Chapter Text
The revving engine is jarring in his ears. He rests his hands on Ryuji’s shoulders and his grip tightens as the bike begins to rock back and forth, Ryuji having just put the kickstand up. Akechi focuses on the way the shoulders feel as the arms they belong to rev the engine once more, a bit embarrassed that he’s nervous about this.
All too soon, Ryuji places his feet in the footrests and puts the motorcycle in motion. Akechi flinches and grabs at whatever is in reach, burying his face in the man’s back. He doesn’t know how far they’ve traveled or in what direction, but after some time, he can feel the bike come to a stop and hands pulling at his own. Akechi tightens his grip, and Ryuji struggles against him for a moment before tensing up as they begin moving forward again.
The roar of the engine seems to reflect its driver’s own agitation. It feels like they’re moving faster, but Akechi still can’t bring himself to open his eyes or move in the slightest.
After a brief eternity, he feels the bike slowing again and hears the sound echo. He slowly opens one eye to see another parking garage. They’re parked before he realizes it; he’s still a bit dazed as Ryuji rushes off the bike, yanking his own helmet off.
“Dude, what the hell?!” Ryuji stares at him with furrowed brows.
“What?” Akechi asks dumbly.
“When I said hold on, I didn’t mean to my dick!” He whisper yells the last word.
“I-what?” Ryuji sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, very visibly agitated. Oh. A small smirk creeps onto Akechi’s lips as the opportunity to take the upper hand presents itself.
“I see you seem to be in a bit of a bind.”
“Oh-oh really?! And whose fault is that?!” As he watches the blond’s face redden, curiosity gets the better of him; he decides to see how far he can take this.
“Want some help?” Ryuji shoots him quite the expression. “Oh come on. I always repay my debts.” Akechi steps off the bike. “That’s what you brought me to your place for, isn’t it?”
“No, idiot!” Ryuji splutters. “I thought you needed to get home and since you never told me where home is…” Ryuji paces. “You don’t gotta sell yourself out for a ride and a couch to sleep on! Jesus….”
Akechi turns on the charm, doubling down on this challenge.
“Stop it,” Ryuji points a stern finger at him.
“Stop what?”
“That. That… thing you’re doing, that you do when you’re makin’ a hard sell with the ladies…. Stop that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Akechi slinks closer. “It’s so cold out. How about we go inside, hm?” He watches the vein in the man’s neck pulse furiously, and his smirk grows from coy to seductive.
“Akechi, back up,” Ryuji stares intently at him. Akechi fights a shiver—from the cold or the edge in the other’s tone, it’s hard to say—as he digs in deeper, dying to know ’or else’ what.
“But I’m freezing, Sakamoto-senpai,” he teases, relishing the fiery hue of the man’s ears. Ryuji moves to shove him away, but Akechi reacts just as quickly, grabbing the other’s arms and pulling him close, nose to nose, staring furiously into each other’s eyes.
“Fuck you,” Ryuji pants through clenched teeth.
“You won’t,” Akechi smiles devilishly before pecking the man on the lips.
Ryuji takes him by the collar and shoves his back against the seat of the motorcycle before smashing their lips together. Akechi reciprocates without hesitation, shoving his tongue out and entangling it with the other’s. He runs his hands up and down Ryuji’s chest, tugging at the zipper to the hoodie beneath the heavy black leather jacket.
They separate with a gasp as they feel their bodies meeting in just the right spot. Akechi glances down at Ryuji’s waist as if requesting permission. Ryuji bites his lip as he guides Akechi’s hand to his belt buckle where the man wastes no time undoing the closures.
“Ss! Mmm…” Ryuji hisses before silencing a moan at the cold fingers wrapped around him. Having long since been lost to reason, Akechi strokes desperately, the warm wet quickly coating his palm. Ryuji bites back another moan as he grabs Akechi’s wrist to still the motion.
After a couple of deep breaths, Ryuji opens his eyes and tentatively reaches for Akechi’s waistband, a question Akechi rolls his hips into the touch in answer to.
“Uh-ahhh!” A sound of shock and pleasure erupts from Akechi’s mouth.
“You must want someone to hear you,” Ryuji growls as he pumps the other at a slower pace. Akechi slaps a hand over his mouth as he attempts to resume his own ministrations.
“Better hold it. That’s a new paint job; you cum on this bike, I’ll make you lick it off.” Akechi tenses and growls a guttural curse as he tries and fails to catch his release with his less occupied hand. Ryuji pulls the trembling man close to him, kissing him deeply as his own release spills over the hand still gripping him. They stand panting against each other’s lips as they come down from the high.
After who knows how long, Ryuji is the first to remember where they are.
“We… we should uh…” he starts breathlessly, glancing around.
“Oh… yeah,” Akechi nods as he starts fastening his jeans, already determined to ride the bike and the man next time.