Chapter Text
For some strange reason, Jigen and Goemon decided to drive to Vegas. The “drive” part was only half of it– they would have to take a plane from Tokyo to Los Angeles and then ride for four hours. The method wasn’t the weird part– it was the fact that Goemon had even agreed on this trip at all.
Jigen had brought it up jokingly as they were running away from the gunfire. “After this is over, why don’t we go to Vegas?” Goemon agreed so long as it was after he “got that cavity looked at.”
Several lupin-adjacent catastrophes later, things were business as usual. Doing heists and running from the law. Jigen still wasn’t sure what really happened at Aquapolis, but he knew he wanted to make good on that promise. But shortly after a chase or two with Zenigata, Goemon seemed to disappear.
It wasn’t until late next spring that they saw each other again. By the next business day, they were getting a southwest flight.
And everything had gone off without a cinch. Goemon used his zen-like reflexes to land them some serious jackpots, and some generous “bonuses” from their boss meant the most lavish room in the city. Sure, they’d lost a hand or two (or ten) at blackjack– and Jigen was so hungover that Monday after that they didn’t end up leaving until Tuesday– but it didn’t matter. They were able to forget about running with the dogs for a while, as just two weirdos in Vegas.
On the drive back, however, the mood had died down. Goemon wasn’t that much different in vegas– a little sake and a long walk made him pretty exuberant. But that was all gone now. There was an odd melancholy between them that blew about in the rental mustang like Jigen’s smokes.
It must’ve been 9 o’clock now, with not a soul on the old highway aside from a few coyotes. The sky was still lit softly by the setting sun, but the stars were beginning to come out, lighting up the sky into a deep blue. After a long day of driving, the cold air felt good. Within an hour or two, they’d reach L.A.
Being behind schedule meant they might need to sleep in the car, but that was nothing new for them. The only thing Jigen dreaded was being in closer proximity to Goemon than he already was– what he dreaded more was that he wanted to.
He lit up another cigarette. He’d already smoked the last of his pack an hour or so ago, so he pulled out the backup box. Blush pink, curly writing– smelling of peaches. Pianissimo Peche. It tasted like pure shit, but Jigen hadn’t planned on buying it in the first place. He bought the pack at the airport in a rush, because they arrived nearly ten minutes before take-off, and he always ran out on car trips like this.
The smell was tolerable, at least. Enough to make Goemon break the silence.
“Can I have one?”
Jigen looked over and felt a flare in his cheeks. The speed of the car blew Goemon’s hair about, leaving strands disheveled around his eyes. He was relaxed, with one of his arms out the window and a tranquil smile on his face. It made Jigen feel a way he couldn’t explain.
“Sure.”
Jigen handed him one and struck the lighter for him, with Goemon leaning over to help his reach. Goemon didn’t smoke except around him, so Jigen felt an odd delight at being the “only person” that got him to. As he first struck the flame, He tried not to look down the territory the kimono created whenever goemon bent over. The more Goemon indulged, the wider it seemed to grow.
…What was wrong with him? This wasn’t exactly new; Jigen’s interest in men and disinterest in women was something he knowingly hid for years now. It wasn’t like he was in denial of it– some guys were hot, and he’d almost been to bed with one. He was sure Lupin figured it out by now, but they rarely referred to it directly. What Goemon knew was anyone’s guess. But every time he thought about opening that proverbial closet door, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Maybe he didn’t want to be known as “that kind of guy.” Maybe he was scared of change…
More than that, he was scared of rejection. Goemon probably hadn’t opened up everything about himself either, so why should he? It’d be simpler this way. This way, things wouldn’t grow slightly bitter, although still affectionate, as they did with lupin. He wouldn’t lose a friend.
…Another beautiful, perfect friend he couldn’t look away from.
Goemon took deep inhales and made that sweet smoke waft out the window and back into the car. His eyes seemed sad, softened in contemplation– but he had a fond smile on his face.
Jigen thought that if he connected this smell with this memory, he’d smoke these more often. He might even learn to like that dingy peach smell.
…
He turned his eyes back to the road.