Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ren had been meaning to tell the Phantom Thieves about his part-time gig at Crossroads—he really had. But, in the end, that explanation had never come to fruition, and now it’s simply a secret he shares with a certain Goro Akechi.

It’s a funny story, really, how Akechi even wound up finding out. Well more so incriminating and incredibly telling than funny, but that’s just Ren’s opinion.

One night whilst Ren was tending to a rather lovesick customer—some young woman balling her eyes about another heartbreak, despite the last having been less than a month ago; Ren’s suspecting she may be the cause of her own listless fate—Akechi had waltzed on in, originally attempting to chat with Ohya.

Apparently she had information on a case he was working on, and he had tracked her down to Crossroads for some odd reason.

Ren’s having a hard time believing Akechi of all people would source Ohya for his information—no offence to her. But he is a little bit mad at her for accidentally spitting her drink out into his lap a few days ago when laughing too hard, so maybe it’s deserved.

Ren’s hypothesis is simply that, as a hardworking Prince Detective, Akechi wanted a drink. No harm done. And he doesn’t have to lie about it; Ren’s not stupid!

He’s eighteen, right? Lala would probably have a hard time turning away such a pretty boy anyway. She’s got an eye for potential suitors of Ren’s, and the ace detective is supposedly top of the list. Not like he’s told her they’re already dating; he’ll let her enjoy matchmaker.

Anyway, though he usually enlists the help of the other thieves to curate their extravagant plans, Ren thinks he can pull this one off alone. A plan to see Akechi’s porcelain face finally crack (and hopefully blush; Ren’s counting on it), as well as impress Ohya.

He and Ohya have an interesting relationship, that’s for sure. She’s too much of a mess for Ren to view her as a mentor, and she doesn’t respect Ren enough to see him as a mentee. They’re in this sort of limbo: she blabbers about her work and complains endlessly, while Ren talks about his school life. Honestly, they’d moved past journalism months ago, and a comfortable tension hovers over their conversations.

Ren must just really enjoy tension in his relationships. But he supposes he and Akechi’s tension is a bit more severe than Ohya’s teasing of his love life.

His first day at Crossroads, Lala had proposed that he crossdress while bartending Crossroads, and funnily enough, Akechi had just messaged about meeting up this evening.

Would a red or black kimono suit him more, he wonders…

>> From: Ren Amamiya
(4:55PM)
Hey, Lala, remember when you said I could crossdress at Crossroads?
I think I’ll take you up on that deal (⌒▽⌒)

>> From: Lala Escargot
(4:59PM)
How cheeky.
I’ll have something ready
And perhaps a new name for our new star, as well. I’m sure Ichiko will want some say in this, so expect her to barge into the changeroom like she owns the bar.

>> From: Ren Amamiya
(5:00PM)
Shouldn’t she be punished?

>> From: Lala Escargot
(5:02PM)
That’s the spirit.
Do bring that prince with you. I’ll doll you up enough to ruin his little persona.

(5:04PM)
Unless that was already the plan?

>> From: Ren Amamiya
(5:05PM)
Busted.

>> From: Lala Escargot
(5:06PM)
What an obvious little thief.
Make sure to at least steal that detective’s heart on the way out.

>> From: Ren Amamiya
(5:08PM)
Will do (｡ゝᴗ•)

Ren arrives at Crossroads an hour or so before its nightly opening, smiling cheerfully to himself the entire way. Really, he must’ve looked insane on the train trying to hold down his smile—he’s just excited to see his boyfriend flustered for once.

Even Akechi can’t just brush over Ren in a kimono, right? He’s seen him red from embarrassment on occasion, but this is different! And it's what Ren deserves to see in his incredibly humble opinion.

Oddly enough, Ohya has yet to park herself in her barstool, and the only smug face he sees in the bar is Lala, a rather fetching black and red kimono hung over her arm. Seems he didn’t even need to decide between the colours!

“Hello, Ren-kun,” Lala greets with a conniving little grin, walking over to give him a friendly kiss on the cheek. Ren attempts to bat her away, cheeks dotted a faint pink. She merely chuckles as she leans back, “You know, Ichiko-chan does the same whenever I try to show my affections.”

“Obviously.” Ren huffs, tugging on a strand of his hair, blinking to the side of his vision, “It’s embarrassing.”

“Someone needs to at least.” Lala crosses her arms, letting out a sigh of her own, “You two are such children.”

“Well. I am seventeen,” Ren’s lips quirk into a smile, and he tilts his head endearingly at Lala’s annoyed glance his way. He’s about three words away from getting hit upside the head, and he knows it. “And yet you let me work here! Funny, isn’t it?”

“Do you want the makeover or not, honey?” Lala asks, holding out the kimono for him to see properly. It’s mainly black, with golden outlines along the sleeves and sides, with red spider lilies curling up from the bottom; Ren thinks it matches Joker’s aesthetic pretty well, and his smile must look a little too hopeless, as Lala speaks up again, “I can almost hear your thoughts, Ren-kun—yes, that prince will certainly be swept off his feet with this one. Perhaps a little too much; I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re sporting a diamond ring next time you stop by!”

“You…” Ren trails off. He wasn’t thinking about Akechi, well, at least not directly. Perhaps given a few more moments, his brain would’ve circled back to the detective, but… “You know we’re dating?”

Lala stares into his dumb, loopy expression for a few moments, simultaneously disappointed and fond. “I’m a lot of things, Ren, but not blind. Wedding bells have been ringing for months. You know, your young love reminds me of my own days. It’s sweet, but don’t forget this feeling.”

Ren blinks. There is no reason for him to forget this ‘young love’, but he smiles at the advice all the same. “I won’t, Lala.”

“Good,” She meets his smile. “Now, let’s get started, shall we?”

“Jesus!” Ohya yanks her head away from her third glass of wine, eyes blown wide at Ren coming sauntering out from the change room behind the bar. “You’re like the spitting image of Lala! Like her little protégée! ‘S pretty freaky…”

Ohya had shown up unceremoniously around thirty minutes after Ren had, strutting in and taking her regular seat. Lala had shooed her away from coming behind the counter, alluding to ‘private business’ with Ren, which Ohya had vehemently complained about from then up until the time of the grand reveal.

“That’s no way to talk to our new princess!” Lala chastises decisively, and Ren almost bursts out laughing at how Ohya slumps back over the counter in resignation—but that wouldn’t be very ladylike, would it? “Now, c’mere, honey, take a peek at your guardian angel’s work.”

Lala whips out a pocket mirror, letting Ren hold it in his hands. The second he gets a look at himself, he begins to actually consider Lala a miracle worker, because, for lack of a better term: wow.

The black wig Lala had given him that curls inwardly prettily. Like a longer, tamed version of his typical bedhead. Even the bangs look similar, which Ren hums at, pleased.

No matter, the kimono is even more stunning. As expected, it suits Joker’s colour palette to a tee, and Ren can't help but wonder whether he should at least attempt to wear this in Metaverse—perhaps then he could use Sexy Technique all on his own. Well, tonight he’ll certainly attempt to use it on Akechi…

Ren had zoned out whilst Lala was doing his makeup, which was apparently a mistake, as it’s similarly well done. He should’ve paid more attention, as he’s sure Ann would like her makeup done like this: a soft bronzer, minimal mascara, and a dashing red lipgloss.

“Wow,” Ren murmurs, having been knocked into a daze by his new look—as he hopes Akechi will be too.

“Hey, Ren-kun!” Ohya pipes up, raising her half empty glass high above her head, “Aren’t ya gonna at least serve your most loyal customer before that slimy prince gets here?”

“No need to be bossy to our new server, Ichiko. It’s her first day after all.” Lala crosses her arms, glancing over at Ren, who’s attempting to wrap his head around being called a ‘her’. He supposes it makes sense, but it’s a little embarrassing nevertheless.

Ren pulls out his phone for a moment, holding it to the side as he checks his previous messages with Akechi for confirmation.

>> From: Goro Akechi
(7:49PM)
I’ll be there soon, don’t worry. Just got caught up by Sae.
It’s not that I dislike her, but… seriously? Right now of all times? (¬_¬)
Anyway, I digress; I was surprised when you invited me to Crossroads over Leblanc, however.
What exactly do you have planned by serving me, I can’t help but wonder…
See you then.

>> From: Ren Amamiya
(7:54PM)
Oh nothing!
Don’t keep a girl waiting, though (^. .^)
(also tell me about sae later I always like your gossip)

>> From: Goro Akechi
(7:56PM)
I won’t hold back then.

“Yeah, yeah—gimme some whiskey, ‘cause ya know this girl’s gonna need it.” Ohya emphasises with raising her glass higher.

“Why’s that, Ohya-san?” Ren asks as he brings his head back up, turning around to sort through the many bottles on display. The wig flapping around behind him is new. Is this what having long hair is like…?

“Hmph.” Ohya grouses, leaning against her palm. She’s quiet for a few moments, formulating her complaints, before she bursts back up. Lala lets out a sigh at this little habit of Ohya’s, “M’boss is still working me to the bone… plus, an informant completely ghosted me! Ain’t that crazy?”

“It’s because you invited them here of all places, Ichiko. Surely you’ve got the funds for a nicer place than a bar.” Lala criticises, but this time Ohya’s face grows a little more contemptuous.

“Hey, Crossroads is nice.” Ren comments whilst pouring some whiskey into Ohya’s glass. She nods her head in silent approval, subdued for now.

“That’s my line, honey.” Lala chuckles, “Now why don’t you try serving some of the customers in the other room with your new look?”

“Sounds good.” Ren smiles widely, harnessing all his Joker energy as he readies himself for the other customers. Perhaps he should come up with a stage name for himself…

Somehow, he doubts the patrons of this bar would be sober enough to even remember a name if he did have one.

────────────༺༻────────────

Goro tugs on his collar as he steps out of Shinjuku train station and into the muggy streets. He would hardly say he liked summer, and now is no different. Well, if he had to decide on his favourite month, it would probably be none of them. Winter too frigid, spring too allergy-inducing, autumn too boring.

Though, he does know a certain someone who likes summer. Going to the beach with Ren was a rather interesting experience. Away from the prying eyes of the other Phantom Thieves, Goro was actually able to enjoy swimming—something he hardly has time for, nor an interest in.

Ren was proficient at swimming, apparently having swum in the river bank back at his hometown most days. But Goro’s not willing to draw any conclusions from a simple dip at the beach. He can still beat his boyfriend next time they go.

And Ren looked pretty nice in his swimsuit. If Goro had to pick a word for it, he’d say it was both surprising and incredibly predictable. Which are two words, but Ren’s never been easy to pin down, has he?

Goro didn’t anticipate for Ren to hold much muscle on his lean body, but, well… he cleaned up rather nicely.

He’ll… leave it at that if he wants to at least try to cool down.

Goro can't shake off the odd feeling creeping down his spine as he arrives at Crossroads’ entrance. Of course, anticipation for meeting with Ren would be a good guess, but it’s clearly not just that, considering his track record for his gut feelings being correct. He glances behind himself for the umpteenth time, half-wondering whether he’s being followed.

Perhaps he should attempt to coax Ren somewhere more acceptable for the Detective Prince to be seen once his shift is over. But at least his fans know very acutely that he is now eighteen—honestly, it frightens him how much information is available of himself on the internet, but it comes with the job, he supposes.

Ren is one thing he’d prefer to keep quiet, though. Goro very grudgingly informed his boyfriend’s friends they were dating, and he’s almost certain Sae is beginning to pick up on his better mood as not just being from a good night's rest—a rather lame excuse, all things considered.

If anything, the night before Sae’s question was one where he didn’t get very much sleep. He’s glad Sakura knows to leave the two boys alone at Leblanc, at least, but Goro should convince Sakura to install a door on Ren’s room at some point.

Eyes trained behind him at whoever may be following him, Goro opens the door to the bar, first hit with the uninviting stench of cheap perfume and next the feeling of squeaky tiles against his shoes. His eyes flit up to a new figure behind the bar, outfitted similarly to the owner of the bar, Lala Escargot.

He rakes his gaze over the new server, who has an oddly smug expression weaved across her features. Her hair is black and wavy, kimono fitted nicely—no, hold on, he’s missing something. Something incredibly important.

His hand drops from the door in utter bewilderment, phasing the rest of the bars chatter out as he drones in on her eyes. Goro genuinely might just drop dead here and now. Why is Ren so cruel?!

The eyes are a rather sentimental thing to notice first, his conscience supplies. He wants to strangle it, but he’s not quite sure how that would work.

“Welcome, sir! What can I get for you?” Ren asks in a shrill voice he’s put on. Perhaps strangling his boyfriend instead would suffice.

Goro just gawks for a few moments. And a few more, and up until Ren just bursts out laughing, he hadn’t even realised he was stuck in a trance. Methodically, he slides into a barstool, head staring down at the polished wooden counter.

This… this is what Ren wanted, huh…? To absolutely ruin Goro—

“You know, I didn’t expect you to be this stunned.” Ren murmurs, and Goro finally regains the neck strength to glare at him. His smug smile only grows.

“It’s only natural, sweetheart,” The owner comes over, waving her hand at Ren. Like the spineless idiot he is, Ren nods at this. “A prince can only stay calm for so long in the presence of his princess.”

“That’s a tad dramatic, wouldn’t you say, Lala-san?” Goro manages to get out of his sticky throat, keenly aware of the warmness permeating on his face. He spares another look over Ren’s kimono. It truly is beautiful, mainly black but with gold accenting, and Goro swears he sees spider lilies at the bottom. It would be slightly pathetic, even for him, to lean over the counter to get a better look at the flower patterning.

The outfit is just an accessory, however, to an already pretty boy. Too pretty to be in need of makeup—and possessing too-nice skin to bother with concealer. Goro knows these comments will go straight to Ren’s head, so he must be cautious with the compliments, which are, regrettably, on the verge of being vomited out.

No, actually, he missed Lala’s reply, and now Ren’s staring at him expectantly.

Fuck this. Fuck this so bad.

“I’ve been wondering what my new name should be, considering how fabulous I look.” Ren sighs dramatically, twirling a piece of the wig’s hair. It’s a habit he already had with his normal hair, and yet Goro’s eyes are still fixated on the way his fingers move deftly as they twist the strand.

He lets out a grounding sigh, etching onto his face the best overly sweet smile to counter Ren's. “I wonder, do you have these banal conversations with your other customers?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve only got eyes for you, darling.” Ren’s idiotic grin grows, red lips stretching apart beautifully.

Goro… Goro walked right into that one, didn't he? Somehow, it’s a little worth it… just to hear Ren call him something so endearing.

“Taking a page out of Lala-san’s book, are we?” Goro leans against his palm. He may be putting on his best act of kindness, but his patience is most certainly slipping, and Ren unfortunately knows him better than his Detective Prince persona. He can feel his own kindness snapping under the weight of that damn grin.

“Something like that.” Ren’s smile widens, indiscreetly glancing at Goro’s clenched hand. His gaze meanders back up to meet the detective’s, smug as anything. Honestly, Goro may just have to take him outside right now, because, seriously—oh, now Ren’s right in front of his face.

His brain fog had left him unable to notice Ren leaning across the counter and right into his space. What right does he even have to be so close, especially in public? He’s supposed to be the Detective Prince, unflappable and most certainly not ruffled by an idiotic thief.

God, now he just sounds like an absolute fool.

“You seem pretty distracted, Goro. I’ll get you a drink! On the house!” Ren almost looks like he’s about to kiss him, to which Goro readies himself subconsciously, only for his boyfriend to pull back.

Both Loki and Robin Hood are cackling at him in his mind. His anger has morphed into mortification, and he sort of just wants to fall off a bridge to his doom. But then Ren would have the final laugh at his funeral, and that can't happen.

No, that cannot happen.

“Just because you look stunning in that outfit, sweetie, doesn’t mean you can go giving away free drinks.” Ren soaks in the compliments from Lala; this is probably the best opportunity he’ll have to strangle Ren and win. But he doesn’t, because he is a major fucking sucker—and he majorly… sucks.

Where the hell did all his thoughts go? Can’t he at least formulate a sentence that is unlike that of Takamaki’s or Sakamoto’s—one absent of an unnecessary amount of ‘like’s and ‘genuinely’s?

Maybe he really does need a drink.

Goro’s mind is usually filled with a plentitude of thoughts (and usually they’re coherent), so he can effortlessly shove aside the jumbled mess of them to make his reply seem less stilted. Or at the very least actual Japanese and not a string of curses.

“Rest assured, Lala-san, I’ll pay for my drink. What do you recommend?” He asks, purposely ignoring Ren. Who is still smiling. Ughhh.

He hasn’t exactly had a reason to try alcohol yet—not like his mom would allow it—so this’ll be new. New is certainly not good in this scenario. Ren already has enough emotional leverage, he doesn’t need the addition of a botched reaction from Goro.

“I’ll whip him up something sweet.” Lala replies, eyeing Goro devilishly, before her gaze drifts over to Ren. He looks lightly disappointed by the prospect of not being in the detective’s vicinity, and therefore unable to tease him to hell and back. “Run along; the customers must be waiting.”

“I’m sure they are.” Ren murmurs with an odd smile. Just as Goro reaches the precipice of being able to understand it, he turns away and walks out from behind the bar, leaving him with Lala. Which isn’t any more mortifying, but he quickly understands he’s in for another kind of brain-picking with her.

Where Ren was able to, regretfully, fluster him, Lala is now able to simply interrogate him. Truly, the second he was invited here he should have run.

To his right, the woman who has been glaring daggers at him continues to do so—Ohya-san, if memory serves him correct—with a similarly skeptical look. Right, she was his excuse for scouting out where Ren worked. He didn’t exactly expect for Ren to be there that night. He had even made sure with Futaba he was up in his room, only for that to be a damn lie…

Crossroads is just a cesspit of embarrassing moments for Goro, isn’t it?

“So, Goro-kun,” Lala starts, adjusting her already perfect hair with that frustrating smile of hers. First name too. How presumptuous. “We’ve heard you and Ren are together.” She muffles her wistful smile in her kimono sleeve. Goro’s eye twitches. “Seems his boy troubles have finally cleared—sunny days from here on out, hm?”

Ah, so Ren’s smile was a smug warning? What a nice gesture.

Also, “boy troubles”? Seriously? That’s probably the wrong thing to bring up around Goro, considering he revels in methodically insulting Ren right down to his very core. Arsène always was an overly flamboyant creature—one he swears attempts to wave at him on occasion. Perhaps more pressing than Ren’s odd persona, he’s sensing a serious amount of distrust in Lala’s unsettling gaze.

“Nah, you know what—” The drunken lady interrupts, leaning across the chair separating her and Goro, scrutinising him with her hazy glare, “Didn’t think I’d see the day Mr. Detective Prince started ingratiatin’ at Crossroads of all places! I don’t trust it, even with the two of ya dating.”

Goro clenches his teeth, deliberating his options. On one hand, he can uphold his faux Detective Prince persona and maintain peace, or, on the other considerably more favourable hand, he could call out this sloshed waste of space on her shit and potentially get Ren fired.

Hmm… that’s a toughie.

He’s never supported Ren working at this washed up bar, anyway. Too many creeps are comfortable stalking around Shinjuku at night, and however much Ren wants to pretend his self-preservation skills are superb, Goro doesn’t trust it. Not with the amount of cases he’s seen and worked on of heinous crimes being committed in the various red light districts of Tokyo.

“Don’t worry, Ohya-san, I didn’t come to ingratiate.” Goro smiles lightly, leaning against the counter. It instantly disappears as vitriol infects his words and subsequent scowl, “I would hardly consider such a braindead journalist to be a worthy informant. I have more tact than taking advice from a woman who spends her nights lining her throat with enough alcohol to poison an elephant.”

Ohya chokes on her drink, liquid dribbling down her chin and back into her glass, positioned right by her lips, which just further proves Goro’s point. Seems his assumptions about this woman were correct.

Lala perks up at Goro’s string of insults—honestly, it’s only the half of what he could infer about Ohya’s flaws on looks alone—taking an inquisitive step forward, expression akin to a peacock who’s had their feathers ruffled. “My, my, Ren must like them feisty…”

Goro lets a sigh out to satiate the glare ever-present and directed on the journalist, whose widened eyes have squinted dejectedly. “Ouch, kid… didn’t expect to be downright abused by the Detective Prince, either… Hm… I’m gonna need an extra few drinks on the house to make up for it! That’s your cue, Lala-chan!”

“Good try, Ichiko-chan, but no.”

“Darn.” She grouses.

They probably continue their idiotic banter, but Goro gives up trying to follow along, gaze instead caught on Ren conversing with customers in the room parallel to the bar. His features subconsciously lighten as he outright stares at Ren; it’s so incredibly obvious he’s doing so, and his pride is indeed screaming at him to just look away, but… it’s certainly proving harder than it looks.

Perhaps Arsène has gained the ability to pull enemies into some sort of magnetic forcefield since the last time he accompanied Ren to Mementos. Or, perhaps more realistically, he simply looks nice dressed up, much to Goro’s dismay. If he put even a fraction of this effort into presenting himself for their dates, then Goro would have to well and truly reevaluate his position as “best dressed” by default. He’s not threatened, per se—it would take a lot more effort for that to be the case—he’s simply weary.

But him losing would also hinge upon Ren unearthing the hairbrush he’s left unused for months. Goro’s not willing to bet on such immense longshots, even if he holds faith in Ren during most scenarios.

“She’s made for the stage, wouldn’t you say?” A voice asks at his right, drawing his attention away from Ren making quick work of Crossroad’s patron’s wallets.

To answer Lala’s question, no, Goro would say she’s made for not working in the creepiest bar he’s ever been in (though his sample size is… rather small). Well, perhaps there’s something to draw from her careless statement. Ren does very much enjoy showing off—backflips onto the shoulders of enough enemies to get that point across.

…She?

Whatever. “I suppose in some ways, he certainly is fit for performing. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already theorised ideas for a stage name akin to your own, Lala-san.” A smile eases its way back onto his features. Lala does not appear to be making him a drink, though he’s hardly sure he’d want something deafeningly sweet, but he asks about it anyway.

“I’m saving that for Ren to make for you. She’ll prefer it. Plus, Ichiko-chan and I wanted to chat with you.” Lala admits with a sly smile, placing her either hand in either sleeve of her kimono.

“Always wanted to interrogate a detective. I’ve seen enough PI’s lacking common sense comin’ here trying to swindle me outta info. I may be drunk, but I’m not dumb!” Ohya interjects—a rather nasty habit, her interrupting.

Goro effortlessly ignores Ohya’s yabbering. “Quite the schemer, aren’t we, Lala-san?” He lets out a gentle chuckle, despite both Robin Hood and Loki vehemently reminding him that Ren is behind him. In a kimono. And that he’s hardly going to sleep, even if Ren doesn’t monopolise this to invade Goro’s home. Which he will never not do, because Ren is a despicable vermin.

One which suits red and black exceedingly well.

“To build trust with you, I thought it was best to reveal my cards. The truth is paramount, you know.” Lala answers. This is starting to feel like thinly-veiled relationship advice. None of which would ever work with he and Ren’s relationship.

Revealing his hand would be entirely pointless, as Ren trusts too easily and is entirely too perceptive for his own good. Goro has never really had to tell him anything, as he simply understands the truth on intuition alone. That probably isn’t healthy, but unless Ren gets dumber, there’s no need for him to discontinue his attempt at telepathy with his boyfriend.

“Don’t give him that shit, Lala-chan. I’m sure Ren chose him for some reason we just don’t know!” Ohya adds gleefully. For the first half of her statement, Goro would be inclined to agree with her.

“Forgive a girl for being worried…” Lala huffs shakily, waving her hand.

“Weren’t we going to gossip about Nijima, actually?” Ren asks from behind him, swirling around behind the counter. His presence quells any lasting resentment for Lala and Ohya, but he’s certain this bar at the very least will continue to plague his worries.

Sae’s an interesting story—he does appreciate her company, but he also appreciates not being held back from meeting Ren due to having to offer her advice on cases. Next time he’ll make sure to at least swindle her out of sushi.

“Trouble in paradise with the Nijima sisters, I’m afraid.” Goro lets out an overexaggerated sigh, leaning back from the counter. Ren gives a knowing smile, but still urges for him to continue whilst he grabs the ingredients for his drink. “Sae-san comes to me with her complaints that her sister has been distant as of late, and preoccupied with things other than her studies. I can’t help but wonder what exactly Nijima-kun could be occupied with.”

“No clue.” Ren shrugs. Infuriating, of course, but it is quite literally impossible not to know they’re all Phantom Thieves, even if Ren didn’t end up just telling him. Betraying your team for a good cause, Goro can’t decide whether he was practicing hindsight or just being a truthful idiot. It’s more frustrating that Goro himself is so willing to shield these idiotic teenagers, anyway.

“Nevermind that, she’s just been frustrated as of late. The Phantom Thieves are evading capture, and it’s putting a strain on her conviction rate. I worry for the state of her skin after this case is said and done.”

“Have you done anything with her, then?” Ren tilts his head whilst pouring a mix of orange juice and tequila into a tall glass. Goro’s hardly sure he wants something tropical, either, but he supposes it is summer.

“We visited Penguin Sniper together, and she too noticed my ambidexterity.” A smug smile of his own overtakes his features, “I suppose that means you’re not so special.”

“Well, I noticed it first so she can suck it.” Ren’s lips quirk upward while Goro’s twitch into a frown.

“Futaba-chan’s had too much influence on the way you talk, Ren. You used to be eloquent.” Or, at the very least, he didn’t sound like a 15 year old degenerate.

“I’m plenty eloquent—can’t see the outfit?”

“I do.” Goro murmurs, eyeing the soft bronzer on Ren’s cheekbones. “Your makeup is most certainly helping your bright complexion; I assume Lala-san did it?”

It’s both shooting himself in the foot—giving him the idea of using makeup again—as well as making sure Ren’s head doesn’t get too big. It’s a careful game he plays, unlike his boyfriend, who showers him with gratifying compliments. At least Goro understands this tactic.

Ren flashes him a blank stare before diverting it back down to the drink, wedging a cut orange onto the side of the glass and letting a cherry bob at the top of the sea of orange. Fishing for compliments as usual, which Goro is rather inclined to give, all things considered. “Do you want a straw?”

Now he’s just guilttripping him.

“Sure.” Goro mutters, staring rather contemptuously as Ren places a straw in and slides it over to him. He studies the tall glass for a few moments, watching as the red swirls around and curls to the bottom of the glass, fading away into the overpowering orange—it’s a grenadine syrup, from what he read in the split second he was able to see the bottle. He diverts his lidded gaze back up, eyes trained on any falter in Ren’s expression before he asks his question. “What exactly is this drink named, Ren? It seems rather tropical.”

“It’s a tequila sunrise.” He smiles proudly, toying with a strand of his hair in faux bashfulness. Goro knows this scheming snake would never feel an ounce of shame in debasing him in this decrepit establishment—but he digresses. It looks… appetising.

“Fitting.” He murmurs, spending one last moment staring at the cherry drowning in the drink, doing something akin to readying himself. Nervousness wouldn’t be the term, but… perhaps anticipation? It’s not that he wasn’t not expecting to try a drink when he accepted this invitation, but shouldn’t this be something slightly more special? For some odd reason, he almost wishes his mom were here to say this is an utterly irresponsible decision, and that despite being eighteen, he must take care of himself.

But no. He’s stuck with his evil boyfriend, a bar owner who he doesn’t care enough to distrust, and a drunkard who he’s gearing up to use as his punching bag for the rest of the night. Perhaps under the guise of drunkenness, he can get both him and Ren kicked out of this place.

He sighs, looks around for a moment, bites the bullet, and then takes a sip. Immediately, it's clear that Ren never had any trust in him to begin with, as he can hardly even taste the tequila over the fruitiness of the orange juice and pomegranate extract.

“It’s not bad.” Goro says before he can truly formulate an opinion. It’s not like it's atrocious—he should give credit where it’s due; Ren is actually pretty good at this, despite how much Goro laments that fact—it’s just not really for him.

Ren makes a better brew of coffee when it's just the two of them, while here, the fruity drink he’s made feels like it’s made for the presences around them, rather than just for Goro.

It’s maddening that he knows he’d enjoy this drink a lot more if it were just the two of them. He wouldn’t even mind if they were still in Crossroads over the quiet atmosphere of Leblanc, as long as Ren’s presence is what others seldom see, Goro will be fine.

“Phew, thought you were going to spit out the drink or something.” Ren lets out a sigh, a small smile weaving its way across his features. Goro decides that, even with staying in Crossroads, his boyfriend’s enjoyment is paramount—he can deal with this murky bar for Ren’s sake.

So sappy, Loki murmurs in the back of his mind, but Goro’s mind ignores it, too caught on how pretty Ren does indeed look. Feigned drunkenness does give him a few advantages: being able to slip out of his Detective Prince persona, and being able to give Ren a daring compliment without it leading him to lose their carefully curated game of temperance.

However, he doesn’t really believe Ren would deem his compliments as simply drunken blabbering. A conversation of theirs previously comes to mind, one they had after Goro had been insulted by a drunk colleague at a work event, where Ren relayed his ground-breaking insight—”Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

So, it’ll be impossible to write off. Somehow, he’s losing the will to care. Alcohol or not, he should probably compliment Ren before he weeps for the next week and sock that garish journalist in the same beat.

You’re desperate, too, Loki hisses at him while Robin Hood hums in agreement.

“There’s no need for that. I like it.” Goro answers mildly, raising his gaze from his glass. He’s already halfway through the drink, but Ren still seems unconvinced he likes it—his boyfriend’s lack of self-assuredness confuses him, so he backs it up once more simply to fluster him. “I do like it, Ren. It’s mixed well, and its gradating appearance is visually pleasing.”

He must’ve been laying it on thicker than Ren is used to, as he blinks before it bubbles into a larger smile. “Is drunk Akechi going to just compliment me all night? You sound like Yusuke with the ‘visually pleasing’ thing.”

Goro frowns. “Well, I’m not Kitagawa-kun, and perhaps you should appreciate that fact.” His features even out as he attempts a smile, still tugging at his hair quite frustratedly, “Now, I’d like to try something else. What would you recommend?”

Ren tilts his head, bewilderment much clearer in his gaze without the glasses. It fades soon enough, a sly smile curling up in its place. Goro’s posed an opportunity for him, and can see how his boyfriend’s beautiful brain is concocting his own plan, assuming Goro is none the wiser. Or perhaps Ren’s grown acclimated enough to the detective’s typical plans to know that he’s always going to be a step behind.

With his curiosity and will to act in their previous encounters, shouldn’t he immediately take the bait to see Goro drunk? It’s somehow a less embarrassing situation than having Ren ‘disguise’ him in Kichijoji, and subsequently realising all his fans are fools on the same level as Ren Amamaiya. At least he can then he can pose upping the dosage of alcohol as Ren’s idea, and remove himself of blame. Ba-boom.

“I’ll make something for you.” He tempers his smile down just enough for an unsuspecting bystander to not immediately assume something’s going on between them. Goro’s hardly fooled, but he’ll just wait.

He can’t help but wonder exactly what inebriation will be like. Will it just spontaneously… appear? From all the cringey movies Ren’s taken him to in Yongen, he’ll seemingly just blur out of existence for a few hours. Maybe wake up in someone else’s bed and scream. Ren had already reserved it then—that if he or Goro ever got drunk, they’d only end up waking in each others’ beds.

Goro brushed it off with his typical annoyance and slapped him away, but when he parted ways with Ren, he let himself snort. It caught him off guard, at the very least.

Unfortunately, it’s probable now. It’s not as though he can deny Ren much more, not as he fixates on the black fabric of his kimono swaying as he mixes a few hazy items together. Seems Goro’s already in the midst of blurring out of existence. Shame.

He glances around at the people in the bar, who have hazed away in his vision. He still feels sharp. Perhaps a little… out of his element, but still sharp. His brain doesn’t feel like it’s colliding in on itself—no, that's only when his gaze strays to Ren’s neck, who just so happens to be the only thing in focus for his offset vision. Like a camera stuck blurring anything other than the focal point.

Seems there’s a lot more to learn than just what he’d found from erratically searching for “how to not get drunk” and “how to deal with others when i am drunk” on the train. Because he has to plan for anything with Ren’s spontaneity.

He finishes his first drink, leaning in his palm, the quietness stifling as his ears blot out the sound around them. He hyper-focuses on the clink of the glass as Ren makes him a pale-coloured drink. Another sweet abomination, Goro presumes.

The detective blinks rather pitifully as the drink is placed in front of him, genuinely having not noticed it was done. “Here you go, sir,” A playful smile, “Don’t get any ideas, by the way. Just because you’re the Detective Prince doesn’t mean you're getting my number.”

“Stop role-playing and let me drink in peace, Ren.” He answers curtly, wrapping his lips around the salted rim. It tastes slightly more sour than sweet—much less than the previous drink—but still has a tequila base.

Ren’s eyes are very obviously boring into Goro, but even if the detective attempts to lift his vision, a warmth overwhelms him and his face. Quite an odd side effect.

“After this drink, can I take you back to your house?” Ren asks out of the blue, tilting his hair as he brushes his fringe from his eyes. Perhaps an attempt at looking agreeable from the thief, but Goro’s intent on being a pain.

“What? So you can do indecent things to my unaware self?” He raises his gaze. Ren’s still looking at him with those pretty, unguarded eyes.

His boyfriend stares, red lips thinning out disappointedly. “No, there’s just this girl that’s been looking this way for a while now. I’ll be a gentleman and bat her away if she does pop up.”

“Perhaps she’s staring at you.” Goro poses, knowing what kind of bar this is. After all Ren’s hard work—and partly because his eyes sparkle just a little too kindly in the bar’s jarring light—his boyfriend deserves something from Goro. Other than him orchestrating tripping outside Crossroads due to drunkenness so Ren’s saviour complex will kick in and he’ll half-carry him home.

He tilts his head. “…Why?”

“Because your kimono looks magnificent on your frame, and you are incredibly convincing as a woman.” He postulates, glancing off non-committedly.

“O-Oh.” Ren’s eyes widen, red-tinted lips spreading apart rather prettily. Goro’s becoming more inclined by the second to reach across the bar and slot his lips on his boyfriend’s. None of the people in this establishment are worth retaining his perfect persona for, not even Ren.

“Surely you know this, Ren.” Goro’s shoulders drop as his expression flattens out. “As though you haven’t been parading this fact around for the last hour, and trying to spawn jealousy from me.”

Ren quickly recovers with an even more malicious smile than what was already there. “I’m pretty sure it’s working, Goro.”

“Say what you will, but I am still rather impressed with your outfitting.” He finishes his drink, placing it back against the counter as he fixates on Ren’s lips; the strengthening red quality to his boyfriend’s cheeks in his peripheral tells him he’s noticed this fact. “I… did not exactly mean what I said earlier.”

“Hm?” Ren drops his hand from his hair, and Goro meets his gaze sheepishly. Truly, embarrassment is a new emotion he has around Ren that he’s not all that fond of.

“When I was talking about your makeup, I failed to mention the natural beauty you had to begin with. Truly, your complexion is something to marvel at, as well as your lustrous eyelashes—which do not need mascara or anything of the like, for that matter.”

Ren gawks. And for a solid few seconds Goro’s hit with the largest dose of clarity he thinks he’s ever experienced. Oh god.

The detective quickly amends this with one of the only occasions of stuttering he’s had around him, which only worsens his unbecoming blush, “O-Of course, that isn’t to s-say that…”

He gives up halfway (partly because he hadn’t even known what he was going to say prior to opening his mouth), since Ren’s huge, beaming smile is so utterly distracting that it leaves him starstruck.

“Thank you, Goro.” He smiles, and Goro lets out a shaky breath, wrenching his eyes away sheepishly.

Now Ren’s going to have such a large advantage over Goro in their next conversations post-Crossroads. Fuck. This was such a horrible idea. Dating Ren Amamiya was such a horrible idea. Coming to this idiotic bar was such a horrible idea. And being Goro Akechi was, by far, the worst idea of them all.

“I… It’s best I be off,” Goro pipes up; Ren tilts his head, and the detective attempts to ignore the smugness written over his lips. “Apologies. I have work tomorrow morning, as do you school.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday, Goro.” Ren snorts. This fucking thief.

“Nevertheless,” Even tipsy, he can plaster a kind smile on so easily. “I should be heading off. Thank you for the drinks.”

He physically can't spare Ren a look as he bolts out of the bar, just barely remembering to take his briefcase with him. He shoves the heel of his palm against the left side of his face, cursing himself a thousand times over for being so utterly careless.

Laughter follows him out of the bar, and Goro whips his head to find Ren.

“You haven’t paid yet, sir!” Ren practically buckles with giggles, and Goro lifts his gaze irately.

“You followed me out here for that?” He grits, throwing his briefcase angrily at Ren’s feet. However, he overestimates the strength present in his throw, and it ends up clattering against the ground right before Ren.

“Nice try, but,” Ren’s fancy, stupid, tempting kimono waves as he steps to the side, “I think you know why else I came out here.”

Smug bastard.

“Mm,” Goro smiles faintly, taking a step forward as he attempts to regain control over the situation. “And why is that?”

Ren meets his smile, pressing onward and slotting his lips against Goro’s. His body relaxes, and he almost falls forward into his boyfriend, but manages to catch himself and his growing daydreams.

Goro licks lazily at Ren’s lips, revelling in the light taste of cherries left from his lipstick. His hand comes up, pressing reverently into Ren’s black curls, manicured nails scratching at his scalp. Somehow, he’s far more gentle with Ren when tipsy.

“Haha,” Ren’s laughter breaks through their kiss, and just as Goro’s tongue was verging on invading the thief’s mouth. It leaves him frustratingly disappointed.

“Why are you laughing.” He grits, nudging the abandoned briefcase by his feet toward Ren. Anything to avoid his gaze directly. It reminds him of Medusa—as under Ren’s uncovered eyes he really does feel like he’d be turned to stone. Or perhaps just lean in for a kiss like a sailor captured by a siren. Hard to say.

No, Goro feels like a wet cat personified under his gaze. That’s it.

“No reason,” Ren grins, before giving a very real reason, “I thought the Detective Prince wouldn’t want to be caught conversing like this with a known Phantom Thief.”

“Is that what you call this?” Goro huffs, crossing his arms.

“I don’t see any other name for it.”

Goro rolls his eyes—as if he needed a reminder of how utterly frustrating Ren is. “Well,” He proposes, “What if the Detective Prince enjoys the thrill?”

“That sounds like something a thief would say.” Ren chuckles, dragging Goro back over for a kiss by his tie. How humiliating.

The kiss deepens, and Goro, uninhibitedly, murmurs against Ren’s mouth, “Don’t go this time.”

The thief’s lips still for a moment, and Goro takes his opportunity to capture them in his teeth. He thought Ren would know by now not to let his guard down around him, but apparently not.

Goro shoves his tongue forward forcefully, having lost all sense of gentleness he thought came with his tipsiness. Ah well, Ren’s a Phantom Thief—isn’t he supposed to be equipped with some pain tolerance? Some enjoyment for rebellion?

With the way Ren is gasping and panting into his mouth, Goro would say he’s right on the money.

“I won’t,” Ren attempts to murmur into their conjoined mouths, but Goro bites it down by pressing forward, slamming the thief’s back against the wall outside. His eyes glisten so prettily as Goro moves back for a moment, readjusting his angle before diverting his mouth straight toward Ren’s neck.

Of course, the kimono’s neckline covers the junction where Goro wants to bite, but he has too much saliva sticking to the back of his throat, and Ren deserves to feel as uncomfortable as he does now, so he simply slobbers against whatever skin is peeking out.

“That tickles, Goro!” Ren jerks, yanking him away by the hair. Apparently his tongue was a little too much. They’ve done worse, anyway.

“Deal with it.” Goro’s lips twitch into a frown, fingers coming up instead to run along the white fabric of his haneri.

Ren’s lips twitch into a wide smile, and Goro suddenly feels entranced by its beauty. He’d go broke attempting to pay Ren to smile like that all the time—and partly because the thief would utilise his smitteness to his own benefit. Bastard he is.

He pulls Goro’s head down with two hands crutched on his jaw, happily pressing one more kiss to his forehead—and yet the detective can sense some announcement of departure in it. “Stay here, my prince,” Ren murmurs against his forehead before leaning back with flourish, “I’ll be back.”

What a dramatic fool.

And yet Goro’s face still hums warmly, even as he watches Ren dart back inside. He honestly wonders what he did to deserve being tortured so heavily by this boy.

Perhaps he should be worried about outright making out with Ren in public—especially with the security camera hanging above their heads—but Goro can’t bring himself to care. In fact, he’s getting antsy just attempting to wait.

He drums his fingers against his thigh, fixating his gaze onto his briefcase left on the floor.

“I’m back.” Ren says warmly as he walks back outside, changed into his regular attire. Unfortunately, that means no more lipstick—but at least his eyelashes aren’t being presented as longer than Goro’s.

He barely gets one step out the door before the detective jumps on him, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him forward into another kiss. This time, Goro takes the reigns, made much more confident as he presses forward.

Ren’s lips part habitually, and his hands carefully come up to cradle Goro’s hands, fingers tickling the strands of his hair.

“You still taste sweet.” He murmurs against Ren’s lips, picking up the aftertaste of his lipstick. His boyfriend turns a beautiful rosy colour as Goro brings his finger over his soft lips.

“Uh—Thank you?” He chokes, chin dropping down bashfully.

Goro keeps his thumb there for a few more moments, before eventually dropping it back down to his side. He brings his gloved hand over to Ren’s, gently intertwining their fingers.

He holds up their interconnected palms, face still rather pink. “You wanted to take me home, correct?”

Ren’s eyes widen marginally, lips parting before he smiles softly. “Yeah. I did say that.”

“So be it.” Goro shrugs, tugging Ren into step with him, “But be sure to get my briefcase.”

“Of course, my prince.” He snorts.

As he recounts the night, Goro has to acknowledge how he embarrassed himself to hell and back, as well as encouraged Ren’s antics for the foreseeable future. There is no way he will ever be coming back to Crossroads.

Well, except to get Ren fired. Don’t think he’d forgotten the danger of Shinjuku.

It’s far safer for Ren to dress in drag privately for Goro.

Chapter Text

“You’re like… 100% sure Akechi’s out there going for other girls—not just for a drink or something?” Futaba’s concerned tone is obvious over the phone line, but Makoto doesn’t bother commenting on it. She wouldn’t exactly understand, either way, that Makoto’s gut feelings are typically correct.

Perhaps it's her own righteousness telling her what to do, but she knows cheating when she sees it. If Tsukasa clued her into anything, it was that love-bombing was more common of an occurrence than previously thought, and that it could happen to anyone. Eiko was a strong girl, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t caught up in her rose-coloured haze.

Ren could quite easily be another victim of such a scam, and she didn’t exactly trust Akechi not to take advantage of her leader’s naivete in pursuit of information and whatnot. Makoto can’t even begin to fathom what the detective has already swindled out of Ren, other than misplaced affection.

But it ends here, with her plan and Futaba’s aid. She’ll show Ren that Akechi is a cheater.

“Positive.” Makoto answers, tempered fury bleeding through her words. “That’s why I’d like for you to hack into Crossroad’s security cameras and take a few photos. We’ll show these photos to Ren tomorrow morning, and make sure he’s safe, alright?”

“Uh… ‘kay. Guess it’s for the best if it is true.” Futaba mumbles, speedy typing coming in as Makoto remains parked by a corner near the bar. A few tense moments go by as she scrutinises the bar from afar, features pinched tightly before a gasp on the other end of the line draws her away from her anger. “Hey, wait! He’s totally chatting up some waitress behind the counter! You were right, Makoto!”

Makoto blinks. She didn’t really want to believe her hypothesis was correct, considering it would hurt Ren, but she’s glad she can bring another situation of cheating to light. “Alright. I need you to remain vigilant, and take photos from the cameras once they come out of the bar, is that alright?”

“It’s fine! Futaba’s on the case! I’ve got all night, anyways, unless Mona tells me to sleep—but that’s usually only by 12!”

Worrying sleeping cycles aside, Makoto’s glad she can bring Ren to justice in her own way, just like he’s done for her countless times.

────────────༺༻────────────

The Phantom Thieves meet up the next day at Shibuya station’s walkway, all with varying degrees of worry etched onto their features. Makoto had informed them on a separate group-chat of the situation last night to much shock and subsequent anger.

>> From: Makoto Nijima
(8:21PM)
Good evening everyone, sorry for messaging so late, but I have some pressing news regarding Akechi and Ren…

>> From: Futaba Sakura
(8:21PM)
ren’s gonna flip when he finds out
hes like crazy whipped for him

>> From: Ann Takamaki
(8:22PM)
Uh, what’s happening?

>> From: Futaba Sakura
(8:23PM)
AKECHI IS CHEATING ON REN (ᗒᗩᗕ)!!!
spread the word!!!

>> From: Ryuji Sakamoto
(8:23PM)
HUH??

>> From: Ann Takamki
(8:23PM)
Wait, WHAT!?

>> From: Yusuke Kitagawa
(8:23PM)
Oh my!!!

>> From: Futaba Sakura
(8:24PM)
man even inari’s speechless Σ(°ロ°)
& he talks all the time

>> From: Makoto Nijima
(8:24PM)
It’s as Futaba says.
We’ve gained photo evidence that shows Akechi flirting with a waitress at the bar in Shinjuku called Crossroads.
I know this is a surprise, but I’m planning to show Ren the photos at Leblanc tomorrow morning, and I feel it would be beneficial if everyone was there to comfort him.
I can only imagine how crushing this will be for him.

>> From: Futaba Sakura
(8:25PM)
he’s gonna get all flamboyant depressed…
someone get him his chaise lounge b4 we’re critical hit with mopey joker!!

Makoto begins debriefing the situation on the way there, attempting to keep both the anger and hypocrisy hidden in her tone. “Once we get there, we need to try and remain calm. For Ren’s sake, okay?”

“Man, when I see that snobby detective’s face again, he’s gonna get it!” Ryuji grumbles, holding the bag of ‘mood lifters’ Ann had insisted on when they passed through the supermarket.

Much to Ann’s taste, it contains two tubs of ice cream as well as red box hair dye. It’s… slightly wishful thinking to assume any colour would show up in Ren’s black locks without bleach, but it was too sweet for Makoto to object to.

“Don’t worry, Makoto! I know all about how to comfort a broken heart—Ren’ll be back to better in no time!” Ann adds with a hearty smile.

“From where…?” Ryuji raises a brow, much to Ann’s chagrin, “When’ve you even had a boyfriend?”

“Uh… from movies?” She answers sheepishly.

“I’m worried for Ren’s mental state after this revelation.” Yusuke adds pensively, a hand held by his chin, “Ren is likely closer with Akechi-san than he is with any individual one of us, so I can only imagine the throes of mental instability he will be thrown into without that comforting presence…”

“Well, it just means we’ve gotta stick by him extra hard from now on!” Ryuji beams. A presence like his will be key for helping Ren in Makoto’s eyes. She hasn’t dealt with a breakup personally, but… loneliness is likely to be a common symptom, right?

They’ll all have to be there for him. And, if push comes to shove, knock some sense into him if he still wishes to stay with Akechi.

“Your positive outlook will most certainly comfort him, Ryuji.” Yusuke meets the blond’s smile, essentially relaying Makoto’s thoughts.

“You bet!” He grins.

“Oh,” Ren’s eyes widen as the thieves practically knock down the door of Leblanc. The café is completely empty, save for Futaba’s smug presence and Sojiro’s confused one. “Futaba was telling me you guys would be coming around early. Didn't give me any details, though.”

Ren is standing behind the counter, tending to the coffee while glancing warily at Futaba’s grin. Soon enough, however, his world will be knocked upside down—though perhaps she’s giving Akechi’s presence in his life a little too much weight.

For his sake, Makoto would prefer if they eased into it, considering Ren’s typically-hidden feelings are at risk of spilling over. God, she can’t help but be curious over the sight of him crying. Again, getting ahead of herself.

“At least take a seat before you all explode.” Sojiro mutters, snapping the group out of their varying amount of resentment toward a certain detective. Ren’s gaze catches nervously on them and the bag in Ryuji’s hand, moving his attention away from the brewing coffee.

“Ah, yes.” Makoto begins; would breaking the news in front of Sojiro be too cruel? “Is it alright if we take Ren upstairs, Boss?”

Sojiro’s eyes narrow. “Sure. Bring him back in one piece.”

“Uh, what’s happening?” Ren asks quietly, hanging his apron up and coming out from behind the counter.

“You’ll see!” Ryuji grumbles, crossing his arms. Ann stares at Ren with worry strung between her brows, while Yusuke’s expression holds a low anger.

“…Right.”

Once upstairs, the air doesn’t grow any less stifling in its worry; all eyes are on Ren as he sits down on the couch in his lonesome, other thieves sitting around the main table.

“This feels like an interrogation.” Ren notes with a faint smile. Futaba lets out a giggle at this—Makoto is almost tempted to shoot a glare her way.

Considering the severity of the situation, she seems a little too… flippant about Akechi having cheated on Ren. Morgana too, as he hasn’t even gone over to Ren, instead curled up in Futaba’s lap.

She would’ve assumed comforting to be in order, no?

“Uh, Ren, we’ve got some stuff to show you… and we've got stuff to make you feel better too!” Ann begins with a half-hearted smile, gesturing to the grocery bag sitting on the table.

“Don’t worry, I have experience with this from Tsukasa—ah, a friend’s boyfriend who turned out to be swindling her out of money.” Makoto clarifies as the group nods along. Futaba’s grin only grows more snide.

“Ugh, that guy?” Ren groans. A few moments later he begins blinking rapidly, “Wait, what does he have to do with this exactly?”

“Well… let me just show you.” Makoto reaches into her skirt’s pocket, placing the photo evidence on the table. Three photos, one from a security camera within the bar at a high angle, another closer to the bar in the corner, and one of the woman and Akechi conversing outside the bar. “We have evidence that Akechi has been meeting with another woman at the Crossroads bar.”

Ann perks up at Ren’s bewildered look, “And we’re all here for you! W-We got you the key items for break-up recovery: ice cream and hair dye!”

“We will be here with you every step of the way, Ren. Lean on us like we’ve leaned on you many times before.” Yusuke corroborates eloquently.

“Yeah! Now we’ve got even more incentive to take down that ‘effin detective!” Ryuji cheers—again, slightly mean to be laughing when Ren is clearly so distraught. “Stupid effin’ heater…”

Ren simply stares at the three laid out photos for a moment, studying them. Makoto and the other thieves are all staring at him, anticipating some reaction. Will it be loud and angry? Quiet and brooding? Or perhaps tears like Makoto had been subconsciously counting on?

Well… not weirdly! Ren’s seen her sad, so don’t they all have the right to see him as such…?

Instead, he smiles widely. “You guys are all such good friends.”

Quite the adverse reaction, one which annoys Makoto ever so slightly, but she compartmentalises that it’s at least better than him being inconsolable.

“Ren, chop chop and tell ‘em!” Futaba interjects, kicking back and forth restlessly in her seat. Makoto’s gaze pierces through her—surely her tone is insensitive and may offend him?

And, tell them what?

“I thought you’d already told them about Crossroads!” Morgana yelps, and Ren shoots him a helpless look.

The anticipation in the room only heightens as every thief leans in, eagerly awaiting the grand reveal of… something new. Makoto’s also readying her arguments as to why Ren should not be taking back a cheater, on the off chance he’s lost all dignity.

“Okay, so…” Ren trails off, clearly deliberating his words. He sighs—an oath to simply saying them outright. “So… the woman in the photo. She’s me.”

The group simply stares, and Ann is the first to choke out a “What?”

“Yeah. I work at Crossroads, and Lala, the owner, sorta said that I could earn a bunch of tips in drag like she does.” The silence in the room is staggering, and Makoto can’t help but feel that the air has been knocked out of her lungs. “Plus, I did it to embarrass Goro, but I guess that isn’t relevant.

“Man, you guys are dummies.” Futaba answers first, completely unbothered as she ruffles Morgana’s fur. So… she knew? “Deathly loyal dummies, but still dummies.”

“Hey, don’t blame them, it’s funny! Wonder what Goro would say, though…” Ren contemplates openly, leaning against the table.

“Stop thinking about him for one second, Ren!” Morgana adds grumpily.

“No can do, Monamona.” Ren reaches over to ruffle his fur. It’s clearly much more comfortable than Futaba’s death grip on his fluffy body.

“Wait… so we…” Ryuji comes down from his shock first, eyes narrowing before shooting open, “We staged an investigation on Akechi cheating on you with… you?!”

“Seems like it.” Ren grins.

“Makoto was the one doing the investigating, Ren.” Futaba explains with that wicked smile of hers. Makoto’s too flabbergasted to even attempt to explain her reasoning. “Weeeeell, I honestly thought it was true that Akechi was a no-good cheater. Plus I’m pretty sure I was just sick of you going on about him all the time!”

More than anything, she’s annoyed her hunch was… wrong. And that Akechi of all pretentious people fooled her…

“I don’t talk about him that much, do I?” Ren tilts his head, directing his gaze to the audience, who are still quietly mortified.

“Uh, you do, and after Makoto told me to take the photos, I asked Mona about it! He told me you worked at Crossroads, and about all your weird rival sexual tension.”

“Don’t worry, we sorted that out at his place afterwards.” Ren winks.

“TMI!” Ann squeals, next to be dragged out of her shock-induced stupor.

“Gross.” Futaba hunches back in disgust.

“Yeah,” Ren murmurs, pressing a hand to his chin. “We went to his apartment after he got blackout drunk. He took all the bedcovers, y’know.”

“And your virginity?” Futaba butts in with a massive smile. The entire group eyes the two with varying levels of embarrassment.

“Da-ding! One point for Oracle!” Ren animatedly high-fives the girl, who lets out a cheeky giggle following.

“Wait, Prissy Mr. Detective Prince can get sloshed?” Ryuji asks, jolting back on the wooden bench in surprise. Truly, it must’ve been a spectacle—and largely incriminating, which leaves Makoto intrigued. But, mainly she’s glad that the conversation has moved past the thought of Ren and Akechi… conversing.

“Mhm. He couldn’t resist my bartending skills.” Ren gloats, lifting one shoulder cockily.

“Or the kimono! Aren’t we supposed to be talking about that!?” Morgana adds.

Yusuke turns his head marginally as his thoughts clear and expression lightens, speaking up next, “Excuse us, Ren. This was rather… unbecoming on our part. I apologise for accusing Akechi-san of anything as severe as cheating on you—I’m sure he cares for you deeply.”

“Deeply’s putting it a little lightly.” Futaba comments quietly. Ren shoots a smug look her way.

Ren’s eyes drift back over to Yusuke’s apologetic smile after a few moments. “Thanks, Yusuke. Just so you know, though, I’m still going to tell Goro about this.”

“Dude, he’s gonna make fun of us for the rest of tiiime!” Ryuji whines, slumping forward and crashing his cheek against the table.

“I thought you didn’t care about his opinion?” Ren prompts, leaning his cheek in his palm.

“I don’t! I just don’t wanna be talked down to like I’m an ‘effin ant!” He grumbles petulantly, “He’s so darn good with words… it makes me sad.”

“Agreed… he insults us without me even realising it!” Ann nods with a similar pout.

“Wait,” Ren's eyes widen as he turns to Makoto, who’s only half been concentrating over the sound of her resounding embarassment, “How did Goro not see you, Makoto? You absolutely suck at following people.”

Makoto’s own eyes widen as she jerks back. “H-Hey! I do not suck at following people.”

“Ya kinda do. Hiding behind a magazine ain’t exactly stealthy.” Ryuji adds blandly, as though it’s already a set-in-stone fact.

“It’s okay, though!” Ann comforts with a huge smile, “It’s cute that there’s even things that you suck at, Makoto!”

“How is that cute!?” She exclaims. Perhaps a little too loud, though it’s hard to remedy it with everyone looking at her and on the verge of laughing.

“Super cute, prez!” Ryuji snickers, before getting promptly struck up the side of the head by Ann.

“Don’t be weird, Ryuji!”

“B-But you…” He murmurs, eyes swelling like those of a beaten up puppy, soon transforming into that of a fiery canine’s as he brushes them off, “Well, whatever!”

“Aren’t we going to talk about Ren’s outfit!?” Morgana adds again, more huffy than last time.

“Eh, not as weird as Akechi bein’ drunk on a random Saturday evening.” Ryuji reasons.

“Yeah, pluuus,” Ann drawls with a smile, turning gleefully to their leader, “Ren seems like the kind of guy to crossdress! Makes sense!”

“Indeed.” Yusuke nods pensively, “Additionally, I predict that you looked stunning in that kimono, Ren. You have the perfect frame for an elegant garment—so much so, that I’m feeling inspired to sketch!”

“I… agree, too.” Makoto murmurs, sparing a glance into Ren’s annoyingly confident eyes, “I apologise for accusing Akechi so readily, and I assume you looked very handsome in that kimono… or, uh, pretty?”

“Both!” Ann grins.

“It’s alright.” Ren meets the group with a slight smile. “Man, you guys give way better compliments than Goro does.”

“Looking like a killer drag queen, Ren! As such, I, Futaba, shall conceptualise your new drag name free of charge…” Futaba beams, giving less than a second of consideration before she pops out a new name, “Black Condor!”

“Sorry Futaba, but I can’t have my drag name be from Phoenix Ranger Featherman.” Ren leans back against the couch, slumping into its springy (and collapsing) cushions.

“Weeeell, it would go over pretty well with Akechi!” Ren blinks before leaning forward, “He’s a major nerd for Featherman! Obviously he’s not number one like me… but he knows a bunch about it!”

He settles against the wooden table, lips worryingly close to a smirk. Somehow, Makoto is already feeling worried for Akechi…

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

────────────༺༻────────────

“You’re telling me your idiotic friends assumed I was cheating on you, and not that you’re a debauched fool?” Goro raises the mug of coffee to his lips, humming at the familiar taste. Ren’s glad to see them back in Leblanc—however much fun he had teasing him at Crossroads, he enjoys the cafe more. But, it makes sense that Goro might just be sick of being at Leblanc all the time, so he wanted to spice it up for his boyfriend’s sake! “You have them fooled better than previously thought.”

“They’re our idiotic friends, Goro.” Ren dries the wet mugs he’s lined up on the counter, placing them back in the cupboard.

His boyfriend lets out a huff. “Are you seriously this adept at glossing over my insults? I suppose your teammates’ loyalty is rather impressive, but it… annoys me all the same. Train your dogs to not attempt to nip me every time I’m around, Ren.”

“Hey, they were trying to protect me from big, bad Detective Prince. You do froth at the mouth a little in Mementos with me.” Ren pops up from behind the counter, smiling.

“You’re certainly the least trained mutt of them all.” Goro mutters into his mug, expression somehow tamed despite the words being spat out. His Detective Prince persona really is something to marvel at—and Ren especially enjoys the sardonic nature of his voice whenever Goro sweeps through insults in that overly kind tone.

“Last I checked, they have not seen me in Mementos,” Goro continues with a raised brow, a frustration clawing under his expression. “Unless you have finally told them you trust the detective promoting the manhunt for the Phantom Thieves with those same vigilantes’ identities?”

“It’s part of my very well-thought out and ingenious plan, and maybe I just wanted to think about how pretty you are going crazy,” Ren sighs wistfully, picking back up the cloth and mug. “Ever thought of that?”

“I think about how you’re an idiot, typically. And I really doubt your plan is this foolproof as to not incriminate yourself.”

A few seconds go by of silence before Ren lets out another arguably more wistful sigh, “You know, you haven’t yet complimented me on how dashing I looked in a kimono…”

“Irrelevant.” He raises a finger in Ren’s direction from around his mug’s handle.

“How can you call the sparks flying between us ‘irrelevant’, Goro?” Ren prattles on, enjoying how his boyfriend’s face grows more irritated by the second, “Haven’t you seen the chemistry between us? How I can practically read your thoughts—and right now they seem to be pretty damn romantic. Have I ever mentioned how we practically finish each other’s sentences—”

As soon as Ren let his eyes slip shut, allowing himself one mere thought of his boyfriend’s dumb blush at Crossroads, Goro’s hand cuts through the air, yanking Ren forward by his apron and crashing their lips together. Ren unconsciously melts into Goro’s strong hold, half-wondering whether he’s going to fall over the counter or not.

Goro tastes like warm coffee with an undercurrent of… strawberry, which he gladly acknowledges as his lip balm. Ren decides at the last minute it’s slightly… unorthodox to just lick Goro’s lips, but unfortunately his boyfriend is a major asshole and monopolises his half-outstretched tongue to prop open Ren’s pliant mouth.

After what feels like eternity, they pull back. Ren still wants to lick his boyfriend’s lips, but maybe a little later…

Pride replenished from Ren’s owlish expression, Goro outright grins, following up with a snark, “That’s compliment enough. Now why don’t you get back to drying those dishes like a good servant?”

“Kinky. How unexpected from my Robin Hood.” Ren’s lips stutter into a smile.

“...Are we seriously doing that?”

“Well, I’ve got like a billion personas, so take your pick.”

Goro tilts his head, faint smile clueing Ren into the fact that he had just made the incredibly wrong decision of letting his power-hungry boyfriend have a leg up over him in conversation—a detrimental occurrence when talking to the Goro Akechi. Ohya learnt her lesson with him, and now he will too…

Eh, he kinda likes it, so he’ll be fine.

“Very well then, Mara.”

Ren blinks. “Who?”

“Shame,” Goro’s smile lilts maliciously; Ren narrows his eyes marginally, “You haven’t met that shadow yet. I assure you, it’ll fit you perfectly.”

Somehow, Ren doesn’t feel inclined to believe his always kind and caring boyfriend on this one.

“Does ‘Mara’ have something to do with your Featherman obsession?” Ren asks with his best attempt at neutrality.

“Futaba.” Goro grits, and Ren subsequently bursts out laughing at his scrunched up expression.

He leans forward, lips curled mischievously, “Don’t trust her with your secrets.” Ren murmurs against his forehead as he presses his lips there.

Goro’s frown only strengthens. “I hate both of you.”

“I’m sure you do.”