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It’s the third of three hits they pull that night.
The Russo family, headed by ‘Father’ Enzo Russo, mainly deals in weapons. However, Lupin is more interested in the casinos they run on the side to cover the whole operation— and he’s far more interested in the funds that tend to get funnelled through them.
“All good things come in threes,” Jigen tells him as the Mercedes screeches around a sharp corner. Lupin’s pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes, but the score from each establishment is enough to have him humming in agreement anyways.
It’s all going amazingly well, he thinks. Fujiko’s already scampered off to the nicest part of town with her share, leaving them to fend off the cops and mobsters, but that’s fine. Most of the goons are currently swimming pretty in the harbour, along with some hearty chunks of bridge. Goemon, as always, played his part beautifully.
So, as it stands: it’s just Lupin, Jigen, and an empire’s worth of dirty money in the trunk. Jigen’s grin is drawn wide with excitement around his cigarette, his elbow heavy on Lupin’s shoulder, and Lupin’s feeling good.
At least, he’s feeling good until Jigen shoves him over, yells “GET DOWN,” and takes aim at the tinted-window suburban on their left. Lupin scrambles for control of the steering wheel as he hears, rather than sees a bullet make impact with the place his head was moments ago, and for a strange extended moment he wonders if it might be wise to invest in a ride that isn’t a convertible.
But then Jigen crouches over him, muttering curses as the wind tries to tear the battered cigarette from his teeth, breezily takes out their assailants with a with a well placed shot to the wheel, and Lupin files that little thought away for the time being.
“Yeesh,” Jigen grumbles, dropping back into his seat. “Oh, and you’re welcome, by the way”
“Hold on,” Lupin replies. He careens them over the sidewalk and into a dingy little side street, makes some seriously sketchy maneuverers for good measure, and continues down through an even dingier, littler side street. If there are any reinforcements, they’ve probably lost ‘em.
Lupin croons a pleasant “Thank you, dear,” when he’s sure they’re clear of immediate danger, and turns to fix his partner with a purely saccharine smile. “I’ll demonstrate my gratitude with dinner or a show. Your choice.”
“From you?” says Jigen, knocking his hat back from where it’s gone askew and weird, “Sounds more like a threat than a promise.”
“Screw you, man!” Lupin laughs.
“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Jigen says. And that- huh-
“Oh,“ says Lupin. His smile grows a fraction with understanding, and then, “really?”
It’s been a little over two years since he and renowned gunslinger Daisuke Jigen partnered up, a little under two years since they started messing around-- Nothing major; a helping hand here, a blowjob there, just perfectly normal partners-in-crime stuff. Lupin’s sort of accepted since the beginning that they were probably never going to go further than that, in terms of sexual congress. Jigen’s pretty solidly unreceptive to intimacy, especially if he’s not the one instigating it, and Lupin’s not actually a sex fiend, despite the rumours, so it’s really not a problem.
Or, it wasn’t a problem. Except now Jigen’s kind of implanted the idea, the sex idea, in Lupin’s brain- and it hadn’t actually occurred to him that Jigen would even want to fuck him- other parts of him that aren’t his mouth or hand, that is.
“Well, I’m all for it if you are!” Lupin says brightly.
Jigen makes a non-committal sound, kicks his feet up, and doesn’t say much of anything at all, and Lupin leers at him absurdly until Jigen shouts “LUPIN,” and he jerks his attention back to the road, wrenching the wheel left just in time to keep them from bouncing off a street light.
***
They make it back to the safe house.
Well, more accurately, the Safe Cabin. It’s a nice one, too. Inconspicuously cozy and far enough out of the city that the boys in blue won’t even know to look for it.
Dufflebags stuffed with incredible quantities of bills are tossed unceremoniously on the floor, and Lupin doesn’t even have time to revel in the afterglow of a job-gone-right before Jigen is crowding him up against the nearest wall. The kiss is a harsh motion with too much momentum; too much teeth-- but Lupin likes that, the rough stuff. He’s not sure what it is about messing with the mob that gets Jigen so damn excited, but it’s pretty consistent, and Lupin’s not complaining. His mind blanks for a moment, only a moment, before he’s reaching, gripping the back of Jigen’s neck to leverage him closer. Jigen’s hands wander over his thighs, hips, chest, throat and Lupin beams under the attention, sighing into every touch. He’s got one hand tangled in Jigen’s hair, and the other shifts encouragingly at the front of Jigen’s slacks.
“Do you want to fuck me?” Lupin asks him, sort of redundantly- since Jigen’s hat is already off and, frankly, making out is not a thing they usually partake in with each other- but it seems like a good idea to check.
“Yeah.” Jigen says, nice and straight to the point. Lupin likes that about him.
“Ok, great,” says Lupin.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Clothes,” Jigen says. He breaks off, and starts making quick work of his own shirt- once again, straight to the point.
“It’s your dirty talk that drives me wild, you know,” Lupin muses. He’s out of everything in record time, and Jigen abandons his own quest for nudity in order to pull Lupin back against him and lurch them both onto the plush, conveniently placed sofa that wraps around the living area, not even bothering to try making the trek to the bedroom, apparently. The day is going very well, Lupin thinks for the second time that hour.
Jigen bites at Lupin’s mouth, jaw and neck like he’s got a bone to pick with them, and wandering hands quickly turn into something more determined. Conventional wisdom argues that it shouldn’t be enough to get Lupin hard, but it is. Adrenaline from the getaway, Lupin reasons with himself.
Jigen presses against him harder, eliciting an eager sound right from Lupin’s throat, and then pulls his head back just enough to say, “You got any of that, uh, lubricant left?”
“For the scuba gear?” Lupin thinks for a second, trying to shake the tight buzzing from his brain. “No, why? Don’t need it”
And Jigen freezes. Like completely hand-on-dick mouth-on-neck freezes in place.
“Hey, um.” Lupin says tentatively, checking himself to make sure that there’s nothing weird going on down there, and privately pleased when there isn’t. He’s about to ask what Jigen’s deal is when Jigen kisses him, nice and sweet-like, and then detaches and sits back on his knees. Lupin appreciates the view. There’s a thin, pale scar that runs along his hip to his navel, and Lupin kind of wants to lick it- but Jigen’s got his thinking face on, and his pants are also regrettably on, so that’s probably got to be dealt with if Lupin hopes to have any fun tonight.
“Hey, you done this before?” Jigen asks him in the slow, weary voice and cold, weary expression he uses when he thinks Lupin is hiding something.
“Sure.” Lupin says, and when that weird look doesn’t go away, “not usually sober” he admits.
Jigen frowns at that, and seems to just sort of fold in on himself, but in a mental way, and Lupin belatedly realizes that he might be having an honest to god emotion right now. Talk about poor timing.
Then Jigen closes his eyes and his eyebrows knit together in frustration, and shit, that's the ‘Lupin, I can’t deal with you right now, but I’m not going to tell you why’ face-- definitely not a positive sign. The last time he got like this was when Lupin got stabbed (lightly!) while on a little side job at Fujiko’s behest. It actually wasn’t her fault for once, and they sorted everything out just fine between them.
Then Jigen found out about it. It was a two day fight, relegated to dirty looks and snide comments and a couple barely restrained shoves, before finally the gunman grabbed Lupin by the shoulders and yelled, "I don’t get why you can’t just tell her NO!"
“It’s not like you’re the one who got banged up, so why does it matter?” Lupin had shouted right back, only to receive the face in response.
They both got over it, of course, but it’s still a sore memory. At the time, Lupin had kind of figured that the face had everything to do with Jigen’s flagrant distaste for all things Fujiko, but now he’s not so sure. It’s not helping that he genuinely has no idea why the face is making an appearance now, of all times. There’s a lot to consider here. The day is no longer going so well.
“Do I suck you off like an amateur or something?” Lupin asks honestly, and that brings Jigen sputtering back to the moment.
“What? No!” Jigen spits out.
“Were you wanting to- uh…” Lupin pauses to construct his phrasing carefully, “deflower me?”
“Lupin- Jesus- no!” Jigen scrubs a hand over his face and groans, like that’s supposed to explain everything.
Lupin prods again. “I’m clean, if that’s what you’re on about. Been getting checked every second month since that scare with the-“
“Lupin,” Jigen says, “it’s nothing.”
“Okay? So return to your post, soldier.“
Lupin reaches out and lets his thumb trace along that scar and, since his hand is there anyways, hooks a finger into Jigen’s belt loop and pulls. But Jigen, apparently deadest on being a loser, takes Lupin’s hand in his own and just kind of holds it there. What the fuck.
The energy in the room has shifted from heavy and hot and exciting to lame in a matter of seconds.
Lupin likes Jigen, probably more than he likes anyone else even, but he prefers certain Jigens in certain situations. On the occasion they mess around, he likes the Jigen who pins him down onto the closest surface and takes him hard and hungry until Lupin sees stars-- confident and cocksure in the way a skilled gunman is, cool in the way Jigen is, and assertive enough to make up for how unassertive he is in, well, life.
Lupin’s line of thought is getting away from him, perhaps, but the point is: thoughtful Jigen is great, he loves that side of him, but not really when Lupin is hard (mostly) and naked (completely), and fully ready to rock and roll. And while Lupin is no stranger to being left unsatisfied, grâce à la belle Fujiko, he generally likes to know why he’s being hung out to dry in the cold, cold pasture. No, in this situation- unreadable, pensive Jigen is decidedly the worst.
“Fine,” says Lupin, pulling his wrist back.
Jigen always plays his cards close to his chest, wont show his hand unless he decides he’s got all the right suits. It’s something they have in common, although Jigen’s always had a knack for wheedling Lupin’s internal monologue out of him with an arm-bar or noogie… and hey, now there’s an idea.
Lupin abandons his spot on the sofa, launching at Jigen with all the grace and agility of a sexually frustrated weasel and knocking him straight off balance, to which Jigen makes a loudly affronted noise, and grapples for purchase.
Lupin means to trap him in a clawhold, but only succeeds in toppling them both onto the carpet while they each squabble for the upper hand. Jigen’s stronger than him, and bigger now, too- his ability to gain muscle on seemingly a whim is something pretty enviable- but Lupin’s nimbler, faster, and has the element of surprise on his side.
“Jigen,” Lupin says then, struggling and failing to pin him to the ground, “don’t tell me- ah- that you’re having a sexuality crisis. Because if you are, I would have appreciated it if you whipped that out the first time we- ouch- got down.”
That gets him a flat look and an elbow to the sternum.
“The hell are you going on about?” Jigen grumbles.
Lupin smacks him on the shoulder and continues, “-And we both agreed that we would be more communicative after that ruckus with the owls!”
Jigen goes for a messy headlock, but Lupin manages to twist Jigen’s arm around, trapping his wrist between them, and Jigen’s got Lupin pinioned to the floor with his ankle locked between his legs in a severely uncomfortable position.
“I’m not having a sexuality crisis- Ow! Lupin!- And for the record, pal, I asked YOU to communicate more! You know, after you failed to mention we were being hunted by a league of drug manufacturing owl cultists- and YOU said, to quote: ‘all’s well that ends well.”
Jigen’s voice is raised now, and that’s good, because it means Lupin can yell back.
“Well then lead by example!”
“Screw you!” says Jigen.
“I thought that was the POINT!” Lupin squawks.
Jigen clamps his free hand firmly over Lupin’s mouth, apparently no longer in the mood for this verbal song and dance number, sighs, and really looks at him for a minute.
“Did it hurt, with those other guys?” Jigen asks him. And that- that’s a tough one.
“Well sure,” says Lupin, muffled. He immediately regrets it, though, when Jigen pulls his hand away like he’s been stung, and Lupin curses his dumb inability to lie to the man.
“But, in a good way, you know!” he adds quickly. A lame save, as far as they go, “And I wouldn’t be down if I wasn’t ok with it!”
Jigen looks off with a faintly sad expression, probably constructing a mental image of Lupin in those situations-- some frail, pathetic, imaginary version of Lupin getting shoved around and fucked rough in a dirty alley or something. Granted, that isn’t wholly inaccurate. His past encounters with men aren’t the most romantic of tales- consequence of the times, mostly. But Lupin had wanted it, and enjoyed himself for the most part- even if he couldn’t walk very well for a little while afterwards.
Jigen's sharp eyes turn back to him, and he seems to hesitate before he says, “It doesn’t have to be like that.”
“What?” Lupin says automatically, because he’s honestly baffled all of this everything right now.
“This.” Jigen clarifies, thumb moving to tap a little circle along Lupin’s collarbone “I can make it real good for you.”
And while that’s an extremely hot thing he’s just said, it’s mitigated by his cautions and very sober inflection.
Then Jigen says, so quiet the thief almost doesn’t catch it, “I don’t wanna hurt you, Lupin,” like it's a confession, which is more than a little upsetting because Lupin already knows that.
If Lupin suspected that any of his partners would ever do something seriously messed up to him: well, they wouldn’t be partners. Lupin’s been down that path before-- it’s dark, but he’s gotten pretty good at spotting the difference between feisty and violent.
Jigen isn’t a violent man- Lupin knows that with absolute certainty. It occurs to him, though, that maybe his partner doesn’t know he knows that.
Jigen is still giving him a hard look that’s kind of making Lupin squirm, and not in a fun way- and he wonders how many things there are about the man that Lupin knows without Jigen realizing he knows them.
“You’re not going to hurt me, Jigen.” He says eventually, not even a question.
Jigen studies his face like he'll find a lie there- Quiet and withdrawn and hesitant and that breaks Lupin’s heart in a million stupid ways. It’s a relic of how he was when they first met, when they were barely partners, let alone friends, and Jigen would hold him at arms length because he was convinced he’d get burned. It makes Lupin a bit mad, where he isn’t frustrated and horny, because that probably means that somebody along the line hurt Jigen in the way that Jigen is afraid he’ll hurt Lupin. Or maybe Lupin’s just projecting. Whatever.
“Alright, look,” Lupin offers, “even if you do, or I’m not into it- which, by the way, pretty fucking unlikely,“ He props himself up and levels Jigen with a real no-bullshit expression to illustrate his sincerity, “I’ll just give you the signal. I promise.”
There’s a pause. A good type of pause. A considering pause. Then Jigen nods slowly and says, “What’s the signal?”
“A solid left hook to the solar plexus. Now stop treating me like a fair maiden and fuck me.” Lupin replies, dropping Jigen’s arm from where it’s still twisted between them.
“Ever the sweet-talker, huh,” says Jigen lightly, but he’s smirking now, a little, and Lupin can work with that.
“We’ll do it your way, yeah? Whatever pace you want.” says Lupin, moving to stand. “There’s olive oil over the fridge. Get after it, cowboy. I’ll be in the bedroom, making love eyes at the ceiling,” He gives the crotch of Jigen’s pants a good nudge for emphasis and for motivation.
“No," Jigen says, getting up to his feet, "I’d rather fuck you here”
“Oh, well okay then, if you’d rather.” Lupin sniffs- and Jigen had accused him of sweet-talking. Still, he slinks back down onto the sofa.
After Jigen saunters away to retrieve the supplies, Lupin spends those quiet minutes trying urgently to will himself back to the level of turned on he was before their little heart to heart. He could jack off, of course, but that seems a bit rude, with Jigen not being in the room and all. Lupin had promised him a show.
That entire train of thought is rendered moot, however, when Jigen returns, bottle of olive oil in hand, declares “Hands and knees, kid,” to announce himself, and takes his place behind Lupin on the sofa without much ceremony. The positioning is definitely not ideal, and Lupin feels strangely exposed. It’s not like he was ever shy about waltzing around undressed even before they started fooling around, so it should really take more than Jigen’s eyes on him to get Lupin feeling flustered, but it doesn’t, and he is.
Then Jigen pops the cap off the bottle of oil, places a hand on the small of Lupin’s back, and dumps a good portion of it on Lupin’s ass- just like that.
“Hey!” Lupin hisses, smacking Jigen’s thigh with his foot, partially because that shit is cold, and partially because that shit is expensive. “Warn a guy!”
“Sorry.” Jigen says, slathering the oil around and sounding very not sorry. “Tell me if this hurts, or you want me to stop.”
“Sure buddy. We have the signal, remembAYee! Okay then!” The rest of whatever witty reply Lupin’s formulating is cut off by the feeling of Jigen’s finger, slicked up, prodding into him.
“Seriously,” Lupin whinges with an exaggerated wince at the intrusion, “Fingerbanging? I haven’t fingerfucked since grade school.”
“Gross, man.” Jigen says, chastising, “I’m not just gonna slide on in, Lupin. You can thank me when you’re not in the hospital for internal bleeding.”
Lupin shoots him a pointed scowl over his shoulder.
“Internal bleeding? C’mon, your cock’s not that big.”
“Gee,” Jigen says, “Thanks pal”
“Sorry,” says Lupin, because he doesn’t subscribe to insulting people who are trying to show him a good time, blue-balled or not. “You got a great dick. But Jigen, what’re we doing here? This isn’t foreplay. I would know- I’m the king of foreplay. My tongue is the brush for which I paint my most coveted artworks- they have a portrait of me hanging up at the Louvre, you know.”
“They have a portrait of you at the Louvre because you put it there last week and they haven’t noticed.” Jigen says.
Lupin makes an exasperated clicking sound with his tongue, and turns back to stare glumly at nothing. “Minor details.”
“-And I’m going at my own pace.” Jigen adds, in an unfortunate mimickery of Lupin’s earlier statement.
“Your pace sucks.”
“Too bad, man.” Jigen tells him evenly, “Anyways, it’s not supposed to be foreplay. It’s- uh...”
“Retribution?” Lupin suggests.
“Preparation.” Jigen resolves.
“Ah.”
Preparation sucks, Lupin thinks miserably. Although, fairness time: Jigen is definitely the more experienced of them in this particular field- the large benefactors to that being his age, and his proclivity towards men over women. Not to mention Jigen’s time in the army. Ah, the army.
He doesn’t talk much about his life before they met, so the intimate details of Jigen’s service are up to Lupin’s imagination- and oh, does he ever imagine. The truly outrageous number of ~soldiers from Jigen’s past~ they cross paths with fuels the fire for that theory nicely.
So yeah, he probably knows what he’s doing, and Lupin should be grateful for the extra care- Even if it’s taking forever and his erection, still valiantly somewhat present, has kind of taken a break from the proceedings. Lupin rests his head on his arm and gazes kind of witlessly at a loose patch of thread on the sofa, lets Jigen do his thing, and tries not to ruminate on the stiflingly clinical turn this night has taken.
It’s not... bad. It feels weird, intrusive, but not overtly painful. Jigen’s being decidedly unsexy and methodical about the whole thing, too, although that maybe has something to do with his big “I don’t want to hurt you” declaration- and there’s a good chance he’s just being wary of Lupin’s slight masochism streak.
“Can you at least talk to me or something,” Lupin laments, when he’s bored of looking at the upholstery. His voice comes out as a whine that grates horribly on his own ears, so it must be just magical for Jigen.
“We don’t normally talk when we, um, you know.” Jigen says, and Lupin, as always, finds his reluctance to speak the naughty words endlessly amusing.
“Yes well,” Lupin agrees, civil, “you don’t usually stick your fingers in my ass either, so it seems today is just packed with new experiences.”
“I can stop, Lupin.” Jigen tells him, but there’s an edge of humour to his voice. Lupin hears it. It’s there.
“No, please. Do what you gotta,” Lupin says with resolution. “But I reserve the right to complain.”
Here’s the real problem: Having to lay still with fingers poking around in his ass is kind of reminding Lupin of his prison examination room visits— not even in a sexy fantasy way, more of a ‘let’s still get this over with, please’ way. He tells Jigen as much, and Jigen chuckles, leans over to press his lips to Lupin’s neck, and crooks his fingers in a way that punches the air out of Lupin’s lungs.
“Holy shit,” Lupin breathes, when he regains the ability. His arousal salutes from the middle distance, and is apparently down to party with whatever that was. “Do that again.”
“Good?” Jigen asks into his ear, and Lupin can hear how he’s grinning. His voice vibrates through Lupin, and it turns his pulse rapid.
“Please do that again,” Lupin slurs, and tries to rut up against Jigen for incentive, But Jigen’s free hand is gripping Lupin’s hip like a vice, and he holds him in place. He feels Jigen shift over him, more oil, and then the slow press of a third digit has Lupin moaning openly.
Jigen stills, undoubtedly trying to gage if the noise was a happy one. His face is still pressed into the divot of Lupin’s shoulder, and all Lupin has to do is say “s’good,” and he can feel the curve of Jigen’s mouth grow wider against his skin, the smug smirk, and Jigen finally, finally starts to move.
He thrusts his fingers slow at first, drawing them back and forth without much rhythm or force. Not quite fucking him, but testing the waters- so to speak. Lupin, for his part, gasps obscenities into the crook of his own arm, his body jolting with every motion of it’s own accord. He bows his back, trying to get Jigen to hit him like that again, and he can’t help but grab at his own dick and shakily start stroking.
It’s kind of unbecoming, a little salacious, but it’s hot and it feels good and it’s not very long before Lupin is fully hard-- panting into the arm of the sofa like he’ll run out of air or something.
“I changed my mind- ah!- about your pace.” He announces after a bit.
Jigen is going at him for real now, and Lupin can tell he’s getting pretty into it by how his breath catches in time with Lupin’s own.
“Uh-huh?”
“Uh-huh.” Lupin answers, and then gives Jigen a what’s-supposed-to-be-determined-but-definitely-comes-off-as desperate look over his shoulder. His heart is beating loud, so loud, Lupin’s almost sure Jigen can hear it.
“Let’s go,” He says, voice skewed. “I want it, Jigen”
It’s got to stir something in him because just like that, Jigen pulls away, and Lupin makes a truly embarrassing noise at the loss of contact.
“Get on your back,” Jigen says, low, “I want to see you.”
And that, more than anything, makes Lupin’s blood run electric. He let’s out a curt “Yessir” and clambers around just in time to see Jigen working off his belt with stark efficiency. At last.
Lupin, deciding it’s as good a time as any to work in a move or two, slinks forward. He smooths his hands over the expanse of Jigen’s chest, scrapes his fingernails downwards, and settles his palms at the sharp angles of Jigen’s waist, thumbs deliberately dipping into the hem of his briefs. It makes Jigen's fingers stutter on the zipper of his trousers, and Lupin laughs airily, and helps him out of them. He’s happy to see that Jigen’s also been enjoying himself, despite all attention having been on Lupin for the past half hour.
The second his remaining clothes hit the ground, Jigen’s back on him- shoving Lupin down onto the cushions with a renewed sort of appreciation. The oil-slick state of both of them makes everything all the more lewd- Jigen’s hands sliding over his body, arranging Lupin this way and that.
“You’re pretty fucking sexy today, you know that?” Lupin hums, letting his fingers trace the hard cut of Jigen’s stomach and chest, the telling scars that mark the strong curve of his back. It’s not really a question.
“Yeah well,” replies Jigen, “you should see the other guy.”
Lupin has enough clarity to thank the lucky stars for his flexibility when Jigen- with one arm braced on the couch, and the other hitching Lupin’s thigh over his waist- eases himself down to press their foreheads together, startlingly intimate, the subtle shift causing both of their breaths to catch, and then--
Jigen presses in slow, slow, agonizingly slow, and it’s like all the air in the world is sucked out of Lupin’s body. It hurts, but not in the way Lupin is expecting, not in the way he knows. He’s waiting for the sharp, red-hot throbbing that leaves him paralyzed and helpless to grab hold of him, but it doesn’t come. In place of that: it’s a sweet, blunt, burning sensation that takes Lupin over: a kind of all-encompassing pulsing that has his entire body screaming for more more more. The prep was a good idea, he decides. Jigen’s hands are fever warm on his skin, anchoring Lupin’s hips hard, pulling him impossibly close, and Lupin feels remarkably, desperately full.
He chokes on it, the feeling, tangles his fingers tight in Jigen’s hair, and Jigen answers him with a broken, almost surprised noise, and pushes all the way. Lupin gasps and writhes. Legs, arms, shoulders, hips, everything shivering with a new sort of stimulation- adjusting to Jigen in and around him. He’s being weird, probably, but there’s really no helping it— the buildup has been unbelievable and Jigen’s going S L O W, forcing Lupin to feel everything he’s giving to him with stark lucidity.
Lupin is not a virgin by any means, but he suspects he’s acting like one, all jittered up with nowhere to go. Jigen’s there with him nonetheless, bottomed out and holding steady, breath heated against Lupin’s face-- and doesn’t seem too put off about it, if the current bout of soft pecks and bites along Lupin’s jaw are any indication.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Jigen murmurs into the slope of his neck.
“Oh.” Lupin responds, and wraps around Jigen tighter, because for once he can’t think of anything else to say at all.
The tableau is all very tender and intimate, which isn’t really their M.O. and that’s why, after a minute of just laying together, Lupin makes the executive decision to grind his hips up hard, shattering the deep reverie they’ve found themselves in, and Jigen curses and snaps forward on pure instinct, shoving Lupin further up the upholstery. Lupin’s hands hopelessly fumble for purchase at his back- It’s jarring, intense, and it feels so good that he thinks his head might explode.
“Hey man,” Jigen says like it’s just, you know, a casual conversation. “We okay here?”
Lupin balks- he wants to say: ‘yes dear, the placement of your dick in my ass is satisfactory. Now, please start moving or I may actually throttle you.’ What he does manage to say, however, is a string of jumbled syllables that form together as something like: “Hrrmmfgh— ghh--- yeah—fuck.”
Jigen leans back just enough to give Lupin a sleazy little grin, the cocky bastard, and begins to rock into him with hard, methodical calculation.
Whoa. Alright. Lupin can definitely work with that.
It takes him a moment to calibrate and find the rhythm, but Lupin’s pretty good at this part, and is nothing if not quick on the uptake. He arches his back to meet each stroke, grabs at Jigen's hair, his neck, his shoulders, whatever he can touch, and soaks it all in-- barely aware that he’s spilling out broken words along the whole way.
“That’s it-” Lupin rasps, “shit- come on- I can take it- Jigen- it’s ok- you know I can take it-”
He’s not even sure what language he’s speaking in, but Jigen must get the idea because he starts fucking him with fervour, rumbling half-praises and curses in equal measure. He finds the angle that makes Lupin’s vision go white and targets it purposefully, and Lupin goes from gasps to moans to shouts in a matter of seconds.
Any pretence of self-control and affectation is gone from the room, and it’s all too easy to forget that it’s probably not normal to say things like ‘I think I love you’ or ‘you’re so fucking good for me’ to your business partner. But that hardly matters- Jigen is dishing out the talk right back at him- holding Lupin like he’s something precious and needed, like Jigen doesn’t care about anything else in the world at all.
It brings Lupin over the edge so hard he feels it crash all the way through his body, up his spine, and out to the tips of his fingers. He shakes with it, and doesn’t have half a mind to feel embarrassed about finishing first because Jigen kisses him as he does, drinks down whatever nonsense words Lupin sobs out, and tapers his thrusts to a meticulous stop. It’s like every millimetre of space between the two of them has been stifled out of existence- and they are utterly, complexly together as Lupin melts back into reality.
After a moment that stretches into forever, Jigen moves to pull away and Lupin blinks, shifts his body experimentally, and decides that no- he won’t have that. He’s a gentleman, thank you very much, and even though his bones feel like they’ve left his body, he locks his ankles over Jigen’s back and numbly clasps his hand around the base of his neck, effectively pinning them together.
“Keep going,” he murmurs, foggy minded and breathing heavy. Jigen’s close. Lupin can feel it under his skin- how tension runs through his lean muscles, arms shaking with the effort of holding still.
“Give it all to me”
And Jigen, god bless him, does.
The pace starts slow, and then it’s not. Lupin is fucked out and oversensitive, and even his cloud of post orgasm bliss can’t keep him from crying out every time Jigen drives into him. It’s absolutely overwhelming- the delicious burn, the hotly desperate noises Jigen’s making, his breathing frantic against Lupin’s neck- it’s too much. Jigen’s movements grow more and more erratic, fucking with the intensity Lupin knows he’s been trying to hold back.
“Yeah- just like that, I want it, I want it, Daisuke-” Lupin chants up into the air like a prayer, and then “shit!” as Jigen gives in and snaps forward hard. Lupin can’t breath. Jigen shudders, drives down once, twice, and Lupin feels teeth scrape against his throat as Jigen comes with a growl.
It’s pretty awesome. Even after Jigen pulls himself together enough to loosen his grip on Lupin’s waist- that’s sure to be a good bruise- Lupin still is quivering with the aftershocks.
Jigen pants into the crook of Lupin’s collarbone for a beat, makes a strange, aborted move to get up, but apparently decides against it and simply lays right back down on top of him. It takes Lupin a seriously long time to regain his bearings, even longer for the pins and needles to stop attacking his limbs, and they both just lie there like that for a while- Jigen caging Lupin to the sofa, shielding him from the world.
It’s… nice. They’ve never really cozied up like this before, usually post-orgasm Jigen gives Lupin a solid pat on the back and sparks up a cigarette with a ‘good game, buddy’ sort of attitude. They’ve broken through a barrier here, Lupin thinks, some kind of emotional barrier that leads to laying in a tangled heap for what feels like a ridiculously long time. Some might call it cuddling. There’s olive oil everywhere, too, not he really cares; they’ll be in another continent by tomorrow night, after all.
“Jigen,” Lupin says, when the position is starting to get uncomfortable.
“Hmf” Jigen mumbles into his shoulder
Lupin snorts as he shifts his body so they’re side by side, facing each other, and Jigen’s no longer crushing the air out of him. The couch can barely fit one full-grown man stretched out, let alone two, but they conform in-between each other and make it work.
“When you…” Lupin starts, “…At the end, there… did you growl at me?”
“Shuddup,” is Jigen’s brilliant response.
“I’m gonna make fun of you for that later,” Lupin tells him, “Yeah. Remind me.”
Jigen doesn’t grace that with an answer, but helpfully lifts his arm so Lupin can curl in closer and treats him to a deep, lazy kiss when he does. His palm is a warm, solid weight on the back of Lupin’s neck, and it’s probably the only thing that’s keeping Lupin from floating up to the ceiling.
Lupin sighs contently into his mouth; hands going up to lovingly cradle Jigen’s face. He can’t help it, sex always makes him tooth achingly touchy-feely, and he’s pretty sure Jigen’s not going to smack him away for being grossly romantic right now, so he’s taking advantage for the time being.
“Daisuke Jigen,” Lupin eventually says, breathless- “You’re a pretty good fuck.”
Jigen huffs a laugh and bats his hands away lightly, and reaches over to the floor to knock a cigarette loose from his jacket.
“Again with the sweet-talk,” He says.
“I mean it! I think I like this chivalrous, affectionate, vanilla you. Treating me like a proper lady, who would have thought?” Muses Lupin, and he smiles a little stupidly around the unlit cigarette Jigen places between his lips.
“Do we have to chat right now?” Jigen asks, groping blindly along the floor for his lighter.
Lupin continues thoughtfully- “I might even make breakfast in the morning.”
“You make breakfast every morning-“ Jigen tenses hard on the last word, and Lupin does too, hand instinctively flinching to his side to grab for a gun that isn’t there. Afterglow or not, they’re both too well adjusted as crooks to not hear a door creak out of place.
Someone else is in the house.
Lupin’s breath catches in his throat, he starts mentally calculating the dash to his jacket, and Jigen’s leaning carefully toward his hat’s place on the coffee table, listening. Lupin cranes his neck over Jigen's shoulder and focuses on… the sound of a toilet flushing? And then the door again, and then footsteps heading quickly away into silence. He looks at Jigen, and Jigen looks at him, and then Jigen dips his head down and his shoulders starts to shake.
A low chuckle, Jigen patented, rumbles through the room. It turns to a guffaw, evolves into a holler, and all of a sudden Jigen is laughing for real, full bodied and open-- chest heaving and jostling Lupin, who’s still tangled up in his limbs.
“We forgot!” Jigen shouts abruptly, high-pitched and wheezy and way too close. His hand slaps over his eyes and he devolves right back into his fit of laughter.
“About what!” Lupin yells back- he’s so riddled with confusion that he’s starting to feel the beginnings of nervous snickering rise from his stomach.
“About Goemon!” Jigen barely manages to say, he’s practically red, and it’s all over for Lupin as soon as the realization hits him.
“Oh, CRAP!” Lupin shrieks, and then he’s full on cackling too, right into Jigen’s face. They were supposed to rendezvous with Goemon after the job and oh god, how long has he been here?
“What was it you said, about good things coming in threes?” Lupin prompts, and it sends Jigen off even harder, and then Lupin’s laughing because Jigen’s laughing and they’re probably both going to suffocate and die if they don’t stop.
“I guess-“ Lupin starts again, fruitlessly gasping for air, “it’s a good time as any-“ a frantic snicker breaks through “-to have a talk with the good man about the birds and the bees!”
“The shit you were saying? HA- he probably get’s the idea!” Jigen barks.
He flops back down next to Lupin, holds him, wheezes and howls, and Lupin throws his arms over Jigen’s shoulders, buries his face in Jigen’s chest, and laughs so hard he almost cries.
***
end.