Summary: Goro, blackmailed to work when he's supposed to be on vacation, is Tired and Horny.
Note: I saw art of Akiren in a Chinese dress and, without bothering you with the details, this ended up happening.
I'm pretty sure I was hijacked by three separate entities while writing this and each one of them wanted something different so this fic changed its mind about what it wanted to be at least twice at some point during the writing.
Also this is self-indulgent as shit and exactly Zero Effort went into it.
Warnings: Pretentious Title Is Pretentious (But This Is How I Roll Really), Summary Started Off As Joke Summary But Here We Are, Spies, Yakuza, Goro Is Tired™ And Horny™.
Disclaimer: Don't own P5.
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There were multiple things Goro could be doing with his time right now. Like shovel food down his throat. Or balance a tower of pens on his nose. Or sleep for three days straight.
Instead, he was dragged (by way of blackmail) from his well-earned vacation by a deserting spy from the same agency as him to help them out with something.
That was a week ago.
So far, the only rewards he'd received for his efforts were to be almost murdered on multiple occasions (nothing new), forced to jump off a skyscraper to get the key to the locked room a hostage was held within along with a timed bomb (also nothing new), blackmailed to parade around a beach in a bikini (it wasn't even in a color that suited him!), among many other things.
It all culminated with him tracking his target down (finally) into a nightclub called Leblanc.
He took a deep, fortifying breath, adjusting his (stolen) borrowed leather jacket before he checked his reflection in the side mirror of a nearby car to make sure his make-up was on point, and to secure the hair tie keeping his hair up in a ponytail.
Now that he was sure he was ready to go, he shoved his hands into his pocket and adopted a haughty expression before heading to the entrance. The bouncer stopped him, requesting his name. Instead of answering, Goro sneered and flashed him his 'invite' card.
The bouncer allowed him entry, and he walked past. He wondered if it was suspicious that the bouncer let him enter with his stolen card. But just to be cautious, he was treating the situation as if he was walking into a trap and was about to be ambushed any second.
He walked through the club, dodging the people milling about, chatting and laughing as they sipped at their drinks and watched the dance floor, and carefully avoided the writhing mass of people on the aforementioned dancing area, knowing from experience that it was one of the greatest hazards he could face on his mission- if he got pulled in, there was a high chance he wouldn't find his way out in time.
His target was among that mass, but before he could start on staking out the dance floor while he waited for his target to emerge, he knew he needed to talk with the owner of the nightclub, and Goro rolled his shoulders as he prepared for the upcoming confrontation.
His steps were silent as he climbed the stairs leading to the balcony.
The Yakuza boss who owned the club was waiting for him, seated on a couch, dressed in an inconspicuous white suit with a pink shirt underneath, paired with a white fedora perched on his head.
Sakura Sojiro peered at him through his glasses, looking unbothered by Goro's presence. Naturally.
He wasn't alone.
Behind him stood two bodyguards, a man and a woman, dressed in immaculate suits, and wearing sunglasses hiding away their eyes. Their expressions were neutral with a touch of severity, and they both looked like they could throw him through three walls without breaking a sweat.
Next to Sakura sat a beauty in a criminally short, blood-red Chinese dress embroidered in black, showing off their shapely legs, with their arms wrapped within an equally red scarf.
Goro carefully averted his eyes from the beauty, trying not to pay attention to their dark, messy hair curling around the nape of their neck, their piercing gray eyes, and their wickedly smiling full red lips.
(At this point, he was absolutely sure he walked into a trap. But no matter, he just had to walk out of it alive, with his objective done, to go and give the thrice-cursed former agent who sent him on this wild goose chase a thorough 'dressing down'.)
"Sakura," he started before he paused briefly, trying to gather his thoughts and organize a speech to try to avoid taking responsibility for the whole mess.
"Kid," Sakura said, and Goro tried not to visibly bristle at being called a kid, "Generally I'd let you go, because you probably didn't do this because you wanted to-" Of course Sakura knew, "-but. You did piss off some people. Big time."
Goro almost twitched. Who got pissed off now? Goro needed to know so that he could plot how to escape any approaching doom.
And doom approached him in that moment, possessing the form of the red-clad beauty, who rose from their seat and stepped slowly towards Goro, who tensed.
He froze in place when his gaze locked with theirs, their stormy eyes pinning him in place with a dark edge peering at him from within them and promising retribution.
Oh, so was this the person he'd pissed off?
(A small part of his brain vaguely wondered what kind of retribution they promised, and if Goro could conceivably convince them to have some private discussion about the topic, a discussion of the kind that involved his bed and a few coils of rope. Of the non-interrogative variety.)
He was brought out of his horny musings when the Beauty lashed out with a foot, leg stretching and delivering a devastating kick to his guts.
Goro coughed and crumpled to the floor, curled up in a ball as he tried to breathe while trying not to puke. Not that he actually ate anything since the previous day anyway.
He heaved dryly, limbs trembling as he stood back up shakily.
"Okay." He hissed, breath shuddering out of his body, "What did I do to deserve that?"
The Beauty reached for him with a hand, fist curling in the fabric of his crop top, and pulled him close, "That apartment you raided a few days ago." They pulled their lips back to bare their teeth and rattled off an address that Goro vaguely recognized from day four of this mess (or was it day three? He couldn't remember exactly), "You stole a lot of supplies, freaked out my cat, and stole my leather jacket." The Beauty snarled.
The leather jacket? Like, the one he was wearing right now?
"Oh."
"Yes, oh," The Beauty said in a mocking tone, and then leaned in close to Goro, their face merely inches from his, hot breath fanning out against Goro's cheek.
Goro's heart thumped violently against his ribcage at the murderous intent in the Beauty's eyes. And it wasn't out of fear.
"So," The Beauty (Goro really needed to get their name) spoke again, dragging Goro's brain out of the gutter, "I just decided. I'm going to take back my jacket. Person wearing it included." They smirked at him viciously.
They could have been plotting how to murder Goro and dispose of his body without leaving any traces in that moment, and Goro wouldn't care.
He was tired, and being inappropriately turned on by the one implicitly threatening to murder him was the only thing giving him the energy to keep going after the kick. Plus, if the Beauty was the one to put him out of his misery, it wouldn't be such a bad way to go.
"What's your name?" He blurted out as his brain completely shifted his priorities around.
The Beauty sent him a searing look, "Ren," They said, "And you better remember that name, because you'll be screaming it a lot during the next few days."
He wondered vaguely what kind of screaming Ren was talking about, but didn't bother gathering the energy to ask.
"Now, you stay here." Ren pushed him towards one of the chairs, and he fell backwards into it as the back of his knees hit the edge of its seat. He slumped into the chair's cushioning, boneless, and observed the other occupants of the balcony as Sakura just sighed in resignation, while the bodyguards seemed amused.
Ren just strode to the railing of the balcony and grasped it with a hand before smoothly vaulting over it to the floor below.
And then the screams started.
"Don't drive all of my customers away!" Sakura shouted, and Ren shouted back from at him.
"You got it, Boss!"
Meanwhile Goro, who must have been more tired than he expected, felt his eyelids droop as sleep attempted to overtake him. He blinked blearily when one of the bodyguards had walked over to him, placing his hand down on Goro's shoulder, "Sleep," He said, voice deep and smooth.
Seconds later, Goro's consciousness slipped away, and his head dropped sideways as he succumbed to sleep.
.
When he next woke up, he was fully rested, his mind a peaceful haze and his limbs loose. He blinked as he sat up, and stretched, relishing in the pleasant tingle spreading through his muscles.
Then he noticed his surroundings.
The bedroom was vaguely familiar, but it definitely wasn't his.
He climbed out of bed as quickly as he could while keeping quiet, taking notes of any tells the room could give him about who its true owner was, but it was too bare, too simplistic.
He reached the door, and before he could grasp its knob, it turned on its own, and he had to step back hurriedly to avoid the door hitting him.
Messy black hair, soft gray eyes, a casual t-shirt and a pair of sweets, an apron.
He almost choked.
Ren blinked at him once before their mouth stretched into a Cheshire cat grin "Welcome back to the world of the living, Goro-chan."
.
End
Yes, Goro was wearing a crop top throughout the majority of the fic. And a mesh shirt. And a leather jacket. And ripped jeans. And combat boots. But, you know [waves hand] details.