument.

At least until once again a touch brings him out of it, yet this time it’s a squeeze of his hand. Gentle and asking where the others were too impatient with it.

Akira turns his head to Yusuke. The other looks a little nervous, at least as much as Akira is feeling himself. He looks at him for a moment, opens his mouth, then abandons his thought and looks away in embarrassment. Akira is just about to try and deescalate the situation again when he whips back up and looks at him with enough confidence to last days.

“May I kiss you instead, Joker?”

He’s so cute about it, Akira can’t even try and tell him no because of it being a spell he should really try to cure by now. What’s just one kiss if he asks so sweetly for it? If Akira has thought of what it would feel like to kiss Yusuke for months now?

So instead he leans forward before Yusuke has a chance to prepare for it, exhaling in bliss as he fits his lips to his and swallows a surprised gasp with the act. Yusuke melts against him beautifully, kissing him back tentatively, as if he’s accepting an invitation to dance without having figured out the steps yet. It’s sweet and slow, making his heart beat quickly and his hands shaky where he’s holding Yusuke’s shoulders. Despite all that, he feels a strange kind of calm, though.

And finally, he hears both Ryuji and Akechi let out downright terrified noises, noises which only make him grin into the kiss and tilt his head to connect him and Yusuke deeper. This was worth it, yeah. Showing them as well as being a little selfish and fulfilling a fantasy he’s been carrying for too long. He’ll separate them now and then get his mask and snap them out of it—

A low growl and he’s abruptly pulled away from Yusuke and towards Akechi, and before he has a chance to react, their lips and teeth clash messily. Akechi doesn’t waste any time before pulling him in tightly, possessively, making Akira whimper helplessly into the kiss as he’s being devoured in the most literal of ways. He thinks he can distantly hear Yusuke remark how rude pulling Akira from him was, but Akechi’s smug little chuckle exhaling a hot breath against him makes him lose all capacity to concentrate on anything else.

Holy shit. Wow. He knew the other had pent-up frustrations about their rivalry and all that, but he’s never really thought about that translating to Akechi losing himself like this. Where Yusuke felt safe and warm, Akechi’s kiss is all hard edges and danger, and Akira loves it just as much.

Someone else’s hand cards into his hair a little roughly at that, making him shiver hard from the dual sensations. As contrasting as they are, both still render him too weak to do anything but submit to this, moaning into the kiss in bliss.

“C’mon, don’t hog him for yourself,” he hears Ryuji mumble, right next to him, telling him who’s buttering up to him with those clumsy but affectionate brushes through his locks.

Akechi, to his surprise, does separate himself from him at that. Maybe he needs a break to breathe and take this all in—he certainly looks the part, flushed and panting.

A bright smile, sharp at the edges. “Please, I’d like to see you do better than this,” he chirps.

Ryuji just groans, shoving himself in front of Akira. “Dude, you can’t go around kissing all of them and not giving me a piece too. Thought we were bros?” he whines. Akira is past the point of being shell-shocked to hear such words leave his friends’ lips, especially coupled with his… usual attitude.

“Hey, in my defence, you guys wanted to kiss me first,” he protests, stumbling over his words as he does so. Fuck, he probably looks even worse than Akechi, red and embarrassed in the face. Ryuji inching closer and casting tentative glances down at his lips doesn’t make it better.

Akira kisses him just so he doesn’t have to feel the thrill of the anticipation anymore.

Ryuji lets out the smallest sound of surprise. Akira kisses him hard before realising that despite his desire for this, Ryuji might still be a bit too caught off-guard to reciprocate. Or what if this is his first kiss he’s stealing right now? Akira leans back a little, brushes their noses together affectionately, then tilts his head and fits his lips to Ryuji’s again. Softer this time. Gentler.

That seems to do the trick as Ryuji finally relaxes and puts his hands on Akira’s shoulders, tilting his head as well and kissing him back. It fits right into Akira’s countless daydreams about him being the romantic type, the one who’s feeling a bit too much and who wants to show it. He even smiles into the kiss when Akira bumps his nose against his on purpose. Akira is in heaven.

Then Ryuji delivers the most gentle bite to his bottom lip, grinning into the kiss as it makes Akira part his lips in a surprised gasp, and when he pushes into his mouth to feel him deeper, Akira dies a million deaths once more. He doesn’t even have the capacity to do anything but fist his hands into the collar of Ryuji’s jacket, especially not when there’s a touch to his neck that makes him shudder.

“Forgive me, Joker, but I can’t stand being away from you for too long,” Yusuke mumbles so close to his ear, then starts placing little kisses all over his exposed neck, brushing his half-opened vest back for more access. Akira shivers through it, turned on like never before from the dual attention. Ryuji doesn’t even seem to mind as he kisses him more, tongue pushing against his playfully. Akira pulls him in at the lapels and finally starts kissing back properly.

This should all be so wrong. They’re still under a spell, after all. Still… if they’re afflicted with lust, why go only for him and not jump anyone and anything coming their way? Why is it only amplifying their usual care, as if there’s more to it? God, Akira can’t think about this now lest he wants to lose his mind even more.

It’s so hard finding the strength to end this. He doesn’t want it to.

Yusuke’s tongue brushes against his skin, his lips closing around a spot lower on his neck and sucking on it, making him whimper into Ryuji’s mouth. A hand that could belong to either of them curiously brushes down his exposed chest, ghosting over his nipple, hesitating briefly when it makes Akira jolt, but then starting to play with it. At the same time, Ryuji breaks away after a final bite to his lip, staring at him with blown eyes before kissing his cheeks next. Akira can’t catch his breath for long before Akechi fills the spot and kisses him again, this time a bit more composed, enough to imitate Ryuji and kiss him with tongue too. It’s still messy and wet, so different to how Akechi presents himself to others. Akira wants to explore what all three of them are revealing glimpses of to him right now. Figure out their true selves. It’s only fair if they are not letting him put on his mask again either, right?

They shift positions again. Someone’s picking up the task again of unbuttoning his vest, taking it off completely. There’s the clatter of the rest of their masks falling. Ryuji kisses him again as soon as Akechi takes a breath, then Yusuke, then Akechi again. A hand strokes up his inner thigh, making Akira moan and spread his legs before he can think about it. He receives a little brush over his clothed erection as a reward, then deft fingers start opening his pants, and yeah, okay.

Akira is starting to break now.

He wants this too much to cling to being the righteous leader who can always keep a level head. And isn’t that exactly what they wanted when they guided him here? For him to let go for once and have them take care of him? They touch him without waiting for his input, taking what they crave from him, yet they do so with care and affection under all the haste and burning. Every touch, every kiss, it’s clear they’re giving them to him to make him feel good more than they crave their own relief from the spell.

It’s making him terribly emotional and stupid enough to beg them for more with his lips seeking the next person to kiss him, his hands pulling in whoever’s closest to him, his legs falling apart to allow them any touch they want. His chest shivers from being exposed to the chilly Mementos air, but warm hands—bare hands without any gloves they usually all wear—keep the cold at bay with their hot, exploring touches. Seeking out the spots where he’s sensitive and then some more. He’s losing his mind.

His pants get yanked at, not budging much due to him sitting, the force of it enough by now to have him recognise the person working on getting them off as Akechi. He opens his eyes and stops kissing Yusuke for a moment to look down at what’s happening. Ryuji is placing kisses on his bare chest while Akechi is between his legs as if he belongs there, hands—still gloved while the others’ aren’t—fisted in his pants and looking up at him with mild amusement.

“If you want more, Joker, I’ll have to ask for your cooperation here.”

He swallows hard, shivers when Yusuke tenderly places a kiss under his eye and smiles against his skin. “I can’t wait to touch you completely,” he mumbles, hand adoringly cupping his face. “You’re a work of art, Joker, one you ought to reveal to us completely if you want us to appreciate it in its fullness. Unless… you don’t want that.”

Of course he wants this. Who could resist such flowery praise and adoring touches? Akira doesn’t think he’s ever been the recipient of compliments so intense. His life so far has only been a series of events that taught him he had to stay in the shadows lest he wanted to risk it all, that the attention he so desperately craved would just be his downfall. Technically it’s still true. This is a risk he can’t assess properly in his current state, attention offered to him on a silver platter together with reassurances that he deserves this. This could change everything he’s worked for and take it away forever.

But… if his suspicion is correct, as much as he can think about things while three sets of hands and lips are appreciating and claiming his body, then he won’t have to fear much but a little bit of awkwardness they can work out. Akira can become the leader holding the team together when the time comes. For now… for now he wants this. More than he’s ever wanted anything, probably.

He holds onto the seat with one of his hands while the other finds support on Ryuji’s shoulder, pushing himself up the slightest bit so his pants can be slid off with ease. “C’mon, get them off already, I wanna save the flexibility for the more important things,” he purrs, finding his confidence again now that he’s made his mind up about this.

After so long of experiencing them take what they want without shame, seeing Akechi flush brightly and fumble through pulling at his pants is a surprise like no other. It’s fitting, though. They’re still shy and inexperienced in the end and probably not used to Akira flirting with them in these contexts.

“My, Joker, you’re certainly… eager all of a sudden…”

Ryuji scoffs and bats Akechi’s hands away despite protest. “Dude, you’re taking way too long, he’s not gonna wait forever.” He pulls his pants off swiftly, but at least mercifully leaves him his underwear for now.

“Feeling shy now, Crow?” Akira chirps. It earns him a scoff and a scowl that stays for exactly a millisecond before Akechi covers it up with a cheery smile.

“What can I say? Your change in demeanour caught me quite off-guard.”

He chuckles, feeling a bit lighter about this whole thing now that he’s made up his mind. “Don’t blame me. It’s hard to think with three hot guys showering you in attention.”

As if to make a point, Ryuji rubs at him through his underwear then, making him bite his lip to stifle a moan. After all the generous foreplay—right, that’s what this is by now, foreplay—any touch to his neglected cock makes molten heat rush up his spine.

“We haven’t even started yet,” Yusuke smiles, resting his head against Akira’s shoulder and kissing where he can reach. His neck, his collarbones, his shoulder blade. “You fall apart more beautifully than I could have ever imagined, Joker.”

“Wait, you guys imagined this—”

He can’t cling to the thought as Ryuji promptly rubs at him harder, figuring out more and more how to touch him the right way so he loses his mind over it. Looking back at him reveals a rather smug smile on his face.

“Yeah? You were saying?” he asks, getting cocky with it, probably knowing that he’s got all the power now to render Akira an incoherent mess under the palm of his hand, the little circles he’s rubbing into him a steady motion that quickly makes him rise to full hardness.

Akira throws his head to the side from the sensations, squeezes his eyes shut from pleasure, tries to cling to any rational thought to not cum in his pants from the smallest touches already. At least one sticks out enough for him to be able to verbalise it.

“Wait, before we do this, do you guys even want this?” he pants out, looking between all three of them back and forth as much as his position allows it. “To… to go further?”

Ryuji luckily stills for a second, if only to stare weirdly at him. Yusuke keeps quiet as well, his arms still around Akira’s torso. It’s Akechi who lets out a little laugh after a few moments of silence.

“Oh, Joker,” he purrs. “We did nothing so far but fall over you like hungry hyenas and you still have the guts to insinuate we don’t want this? My, I would almost take it as an insult if not for knowing about how terribly concerned you tend to get.”

“That’s not it!” he protests. “It’s just, you three are still under that spell, and…”

Akechi grips his chin tightly, makes him look up into burning maroon eyes. His lips curl into a smirk Akira has never seen before, bold and almost dangerous. Promising.

“Which is why you should be a good leader and help us fuck it out of our systems.”

Plans to escape his future betrayal be damned, Akira is sure he will die by Akechi’s hand after all and not in any way he could have ever imagined before this. He shakes in his grasp, cock straining against his underwear, and fuck. He wants it so bad. Maybe he’s actually the one who got hit with the ailment.

A startled moan gets ripped from him again as Ryuji resumes his rubbing just as Akechi sinks into the seat beside him to immediately drag him into a searing kiss and roam his chest with his hands, gripping his waist possessively. He feels rather than sees Yusuke hesitate now that Akechi is all up in his space, breaking the kiss for a moment to address him.

“Take those off.” He lets his hand drop to Yusuke’s thigh, pulling at the hem of his pants with a smirk. “I wanna make you feel good too.”

Yusuke looks at him in embarrassment while Akechi huffs. “Eyes on me, Joker.”

He does as told for a single moment, if only so he can stick his tongue out at him. “Make me.”

He expects a thinly-veiled insult at most and not Akechi immediately shoving him down by the shoulders so he’s laying sideways over the seats, swinging a leg over Akira’s hips to fit his body to his, soft fabric and cold metal buttons of his attire against his hot skin. Akechi leans down to nose up his throat, keeping his head down with a hand gripping his hair so he has better access. “I sure hope you have nowhere to be tomorrow,” he chuckles, then Akira feels teeth sink into the flesh of his neck, making him cry out and thrust up against nothing. Right, the friction against his cock is gone now that they changed positions.

“Dude, I was kinda busy here,” Ryuji mumbles with a pout. Luckily he decides to get back to what he was doing. Akira raises his legs so he can sit down to have them in his lap, immediately regretting it when he feels his hands roam up the inside of his thighs. Together with Akechi practically mauling the next spot on his neck, sucking on his skin so it’s sure to add to Yusuke’s hickeys with bite marks as well, it’s a few too many sensations to concentrate on at once.

He throws his head to the side at another jolt of pain and pleasure and is met with Yusuke’s crotch, his hands uncertainly opening the buttons on his pants. Akira looks up at him hungrily, reaching out a hand to touch the bulge in his pants teasingly. “No need to be shy,” he says, voice breathy.

Yusuke sucks in a sharp breath of air, hands getting shaky before he just decides to quickly pull his pants off, looking away in shame as his cock springs into view. It’s… longer than expected, prettily pink and veiny. Akira wants to touch it so badly and do even worse things to it.

He feels his cheeks flush at how obscene he feels, lying down like this with Yusuke’s cock in his face while the other two have long since stopped doing this as foreplay and are doing it entirely for his reactions. Just as Akechi’s lips close around a nipple and suck, Ryuji pulls at his underwear. His moan is so obscene Akira knows he needs to shut his mouth soon lest he wants to alert all of Mementos to what’s going on with his noises.

“Come here,” he breathes out, pulling a shy Yusuke in around his legs, parting his lips invitingly. Yusuke looks down at him unsurely, but whatever hesitation is in his gaze, it soon gets replaced by utter arousal as he takes hold of his cock to guide it to Akira’s mouth. Closing his lips around him, Akira spends just a small moment appreciating the feel of it in his mouth before taking him further down, coaxing Yusuke to start thrusting.

They get a slow pace going that’s still enough to overwhelm them both. Yusuke is big enough that Akira takes it slow and gets used to him, but he makes up for it by hollowing his cheeks and sucking at him every so often, at least enough each time to hear a little groan fall from his lips. The pace gets interrupted as Akira feels his own underwear being taken off and Ryuji’s fingers closing around his length immediately, Akira shuddering around the cock in his mouth. Ryuji starts pumping him quickly, too quickly, making Akira’s hips jolt up as he whines. Yusuke luckily does not stop fucking his mouth, the sounds coming from him indicating he’s less careful with it the more aroused he gets.

Throughout it all, Akira almost misses how Akechi sits up, idly playing with a nipple by flicking it with his fingers. He manages to open his eyes, teary as they are, to look to the side and Akechi.

Where he expects raw jealousy, there’s only hunger in his gaze, though, and before Akira knows it, he starts unbuckling his pants as well.

“This is not the most ideal position, but I suppose it doesn’t matter with how eager for a cock you seem to be,” he says almost derogatorily, yet still dripping with sweetness. Akechi shuffles forward as best as he can, then simply gets off Akira in favour of joining Yusuke next to his mouth. The boy in question doesn’t seem to mind, making a bit of space while still keeping his cock in Akira’s mouth so he can keep thrusting into the heat of it.

Idly, Akira thinks about how despite all, he achieved his goal: they are finally working together. Then Akechi’s hard cock is in his face, pushing against his cheek and leaving a trail of pre across it as if marking him. He shudders, looking at it with blown eyes. Akechi’s dick isn’t as long as Yusuke’s, but it's got a nice curve to it. Akira can’t wait to feel in his mouth.

He wasn’t initially gonna stop pleasuring Yusuke for this, but he can’t hold back and pops off his cock in favour of licking at Akechi’s teasingly, feeling pleased when this alone leads Akechi to immediately slapping a hand in front of his mouth to keep himself from moaning. The other tangles in his hair, urging him to do more, but Akira doesn’t let it get to him. He wraps a hand around Yusuke and jerks him a bit so he knows he’s not forgotten, then licks more at Akechi’s cock, swirling his tongue around it and closing his eyes while sucking on the tip only.

He doesn’t expect Akechi to just straight up shoving himself in his mouth, spluttering around him a bit but managing to keep his composure. A look up reveals that this wasn’t even on purpose—Akechi’s eyes are squeezed shut, face flush as he tries his hardest to hold back in the face of pleasure that’s likely been foreign to him before this day.

Akira sucks on him dutifully, bobbing his head only a few times until he feels Akechi get fully hard, then pulls away to put his mouth on Yusuke again while switching to jerking Akechi off. He keeps at this for a while, then throws a look at Ryuji to see how he’s doing. His pace hasn’t changed much in a while—if anything, it’s slowed down, probably a small mercy with how much this all is turning Akira on. He’s living out his wildest fantasies and much more right now, after all.

He finds Ryuji looking off somewhere, brows furrowed in thought as he still absentmindedly strokes him. Akira smiles around Yusuke’s cock, then pops off him, nudging Ryuji with his foot.

“Penny for your thoughts, pretty boy?”

That brings him out of it, meeting Akira’s eyes and stilling completely, rubbing his neck shyly.

“Okay, so, I know this is probably gonna sound pretty weird, but I was just wondering if, uhm… If I could fuck you.”

Despite his phrasing, Akira’s cock stirs enough at the thought that honestly, he doesn’t even have to answer verbally anymore. He looks at Ryuji with hungry eyes, imagining being spread open on his cock, and yeah, he wants that.

“Should have some stuff in my coat. Go and look.” He pokes him again, watching in amusement how Ryuji nods and gets up clumsily to stumble towards where he threw Akira’s coat earlier. There’s a pattern to be found here, and it’s that no matter their acts or fantasies, all three of his teammates are still embarrassed about this. It’s cute.

Well, either embarrassed or impatient. Akira almost forgot the spell having them under control.

“Or you can just concentrate on one thing first,” Akechi says, rather annoyed, shoving his cock back at Akira and rubbing it against his lips as if to get off from that alone. It’s hotter than expected, but not enough to tide him over. Ryuji deserves to get off too, and with how excited he was just now to stroke Akira off, Akira thinks it’s justified to have him call dibs on the one step they haven’t taken yet.

God. Calling dibs as if the others are gonna have their turn too. He’s gonna die and ascend to heaven if this keeps up.

“I can multitask,” Akira replies cockily, licking at Akechi once just to tease him and earning a heated look in response.

“We might get you into a more comfortable position then,” Yusuke suggests. “As ill-suited as this booth is for this, the tiles here do look rather clean and would allow for more freedom.”

No one fights that argument and in the span of only a few moments, Akira finds himself on the ground, enjoying the new space as he pulls the person closest to him in—Akechi.

“Take this off already, nothing princely about what we’re gonna do now,” he mumbles as he pulls at the buttons on his uniform impatiently. Akechi swats his hands away.

“I’d much prefer not to,” he says. “Besides, I thought it was you and Skull who were going to get… acquainted with each other?” As much as it’s put up, Akira still wishes he’d go back to simply calling it fucking. No point in talking around it when they’re all gonna see him get fucked seven ways to Sunday in a bit. Hopefully. Speaking of which…

“I wanna see you.” Akira pulls at Akechi’s suit again, managing to push it up a bit at least, enough to push his hands under the fabric and roam his bare chest hungrily. “Feel you. Maybe even fuck you, if you’d want to.”

Akechi shudders under his touches, at a loss of words for a moment. He breaks eye contact, looking deliciously embarrassed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Joker.”

“Or you can fuck me, I’m not picky. Whatever you want. All of you can.”

A teasing last brush over his nipple, enough to have it harden under his finger, and Akira pulls away from Akechi, leaving him to ruminate on that while he turns around and looks at what Yusuke and Ryuji are currently doing.

They’re busy looking at item after item they’re pulling from his coat’s pockets, likely examining them for their usefulness, and okay, maybe he should have just taken care of that himself. The momentary break of all the touching and kissing is making him realise that he’d finally have an opportunity to heal them now and then find out what they really want, but… Akira feels his chest tighten weirdly at the thought. God, he’s going to hell for this.

“That one.” He points to a small, clear blue bottle as they’re pulling it out, motioning for them to throw it to him. “It’s not the same, but at least it’s got the right consistency that will do the job.”

“You know a surprising amount about this,” Ryuji mumbles.

Akira raises an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve never tried things out on yourself.”

“Of course not!” Ryuji falls silent, looks away. “I mean, not that stuff at least, uh…”

“I guess we gotta teach you a few things. Come here.”

Soon enough they all join him on the ground in various states of undress, but at least everyone has their pants down which Akira guesses is enough to work with. He doesn’t examine the bottle too closely, knowing it can’t do any harm even if whatever condition it’s meant to heal is not present in the first place. Whatever gets him loose and open.

He doesn’t account for how drawn they still are to him, though, and it’s admittedly considerably harder to lie back and spread his legs when the most handsome people in his life all try to kiss and touch him again while they can. Akira lets them for a few moments, trying to give everyone equal attention and not get horny enough from them stroking him again to abandon all this in favour of rutting into the touch like a dog in heat. Then he gently shoves their hands away, pushing the bottle into Ryuji’s hands instead.

The poor boy looks like a deer caught in headlights and Akira half-expects him to protest, but he just swallows and uncaps the bottle. “Damn, okay, guess we’re doing this, wheeew, totally not nervous. Gah, I just wanna get to the good part already!”

“This can be the good part if you do it right,” Akira shrugs.

“I’ll gladly take over if you don’t feel up to the task,” Akechi cuts in, inching a little closer menacingly while reaching for the bottle. It makes Ryuji yelp and quickly yank it back before he can get to it.

“What the heck, no way dude! You wait your turn.”

“As always.”

The words hold just enough bite under the light joke that it makes Akira still and think. He’s not gonna deny Ryuji now just because one of them is sulking about non-equal privileges, but… they’re four people and he thinks himself very flexible too. There’s ways to get creative here.

“You know, that bottle has enough for two people at least.”

Akechi freezes. “What are you implying?”

“That I think it would help your condition just as much if it gets fucked out of you instead.”

Akira rolls over and sits up on a whim, regrettably seeing that Ryuji was just about to start, hand hovering in the air in confusion. He turns to him for a moment to give him a peck. “Trust me, it’s gonna be even better if I’m on my knees for this.”

“You’re the pro, I guess,” Ryuji sighs, leaning away for now.

Akira turns back to Akechi. “C’mon, Crow, live a little. I promise I’ll be gentle.”

The boy swallows hard, getting up before Akira can reach for him and do things to try and change his mind. Like kissing him until he stops thinking. “Absolutely not.” Akechi crosses his hands and looks away.

“Maybe later?” Akira is not giving up hope yet. Akechi looks more bothered in the horny way than genuinely uncomfortable, after all.

“... Maybe.”

It’s a good enough answer for now. Maybe watching the others go at him will change his mind. That being said…

He turns to Yusuke, assessing what the curious look in his eyes means. Whatever he’s seeing, his gut feeling is good about it. Akira crawls a little closer, takes his hand and pulls him in, pleased to see that Yusuke yields with no resistance. “What about you, Fox?” he purrs.

“Please,” he breathes, more aroused than expected, but the pink in his eyes reminds Akira he’s still battling an ailment here that cares about nothing but pleasure.

“Come here,” he mumbles, pulling him in only to push him down to the ground, working on taking his jacket off. The zipper opens with ease, exposing Yusuke’s lean, almost bony body, and Akira makes a mental note to feed this boy more.

He looks up at him in beautiful anticipation as Akira gets him completely naked. “Should I do anything?” he asks. Akira starts massaging his bare thigh a little bit just to get him more comfortable.

“Just relax for me and keep your legs up. I promise it will feel incredible soon enough.”

He pushes his legs back, crawling over him so they’re resting on his shoulders, basking in the sight below him. Yusuke is already panting from arousal, his cock still as hard as it was in Akira’s mouth just now, curving back and exposing his opening. Akira neglects his own arousal that’s poking Yusuke’s thigh in favour of teasing his hole a little, getting him used to the touch, soaking up every change in expression Yusuke goes through.

“Skull?” he calls back, not having to wait long for a little grumble that makes him grin. “Sorry. Got distracted. Mind sharing that bottle with me?”

“C’mon man, my fingers are all gross with it already and ya keep me waiting?” Akira can almost hear the pout on his lips.

“You know you can just start?” He wiggles his butt at him playfully. “Not much you can do wrong other than keep me waiting.”

At least it makes Ryuji let out a dry laugh. “Shut up, I was tryna be polite. Okay, here goes then…”

Akira is just about to lather his fingers in gel when he feels the first cold touch to his rim, not breaching it yet, rather spreading it around it and trying to get a feel for it. The thought alone of being sandwiched between Yusuke and Ryuji right now, about to be spread open for whoever of the three is gonna want him for their pleasure… it gets him going more than the actual touch.

Ryuji pushes a finger inside, gentler than Akira expected, and for that alone he doesn’t hold back his little moan, closing his eyes in bliss.

“... You look beautiful like this,” Yusuke mumbles. It makes Akira open his eyes and lean over him further, promises in his eyes Yusuke will soon find out he intends to keep.

“Just wait until I’m through with you.”

And that’s how it goes the next few minutes: Ryuji prepares him with shy and tentative fingers, occasional rubs of his bare cock against his ass cheek telling Akira that this act alone must be turning him on after all. At the same time he watches hungrily how the glide of his fingers into Yusuke gets smoother and smoother the more he fucks them into him, the more he curls them to explore where it will feel best for him, soaking up every overwhelmed noise that falls from Yusuke’s lips.

At some point he beckons Akechi over with a curl of his finger, unable to stand seeing him simply wait in the corner and watch them go at it with his erection freely on display. A bit of teasing, though, a lot more coaxing, and Akechi is kneeling beside him, fisting Akira’s hair tightly as his cock is back in the warm tightness of his mouth. Together with Ryuji fucking him open on his fingers and having his own buried in Yusuke, it’s once again approaching too many sensations at once to keep track of, but Akira loves it that way, all three of them gaining a different kind of pleasure from him.

He gets so lost in the motions of his fingers while sucking Akechi off, just lightly enough to keep him from coming, that he almost doesn’t notice when Yusuke’s moans start to turn breathier, a certain pleading tone to them. Akira pulls back from the cock in his mouth just in time to see Yusuke grip his wrist in overwhelm while he comes with a choked-off moan, his seed splattering all over his stomach and chest. Akira watches hungrily, curling his fingers into him the way it must have gotten to him just now, fucking him through it until he’s sure it’s more than Yusuke can handle. Only then does he pull out.

Akira smiles down at him. Yusuke has never looked more beautiful, flushed with his head thrown back from pleasure. “You need a break?”

“I need you. Please.”

It’s an invitation he can’t resist, teasing his hole a little bit more and marvelling at how quickly Yusuke is able to recover. Metaverse magic, huh? He can’t say he doesn’t appreciate it.

Ryuji grows a little more tentative in his thrusts, the three fingers inside him feeling him out and getting him steadily more relaxed. His hard cock is brushing against the back of his thigh again, and okay, Akira is ready too, has probably never been more ready.

“This good enough…?” Ryuji asks, a quick glance back revealing him looking between him and Yusuke back and forth. Probably unsure of how exactly this will work now. Akira has imagined himself in scenarios like this often enough to figure it out as it goes, at least.

“More than enough. Just take it slow.”

A bit of shuffling and rearranging and they’re in a working position, allowing Akira to line himself up and give Yusuke one last reassuring look before pushing in. He watches his mouth fall open in a silent gasp, eyes getting caught on the way his chest rises and falls next with each deep breath, all the while making sure to be slow enough to not hurt him accidentally, as much as Yusuke is saying he’s ready.

At least until there’s suddenly a growing pressure at his hole and then a push inside him that’s a bit too quick to be prepared for, making Akira hunch over and whimper from the brief sting. The friction is luckily smooth and despite how thick he remembers Ryuji’s cock to be, it’s not just bearable, but downright arousing to feel him fill inside.

“Fuuuck,” he hears Ryuji moan, both in regret and arousal. “Wait, shit, was that too much?”

“Just enough,” Akira grins, pulling out of Yusuke again and thrusting back a little until his cock is in as far as it can go to show Ryuji he’s still into it. “You feel so good inside me, filling me so well…”

Ryuji whines and curses beautifully, then grips his hips tightly as Akira fucks himself on his cock slowly, shuffling forward to get into a better position for Yusuke now that he’s being spread open himself. He picks up the lube again just to spread more over his own cock and Yusuke’s entrance, wanting to make this easier for him. “Again okay?” he asks quietly.

“Please, Akira—” Yusuke stills, slaps a hand in front of his mouth. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to...”

“Who cares about code names right now. Call me what you want.”

He pushes into Yusuke slowly, guiding his cock with one hand. His face is more relaxed now, probably knowing what to expect, but the way he sees him biting his cheek is indicative enough that it’s a lot. The motion makes Akira pull away from Ryuji at the same time, who’s dutifully waiting for him, as much as he can feel how much it’s a strain for him. Akira doesn’t think he could imagine anything hotter.

Yusuke bites his lip, reaches his hands out to hold onto Akira’s free one. “You feel so… big,” he says.

Akira raises an eyebrow. “Good way or bad way?”

“Good.”

It’s enough permission to push in further than the first time. Yusuke takes it all with no protest and seemingly no pain except for some strain, making Akira glad he didn’t skimp on preparation. Something about Yusuke makes him want to be gentle with him like with no one else.

It’s different enough for all of them that each one has their appeal. His relationship with Yusuke is calm and comfortable and the boy himself hides just enough colours of his own to surprise Akira every day anew. With Ryuji it’s a little bit of the same, but instead of quiet comfort, it’s a push and pull and a lot of sticking together no matter what, them against the world, playful wrestling in the locker room when no one’s around and trips to get fast food and just hang out in the middle of the night. Then there’s Akechi, who feels like an endless string of rooms to unlock a new one each day, rewarding him either with a kind of nostalgia and belonging he’s never felt before in that way, or with a straight up death trap to disarm lest he wants it to kill him agonisingly slowly.

Yeah, no wonder they never got along. If he can trust them under this influence and there’s just the slightest hint of feelings involved as well… he’s truly not surprised it took them this long to learn how to work together, even if it’s only to get their leader naked and fucked stupid on all ends.

Speaking of which—Ryuji suddenly thrusts back into him again and sets a slow pace, Akira’s moan from that drowning out Ryuji’s own, and fuck, being between the two, cock in one and stretched open on another, it’s a feeling not even his wildest dreams could have emulated.

Someone’s still missing to make it perfect, though, and Akira uses the last bits of his clarity before he knows he’s gonna lose his mind to beckon Akechi closer again, the boy having leant away again to watch instead with a hand on his cock. He looks a little out of it as his eyes fall on Akira wanting him closer again, cheeks flushed, the display clearly having gotten to him. A much better outcome than the one Akira suspected, which was the bad kind of jealousy, if not even hurt.

Seems like in the end, they’re all still horny teenagers controlled by a lust ailment. Well, except for Akira who has absolutely no excuse for this. He’s starting to not care anymore.

“C’mon, told you before I got space for you too,” he mumbles, pulling him in and brushing his lips up his cock with a blissful expression.

“I didn’t know you were that eager to be filled on all ends,” Akechi says, voice breathy with desire. “I would have been content to watch for now.”

“But I’m not.”

He pauses inside Yusuke briefly and grabs back at Ryuji’s hips to silently tell him to pause for a bit just to take Akechi all the way to the hilt this time. He moans around him, then tries moving his hips again at the same time, Ryuji’s next thrust pushing him both more on Akechi’s cock and his own inside Yusuke, and oh.

Fuck, that’s good.

He can’t even think about setting the pace, Ryuji’s thrusts so eager it slams his hips into Yusuke each time as well. Their moans are all around him, his own joining in like a melody, as muffled as they are by Akechi’s cock. Every once in a while he pops off just to lean down and kiss Yusuke’s neck, brushing through his hair as a reward for taking him so well, the boy being almost too lost in his bliss to notice. Ryuji’s fingers grip his hips tight, pulling him back with each thrust that slams deep inside him, the slow pace abandoned much too fast as he loudly loses himself in his pleasure. Akira feels like he’s losing his mind from all the sensations, crying out as a particularly hard thrust makes him see stars and has him take Akechi’s cock back into his mouth just to muffle his noises.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted and more. Akira knows he’s not gonna last long with all this going on, but that’s fine. He wouldn’t be content to just let it end at one orgasm for him and with them being under this spell, he doubts this alone would be enough anyway.

Akechi pulls out of his mouth right when he feels him thrust into it more, leaking more as well, and Akira can’t even be mad about it as he looks up and sees him absolutely undone. “You’re getting a bit too eager,” Akechi says breathlessly, enough explanation as to what’s going on. Akira manages to give him a dirty grin, about all he can manage before he’s roughly pulled down into a messy kiss by Yusuke now that his mouth is free.

All he can do from then on is cling onto him and lose himself in the kiss as they set a pace that really makes him see stars now. Ryuji has lost all his initial shyness, groaning curses that have never sounded hotter into his ear as he hammers into him, trading the deep, experimental thrusts for shorter quick ones that brush against Akira’s prostate perfectly. At the same time, Yusuke tightens around him, moaning into his mouth and gripping his hair harshly for purchase, a contrast to how gentle he usually is. Akira loves it, wants him to lose himself even more.

Throughout the whirlwind of pleasure and overwhelm and the desire for even more, he feels a shift in the boy behind him first. Ryuji’s fingers dig into his hips almost painfully as he thrusts into him quicker, leaning up in favour of fucking him better, his voice getting louder and louder.

“Akira, fuck, you’re so tight and hot, I’m gonna— I’m—!”

Akira only answers with a shove back of his hips, not letting him pull out no matter what.

It’s enough to topple the boy over into bliss, Akira breaking the kiss to cry out when he feels his hot cum shoot inside him and fill him, Ryuji’s dick throbbing as his hips jolt into him messily. Mercifully, or because it would be too much for him as well, Akira keeps still and takes it instead of caving into the desire to thrust back, tiding Yusuke over by littering his neck in kisses and little bites all the while.

When Ryuji calms down and pulls out, it’s almost breaking him, having not come yet himself but being so close to it. Akira shivers from the feeling of his cum dripping out of him, thrusts shallowly into Yusuke for more pleasure. As nice as it is, it’s not the same now that he’s had a taste.

A gentle hand brushes down his back, making him pull back to look at Ryuji next to him. He doesn’t get very far before he’s met with a kiss—a peck that lingers. Soft. Tired. A little romantic, even.

“Daaamn, that rocked, dude,” Ryuji slurs against his lips. “Thanks. I gotta take a break, but round two soon?”

… Nevermind the romance. Akira supposes Ryuji could only ever be Ryuji.

Before he can say anything, though, he hears a familiar groan, followed by Akechi shoving Ryuji away rather roughly, the boy protesting loudly.

“Ouch, dude, what the heck?”

“You really know how to kill the mood, Skull. If you move over, I’ll be happy to finish what you started.” Akechi looks too horny to really sell the insult, probably the reason for his unnaturally loose tongue as well.

“I barely pulled out and ya gotta jump him already?!” Ryuji protests loudly. “I mean, can’t blame ya, but…”

“Ah, don’t you think I had to bear witness to your subpar performance long enough to not waste any more time?”

“Sub-pear what?! I had him moaning like crazy, dude!”

Akira exchanges a knowing look with Yusuke as they bicker, who laughs despite all, a brief respite that hopefully doesn’t pull him away from the edge too much. Akira doesn’t think he can last much longer if he’s gonna get fucked by the next one now, and he really wants Yusuke to cum again from his cock in his ass.

He gives Yusuke a kiss, whispers a dirty promise into his ear that has him blush hard, then turns to the pair currently at each other’s throats to hopefully speed up the process of getting a cock inside him again. Instead of begging Akechi for it, he merely watches their bickering, though.

“... You should honestly just fuck out of your systems whatever you got going on there,” he concludes in amusement. Both heads whip around to him at once.

“Wha— I’m— No way in hell, dude!”

“Agreed. I have much better things to spend time on than his mindless insults.”

Akira gives them half an hour at max before they’re all over each other as well. Look, there’s four of them and they’re all insatiably horny and he only has two holes and not enough capacity to use his hands as well. They have to get it on with each other at some point, right?

That’s a thought for later, though, because Akechi wastes no time in getting on his knees to line himself up. “Hopefully this will keep you quiet,” he mumbles, tip prodding against his hole, Akira shivering. Fuck, Ryuji got him so close just now, no way he’ll be able to last a second time, especially not with his cock still buried in Yusuke’s ass, who’s starting to impatiently grind down on him. These boys will be his death.

“Try me,” Akira mumbles and promptly regrets it as Akechi shoves himself in to the hilt, making him hunch over in a cry, face in the crook of Yusuke’s neck who shudders below him.

“Oh, I will.”

From then on, all he can do is hold on to the boy below him as Akechi picks up where Ryuji left off, hammering into him like only someone who was trying to fuck an ailment out of his system would, his thrusts shallow, but making up for it with how hard and fast they are. It’s all too much too fast. He vaguely feels Yusuke card through his hair, then grip it as his legs fall further apart, getting worked up again. Someone’s hand slaps his ass, making him moan pathetically, someone else is dragging him into a kiss. It all swims together.

Akira’s orgasm crashes over him suddenly and intensely, vision swimming so much with pleasure that he almost feels like blacking out. It’s drawn out with each thrust inside him, with each drag inside Yusuke that fills him with his cum, the image alone almost too much to handle. And yet they don’t give him time to recover or pull out. He doesn’t want to. The overstimulation blurs into genuine pleasure and makes him hold on tight, cock still hard inside Yusuke, fucking him by virtue of being fucked on the other end.

After that, he loses all capacity for anything that isn’t focusing on pleasure consuming his body like flames. At some point, Yusuke’s nails dig into his back as he tightens around him and cums again, and if Akira hadn’t already cum himself so recently, his breathy little cry and the way his eyes lock on his despite all would have sent him over the edge. Akechi mercifully lets up, if either so Yusuke can get up to recover, or because he himself wants a break with how uncoordinated his thrusts have been getting way too soon, probably because of the generous attention he’d been getting before this.

They change positions. Akira is on his back next, missionary as Akechi picks up the pace again, Akira taking Ryuji’s cock in his mouth during it since the boy is already hard and eager for a second round. It’s proving the ailment to be persistent enough to not go away from just one orgasm, and Akira’s mind runs wild with the possibilities this brings, imagining himself being fucked in every position under the sun by them all taking turns on whichever hole is available for hours. He wants it so much he’s deliriously wondering if it wasn’t him who got hit by the ailment after all.

A bite to his neck, a hiss of his name (Joker, in a tone he’ll remember forever), and Akechi buries himself deep inside him as he cums, holding him tight and urging him to take it all, be good and stay still for me. He whimpers around Ryuji, outright whines when Akechi pulls out, feeling his hole trembling as his cum mixed with Ryuji’s drips out of it.

Akira doesn’t have to wait long to be filled again. His fantasies come true and for the next few times, he’s being passed around between gentle yet greedy arms, always either riding someone or being fucked into the nearest surface. Those who have to wait their turn grind on him instead, a hard cock always pushing against his face or his chest or his stomach, marking him generously with ropes of cum until it’s clear to all of Mementos who he belongs to. Akira himself is no longer keeping track of his orgasms—every inch inside him is filled by white hot pleasure only, leaving no room for anything else in the world.

There’s breaks too, breaks meant for cuddling in a pile of sweaty bodies with him at the centre, gentle hands carding through his hair and massaging his shoulders, lazy kisses and whispers of hushed praise he gladly gives back to them even through his absolutely out-of-it state.

Maybe that reciprocation and a good boy here and a you felt so good inside me there is what leads to Akechi pressing the bottle of lube into Akira’s hands all of a sudden. “Don’t you dare act smug about this,” the boy whispers to him with blown eyes and his back turned to the others in shame that’s still considerably smaller than it’s been before, and Akira melts.

“Okay. Lie down. This your first time?” he asks, voice a bit strained, but all the more gentle due to it. If Akechi is willing to go this far, to trust him, he’s gonna make this perfect, even if he’s still recovering from his earlier orgasm.

Akechi huffs, not meeting his eyes as he lays down where Yusuke had just been. “I’d prefer if you talk less and act more.”

“If you say so.”

Akira dutifully shuts up and gets to work, watching Akechi fall apart with both lust and nervousness as he gets him open and loose, occasionally stilling inside him to get him used to it and to tide Ryuji over with his lips since he’s impatiently kissing wherever he can reach, mumbling promises to him no boy who came that much into him already could realistically make, but here they were. Akira is starting to get why they call this place the manifestation of human desire in a wholly new way.

He’s surprised when after a while Yusuke joins in and it’s not because his hands can’t stay away from Akira like Ryuji’s. Akechi’s eyes, squeezed shut from the overwhelm of two fingers feeling him out by now, flutter open at the touch to his hair, only to soften in acceptance and something that almost looks like need as Yusuke starts playing with strands of his hair. Akira feels a whole new kind of want inside him as he watches the soft display of care.

“Relax your muscles. Your frame is too taut, your body not allowing in true delight yet…“ Yusuke falls silent. “Do you… like me doing this to help, Akechi?”

He doesn’t immediately get a response. When he finally does, it’s from under Akechi’s hand covering his mouth in shame.

“It’s… appreciated.”

Akira wonders what it means that a single caress is doing more to him than any sexual pleasure has so far, wonders if he’s ever felt a genuine caring touch like this before. Yusuke is good at those, if only because he applies the same care from his art to humans too. As Akira pulls his fingers out and lubes up his own cock instead, he’s once again thinking that while he loves to bathe in the attention, they should start to see the value in each other’s company as well instead of putting Akira in the centre and staying in his orbit only.

He takes him slowly, if only to draw this out and get himself worked up better with how exhausted his body feels after all the sex so far. Akechi doesn’t seem to mind—if anything, he’s the stark opposite of his cocky self from earlier by now, mouth falling open in silent cries, hands gripping Akira’s that are holding his hips in place tightly. Yusuke shuffles down and kisses him at some point, and he yields into it as if he’d only been waiting for it, moaning into his mouth, hands letting go of Akira to clamp on Yusuke’s shoulders tightly, then feel his chest up. Yusuke gets bolder from it, sighing in bliss and running his hand down to play with Akechi’s nipples through his clothes until his back arches beautifully. Something about it gets Akira going immensely.

Yeah, okay. As much as he loves the attention, there’s a certain appeal to seeing them get it on with each other, even if it’s only baby steps.

He turns to Ryuji and sees his eyes go wide as saucers at the display. “Dude,” he points to the pair lost in their own world with his index finger, “are they, like, actually—”

Akira kisses him hastily just so he can’t run his mouth and risk pulling them out of it.

Fucking Akechi in slow and intense thrusts, Akira devotes what bits he has left of his attention to making out with Ryuji. After already cumming so often and feeling the exhaustion, he’s less heated about it this time, but that only means his pleasure is steadily trickling down and having him fuck Akechi more. The boy under him gasps whenever he hits a particular angle, the sound muffled by another’s lips on him.

Maybe it’s that which finally breaks the ice, because soon enough, Akechi frantically pulls up Yusuke to pump his cock with a shaky hand, looking at him with so much arousal that Yusuke can’t hold back and sits up to push into his mouth as well, now spitroasting him together with Akira. The sight gets Akira going so much that he picks up the pace, now really fucking Akechi. With Akechi’s head thrown back, each thrust pushes him onto Yusuke’s cock, occasionally coughing from the intrusion, but the slight bulge in his throat makes it worth it.

He’s surprised he still has it in himself to cum, but sooner rather than later, the sensations suddenly take a searingly hot turn, throwing him into bliss once more. Akira pushes into him as far as it goes, making sure to shoot his cum deep inside as he rides it out, the slower buildup resulting in a much more intense orgasm than his others. When he calms down, he pulls out gently and shuffles over to kiss Akechi’s cheeks and touch him lovingly as a reward and an attempt at aftercare, all while Akechi still sucks Yusuke off with a little aroused hum. Akira commits the sight to memory.

He devotes enough time to it until Akechi melts under him and pops off Yusuke to beg the other to finish what he’s started, which he does so with a last kiss and a breathy little if you’re sure, I’d love to. Akira watches with eager eyes until he’s being pulled back against a hard chest, Ryuji’s lips on his neck as he purrs obscenities to him he’d have never guessed to come from him, requests to sit on his cock, to spread his legs like the slut he is and ride him. Akira doesn’t have to be told twice as he adjusts their position until he’s straddling his lap, sinking down on Ryuji’s waiting cock and shooting him a seductive little smirk.

After that, he loses all capacity for anything that isn’t focusing on pleasure consuming his body like flames. He’s being fucked hard and fast, deep enough to have him moan for all the world to hear, body arching back from pleasure as the new position really allows Ryuji to hit deep inside him, the boy just as affected as him. It feels like forever and yet like no time passes until Ryuji grunts against his neck and fills him again, adding to all the cum still inside him, so much that it’s flowing out freely once he pulls out. The sight gets him going all over again and has him immediately thrust into Akira’s mouth next as he returns to full hardness sooner than should be humanly possible. Akira dutifully licks and sucks at him, pumping what he can’t fit, and hopes he won’t have to deal with feeling so empty for long.

He doesn’t have to wait long, Akechi suddenly by his side and dragging him into a filthy kiss as he pulls him onto his lap where his cock is already hard and waiting, making him wonder just how quickly he recovered from being fucked by Yusuke and if the other boy even came. He gets his answer when Yusuke, after having whispered something to Ryuji that has him blush bright red, sinks down beside him and gently shoves his head away in favour of taking Ryuji into his mouth himself.

As little capacity as he has to be aware of things while Akechi thrusts up into him, biting at his neck and whining in pleasure all the while, he still notices Ryuji shuffling between Yusuke’s legs and them whispering things to each other he can only imagine. Akira is surprised at how quickly Ryuji of all people caved, but the thought lasts for only a moment before Akechi bites down on his neck harshly.

“Look at me when I fuck you,” he gasps, his almost frustrated tone one Akira could get used to.

“Make me,” he rasps in response, winding his arms around his neck and looking at him cockily.

It ends in him on the floor with his head next to Yusuke’s, dragging him into a clumsy upside down kiss as both of them get fucked within an inch of their lives. At some point they switch positions and now there’s Ryuji under him and inside him and oh, someone’s grinding between his ass cheeks at the same time, yeah, that’s good. Akira is losing track of his orgasms, if he even still has the capacity for them. They fuck him from behind, from the front, against the ground, the wall, against someone else. There’s cum inside him, on his ass, his back, everywhere. No part untouched or unmarked. In this moment, deep down in Mementos in the arms of the people closest to him, passed around as he’s being kissed, fucked, adored, he feels utterly claimed. Wanted.

And maybe, just maybe… it’s finally reaching a point for him where it’s too much.

Ever the thrill-seeker, he doesn’t notice until it’s too late, until his vision blurs and his mind spins, until the last thing he does is slur a drunken need you harder to the boy underneath him before he finally succumbs to the stars exploding in his vision and passes out.

He comes to with a start , blinking up groggily and looking into three surprised faces all at once.

A groan. “Fuck, finally!” Ryuji shouts and leans back. “You gotta be shitting me. No way we went so hard on him that he needed a damn healing item.”

“And yet apparently we did,” Akechi retorts sarcastically, but his voice holds a certain kind of ease, probably relieved. Akira’s brain only vaguely becomes aware of what this all means.

“Hi,” he slurs, feeling as if his mind is enveloped in cotton. “Miss me that much?”

Yusuke shakes his head over him, and only then does Akira realise he’s lying in his lap. “You gave us a real fright, Joker,” he mumbles. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Kinda didn’t know that would happen.”

“Ah. As reckless as ever…”

Slowly becoming more aware, Akira sits up, thankful when he feels a hand at his back support him.

They’re wearing their clothes again and he feels pretty taken care of too, surprisingly feeling no soreness anywhere in his body, probably the magic of whatever they found in his pockets. Did they dress him, take care of him and get him into a more comfortable place while he was out? He feels the slightest tug at his heart, and isn’t that just enough proof that whatever he wants from the three of them, it’s not just sex?

And yet as he watches them walk around the place now, Ryuji shrugging on his jacket, Akechi leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and decisively looking away, and Yusuke staring at him just a bit too intently next to him, he… gets anxious.

They’re probably no longer under the status effect, and with the way they’re acting…

“... I’m sorry for this,” Akira says quietly. “I… I should have held back from the start and healed all of you, I don’t know why I didn’t, I…” Confidence be damned. He’s feeling more shaken up by the second about this.

There’s silence stretching between them, different expressions of shock on their faces, even Akechi uncrossing his arms and turning to him. Something about it reminds Akira of when he posed the question earlier if they want this. When they were still under a spell and unable to consent and he still went ahead with it because he was too weak to the way they touched him—

“Man, this again?” Ryuji looks almost disappointed. “Don’t tell me you regret things now. Fuck, man…”

“Ah, he seems rather concerned about our pleasure instead, Skull. Or am I wrong?” Yusuke.

Akira worries his lower lip. Wonders if they could still be afflicted, given how they’re acting as if nothing’s wrong. He curls in on himself a bit where he’s sitting, feeling terribly exposed and guilty. So much for being the leader taking care of them. Instead he took advantage of them.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles again, tongue made out of lead. He sees Akechi push himself off the wall and approach him in his seat, but ignores it. “I didn’t mean to force this on you all, and if you wanna hate me now or leave the team, I understand—”

His chin is gripped harshly, head tilted up. Akechi looks almost amused.

“May I remind you that you graciously spread Relax Gel all over various parts of our bodies? And here you thought you had made no attempt in curing us. Give yourself some credit, Joker.”

… Realisation hits Akira slowly. Relax Gel. Yeah, he used a random item from his pockets as makeshift lube, an item meant for… for…?

For curing status effects.

…

God, he almost wants to laugh. He does. A little breathy, almost frustrated laugh as he looks away, replays everything he can still recall in his mind. He can’t pinpoint a moment where they broke out of lust, but now that he knows, it’s so obvious to him. Still, if the influence of it ended as soon as they got down to simple preparations, then—

“Then how did we all last that long?”

Ryuji shrugs. “We’re horny teens, I guess.”

“Perhaps there was something infectious about Joker’s eagerness and all-ravaging desire,” Yusuke muses, making Akira blush in embarrassment. Did he just call him a slut?

It’s Akechi who’s the first one to pose a plausible theory as he puts a finger to his chin in familiar manner and walks a little around. “If I recall what I’ve been told by you about this place, we are in the manifestation of humanity’s desire, after all. As this place has various means of ensuring intruders never leave, it stands to reason that the laws of desire itself work differently here as well. In ways to keep one here as long as possible… with a guaranteed swift recovery of the stamina.” He stops, turns around and makes eye contact with Akira, smiling hauntingly. “Who knows? One might even be killed here and walk away from it unscathed... Ah, but I digress.”

Somehow that little murderous edge in his words threatens to get Akira going all over again. Okay, maybe Yusuke was right. All-ravaging desire fits his thirst for danger pretty well. Now that he knows he’s got nothing to worry about, it’s just coming back in full force.

“Man, my ass hurts,” Ryuji nags, promptly ripping him out of it and making Akechi scowl too.

He scoffs. “And yet you were the only one to not—”

“Shut up!” Ryuji blushes bright red. “I just— I don’t know, wouldn’t that have been, ya know… kinda gay?”

All of them fall silent at that, three pairs of eyes simply staring at Ryuji in lieu of an answer.

Akira is the first to laugh. “We’re gonna work on that.”

“Preferably another day,” Akechi cuts in. “I don’t want to know how much time has passed during our little… entanglement. Being the busy detective I am, I’m sure I’m direly missed already.”

“I have to say, I’d prefer if we leave for now as well and next time, perhaps… find a more suitable location for our get-together,” Yusuke mumbles, surprising Akira not just with his blush.

“You don’t regret it? You’d wanna do this again?” he asks.

“Why not? Was fun,” Ryuji answers for him, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “Uhm, maybe we should have a talk about this first, though…”

“Once we are out of here and can regroup, you mean,” Akechi says, now a bit more impatient. He’s clearly concerned about what he’s left hanging during his time here. Akira understands. Maybe he’s a bit glad for the opportunity to gather his thoughts as well.

“And how about you?” Akira still asks him, hope in his eyes that he dares to have by now.

Akechi presses his lips tightly together. Crosses his arms again. Akira hopes he’s as red under his mask as the others.

“... I suppose since we basically all admitted to certain desires about each other, we might as well… indulge in those a bit more.”

It’s more than Akira expected. He’s satisfied with that.

They leave the little booth, walking just a little closer to each other as they take the escalator back to the entrance in silence. It’s enough for Akira for now, knowing that if anything has changed between them, it’s only for the better. And isn’t that why he came here? To improve the relationship between them, get them to work better with each other? So what if he’s used unconventional methods—Akira likes to think he succeeded.

Akechi is the first to tap at his phone until the air shifts and swirls before them.

“Isn’t your line home the same as mine?” Yusuke says. “We ought to take the train together.”

Akechi hesitates before stepping in, not looking at Yusuke. “I… I guess we can, Kitagawa.”

They step through the portal together, Akira’s heart light as he watches them go first.

Before he can follow after the two, there’s a little pull on his coat. He turns around, face to face with Ryuji, who looks so shy it takes all he has to hold back from kissing him.

“Hey, man, so… once we get out of here. Wanna be, like…” He bites his lip, eyes nervously looking away and then back at Akira again. “Boyfriends and stuff? Goin’ on dates, kissing, all that…”

“I’d love to,” Akira says without thinking, but then catching himself and blushing. “Well… if you’re willing to share?”

Ryuji gives him a grin. “Eh, think I got the hang of it by now. Yusuke’s kinda cute, guess he can have a piece too.”

“... And Akechi?” He’s almost afraid to ask, all of them knowing that his betrayal is as good as inevitable at this point.

Ryuji at least looks only mildly annoyed instead of genuinely conflicted. “Maaan, like… you sure about him? If so, I guess he can get it, but he still gotta fight me for you.”

“Not sure you wanna pick a fight with Crow of all people,” Akira grins. “But I get it. Glad I can count on you to have my back.” He leans in, tilts his head a bit as he puts a seductive little smirk on. “My boyfriend.”

Ryuji’s face turns ten shades redder as his mouth falls open. Akira surges in for a quick little peck just because he can.

“Hey, unfair! It’s weird when you just say it!”

“Guess I’ll only think about it instead?”

“Not what I mean— argh.” He deflates, steps forward to approach the portal. “Let’s wait what the others say about that? About, uh. Boyfriends. Y’know. All of them. With you. Or… more. Gah, this is awkward.” After brief consideration, he extends a hand to Akira, shy as he offers it. “You wanna come too?”

“Yeah.” Akira smiles as he takes it, letting Ryuji pull him forward to step through the portal. “And for the record, I think they’ll be just fine with that idea.”

Boyfriends. Yeah. That sounds like a good outcome of this all.