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Goro is so prepared. Stunningly prepared. The most prepared. So when Ren arrives, terrifying and terrifyingly broad package over his shoulder, Goro treats him to a glance up as he wipes the counter, and nothing more.

"What do you have there, a French stick?" He doubts it, honestly.

"Maybe it's from France. I dunno what they do there." He heaves it up over his shoulder and plops it down onto the counter. It thumps audibly as it lands. "Wanna see?"

He raises a cool eyebrow, pulse hammering in his neck. "In front of my salad, Ren? Please."

The package is ... long, though. Very long. It blocks Goro's path to the kitchen, and that's saying something.

Ren opens his mouth. Closes his mouth. For a second, hes too dumbfounded to speak.

"I'm so proud of you," he says at last.

"I should hope so." And, with that, he rests a neat hand on the package, and runs a hand down its length. The ribs and ridges scrape his hand through the paper, and he struggles not to laugh.

Ren watches Goro's face. His own expression is fairly calm, but it takes effort.

"Here," he says, and unceremoniously rips off part of the wrapping. It's too fucking big for him to get all the paper at once, but he can at least reveal...

...yeah, that sure is lifelike. Except for the hot pink color.

Still staring, Goro tears back more of the paper. The crevices are deep enough for him to fit his fingers into. Which he does, giving the smooth, hot pink silicone a little rub.

"This is—" No, he can't. He loses it and bursts out laughing.

"Ha. I win."

He pats the dildo, if it can even be called that, with strange fondness. "Want me to drop this off in your room? It can live in the corner with your plant and jumpscare us when we see it."

Edited 2025-05-21 19:22 (UTC)

"You did not win." He rests his hand on it again, caressing it in turn. "I don't know if I want it in the corner of my room. What about if we set up an altar? We can drape it across the front."

"That's, like, a temple-sized altar, dude." He considers that for a second. "We could just drop it off at a temple."

Hm. His hand pauses, mid-stroke. "That might not be a good idea. Considering we literally have the goddess Izanami here."

"Fuck that guy," says Ren, purely out of reflex. "But okay, if you say so. Put it wherever you want. It's your present."

Present. God. He cracks up again.

When he's over it, he lifts it partway, with difficulty, and gives it a waggle. "I know where to present it."

"Yeah? Should I get the lube?"

Listen. Will that thing stab through his intestines and kill him slowly? Yes. Is he gonna back down? Absolutely the fuck not.

"After dinner. You're going to need some pushback in there."

Rather than wait for Ren's response, he brings out a carafe, and starts the kettle for coffee—wicked grin firmly in place.

...Goro's probably bluffing.

"Can't wait." He plops down at the counter, mourning his future ass. "I already ate, but I can always have seconds. Did you know you can make a sandwich out of sausages?"

"Oof," says Goro, weighing out coffee. "Topical."

Ren snorts a laugh. "Yeah. You put a few in a row, drizzle 'em with sauce, and then swallow them down."

Edited 2025-05-21 20:15 (UTC)

"Isn't that the wrong way around?" Sojiro, he thinks, would nail him to the wall if he heard them having this conversation at the counter.

He tilts his head. "Depends, I guess. I can see it both ways."

He leans forward. "I'm serious, though. I thought it'd suck, but it was actually good."

All right, all right. He taps the filter to level it all out. "So not like a hot dog, you mean? A sandwich with a row of sausages?"

"Yeah. Like, bread. Thin little pieces of unsweet bread, with sausages cut in half, and butter and red sauce."

"Red sauce? You mean ketchup?" That would make sense, since it's basically a hot dog. "Was it good?"

"Yeah." He sounds so baffled that it almost comes out frustrated. "It sounds so weird, but it was great, actually. I wanna make one."

It didn't exactly look hard. Fry some sausages and you're pretty much done.

"I wonder if they'd be good on the menu." They'd be novel, at any rate, and their clientele is starved of novelty.

"So he used English bread and sausages? Where did he get it?"

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