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Unwrapping the newspaper from a ceramic mug, Akira cradles the cup tenderly. A smile graces her lips, almost secretive as she turns to place it in the awaiting cabinet. Goro snatches the lingering parchment up and crumples it. It draws Akira’s attention, who quickly puts the mug away and returns to the box of kitchenware. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks flushing, and goes to work on the next dish.
“You seem pretty happy about that cup.”
“It was a gift from Sojiro.” Akira keeps her gaze on the box, unwavering.
“Sentimental as always,” Goro jokes.
Akira smiles again, more openly this time. “I can’t help it. I’m excited for us to have our own place.”
Goro grabs one of the few remaining boxes for their living room. “Makes sense. This is a step above an attic. I can’t believe you lived there through college too.”
Rolling her eyes, Akira ignores the comment. “You can’t tell me you’re not excited. I’ve heard you grumble about the shoddy little apartment Shido put you up in.”
“Well, yeah.” Goro pulls a hair tie from her pocket and ties up what she can scrape together. The effort produces a stubby ponytail but at least keeps it off her neck. She starts pulling books from the box. “We have a lot more space here. A view that isn’t a shit-filled alleyway.” Goro glances at the wide window overlooking a park. It fills her with the soft-edged memories of visiting similar places with her mother as a child. A little embarrassed, Goro faces the shelf and starts arranging the novels. “Might be nice to build a home for once.”
Keen as always, Akira hums at the comment. “You say that like you’ve never had one.”
“You know my story.”
“In the barest terms, sure. You didn’t really talk about the good parts though. I want to know about those.”
Leave it to Akira to go right for the bruised parts of Goro’s soul. Ignoring her fiancée, Goro stands in the living room, quietly shelving the books until she hears Akira shut the cabinets and kick the box away.
“Won’t you tell me?”
With a heavy sigh, Goro turns. Her brain short circuits at the sight of Akira’s breasts pushed up as she leans against the back of the couch. Nearly falling out of the low neckline of her tank top, Akira seems completely oblivious of what is happening. Which means she knows exactly what she’s doing.
Goro grits her teeth and decidedly tries to ignore the temptation for what it is. “Like I said, you know enough about my childhood home life. Why don’t you tell me about yours instead?”
Instantly, Akira’s coy smile disappears. She stands up, and her jaw sets as she immediately grabs the closest box to her. “It was unremarkable,” Akira snaps. With her back to Goro, she goes about setting up their sole video game console.
For a moment, Goro just stands there, wondering what happened. Akira isn’t necessarily an open book, but they’ve never had any issue with sharing about their lives with one another. It’s part of why they grew so close so quickly when they were young, and why their relationship thrives now. To be so coldly shut down, especially after being needled about her own childhood, Goro feels pinpricks of hot disappointment and anger poking at her psyche.
“The girl who got shipped off to Tokyo for rehabilitation had an unremarkable childhood?” Goro scoffs. “Unlikely.”
“Believe what you want.”
Goro blinks, frustration escalating to a new level at the apathy in Akira’s voice. “If you want even the smallest story about my home life, you’re going to have to be a little more available with your own.”
“Fine,” Akira spits. “My mother was a socialite. My father an international businessman. They never had any time for me. Happy?” She stares up at Goro, grey eyes burning with something deeper than contempt.
The ire in Goro’s chest immediately fizzles out as she realizes Akira’s icy response has nothing to do with her. She reaches for Akira’s hand, holding on tight even as she tries to wriggle away. “Hey.” Akira turns her head away, so Goro grabs her jaw. “Hey.” Still, her eyes are anywhere but on Goro’s face. “I hit a nerve, didn’t I?”
Akira stares down but cannot hide the way her eyes shimmer with the onset of tears.
“How about we take a break? We only have a few boxes left, and they can wait.” Goro leans down and presses a kiss to Akira’s cheek before letting her go. To her relief, Akira immediately closes the space between them and wraps her arms around Goro’s torso.
Time ticks on as they stand like that, woven together, comforted by each other's embrace. Goro assumes that their little break might just consist of silence and each other, but eventually Akira stirs in her arms. She peers up at Goro, eyes assessing her mood. Scanning for something. At last, she leans back and speaks, voice soft and fragile.
“I need a distraction,” Akira murmurs.
“What did you have in mind?”
Akira’s fingers tug at the waistband of Goro’s jeans and slip between them and her skin. “I want to go for a ride…”
Goro’s breath catches in her throat at the sharp turn from their cozy cuddling, and she has to bite her lip to keep from groaning. Despite the desire building in her chest, she wants to make sure whatever mood Akira is in isn’t just one that can be overlooked and placated by sex. “Are you sure? We don't have to do anything you're-”
Akira’s fingers shove further inside, and Goro gets her answer in the form of blown out pupils and a blood red bitten lower lip. It’s as good as a yes for her.
Reaching down, Goro sweeps an arm toward Akira’s legs, taking out her knees and scooping her up. For the first time this morning, she lets out a sharp, authentic laugh as she grips Goro’s shoulders and presses her lips against Goro’s throat.
The way Akira nibbles at Goro’s skin goes right to her cunt, and she picks up the pace, practically throwing Akira onto the bed when they reach their room.
Akira wastes no time at all in disrobing. She tugs off her skin tight tank top, and this time Goro audibly groans when her boobs bounce and settle back into place. On instinct, Goro surges up, kissing the space between them and down the soft curves to Akira’s nipple at the base. The pair of teardrops could make Goro weep, and she’d welcome drowning in their embrace any day.
Winding her way down, Goro peppers kisses across Akira’s skin, the swell of her belly, and pauses at her waistband, tugging it lower until the drawstring shorts free fall onto the floor. Akira leans back, watching with a radiant smile as Goro kisses her inner thigh and arcs toward her pussy. It’s already wet with anticipation.
Standing abruptly, Goro decides it wouldn’t be safe for her if she put off Akira’s request any longer. She staggers toward the bedside table and fumbles with the buttons on her jeans. In her peripheral, Akira smirks, clearly amused by Goro’s eagerness getting in the way of her finesse.
“Not all of us can be elegant, Akira.”
Akira snorts. “You know I’m anything but.” Her eyes zero in on Goro’s hips as she slides the harness up and begins tightening it. “Though it is nice to see Miss Perfect Presentation falter a little bit.” Her grin turns nearly malicious as she stands and reaches out, fingers dancing across the tip of the dildo. Akira brushes a hand through her hair and across her cheek. “I’m sure you’re up for the real challenge though.”
Before Goro can retort, Akira’s hand slides down to the center of her chest and shoves her toward the chair Akira likes to read in. And ride in, apparently.
Goro lands with a thud and barely has enough time to orient herself before Akira is in her lap. She guides Goro’s hands to her waist and begins to lower herself, fingers daintily guiding the tip between her legs. With a smirk on her face, she rocks back, sinking down onto the cock in one fluid motion. The pressure from Akira’s body makes Goro dizzy, and she groans in tandem with Akira. Her head rolls back against the chair. Her fingers dig into Akira’s supple skin. Her breath quickens as pleasure sparks up her spine and lights up her mind. It’s all Goro can do to shudder and gasp as Akira grins at her and begins bouncing like her life depends on it. Her movements are shallow but effective.
Her breasts lift as she slams down, showing off the shimmer of sweat that builds at her clavicle as she exerts herself. Every time she settles against Goro’s hips, a moan punches out of Akira’s mouth. A soft, breathy thing that makes Goro’s fingers itch to pick her up, slam her against the bed, and show her how good of a time she can really have. But Goro swallows those thoughts — she’s here for Akira’s pleasure, nothing more. She’ll do anything to make sure nothing steals away Akira’s happiness.
A particularly lewd moan of her name rips Goro from her thoughts. Her eyes fixate on Akira, who’s rapidly losing her pace. Her body trembles with each movement, and it’s not her thighs that are worn out. She’s close. Very close, judging by the blush high on her cheeks and the way her lower lip is ensnared between her teeth. It’s an enrapturing sight.
One that makes Goro feel giddy with pride. This is a sight for her and her alone. Goro leans forward to press a kiss between Akira’s breasts, peers up at her with a smile, and settles back in her seat before snapping her hips upward.
Akira keens loudly, hand striking out and grabbing onto Goro’s shoulder to hold herself steady as her pussy is split open by a thick cock and deep thrusts. Goro’s head spins at the sight of Akira’s flushed cunt spreading around the milky white toy. Her clit shines — rounded, perked, and desperate for a touch. Goro presses a rough thumb against it, unable to resist the temptation. Akira shudders in response, voice growing louder as Goro pounds into her and teases her all the while.
For several minutes, they’re in sync. Akira grinds down in tandem with Goro’s thrusts. Every slap of their hips sends shockwaves throughout Goro’s body. Fingers bruising, she clings onto Akira and quickens her speed. She strikes against Akira’s cervix, grinning when Akira’s mouth pops open with a gasp. So Goro repeats the action. Akira’s eyes widen, and her other arm raises to secure herself against Goro. And Goro does it again. And again. And again until Akira’s thighs are shaking and her head hangs between her shoulders.
“G- Goro…” Akira’s voice trembles as much as she does.
But Goro has no interest in stopping. She slams into Akira once more, rubbing her thumb against Akira’s clit in time with her thrusts. Akira’s nails dig into Goro’s skin, feeling likely they nearly puncture through as her breathing comes in quick bursts before stopping completely as she gasps and shudders, body twitching and jerking away from the hand that pleasures her.
Her eyes flutter as she lifts herself up, red hot cunt even wetter than when they started, dripping as she nestles down beside Goro. Immediately, Akira moves to pick at the buckles of Goro’s strap. She manages to push it off with a little effort.
When Akira’s fingers inch toward Goro’s pussy, she grabs her wrist.
“None of that.”
Akira stares at her with wide, confused eyes.
“I don’t need anything extra.” Goro kisses Akira’s forehead, nose, then lips. “You were perfect.”
Akira smiles and leans her head against Goro’s shoulder, silent except the soft way she breathes. Clearly lost in thought.
Goro doesn’t mind the silence. It’s enough to comb her fingers through Akira’s wild hair and kiss the crown of her head. When she’s ready to speak, she will.
Several moments pass peaceably, and Goro’s eyes grow heavy. The soft shuffling as Akira scoots further up the chair keeps her awake. Akira hooks her legs over Goro’s thighs and presses her forehead to Goro’s — something she can only do when they’re tangled like this.
After a hesitant pause, she speaks, voice barely above a whisper, “I’m sorry for pushing you about what your home was like as a kid. I don’t want to think about my childhood lifestyle either. There’s nothing from that time I want to replicate in our home.”
Goro glances up, and Akira’s eyes are shut, tears prodding at the edges of her lashes. “That bad?”
“The house was the domain of perfection. Any decorations in the house belonged to my parents and only served to impress people. Their favorite sport. If it didn’t have a purpose, it didn’t stay in the house. After ten, I wasn’t even allowed to have toys. The maids who did everything made it worse. You couldn’t even feel like it was your space, because the maids would gossip and complain if you left too much of a mess. I hated it. The house, the maids, the way it ran. But my parents didn’t care if I was unhappy. Their image mattered more. It’s why they sent me to Tokyo. And why they didn’t complain when I chose to stay.”
Akira opens her eyes, and a tear arcs across the bridge of her nose, dripping onto Goro's shoulder. “Living in an attic with crane prizes for decorations and a milk carton bed was better than the entirety of my childhood. I could finally breathe.”
Goro leans up, kissing Akira’s forehead. “Thank you for sharing.” Her heart grows heavy. “My childhood was inconsistent at best, but at least my mother made me feel loved, for the time I had her.” She gathers up Akira’s hand in her own, pressing it to her lips. “We’ll build a home for us from scratch. No past haunting it. No expectations. Just us.”
With a soft, genuine smile on her face, Akira closes her eyes again and sighs happily. “Just us.”