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a prisoner to this heat

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It's his job to close up the library today, so Goro swiftly pockets his phone after double-checking the time and navigates through the familiar hallways of the third floor of Shujin academy.

He lets out a relieved sigh when an empty room greets him – removing students who overstayed is always a hassle Goro never likes going through, especially when they insist on almost being done with their work, often needing another fifteen minutes until they realize the friendly lines of his mouth spell something else entirely.

Goro still does a quick sweep through the room, just to be sure he doesn't lock someone accidentally in – Nijima did so once, and it resulted in a rather unpleasant meeting with the principal and the parents of the poor student, which earned her a nice rebuke Goro was able to covertly enjoy from the sidelines.

No student hiding for whatever reason behind the counter, no one asleep in one of the cubicles. There's a bag that looks like it belongs to Nijima on one of the desks, and he makes a mental note to grab it before he locks the library up.

Then again, Goro does feel rather petty right now. The image of her buying him a lunchbox this morning is still fresh in his mind, and one he won't forget soon. 

Might as well just leave it here.

When he rounds the corner of the high shelves stacked to the brim with books to check the small space that's hidden from view unless you make an effort to step into the section, Goro isn't quite prepared for the sight that greets him.

His favorite kouhai is on his tiptoes, arm stretched upwards in an attempt to get one of the books on the top row. The cute, red set of hairpins Akira wears as a charming accessory teasingly glints in the dim lighting, making the equally colored suspenders stand out just a little more against the white turtleneck that shifts and drags across what Goro knows to be soft skin the more effort Akira puts into his current task.

The sight is as innocent as it could get, but maybe that precisely is what causes Goro's thoughts to derail into a different direction with neck-breaking speed when Akira lets out a throaty, frustrated sound. It resonates even louder in the empty space of the library.

Akira's cute bottom strains against the material of his tight pants the moment he changes arms (as if that would make a difference), stretching just a bit more, and his fingers try finding purchase on an available row to push himself upwards. The arch of his kouhai's body, the utterly concentrated look behind those stupidly large glasses Akira also spots whenever he's dropping to his knees on a simple command, eager to-

–the heat invading Goro's body is one he knows all too well, and it warps the otherwise harmless image into something infinitely more suggestive.

There's still a little space his kouhai is missing to reach the book. Akira makes another whiny sound that has Goro biting his lips. The arousal pooling low in his gut starts to expand the longer he watches him, and that isn't a good sign - not here, at least.

Carefully exhaling through his nose and blinking the hazy seam on his vision away, Goro decides to lean against one of the shelves for now, watching with apt amusement how Akira tries his absolute best to reach that one book. A tongue begins to quietly poke out between lush, pink lips, and Goro knows it's because of Akira's concentrated determination that he completely blends out the options of bringing a chair or a stool to aid him, but Goro's imagination quickly warps the scene into one involving his cute kouhai between his legs, the same tongue that now wets its surrounding mouthing at a prominent bulge.

It's when the material of Akira's white turtleneck starts to ride up a bit, teasing with slivers of a canvas Goro wants to taint that his cock gives a wanton twitch. The urgent need to do something momentarily overwhelms his senses, prompting him to close in.

His kouhai doesn't notice him until Goro is directly behind him. He puts one hand on his shoulder, asserting gentle pressure, not only to steady his own, rapidly spiraling thought for the moment but also to make Akira aware that he's behind him. Their chest and back are not quite touching – it doesn't matter anyway because they're still close enough for Goro to feel the air thickening in promise around them.

"Akira," Goro purrs in a low tone, smirking when his kouhai visibly startles at hearing the depth of his voice so close. Goro feels the shoulder beneath his hand tense before outright relaxing as soon as Akira recognizes just who is behind him. Goro gives a comforting squeeze. "S-senpai?" Akira turns his head just enough for Goro to see large, doe eyes looking up to him with a sweet mixture of embarrassment and poorly concealed admiration.

The large, circular frames that are Akira's glasses are slightly askew, and if Goro wants to, he's sure he could count each long eyelash with how prettily they're just shy from touching the glasses on the inside. He could also steal them away and watch flustered fury enter his small form, always making him blush so wonderfully.

"What are you doing here?" Akira asks. There's the slightest airiness to his question that Goro almost missed if not for his uncanny ability to dissect people by his gaze alone. And Akira is his favorite target by far.

"I could ask you the same question," Goro bemusedly answers, cocking his head. "I'm supposed to lock up the library now, you know."

A blush slowly creeps on Akira's face that Goro wants to trace. Akira averts his face again, reluctantly nodding upwards once. "I'll be gone in a few seconds," he admits in a mutter, clearly embarrassed. "I just… need to reach this book." Goro can see his cheeks darkening even more.

God, his kouhai is really tempting him today, isn't he?

"I've seen that." Goro lowers his head, brushes his lips against an earlobe. Akira doesn't make a sound this time, but Goro can hear the stutter of a breath that fails to glide down Akira's throat without interruption.

It'd take little effort from his side to bite into the tempting flesh to coax a louder sound out. Goro's chest rumbles with amusement instead. "Would you like senpai to help you?"

Instead of answering, Akira bites his lips, clearly hesitant at having his senpai do such an easy task for him. The sight of teeth pressing into the same flesh Goro wants to claim for himself snaps some strings of the self-control Goro tried holding onto for a while now. Too impatient for an answer, he takes a step forward, pressing the full weight of his body against Akira and earning a cute gasp in the progress. 

"Don't worry, I'll do it."

With the lack of proximity between them, the shiver running through Akira's body doesn't go unnoticed. Goro's chest rumbles with satisfaction at having caged his little kouhai, trapped between a shelf and his chest. He allows himself a short moment to enjoy their proximity, how the soft contours of a deliciously soft back contrast with the more rigid planes of his own front before letting his right hand slowly travel up a still outstretched arm.

Akira is unable to suppress a whimper at the short but sensual brush of Akechi's gloves against the flimsy material covering the length of his arm. The sound coaxes more droplets of lust spilling into his gut, and Goro bites his lips. The pressure has them stretching into a dark smile afterwards. He brushes against Akira's other ear in a teasing manner.

"Something wrong?"

Another shiver goes through his kouhai, which he greedily absorbs, forcing a leg between Akira's, pressing upwards. The poorly suppressed moan Goro receives for his actions continues throwing his mind into a foggier state where it's progressively harder to resist what suggestive curls of his kouhai's body tempt him into.

"Ah- n-no," Akira manages to press out, clearly affected with how much his senpai's weight is pressing into him. There is no room for escape - not that his kouhai would even think about that. Somewhere in the back of his drifting mind, Goro remembers he asked Akira a question.

"Then, you can surely tell me which book exactly you need, hm?"

Akira's head jerks in motions that could be identified as a nod and Goro can't bite back the husky chuckle at seeing his kouhai's antics. Continuing his hand's journey, Goro brushes a fragile wrist, lets his hand move over Akira's, then spreading his fingers so that they rest between the free spaces that Akira's create.

It's an impossibly intimate gesture, feeling the small of Akira's hand underneath his, and Goro buries his face into the unoccupied space of Akira's neck to stifle a groan when his kouhai just goes slack against the books he's pressed into.

As if sweet, innocent Akira really wanted Goro to fuck him until he'd have to rely on his senpai to walk.

"Senpai-" Akira whines, and Goro applies more pressure on his hand. Curls his fingers so that the delicate leather drags against sensitive knuckles, all while breathing down his neck. "A name, Akira."

"T-the dark blue one," Akira stutters, clearly in no state to recite or remember the proper title. Goro hides his grin in Akira's collar - his kouhai is so easy to tease, falls apart so willingly with only a few, precise touches, and Goro would lie if he says it doesn't induce a hunger that manages to grow to concerning lengths each time it happens.

Goro lets his gaze flicker upwards. "There are two," he murmurs and lets Akira's hand go. It twitches, finger bending once as if to chase after Goro's, but Akira knows better, curls them into a fist instead.

A bit of pride unfolds within Goro's chest at his kouhai's good behavior. As a reward, he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the skin just above Akira's white turtleneck. Goro reaches for the row of books inaccessible for the other, but not without missing the opportunity to grind his half-hard erection against the pliant body at his mercy.

"Ah- senpai-" Akira breathlessly moans. Goro's eyes darken at hearing the vocal results of his efforts, and he moves the hand from his shoulder to his kouhai's hips, easily slipping a thumb past the restrictive material of his pants to rub small circles into the naked skin. "I need more details than just a color," Goro breathes into his ear, unable to keep a slight growl out of his voice with how worked up Akira already is. "Go on, tell me."

Goro is vastly convinced Akira will sooner melt into the row of books before he can get anything coherent out, but then Akira stutters something about a golden embellishment and Goro's hand darts to the book on the right that matches the description the most.

He pulls it out. "This one?" Akechi doesn't think Akira particularly cares anymore, considering how glazed over his pretty eyes are. Heated charcoal waste only a second lingering on the cover of the book before they dart to Goro's again, shining with an unspoken need that only increases the more breaths they share. Akira nods. The response is a bit too slow for Goro's taste. Even though his own brain feels like it's dipped in honey. 

"Words, Akira." Goro presses his leg just a bit higher before removing it, eliciting one of the small whimpers Goro absolutely loves hearing because it's the undeniable proof that he is the one to make his kouhai feel this good, this desperate for more heated touches.

"Y-yes! That one-"

It speaks for the sheer amount of self-control Goro wields over himself that he is able to shove the thoughts screaming at him to just fuck Akira into next week into the background for the time being to gather his astray thoughts.

His front immediately feels colder upon pulling back, mourning the loss of Akira's tempting heat instantly. But Goro has an image to uphold and a kouhai to tease, so he takes two steps back and compensate a little by appreciating the sight of Akira – now sagged against the shelf as if his knees already gave out, chest heaving in quick sessions, a blush painting his cheeks a pretty color.

Akira finds the strength to partially turn his upper body towards him, and Goro hungrily drinks in the image of a flustered expression, unable to meet his searching gaze directly. "Thank you for your h-help, Goro-senpai."

Akira's round glasses are more askew than before to the point where Goro's fingers twitch with the need to tug them off and relish in beautiful gray dilating just for him, the image unhindered by any offending material shielding them in useless attempts to – Goro falters. Brain circuiting for one, short second because just now he notices that Akira's turtleneck has ridden up on the sides as well, revealing a small, teasing expanse of flesh Goro instinctively knows looks better marked up.

The only thing preventing Goro from just resuming their position from earlier with the difference that Akira's turtleneck would be gone so he could properly mark him up while sheathing his cock inside of him is the notion of lingering staff or, god forbid, Nijima walking in on them.

The danger of getting caught admittedly has its allure, but while Goro is prone to flaunting his pretty kouhai whenever he can, his hate for actually sharing things that belong to him in any way prevails over that. This sight belongs to him.

"I was happy to help." Goro smiles, holding up the book in his hand as a silent offer. Akira sluggishly blinks, the shelf still supporting most of his weight.

Goro blinks when the other doesn't make any indication to move. "What are you waiting for?"

"Uhm-" Akira grows even more flustered, the red on his cheeks intensifying. Goro knows that beneath his top, the blush is also spreading over the neck and shoulders. He grinds his teeth togetherhe's not doing a good job at keeping arousal from ultimately plummeting him into a state where his thoughts involve carnal pleasure and Akira only.

Said boy still hasn't moved from his spot, so Goro raises an eyebrow. "Is something the matter?" His kouhai squirms, expression falling. Goro's eyebrow shoots even higher.

How Akira is still this shy after everything they've done will most likely forever remain a mystery to him. Nonetheless, it's something he welcomes with hungry eyes and even greedier touches, always amazed something as pure as Akira openly walked into the shark's maw that is Goro's arms.

Akira makes a frustrated noise. He's averting his head again to rest it against the books, dampening the covers with his hot breath, and his eyes shut a little as he squirms, rubbing his thighs together, almost as if he-

Lust spreads like wildfire through Goro, encouraging what's already burning and igniting what had only been smoldering. His kouhai really can't help himself, can he?

Goro smirks, eyes hooded and dangerous. "Turn around, dear."


Brushing invisible dust off his black school uniform, Goro tilts his head in an innocent matter that doesn't match the rest of his face at all. "You don't have something to hide, do you?" Which is ironic because Goro is obviously hard himself – but this isn't about him and more about teasing Akira until he's reduced to a needy, little thing.

Akira pushes his glasses up as he shakes his head, curls bouncing. "No. But-"

"Then be a good boy and do what I told you."

Not being able to resist the commanding undertone of his senpai, Akira slowly drags his body entirely to face Goro – whose mouth is suddenly as dry as a desert when greeted with the sight of Akira's crotch. A small, wet patch proudly sits in the middle, a healthy amount pre-cum already having soaked through.

Akira has never been this worked up by just by a little teasing.

It seems like that with each of their session, Akira grows more and more receptive to his presence.

And what a notion that is.

"Akira," Goro breathes in one, heavy exhale, and growls as Akira lets out a pitiful whine he immediately stifles by bringing the back of his hand to his mouth. Goro's erection strains against his own pants when he sees how the long sleeves of his turtleneck almost cover all of his fingers, a picture that would amplify his kouhai's innocence in any other situation if not for the heat curling in low, promising waves between them, successfully submerging the pitiful rest of Goro's mind in surging arousal instead of rationality.

How can he even try resisting when Akira is already this worked up when Goro barely touched him?

"Come here," Goro says with audible strain in his voice. Akira nods shakily, hairpins bobbing along with the countless of curls Goro will definitely pull at one point or another.

The book clutters uselessly to the floor as soon as his sweet kouhai is in arms reach.

Goro grabs him by the behind that already taunted from the beginning on, earning a cute yelp from Akira before he just sags against his senpai's muscular frame, melting under the kneading sensation working on his cheeks. How easily Akira submits to him, how willingly he gives Goro control - the trust that comes with it makes the deeper parts of his hearts flutter.

"Senpai- ahh, we can't! Not here-"

"We can and we will," Goro growls and prevents further, half-hearted protests from suggesting anything else by slotting his lips against Akira's. Gripping Akira's ass a bit tighter when he meets no resistance, Goro pries wanton lips open, pushes his tongue into the hot cavern that is Akira's mouth, and explores it to his heart's content.

It never gets old; the way his kouhai curls the material of his blazer in his hands in an attempt to steady himself, how his pupils dilate as Goro continues to lay his claim, drunk on the flavor that is Akira. Bitter chocolate and artificial strawberry, coming from Akira's favorite lollipops - a mixture Goro would hate in any other situation, but now can't get enough of, drunk on how good it tastes when swirled in his mouth.

Remembering they require air to continue any of this, Goro begrudgingly disconnects their mouths. He chases after Akira's taste with his tongue to make up for it, licking his lips twice before parting them. "You just need to be quiet," Goro mumbles, expression as dark as the blush on Akira's face is.

"Can you do that for me?" And because he still sees the slightest stutter of hesitance, adds, "Akira-chan?"

And his kouhai mewls, eyes fluttering shut and eagerly arching into Goro's touch at the mention of the additional suffix, panting against the already damp material of Goro's black turtleneck. "I'll be good," Akira breathlessly chants in that cute, high voice of his, so different from the deeper tone he typically uses, eyes shut as he rapidly nods. "I'll be good Goro-senpai, please-"

It's all the consent he needs. Goro walks Akira backward until he's pressed into the bookshelf again, this time with his back to it. Goro doesn't bother wasting more precious seconds on those red suspenders, simply pushing up Akira's turtleneck. It bunches just under his chin, and Goro descends on the newly exposed skin like a man starving for the mere taste of a meal.

He consumes every surface he could possibly reach – bites alongside a tempting set of collarbones, licks a fat stripe down the middle of a blushing chest, latches onto a nipple right after that. Akira's hands immediately bury themselves in Goro's hair, but they never tug, not when his senpai takes the rapidly hardening buds between his teeth, not when they're being bitten and pulled, blown on and sucked.

Goro opens his lips wider as if wanting to press an open-mouthed skin right around his kouhai's nipple, and then sucks with all his might. Akira's back arches in one, swift motion, involuntarily pushing his chest even more into Goro's face and doubling his efforts. Goro presses a gloved hand to the small of his back, encouraging the pretty bow of his body. It results in a little symphony of mewls his kouhai tries his best to stifle, and it makes Goro want to push Akira even more, see what it takes for the other to forget they're in a library where he's supposed to be quiet.

"So pretty," Goro coos once he lets detaches his mouth, smirking towards his kouhai. The hand in his hair twitches but makes no move to do anything else, so Goro continues, biting and marking his way across the other side of Akira's chest, where he repeats his earlier ministrations. The heat in his own pants is nearly unbearable at this point, but Akira always comes first and seeing his kouhai utterly ruined before he even fucks him is one of the highest pleasures Goro has come to experience. It makes him drunk with a unique sort of power he can never get enough of.

Besides, seeing, hearing, and feeling how Akira tries his best to not be as vocal as he usually is when Goro releases a nipple, moving upwards to paint his throat in a sea of marks that not even a turtleneck would properly cover is the sweetest kind of torture that Goro is willing to subject himself to.

Goro's vision flashes a hot white when there is suddenly a tentative hand pressing against his bulge, tipping the scales into a dangerous direction. "S-senpai," Akira pants into his ear, squirming. "You- ahh- you too- C-can I?"

There is nothing he can do but nod. 

Goro almost regrets the decision because Akira instantly drops down to the floor in the very same image that taunted him earlier, raising his blood pressure in his southern regions to alarming levels. The bird's eye view he has of Akira doesn't help - so eager and fixated on getting his belt to open, fumbling with it like he always does, no matter how many times he's done it already.

And even when Akira takes his cock into his mouth, swallowing and already letting it glide in deeply, he still looks so fucking innocent, eyes so wide and sincere that Goro shoves the rest of his length in without warning simply because he can't help himself, knowing his kouhai will adjust despite his size – they've trained a lot, after all.

Predictably, Akira's throat still convulses several times with how sudden the cock hit the back of it. Tears form at the edge of his eyes, too, looking entirely too pretty for the fact that they're mere droplets of water. Goro wipes them away before he grips the black strands he loves messing with to keep him there, and when there's suddenly a tongue trying to lick what it could while the hot walls around Goro still pulsate with how much they're trying to accommodate to the intrusion, he's sure some parts of his body leave him due to how sinfully good it feels.

So he can't help but let go, repressed desire unfolding in his chest in one relived exhale before it spreads through his body, down to his hips and arms, making Goro thrust faster, pull a bit harder to chase the pleasure that fries each of his nerves. He wants to moan Akira's name, let him hear how amazing he's doing, how wonderfully his mouth takes him in as if it's as simple as slotting their hands together, but he can't, not when Nijima must have started to search either for him or her bag at some point.

They need to do it quickly because Goro is still planning on fucking his kouhai until he can't walk straight for making him succumb to such primal desires in an indecent place. Akira is latching onto Goro's thighs now, steadying himself and encouraging the wild rhythm of Goro's thrusts into that tight heat, full-on accepting the cock dragging across the walls of his mouth.

The sheer motion of it creates such filthy sounds that Goro has half a mind to go even faster, see how much louder he can get Akira to moan around his length, which in turn results in the most delicious of frictions – but if he were to do that, Goro is sure he'd cum. The pleasure of his kouhai lapping at him in combination with his earlier anticipation already pushed him to the edge so dangerously fast that he nearly missed the built up for it.

Goro pulls Akira off in the last seconds – god, he looks so fucked already, glasses useless, mouth open and tongue lolling and twitching with phantom sensations, chin messy with saliva and what looks like pre-cum. Goro heaves him up, turns Akira around to press him against the bookshelf again.

Akira steadies himself by gripping the row of a books aligning with his head, and Goro sincerely hopes not too many books will suffer from what they're about to do. God, he's really going to fuck his kouhai in the library while not giving a shit about it.

"Senpai," Akira whimpers in a half moan, half-whisper. Goro is quick to shush him. "Don't disappoint me now, Akira-chan," he whispers into his ear, tracing the outer shell with his tongue momentarily. "You've been so good for senpai. Just a little longer."

Goro doesn't waste much time unhooking Akira's suspenders and pulling his pants down, although it does take a little longer than usual because he's using his right hand. He slips off both gloves, carefully throwing them into the corner where he'll hopefully not forget them, and wets the fingers of his left hand with gracious swirls of his tongue. The lube Goro usually carries around is in the bag he left in his classroom because this was supposed to be a quick stroll and not a quick fuck.

Well, Akira will just have to take responsibility for it.

"Quiet," Goro hisses since Akira can't suppress a loud whimper from dragging itself out of his abused throat when fingers probe at his hole.

If they had more time, Goro would have gone down on his knees himself, grabbed those mounts of wonderfully soft flesh to spread them, returning the favor Akira had done for him. He favors taking Akira apart with his cock only, but there's another art in just using tongue and fingers, eliciting sounds more breathless and keening from his kouhai than the drawn-out, guttural ones he gets for ruining him in the most debauched way possible.

Unfortunately, time is scarce, and no matter how much Goro wants to see Akira falling apart under his tongue and making a mess out of the floor simply because he wouldn't have been able to support his weight without Goro to hold him, the urgency of how long they've already taken prompts Goro into breaching a pretty, pink hole with the finger he wet.

In the edge of his vision, Goro can see that Akira spills a low moan face-first into the cover of a book before realizing that it's still too loud, moving one of his hands so he can bite into it instead. The sight is hotter than it should be, especially with how rosy his cheeks are, and it coaxes Goro to immediately curl his finger once it's inside. It's a tight fit because he only used his saliva as a lubricant. But judging by how Akira wriggles his goddamn hips to take him in deeper, it doesn't seem to make too much of a difference anyway, anticipation numbing some of their pain receptors.

Goro goes for a steady pace, quickly adding another digit once the hole is already loose enough. He keeps his free hand splayed across the small of his kouhai's back, preventing him from rutting too much against his fingers. Akira whines, the sound a bit louder than Goro would like, so he stills, dark delight unfolding within him as his kouhai drags his mouth across his hand just enough to get something out.

"Please senpai," Akira mewls in a barely audible voice, rough and low and pressing all the right buttons to shift the gears in Goro. Akira presses his head further into the books, uncaring of how crooked his glasses are, and Goro is pleased enough to resume the motions of his fingers. He spends another minute working his kouhai open with a third one, but at some point, his own heat bursts forth with unrelenting pressure and he has to dive into that salacious heat clinging to his fingers or else he'll surely combust.

The rim of Akira's hole already envelopes the head of his cock so tightly that Goro hisses. He puts both of his hands on the small width of a waist to drive his length deeper, eyes fluttering shut with each centimeter of warm, pulsating walls grabbing onto him, inviting him to just snap his hips already. A short stutter of his hips and Goro is completely buried inside of his kouhai – who receives him so well despite the lack of lubricant, full-on shuddering beneath his ministrations, weakly crying into a messy hand that's already caught countless sounds of pleasure. A shame that they're muted.

Goro bends his head a little so that his forehead rests against the same set of marks he drew across the back of Akira's neck. "So good," he murmurs into the skin. "You're so wet and tight, Akira-chan. Wanted me that badly, huh?"

"Ngh- always," Akira mindlessly rasps back. "I'd do a-anything for- ahh- senpai-"

"Anything, huh?" A dark haze of possessiveness joins the heat encasing his limbs in liquid fire. Goro grips Akira just a bit tighter, enjoying the muffled moan he draws out with it – Akira already moved his hand back to his mouth, biting into the abused skin. "What a cute kouhai I have. So willing and mine."

And with those words, Goro pulls his cock halfway out, only to immediately slide it back in. Time breathes down on his neck. It only serves his hips to go faster, lose any bit of the careful control Goro usually adorns in mundane life. Akira can't do anything but receive, each brutal thrust shoving him more against the shelf, having him scramble for any sort of purchase that could possibly steady him.

There's no doubt his kouhai is enjoying this, though – he clenches so tightly around Goro each time he thrusts in that it borderlines on being painful. Given by the occasional mewl that interrupts low groans, his raw nipples must be dragging across the surfaces of books and wood as well.

It's clear that Goro is half out of his mind when in the midst of this feverish heat, he begins to feel jealous over the shelf – which he quickly solves by cupping Akira's chest with his hands instead, roughly kneading. It's a bit harder to direct Akira how he wants to have a higher, more inconvenient angle, but it's nothing less but worth it because Akira now openly arches his chest into Goro's hands.

And like somebody just dumped cold water on him, all motions freeze when Goro hears someone entering the library.

"Akechi-kun?" the inquisitive voice of Nijima tentatively asks into the silence.

Akira's eyes are as wide as they could possibly be, turning to lock eyes with Goro, who only raises his head from his position on his kouhai's neck, peeking through the small space above the books. He's all too aware of the heat still eating away at his cock, coaxing him into moving again, but the sight of Nijima standing in the door-frame and looking entirely too lost banishes every thought of continuing.

That is until Akira's insides pulsate and tighten when Nijima audibly steps just a bit closer. It takes all of Goro's sanity to suppress an undignified groan because one look at Akira's face and – yes, his kouhai just turned from scared and mortified at the aspect of being caught to a writhing, needy little thing within seconds, eyes so wide and silently pleading that electrifying, mind-numbing arousal crashes back into Goro with such a force he's surely bruising Akira's chest by now with how hard he's gripping. He slides his hands back down to Akira's waist, momentarily perplexing how strongly he himself is responding to Akira's reaction.

"Akechi-kun? Are you here?"

Just when he thinks he couldn't care less about Nijima, she actually proves him wrong for once. And it's not hard because of how Akira clenches so deliciously around him while sporting the most dazed, tempting expression Goro had the pleasure of witnessing the moment he first bumped into Akira at school.

Since his brain stopped working on its usual coherency level, his body makes the next decisions for him. Goro ignores Nijima and slips out of Akira as quietly as he can, turning him around so that their fronts are facing each other. Goro gives him a dark, mischievous look that doesn't need any explanation.

With unmatched want coursing through his veins and blood like a provoked curse gone awry, Goro proceeds to grab his kouhai by his thighs, lifting him up to press him against the shelf again, only that Goro is the one supporting both of their weights this time. The small sound his kouhai lets out at being manhandled has Nijima's head snapping into their vague direction, but Goro sees her locking eyes with her bag first. She'd be distracted for a short while.

Goro turns his head to the more important matter at hand. Despite the large size of his kouhai's eyes that suggest he's still somewhat mortified that his senpai shows all signs of continuing instead of stopping, his legs curl around Goro's waist in a silent plead, locking him in place. The hard, already soaking length of Akira presses against his blazers, too, something Goro should not find this hot with how filthy it is.

The grin crawling on Goro's face is the picture of wickedness and complacency as he ever so slowly angles his cock with Akira's hole again. The intoxicating heat eagerly welcomes him back as if he never left in the first place, and it feels like everything is even more intense with how slow Goro has to drive his length in to avoid being caught by Nijima. He's hyper-aware of each and every pulse gripping his cock in an unrelenting vice, the sheer amount of bliss clogging his mind and blurring the feminine form in his peripheral vision, how Akira retracts one hand from Goro's shoulder to join the other on his mouth because he needs both to conceal proof of undeniable pleasure slipping past, gods.

The last dam in Goro breaks. He starts snapping his hips upward – slow, still so fucking slow, but in a position so impossibly deep that it feels like he's claiming parts of Akira he never reached before. Nijima is now starting to walk through the library, mostly moving around the front section, and Goro should really, really stop before she comes close enough to hear the unmistakable sound of sex, clothes dragging across naked skin, teeth biting so hard into the back of a small hand Goro is surprised he doesn't see blood yet.

At the same time, he also thinks the world could be exploding all around him and he'd still search for a fuck to give with how desperately his kouhai is clinging onto him. Hole clenching and legs interlocked; eyes still so focused on him despite the tears and hazy blur that coats them.

"He said he'll close up the library, but it's still open..."

Goro doesn't need to look through the small opening to see Nijima coming closer towards them. With each dooming step, Goro uses the vice-like grip he has on Akira's waist to drive him down harder, his kouhai immediately clamping down on him like his life depends on how deeply he's getting fucked, and Goro sees the moment Nijima really must hear something.

She's moving faster the same time Akechi picks up the pace despite the sky-rocketing risks. The world in front of him blurs, Akira's fucked out face and rolled back eyes melting with the billion of sensations bursting from his cock and spreading and expanding through the rest of him that Goro feels like he's transcending the mortal realm because it's so tight and hot and Akira-

Nijima's phone rings, and it's the only thing that saves Goro from having to explain why he's completely emptying himself in the depths of Akira's body in the middle of the school.

The footsteps retract as she answers it with a lilt of her name.

Goro uses the opportunity of her talking to wretch Akira's hands away, immediately replacing them with his own mouth to devour the last bits of his kouhai that remain. Retaliation for making Goro a helpless fool to pleasure that dragged him into one of the filthiest abysses of temptation. He pushes Akira further up the shelf to remove one of his hands from Akira's waist – red and angry and so pretty and his - quickly stroking Akira's weeping cock in a sloppy but harsh manner. It doesn't take long for Akira to release into his hand with a pathetic twitch, and Goro is more than happy to eat up the guttural moan he receives.

"-ot here. Oh, you think he went to visit Akira-kun? What floor was his classroom on again?" Nijima's voice begins to fade. Goro moves his head in time to see her collecting her bag, giving one last look into their direction before shrugging and stepping out of the library, phone still at her ear.

At once, the adrenaline that catapulted Goro to new heights dies down, abruptly making him aware of just how reckless this was. "Akira-chan," Goro growls with less heat than intended, nuzzling into a sweaty neck. "The things you make me do."

His kouhai shivers, but now finally has the opportunity to wrap his hands around Goro's neck now that he doesn't need to muffle his sounds anymore, loosely keeping them there.

"Senpai," Akira pants, almost ending in a whine. Goro waits for a continuation, but it's clear that Akira is simply done. He's about to pull out, his muscles starting to ache the slightest bit with how he was the sole reason why Akira's feet are still not touching the ground when his kouhai whines. "Don't-" Akira mumbles, having the audacity to give kittenish licks to the underside of Goro's jaw while clenching around him.

"It'll- ahhh, Goro- senpai, everything will- will leak out."

Goro often thinks he's the one in control in their relationship. But in moments like these, he's vaguely aware that he's nothing more than a slave to the desire his sweet kouhai ignites in him over and over again. To take that innocence apart and possessively hold it close to his own heart so no one else could get it, no matter how far they'll try to reach.

It's also why Goro wastes no time to heave the perpetrator of this situation away from the shelf without breaking any sort of contact. Goro lays Akira down onto the floor with faux gentleness, kneeling above him, and his kouhai is looking so genuinely surprised and at a loss what his senpai is about to do that he merely eyes Goro with a mildly anticipating expression. 

Akira pushes up his glasses (Goro wants to see them streaked with his cum), uselessly tries to adjust the pins in his hair (Goro wants those to come off with how hard he'll be pushing his body against the floor) until a yelp escapes his throat the moment realization sinks into him because - Goro drives his hips back, enjoying the lewd sound of his cum dragging across Akira's walls with a twisted smirk on his face, clearly just about to shove everything back inside.

And if Nijima really walks in on them a second time while Goro is taking his sweet time to ruin Akira-

He thinks he has enough blackmail material to use against her, anyway.