Alternate title: "Trapped in an ability user's sex room trope but I rub my grubby aroace hands all over it - sskk style"

Warning: Non-sexual nudity, mild sexual content (nothing between characters), mild violence, brief internalized acephobia (canon-typical Atsushi lol)

Characters: Atsushi, Akutagawa, Original Character; minor Dazai and Kyouka

Notes: aroace Akutagawa and aroace Atsushi, developing friendship, post-Cannibalism arc

Summary: Atsushi rolls on his stomach again and finally lifts his head after Akutagawa swears a nasty line of curses, squinting his eyes. "Give it up Akutagawa. This room obviously won't go away unless Dazai-san figures things out and touches the user. We're stuck here unless we figure out another way to escape."

Disclaimer: I do not own Bungou Stray Dogs and make no profit from this work.

At least it's soft and warm. Two very important positives as Atsushi is lying face down in a very plush king-sized bed, refusing to acknowledge his situation for at least five minutes.

"Weretiger. If you insist on lying there like a louse, I will cut you down as well."

Atsushi mumbles in response that it's better than starving to death in this room. Which, unlike the bed, is almost freezing despite the fireplace alive and crackling off to the side.

"Do not be foolish. We would succumb to dehydration long before then."

"Wow, you're right, that's way better."

Akutagawa's jaw clenches. "And yet you pester me with idiotic statements." He's been at it for nearly a half hour, trying to use the summoned dragon heads of Rashomon to tear down the walls, ceiling, and floor of the room they're currently trapped in. There's not a single gash or blemish even after all the abuse.

Atsushi rolls on his back and rubs his face with his hands, not bothering to respond. Even the room itself is pissing him off since in any other capacity it would be considered cozy with worn brick walls, a lush grey carpet, and said fireplace.

In contrast, the bed is extremely gaudy with frilly red blankets and pillows, which he guesses makes sense considering what they're supposed to be do—nope not going there. That brown dresser full of…toys…was bad enough, and it was the first thing that Akutagawa devoured with Rashomon.

Earlier, they rummaged through it looking for clues, completely unaware of what the objects in it were. Until Atsushi accidentally picked up something very large and phallic-shaped and let out a shriek. Then they both looked over the open drawers and suddenly realized the true purpose of its contents. A roar of black and the dresser was gone. A relief but he'll never admit that out loud.

Atsushi rolls on his stomach again and finally lifts his head after Akutagawa swears a nasty line of curses, squinting his eyes. "Give it up Akutagawa. This room obviously won't go away unless Dazai-san figures things out and touches the user. We're stuck here unless we figure out another way to escape."

At those last words, Akutagawa spins on his heel, Rashomon spooling out like black ribbons. Atsushi hops up and crouches on the mattress, muscles tensing as he prepares for an attack. But nothing happens except a stand-off where both men glare at each other.

Finally, Akutagawa huffs and turns back around. "I wasn't aware you were so eager to attempt the intended method of escape."

He recalls the words in the note written on fancy paper, found wax-sealed in a red envelope. Saliva pools in his mouth as his stomach rolls and pitches at the thought. "No thanks."

"Then you best aid me, or we perish in this room."

"I already did for ten straight minutes and nothing happened. We need to figure out another way." He sits on the edge of the bed and wraps his arms around his legs, as he racks his brain for answers. There has to be some other way out that doesn't involve…that. "Help me think of something."

Akutagawa pauses and clicks his tongue, leaning his head back to look at Atsushi without turning around. "Does Yokohama's brightest detective truly need me?" The words are dripping in sarcasm.

"Asshole. Why do you have to be so difficult?"

"Because I am imprisoned here with you of all people," he snaps back. His normally dull grey eyes dance in the light of the fireplace.

"Not like I wanna be here with you either, ya know." Why does it have to be Akutagawa of all people? They weren't even teamed up for this case, considered too small league to bother with the New Double Black, as Dazai loves to call them.

Atsushi was assigned to it mainly due to his orientation, the assumption that it might prevent him from succumbing to the ability's effects as they're based on sexual desire. Knowing Akutagawa's job and from the briefing Atsushi received beforehand, the same Gifted is a mafia traitor Akutagawa was sent to track down.

The two crossed paths at the last place of sighting in a small port near Port Mafia territory. The suspect appeared standing on a shipping container above them wearing a red ball gown and butterfly mask. The masked glowed a blood red and, without warning, they found themselves in this weird room.

Atsushi gathers that people can be trapped in this space regardless of most else about them as he's proof of that, so the orientation theory is officially out. There aren't any other real similarities between him and the other victims either.

Except for two exceptions that he's managed to deduce. The first: it's always pairs trapped. Second: said pair has to be at least on speaking terms with each other. Case and point, he and Akutagawa fit both criteria.

He straightens up and crosses his legs on the bed, grabbing the opened letter again. There has to be some kind of clue in these words. Something they can use to escape. Maybe some kind of loophole.

"Found anything?"

Atsushi shrieks, face heating up thanks to Akutagawa being right there in front of his face. "Not yet! Give me some space first, jeez."

Surprisingly he does, opting to silently slink on the bed next to him and cough into his hand. Atsushi takes the moment to reread the note.

Take this blessed opportunity to explore each other's bodies, becoming intimate with your fated partner on the deepest level. The bewitching fire will cast a warm glow upon you both once the deed has been done. Then, you will be set free.

God, he hates reading this again. Rage bubbles up in his chest, not only for his or even Akutagawa's sake but for the fact that this person is forcing people to have sex or else they'll die. That's so fucked up. He has to put the paper down before he crumples it, as it's valuable evidence no matter how much he despises it.

"Weretiger. I hope you understand that, no matter what, I will never partake in that act."

Atsushi glances back up, a retort on his tongue, but Akutagawa's expression stops him. Neither his voice nor his face reflects its normal condescension. It's grim, lips pressed together in a thin line, and eyes as sharp as blades.

Earlier, Atsushi questioned why it had to be Akutagawa he was trapped with. But now, he's grateful for it. Someone else who gets him, and it's the person who ironically understands him the most out of anyone. The only person he's ever told about seeing the Headmaster.

If he had been paired up with anyone else from the Agency, how long before they insisted that sex was the only way out? Maybe Ranpo wouldn't have, if he wasn't in Kyouto on a serial murder case, but Ranpo would have this all figured out in no time anyway.

Dazai? He's nearly as smart but way more pragmatic. He might…but then again, the Ability wouldn't work on him in the first place. It's why he couldn't be on the case since they needed to know exactly how it worked. And cycling through the rest of the Agency members, prospects of avoidance are grim.

His stomach violently jostles at the idea of being forced to go through with that, then the guilt hits him. First for risking people's lives over his stupid issues and second for even thinking such terrible thoughts about his friends.

"Yeah, I know. I don't want that either." The first line of the note comes to him again: Take this blessed opportunity to explore each other's bodies, becoming intimate with your fated partner on the deepest level.

Why does sex have to be considered deep intimacy anyway? Everything that Akutagawa and him have shared between them, doesn't any of that count?

Wait. He looks through the note again and again. "Akutagawa. I think I got it."

"Oh?" A delicate eyebrow is raised but again no biting remark is given.

"The note, it never directly mentions sex by name. It's all euphemisms. That has to be the loophole to getting out of here." He lets himself grin, pleased that he figured this out alone.

Akutagawa hums in response, actually considering it. "Then what does 'exploring each other's bodies' and 'becoming intimate' reference?"

The grin is wiped off his face. Shit. He's only now realizing what this means. He rakes a hand through his hair before speaking again. "The intimate part means that…we'll have to open up about ourselves, and learn more about each other."

"What kind of imbecilic solution is this? We, sworn enemies, are to bare our souls to each other?"

Atsushi huffs, hiding the slight hurt that Akutagawa still considers them enemies. "It's not like I want this either but it's the only thing I can think of."

Akuatagwa rolls his eyes. "Should I braid your hair and dance with you as well?"

"I know you're being an ass but…that does sound kind of fun."

"I'd sooner chop up that hideous haircut of yours."

"I'd like to see you try lawnmower—ugh, stop interrupting me." Atsushi buries his overheating face in his hands, dreading the next part of his plan. "For the 'exploring our bodies' part…we probably have to see each other naked."

The tension between them grows thicker as Atsushi's slightly muffled words hang over their heads.

It finally snaps as Akutagawa stands, Rashomon rippling through his coat. "Has it escaped that feeble mind of yours that I am completely defenseless without my clothes? I am to put my life in my adversary's hands while you have full access to your own abilities?"

His frustration surges back, full force. "I know that, I'm just—"

He crosses his arms and faces the wall, dismissing him entirely. "Just what weretiger? I am in no mood to suffer fools today."

Atsushi stands as well, fists clenched at his sides. His fangs are bared, sharp canines digging into his lower lip. "What do you want then Akutagawa? It's either we try this, we fuck, or we die, that's it. If you don't like it, fuck off and come up with something else!"

They glare at each other, neither one giving in. Despite his temper flaring, Atsushi takes in Akutagawa's shoulders, slightly raised from tension. His jaw is clenching and unclenching, a pointer finger tapping his forearm.

Thanks to the few times they've worked together, Atsushi has gotten better at reading Akutagawa. And these signs, while clearly stemming from anger, also represent agitation.

He's genuinely upset.

The revelation quells most of Atsushi's outrage, leaving behind sympathy and a little guilt for not seeing Akutagawa's side sooner. He sighs. "Listen, sorry about that."

The rapid switch over in Akutagawa's expression from pissed to surprise to confusion would be hilarious at any other time. "What are you playing at?"

He meets Akutagawa's eyes, wanting to convey his feelings properly. "This isn't the first time you gave up your coat. During the fight with Goncharov, you entrusted it to me, even though it put you at risk. And I trusted you with something I never told anyone else before." He steps closer, emboldened by Akutagawa's silence, the contemplation of his words. "So, can you please trust me again? And I'll likewise trust you."

The fire's light and shadows dance in Akutagawa's grey eyes as he stares. Tension coiled in his shoulders slowly bleeds out and his jaw relaxes a touch. "Very well."

Atsushi can't hold in the relief from his voice, his shoulders sagging. "Thank you, I—"

He's silenced by a raised finger. "No sentimental nonsense from you. This had better work, or I'll be skinning you for a tiger rug."

"Yeah, yeah I get it. Believe me, I'm not happy about this either."

They both turn away from each other as they strip, to Atsushi's eternal gratitude. Atsushi was worried about the chill in the room being an issue for their soon-to-be naked bodies but finds that it's suddenly warmer. Almost pleasantly so, though with a trace of cool air that makes him slightly shiver.

Both sets of clothing are placed in the same corner of the room, except for Akutagawa's coat which he hangs over his arm for more than understandable reasons.

Atsushi doesn't let his eyes don't wander between Akuatagawa's stomach and thighs as they sit on the bed. This, unfortunately, is easy enough thanks to the multitude of scars littering his arms and torso. Round scars that are likely bullet holes, a jagged one extending down his entire left side, and plenty of smaller ones peppering throughout. A glance at his legs nets similar ones.

His attention is pulled to two particular scars just under his chest, neat and precise in what seems like surgical incisions, not to mention that they're much more recent-looking compared to some of the others. Likewise, Atsushi can feel Akutagawa's eyes hovering over the nasty deep burn scars on his own torso and it makes him deeply uncomfortable.

"We need to settle on what matter of secrets we're divulging."

"R-right I…" He's stumped. How do they even approach this? Neither one of them is exactly open when it comes to their pasts. But it's literally life or death now, so they need to start somewhere. He looks over Akutagawa's scars again, curiosity bubbling despite himself. Of course, he'll be forced to discuss his own but that's unavoidable. "How about our scars?"

Akutagawa is silent, resting his arms on his legs, then nods. "Nothing particularly of note, as most of mine have been acquired through training and battles over the years."

Brushing aside the fact that training gave Akutagawa scars, Atsushi's curiosity burns enough for him to blurt out "Who gave you those scars? The ones on your chest."

"My…chest scars?"

"Yeah, they look recent. Who did that to you?" If there's a tinge of anger bleeding through, he can't help it. What if it was some kind of awful torture training method?

It's fascinating and a little disturbing really, watching Akutagawa's face slowly turn bright red as his eyes widen almost to comical proportions. "You-you, weretiger I—"

He leans in a bit, wanting to impart his support to Akutagawa. "It's okay Akutagawa, you can say whatever you feel comfortable with—"

"YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE MORON!"

Atsushi squints at him. "You don't have to get that comfortable."

"How can someone be this dimwitted and still be employed as a detective!"

His temper starts to flare, cheeks heating with it. "Hey, could you knock off the insults, I'm just trying to sympathize with you asshole!"

"Are you truly so unaware?" His sneer has some other edge to it but hell if Atsushi knows.

"Just cut the crap and tell me—"

"These are top surgery scars you idiot, I'm trans!"

All the fight flushes from Atsushi, leaving a sense of being lost. "Trans? What does that mean?"

He didn't realize how tense Akutagawa had become until he sees the stress physically leave, deflating him like a balloon. "Weretiger, you…do not know? Truly?" There's little trace of anger, just astonishment. Which sounds odd coming from him.

He tilts his head. "I wouldn't lie about that."

Akutagawa scoffs. "Absolutely hopeless as always. Past ignorance is no excuse now, so ensure you research this when we return." The speed in which he bounces back to insufferable is almost impressive if it weren't so infuriating.

"To summarize, it means that I am not the gender that I was assigned to at birth." His back straightens, eyes boring into him. "Know this weretiger. I am a man." His dull grey eyes become alacritous, ready to cut him down if he disagrees. "And nothing else will be acceptable coming from you. Understood?"

But Atsushi is too used to his temper, so it does little to intimidate him. "That's fine. I mean, it's not like it changes anything between us anyway." He nods, the gravity of this not lost on him. "And um…thanks for telling me." Now he has a jump-off point for more research. Akutagawa is right, he's aware of his ignorance now so there's no excuse not to learn more.

"You, there's nothing to—" Akutagawa interrupts himself and rubs his temples. "You're quite vexing." There's no real heat behind the words, so Atsushi counts it as a compliment. "Now it's my turn for a question I believe."

Akutagawa's eyes hone in on the burn scars and Atsushi's blood runs cold in his veins. He struggles to breathe, as the Headmaster's cruel words repeat in his head. The stench of burning flesh, the sight of charred skin, the white-hot agony as the fire poker scorches fat and muscle. But just like he opened up to Lucy, he'll do the same for Akutagawa.

"You want to know about my burn scars, right?" His fingers graze the burns' deep grooves, sending shivers down his neck. "They come from the orphanage I grew up in. I think I knocked over a bucket of water or something while cleaning. So they…" He sucks in a breath and forces the words out before his nerve is gone. "They took a fire poker and burned me with it."

It's silent between them, the only sounds are from Atsushi's rattled breathing. Akutagawa stares, his eyes having long lost its sharpness. Not quite soft but halfway there. "I see. Is this…treatment related to what that American man divulged before, on the Moby Dick?"

Atsushi didn't expect that question—in truth, he had completely forgotten about the whole incident. But now Fitzgerald's mocking words replay in his mind, recounting two of the worst experiences of his life. "Yeah." Atsushi swallows a lump in his throat. "He wasn't lying."

God, this is the worst. He almost wishes he could be normal for a day, or just long enough to have sex and leave this place. He's being flayed alive, his bleeding organs exposed to be seen by his…enemy? Rival? Partner? What are they even to each other now?

Akutagawa sucks his teeth, bringing Atsushi back to the present. "Honestly. What was your mentor thinking? Dazai-san's methods were harsh but had purpose. But this is sheer barbarity." He shakes his head, tone of voice as if scolding a child.

Hearing Dazai mentioned this way, it scares Atsushi. He knows his mentor did bad things while in the Port Mafia. Really bad things. But he believes in him now, not only due to saving Atsushi's life and giving him a family and a reason to live, but in all the good he's done for the Agency and Yokohama.

That doesn't stop his stomach churning, as he prepares himself to ask. "Did…did Dazai-san give you those other scars?" There are just…so many of them all over his body.

Akutagawa coughs then taps a finger on his knee, completely at ease despite the heavy question. "Not all of them. The bullet wounds are from past missions, as well as the long scar on my side."

How can he be so calm about something so terrible?

Atsushi must have been quiet for too long, trying to wrap his head around all he learned, the feelings of remorse, and being forced to come to terms with it (and the fact that he still supports Dazai despite it all).

Akutagawa pinches the bridge of his nose. "God, this is so tedious. You are a deeply uninteresting person."

All Atsushi's sympathy flies out the window, teeth gritted from being insulted out of nowhere. "You're the boring one! Is there anything you do other than killing?"

He snorts. "Unlike you, my hobbies are refined. I assume your feebleminded self only stares at a wall for hours before sleeping."

Something ugly bubbles up in Atsushi's chest. "Better than pissing on fire hydrants, rabid dog."

Akutagawa's coat is back on him in an instant, telegraphing his first attack (that bastard had the nerve to get upset when he could put it on so quickly?). Atsushi backflips off the bed, using its springs to propel him far from Rashomon's blades while transforming his arms and legs.

Akutagawa activates Rashomon's Sawarabi and Atsushi uses the Tiger's claws to slash through the black spikes erupting from the ground. He's undoubtedly improved since their last mission on Standard Island, as it's a trap to lure Atsushi into Higanzakura. The enhanced muscles on his legs kick him up through the black cloth's coils before they can close in and bind him.

Atsushi launches off the ceiling and aims a powerful dive kick at Akutagawa, who activates Devoured Space to block it. One of Rashomon's tendrils grabs his leg and swings him around, then sends him hurtling toward the ground.

Another tendril sharpens then aims at Atsushi, but he grabs it and yanks Akutagawa toward his wound-up fist. More blades fan out and pierce the ground to wrench Akutagawa away from the punch before it lands, while simultaneously sending Murakumo hurdling toward Atsushi.

This back and forth continues for several minutes, with neither one giving any quarter. The familiar rush of adrenaline is heady and Atsushi revels in it. Fighting against Akutagawa, the pain of each slash and stab from Rashomon, the weight of his limbs striking flesh, it all makes his body thrum with life in a way that he can't feel elsewhere.

They stand facing each other, panting, as the fireplace off to their side crackles and spreads its heat over them. Strangely, the room feels colder now, quickly evaporating the sweat that clings to them thanks to their brawl.

The walls and floor are still spotless, not a single one of their attacks marking it in any way, not even the thick carpet. The bed, unfortunately, became another victim of Agito. What a shame, it was so cozy too.

Atsushi's muscles tense up as he senses Akutagawa's bloodlust flare and prepares to attack, but he's interrupted by Akutagawa's sudden coughing fit. It comes from deep in his chest and is powerful enough to drop him to his knees.

The rush from the fight drains from Atsushi and he dashes forward, then kneels to him. "Shit, you okay?" It's probably—no definitely stupid to deactivate his Tiger form, but he does so without a thought.

The hacking coughs continue and Akutagawa shakes with the force of it. But soon it tapers off, leaving behind harsh gasps for air. He looks up, his eyes widening. "Get away from me weretiger!" And uses Rashomon to push Atsushi back.

Atsushi is too turned around to be truly mad but is still plenty annoyed. "What's your problem, I'm just trying to help."

Akutagawa rolls his eyes, voice raspier than usual. "Excuse me for not desiring that unsightly tiger dick of yours waving in my face."

"Tiger dick…?" Atsushi looks down, reminded of his clothless state. His face explodes in heat and he pulls his legs up instantly. "Oh my god, why are you staring at it you pervert!"

"Don't flatter yourself. Your massive…runnion…was flopping about our entire fight, yet I was gracious enough to avoid mentioning it."

"Runnion? Are you just making up words now? And you should have said something sooner bastard!" He's hiding his face in his knees. This is so humiliating, he's never even thought about dick size or anything and now it's all he can think about.

Wait a second. "Hold on, don't distract me. What was that coughing fit all about?"

Akutagawa sucks his teeth again, confirming that's exactly what he was trying to do. "Don't stress your minuscule brain out, it was nothing of concern."

"Stop bullshitting me. People don't normally collapse from coughing."

He turns his head away, jaw clenching again. So Atsushi hit a soft spot.

Atsushi inhales, relaxing his voice enough to soften it. "Listen, you can't hide all this. You don't have to tell me everything but to fulfill the 'intimate' part of the note you have to let me in, just a little."

The silence stretches on long enough that Atsushi is ready to press again, but Akutagawa finally speaks up. "Fine, but only to leave this accursed room." His eyes are neutral again, carefully so as if avoiding too much emotion from escaping through them. "I lived in Suribachi City for many years as a wretched orphan. The air is rancid and my already weak constitution and lungs degraded even further as a result."

Now that Atsushi recalls, Akutagawa has always coughed since the day they met. But to know it's due to sickness, and most likely incurable since even mafia money hasn't fixed it yet. "I'm sorry."

"I don't require your pity weretiger."

"It's not pity. And even if it was, would that be so bad?"

Akutagawa narrows his eyes as an answer and Atsushi sighs. "Okay, god forbid I feel compassion for you or anything. Go ahead and ask me something now."

His stare is flat. "I refuse." He points instead. "Lower your legs."

"Huh, why? You were just crying about my 'tiger dick' flapping around."

"Have you forgotten your own words? According to the note, we must 'explore each other's bodies' which requires you to bare—"

"Okay okay shut up, I get it." He lowers his legs, face heating up again.

"Good. Now you must gaze upon me as well. I know you've been avoiding it."

"Of course I am, I'm trying to respect you—"

"I care not for such tedious things, considering the situation. Get on with it."

Atsushi grits his teeth. Akutagawa is right and he hates it. His eyes travel up to Akutagawa's midsection. Well, uh…it doesn't look like Atsushi's area and that's all he'll focus on. He looks away again since the last thing he wants is a show.

But, as they sit there, he finds himself more comfortable with Akutagawa. The awkwardness never fully leaves but it's much easier to become accustomed to their bare bodies. It's infuriating how little the orphanage taught him about any of this, except that private parts exist but nothing on how they look or work outside of whatever you had.

"What's your happiest memory?"

Akutagawa's impossibly thin eyebrows disappear into his hairline. "What brought on such an inquiry?"

Atsushi shakes his head. "I dunno. Guess I wanted to learn something nice about you too." It really did come out of his mouth from nowhere, but he doesn't regret it. Getting to know Akutagawa, past the cold-hearted mafioso exterior, means understanding that he's a complex person.

"What a foolish question."

No matter how difficult Akutagawa makes it.

"Happiest memory…," Akutagawa nearly whispers to himself, gaze long and focused on the fireplace right near them. It takes a while, as he seems to genuinely consider it.

Atsushi is left devastated—how sad that he has to search so long for a happy point in his life. Not that Atsushi is one to talk. "I'll start first since it's only fair." Not to mention buy him more time to think.

"Guess I'm cheating a little, 'cause I have two memories. The first is at the orphanage. For your birthday they would give you a piece of chocolate, which was like gold there. There was a little girl who had just arrived, maybe about four or five. She got hers and was so excited. I had been scrubbing away at the kitchen floors." His rubbed raw hands clutching the ice-cold washcloth as he scrubbed for hours without break, the sensation still haunts him.

"She walked up to me and poked my shoulder. Without a word, she gave me her chocolate. Put it right in my hand as I sat up to look at her. That was the first time I ever had anything sweet, as I never received anything from the staff." Even now he can taste its gentle sweetness and rich flavor. "She was adopted soon after that but I never forgot her kindness to me, some random kid."

He leans back on his hands and gazes at the ceiling. "The second is Kyouka-chan's welcome party at the Detective Agency. Everyone coming together and her smiling face. It took a lot of planning and work, but it was worth seeing her so happy." The warmth in that room, in that moment he knew this would be his family.

Akutagawa is quiet, letting the words hang between them. But the warmth from the fire is cozy so Atsushi doesn't mind waiting. He eventually hums in response and Atsushi thinks that'll be it. But he's surprised again. "There is one, now that I think on it. Before the Port Mafia, I protected a group of children alongside Gin.

"One of them found a small plot of dirt hidden away and we just so happened to have a few potatoes. We planted a bit of the green sprouting on top and before we knew it, enough was grown to feed all of us. Those plants were our very lifeblood, and we cherished their gifts to us." Akutagawa's eyes shine a bit, not quite a smile on his lips but approaching one. It's soft and suits his handsome features, bringing some youth back into his face.

Then it all twists into a snarl, an expression so abruptly bitter it shocks Atsushi from the peaceful atmosphere they just shared. "That was before they were all slaughtered like dogs."

Atsushi's stomach drops. "A-Akutagawa…that's horrible."

Akutagawa's face smooths out, but his fists are still bunched in the heavy black coat still draped over his shoulders. "Simply the nature of life. Happiness is fleeting, and foolish to chase after."

Atsushi's heart clenches. He's felt this way before when despair was at its worst for him. "But, that's what makes it so valuable right? I mean, after all this time, we still remember what made us happiest. Doesn't that count for something?"

Akutagawa merely hums again but doesn't contradict Atsushi, so he takes that as a small victory. At least he's considering his point of view, which counts for plenty.

The room is downright balmy now and sweat starts to cling to Atsushi's body. He wishes he had something to wipe it off—it's reaching uncomfortable levels. He almost misses it, a small tendril with a tiny dragon head extending from Akutagawa's coat, slowly making its way to Atsushi with something in its mouth. He's frozen, only able to watch its approach.

Akutagawa refuses to make eye contact, which only confuses Atsushi more. Once the dragon head reaches him, it stops, something held in its maw that's wrapped in foil. Atsushi cautiously reaches out a hand, half expecting it to bite him, but it's patient and lets him take the wrapped something before making its retreat back to the coat of origin.

Atsushi glances up again for no reaction, then unwraps it to find a portion of a light brown bar inside. "Chocolate?" No response, so he takes a risk and bites. Chocolate and some kind of nut, he thinks, and the rich flavors melt in his mouth. "Akutagawa, this is delicious!"

Akutagawa finally faces him, not smiling but eyes clearly amused. "You had better appreciate it. It's a pistachio chocolate imported from Italy."

Atsushi nods, eyes almost watering as he finishes the bar off. He's touched that Akutagawa would even give him something like this. "Is this because of the chocolate story?"

He snorts. "It would be a shame if a cheap piece of chocolate was your best experience. That's all."

Atsushi beams at him. "Akutagawa. Thank you."

The fire flares out and covers both of them in an instant as they cry out. But it doesn't burn, simply washes over its light and heat before finally abating. Behind Atsushi, there's a creaking noise and he turns his head in time to see a large wooden door appear in the wall.

It takes a moment for his heart to stop beating his chest and Akutagawa is just as shaken, going by his wide eyes and trembling hands.

"Is that the exit?"

"Must be. It seems we've fulfilled the note's requirements weretiger."

They rush to redress, then Atsushi steps forward to open the door in case it's a trap. At least he can recover from a hit or two. But there's nothing but a blinding white light that envelopes them both and they cover their eyes.

They find themselves at the port again in front of the Gifted suspect.

Said suspect removes their butterfly mask, and dark brown eyes widen in astonishment. "You both returned?" Their voice is soft, slightly accented but flawless Japanese. "And you fulfilled the condition without intercourse. Nicely played."

Atsushi's blood boils at how casually they're treating this, like some kind of game. "Don't give us that shit. You're toying around with other people's lives and for what?"

But their smile only widens. "Why, to finally find someone who will think outside the box, Nakajima Atsushi."

Before Atsushi responds, he catches Akutagawa's eye, then follows when his line of sight shifts over. Dazai is sneaking towards them, completely out of the culprit's view. The pair know to keep them occupied.

"Did you genuinely believe you could escape the Port Mafia, traitor?" Akutagawa steps forward, light coughs following his words.

"I simply grew weary of your bosses' childish machinations. You, however, are much more interesting Akutagawa Ryuunosuke."

"So this was just a game to you? Trapping people until they figured out the right solution?" It's not hard to act pissed off when Atsushi genuinely is, and he sees the same in Akutagawa's expression after the slight at his boss.

"A very fun one at that. You both surprised me, I thought for sure it would end up in some form of hate-fueled intercourse."

Atsushi fights to keep disgust off his face but Akutagawa doesn't even attempt to hide it.

Their eyes shine brighter the more they gaze at the two, their mask beginning to glow just like before. "I want to play with you more! Maybe I should trap you both again, see if—"

Thankfully, Dazai's hand clamps down on the culprit's bare shoulder, his triumphant grin splitting his face. "Afraid you won't be doing any of that, Red Papillion." He pulls the mask from their grip and crushes it under his heel. "Figured that mask was the key to your Ability's activation."

They remain silent even after Dazai lowers them both down and continues to restrain them. Akutagawa takes over to keep them in check with Rashomon, as Atsushi goes off to the side to call in the arrest.

It's an uncomfortable silence as they all wait, with Red Papillion gazing between Atsushi and Akutagawa while muttering under their breath in English.

Dazai accepts the red note from Atsushi then glances over to Akutagawa, watching as he finishes his own phone conversation with who Atsushi assumes is the mafia boss.

His eyes twinkle. "Sorry Akutagawa-kun, but the government wants this one. Can't let you kill them." As if on cue (or most likely because Dazai waited until that moment), a black car arrives on the scene and a pair of government agents emerge.

"I wouldn't have killed them regardless." He remembers…their promise? "However, the Boss will not be pleased with this Dazai-san." To Atsushi's shock, he releases Red Papillion from Rashomon without a fight, leaving without waiting for or giving a response.

Red Papillion huffs a laugh but says nothing, letting the agents take them into custody.

Meanwhile, Atsushi stares at his retreating back. He's not sure what to think anymore, after their experience together. Dazai only gives him a knowing smile but for once doesn't push to tease.

Atsushi comes back to the dorms late that same night, having to finish the report on the case. He gets a 'good work' from the President and Kunikida only scolds him a little this time, which lifts his spirits, though his mind still wanders to Akutagawa and what they both shared in that room.

Kyouka opens the door for him before he even gets the key in the lock. "There was a package in front of our door when I arrived home. It has your name on it." Her voice is as soft as her large blue eyes. She goes to fetch the package from the kitchen, then plops it in Atsushi's expecting hands.

It's a small, plain black box tied together with a white ribbon. Atsushi is careful in unraveling and opening the box, revealing a bar wrapped in foil. The faint smell of nutty chocolate wafts to his nose and he smiles.

Kyouka tilts her head. "Is that from a friend?"

Friend. The word settles in his chest nicely, leaving a warm feeling that reminds him of that room's fireplace.

"Yeah, something like that."

Atsushi: where did you get those scars?
Akutagawa: I have them because I'm trans
Atsushi: gasps Someone did that to you because you're trans?
Akutagawa: barely holding in his urge to kill

Akutagawa: hands Atsushi a pistachio chocolate bar
Atsushi: Is this a candy bar? With nuts?
Akutagawa: Yes
Atsushi: So we're naked and you gave me nuts.
Akutagawa: Yes?
Atsushi: This is too on the nose for me to handle.
Akutagawa: ?

This was a fun fic to write, I hope y'all enjoyed it.