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“Ugh, I give up!” Ann muttered in disgust, “His disguise is too good this year.”
Goro grunted, agreeing but refusing to admit defeat just yet. All around them swirled people in various Halloween costumes, majority mascot costumes because of the theme, the dim lighting strobed with neon colours giving him a low-grade headache. He despised these parties, but Akira always dangled the challenge of ‘I bet you won’t find me this year’ and, well, Goro was practically contractually obliged to crush Akira’s confidence under his heel, with a challenge like that delivered.
Three years prior, Goro won because he recognised Akira’s body shape anywhere. Two years prior, Akira began wearing full-body suits, but he had taken off his gloves to handle a drink and Goro had recognised them (and the wedding band) instantly. Last year Akira hadn’t removed his gloves at all, but his mannerisms had still been plain as day, smacking his costume’s hand against his helmet every time he had wanted to fidget with his hair. It had been child’s play to figure out.
This year, however… well, it seemed Akira finally smartened up.
Getting flustered won’t help. Goro stuffed down his budding irritation - the faster he found Akira, the sooner he could leave this hellscape of drunken coworkers - and cupped his chin, scanning his environs. The party was extravagant, paid out of the pocket of Kirijo Corporation and designed to encourage interaction and socialisation between the various departments of the international company in a casual space. Mitsuru Kirijo, being so stern, never gave off the impression she would encourage such a thing, but every year, like clockwork, there would be a Halloween party with a theme, and a Christmas party, and a New Years…
Goro swept aside those useless thoughts, refocusing. Akira. Disguise. Go.
This year’s Halloween theme was mascots. As per usual, Goro didn’t adhere to the costume and turned up in a suit and tie, obligingly showing his face, saying hello to the few people he cared about, then busting Akira’s disguise to rub it in his face before going home early. Usually his quest was supported by Ann and Ryuji, though those two were mostly for comic relief or moral support, with how much actual use they were.
At his side, Ann was dressed as a catwoman villain, except less on the sexy and more on the armoured to the teeth - she clearly roped Futaba’s superior cosplay abilities and knowledge of Mecha-anime into her costume - using the advantage of her heels to peer over the crowd of various bobble-headed mascots. On Goro’s other side, Ryuji was dressed as some pirate (maybe) with a skull mask, minimal effort but with a surprisingly good outcome, and was more interested in sipping a brightly coloured drink than ferreting out his best friend.
“Aren’t you even going to pretend to help?” Goro asked him.
“What’s the point?” Ryuji said, “You’re just gonna pull something out of your ass and magically know it’s him because you, uh, recognise his smell or gait or whatever.”
“He would be sweating too much in his mascot suit for me to identify his cologne,” Goro informed him.
As Ryuji whispered “gay” under his breath, Ann snapped her fingers in revelation; “I have an idea!”
“We’re not knocking people’s heads off,” Goro said immediately. That had been last year’s idea and almost got them kicked out.
“No, no, no,” Ann’s helmet covered half of her face, leaving her painted lips exposed as they curved into an impish smile, “We’ll make him come to us.”
This should be interesting; “And how are we going to trick Akira into doing that?”
Ann drew herself up to her full height, sucking in a deep breath and puffing out her chest before cupping her hands around her mouth. Goro planted his hands over his ears just in time for her to bellow, heard clearly over the noise of music and chatter; “OH MY GOD, LOOK AT THESE NUDES OF AKECHI-SENPAI, UWAAAH~ ♥♥♥!!”
Goro and Ryuji gaped at her.
“Dude…” Ryuji whispered.
Goro’s hands shifted to cover his face instead as the people closest to them immediately turned to stare, the chatter and even the fucking music screeching to a silent halt before a familiar voice yelled, sounding closer with each syllable; “THERE ARE NUDES?!”
Akira. Fucking. Kurusu.
“Why do you sound so excited; you’ve seen me naked!” Goro howled, as the music and chatter reluctantly started up again as their quarry elbowed their way into their little circle. Akira was dressed up as a fucking Mara, “Ugh, you disgust me.”
Akira the Mara stood there expectantly, the elongated penis head wobbling from side to side as he presumably looked from an overly smug Ann, to the flushed Goro, and finally onto the grinning Ryuji.
“Nudes?” Akira repeated.
“Sorry,” Ann stuck a pose, sticking out her tongue, “I lied! Hee hee!”
“Aw.”
“Dude, what’s with the dickhead?” Ryuji chortled, clutching his drink close to his chest as he leaned over to gently punch the side of the Mara’s head, “Can you even see outta that thing?”
“I can see enough,” Akira said, his head wobbling in Goro’s direction, “So, guess you guys win again.”
“I wish I hadn’t,” Goro muttered sullenly.
“Aw, honey,” Akira clasped the creepy Mara arms together, not having enough dexterity in the costume’s gloves to clasp hands instead, “You saying you didn’t want to see me? But you always get so excited at getting me out of my costume-”
“Shut up,” Goro squeaked, his ears burning as Ryuji and Ann snickered on either side of him, “That’s a lie, I do not! I’m going home!”
“Aw, c’mon, Goro-”
“Yeah, dude, stay for a drink-”
“It’s okay,” Akira said, his tone sly, “He's just being bashful. Y'know, he’s still shy about you-know-what.”
“Alright, listen here, you little shit,” Goro began.
“Hey, wait a second,” Ryuji interrupted, “Why do you even want nudes of him? Don’t you have some already?”
An awkward silence descended.
“Uh,” Akira started.
“That’s none of your business,” Goro said stiffly.
“That’s a yes,” Ryuji said sagely to a nodding Ann.
“S-So, what if it is?!” Goro huffed, having an awful feeling his face was going to be permanently red for the rest of the evening, “It’s normal for- it’s normal!”
Ryuji held his hands up placatingly, “I know-”
“And Kurusu always insists, anyways-”
“Oh, I’m Kurusu now, huh?”
“-and since you do,” Goro snapped, whirling on his stupid husband, “Why are you scavanging for crappy knock offs from shady dealers?! Aren’t the ones I give you good enough?!”
“Hey, I’m not shady,” Ann pouted.
“More like a homewrecker,” Ryuji muttered sotto voce.
“T-The ones you give me are perfect, darling!” Akira said quickly, trying to be cute but failing because he was in a fucking giant dick costume, “I don’t have a single complaint! They’re lovely and- and super sexy!”
“Then why,” Goro growled, his teeth bared like an attack dog ready to savage, “did you come sprinting when someone yelled they had nudes of me?”
“To- to protect your honour!”
“Liar!”
“Ahhh, uh, because they’re new?!”
“What am I, a set of trading cards to collect?!”
“I think we should go,” Ann said to Ryuji.
“Yeah.”
Oblivious to Ann and Ryuji beating a sneaky retreat from the domestic in process, Akira squirmed in place, the Mara head flopping from side to side, before he declared; “I have a voyeur kink!”
“Pervert.”
Akira made a low whining noise, “Don’t kinkshame me…”
“I’m not kinkshaming you,” Goro lied, crossing his arms and looking down his nose at his wilting husband- ugh, he can’t- this fucking costume was making it difficult to have a proper argument with him, “Take off your stupid - head. Thing. Whatever.”
“...it’s one whole costume,” Akira mumbled, “It comes off as a oner.”
Ugh.
“We’re relocating our argument to the cloakroom.”
Ten minutes later, Akira was naked in the cloakroom with only a loose pair of shorts making him decent.
Goro felt very very tired.
“Where…” he sighed, “are your clothes.”
“Do you know how hot this costume is?” Akira lovingly set the Mara costume on the floor, tucked out of the way, “I was sweating my balls off.”
i married this man, Goro sighed to himself.
He gave into the urge and massaged his temples, squeezing his eyes shut. The bass of the awful party music filtered through the walls of the, admittedly fancy, cloakroom, a throb of noise that pounded in time with his headache. Fucking corporate parties, bane of his existence.
He felt familiar fingers gently nudge his away a few moments later, and he sighed, letting his arms dangle as Akira expertly rubbed his temples for him. His irritation began to melt away, grudgingly, and he muttered under his breath as his husband moved to card his fingers through his hair instead, massaging his scalp.
“You’re like a cat,” Akira noted in clear amusement.
“Fuck off,” Goro grumbled.
Akira’s hand settled on his nape, as easily as if it belonged there, and Goro opened his eyes to see Akira smiling at him hopefully. Asshole thought he was off the hook.
“Voyeur kink,” he said, something singing in his heart when Akira flushed a little.
“Ah, hm, yeah, I guess,” Akira mumbled.
“You do realise any candid nudes that supposedly exist on the internet are fake, right?” Goro said, “Utterly inferior to the source material.”
“Yeeeeah…” Akira sighed, his free hand fiddling with Goro’s tie, loosening it, “But, beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Beggars- I’m right here,” Goro huffed, swatting Akira’s hand from his tie and stepping out of arm’s reach, “You could ask!”
“But- you were already kind of,” Akira made a wobbling gesture with his hand, “over the nudes you did give me. I didn’t want to pressure you.”
That was true. It was one thing to be admired in the heat of the moment, Akira murmuring hushed praises into his ear as his hands worshipped the lines of his body - quite another to pose and immortalise his naked body for Akira to look at whenever he chose. They were good photos, Goro didn’t half-ass anything, even if it did make him flush, but they did require a bit of negotiation between themselves.
“Do you honestly think you could pressure me into anything?” Goro scoffed. They both knew the answer was ‘yes’, but he bulldozed over it, continuing; “I’ll do it.”
“Uh,” Akira blinked, looking wary, “Goro, you don’t have to-”
“I’ll do it,” Goro repeated stonily, “You want voyeuristic nudes? I’ll give you fucking voyeuristic nudes.”
“Goro-”
“They’ll be incredible,” he declared, “You won’t be leaping at some random stranger’s offers for them next time.”
“Are you-” Akira let out a disbelieving laugh, “Are you jealous of- Goro, that’s-”
He interrupted his husband by jabbing a threatening finger at him, “I’m going home to make them now. You stay at this party. Don’t come home until I call you.”
“Uh… okay?”
Goro glared at him to ensure compliance - Akira gave him a bewildered smile in return - before turning his nose up and stomping out of the cloakroom.
“Bye, honey?” Akira called after him, sounding close to laughter, but Goro ignored him.
Stupid man. The things he did for him…!