Archive of Our Own ^beta

Being worried wasn’t a state of being Daisuke Jigen was used to by a long shot.

After all these years, no matter what crazy situation they got into -or, more accurately, that Lupin got them into- they always managed to get out of it in the end.

But wasn’t that the operative word? ‘They.’ When the three of them were together, it felt like they could take on the world. It only ever seemed to really go to shit when any of them went off on their own.

Lupin would be fine. He was out chasing Fujiko, which was risky, sure, but more for Lupin’s wallet and ego than any actual risk to his person. Goemon, though? Who friggen knew with that guy. He wasn’t exactly the loquacious type, at least not in comparison to Lupin, and barely gave an explanation as to what he was up to before he was off on his own without even giving a good reason for Jigen not to tag along.
It’s not like he didn’t have faith in the guy, of course he did. He’d seen him slice effortlessly through anything that might be in his way, he really shouldn’t worry about him.

He just always felt better when he could be his backup in case it all went to hell, that was all.

Jigen sighed, draped over the sofa in the hideout, hat pulled low over his face in the guise of napping. As though being anxious about his comrades wasn’t bad enough, it was made worse by manifesting in a way that made it impossible to get his mind off of it. He had tried watching tv, but just ended up channel surfing and not finding anything that could hold his attention for more than a minute or so. He had tried playing darts, but found himself distracted by every little sound outside that could be Goemon returning and his aim suffered, which only added to his agitation. He figured maybe a nap would do him good, if he could actually relax enough to fall asleep.

He wasn’t sure how long he had tried and failed to sleep before he was roused by a sudden loud thunk against the door. He gave a grumble under his breath, assuming it was Lupin coming back completely trashed with his tail between his legs because what else could that sound signify?

“Let me guess,” he said, heaving himself off the sofa and over to the door to unlock it. “Fujiko got you trashed and stole your cash and you’re going to spend the rest of the night whining about it, am I close?” he called dryly from the other side of the door, pulling it open with one arm at the ready to hold up what he guessed was a drunk and probably weepy Lupin.

Well… it wasn’t the first time he’d guessed wrong.

Goemon fell through the now open doorway. He had less knocked for entrance and more fallen against the safehouse door with a loud ‘thunk’.

“Goemon-!?”

The Samurai’s vision was hazy but the sight of Jigen settled him slightly as he fell into the marksman’s waiting arm, unable to keep himself up on trembling legs. The impact made him hiss slightly in pain, but the relief that washed over him at being safe in the arms of a trusted friend- that overpowered the pain.

One of Goemon’s hands clutched his shoulder where deep crimson had stained his clothes, another stain at his side where he had been forced to cinch part of his kimono tight across his body to hold pressure on another gunshot wound to his side.

Jigen’s own blood ran cold when he saw Goemon’s blood, when he saw just how pale and shaky the normally composed samurai was.
“Son of a bitch,” he breathed, taking on Goemon’s weight to keep him upright. “Hey, you’re gonna be fine, c’mon, stay with me.”

Goemon hummed in response. Enough to let his partner know that he was still awake and could hear him. Though he kept his eyes resolutely squeezed shut as Jigen hefted him into his arms and kicked the door closed, carefully leading him to the sofa and gingerly laying him down.

When he was finally horizontal Goemon allowed himself a deep, hissed breath. The dizziness that had clouded his vision lessened enough to where he could open one eye to stare at the peeling ceiling of the safe house hearing Jigen bolting for their first aid supplies, clattering back as quickly as possible as he worked to assess his condition.

“What the hell happened?” Jigen asked as he began to gently peel aside his bloodsoaked clothing, not actually expecting an answer, but needing to ask all the same. His eyes flicked up to the other’s face. Grabbing a fresh towel to press to his shoulder in an attempt to stop the bleeding. He held it there for a moment as Goemon spoke.

“I… I made a grave miscalculation…I was… a fool.” He said, his voice tight as Jigen looked over the rest of the damage.

“Doesn’t sound like you. You’re gonna step on Lupin’s toes if you’re trying to be the fool of the gang, you know,” Jigen replied gently, thinking foolish was the last word he would ever choose to describe Goemon. He hated seeing him like this, battered and broken and so unlike his regular steadfast and stoic self.

Goemon tried to breathe. To let himself fall into the meditative breaths which had helped him through so much in his life so far— pain, and grievances, overwhelming circumstances, and petty annoyances. But every breath was stuttering. The pain that burned up from his shoulder and side made it nearly impossible to draw a full breath.

Normally Jigen’s attempts at levity might have drawn a small snort from him or at least a small smile. But now the little joke made him cringe. Adrenaline leaving him, all he had left was the pain… and the shame.

He had easily stopped bullets before, Zantetsuken always quick enough and sharp enough to keep him safe but tonight… Tonight he had gotten sloppy, careless.

“Perhaps… but when Lupin is a fool he still manages to be a world renowned thief… when I am a fool… I get shot…” He said with a low groan as Jigen lifted the cloth to check his shoulder wound, clocking a clear entry and exit wound.

“Hey, cut that out. Just try to relax,” Jigen groused mildly “Here, Keep pressure on this, I gotta check the other one.” Guiding Goemon’s hand back to his bleeding shoulder where the samurai held fast.

Satisfied Goemon had it under control, Jigen began to glance over the wound in his side. He begged inwardly for another clean shot, his lip pulling to the side when he couldn’t find an exit wound, try as he might.

“Damn. That one’s still in there,” he said, knowing his bedside manner probably left something to be desired, but wanting to be honest with him. He fished in the med kit for the forceps, holding them up and fixing Goemon with an uneasy gaze.

“I’ll try to be quick,” he assured him, reaching up without a second thought to brush Goemon’s bangs out of his eyes. “I gotta do this now. You need something to bite or squeeze or whatever?”

Goemon’s eyes blearily met Jigen’s. He had started trembling, a small unsteady shake in all of his limbs, Jigen’s expression pale and concerned. Goemon hated seeing that expression on his friend’s face. He was better than this. Better trained. Better prepared. This pain should be nothing.

But Jigen’s presence was at least a comfort. Goemon’s free hand found Jigen’s shoulder. Finding a grip on the material of his suit jacket, their eyes meeting; Jigen’s expression turning more worrisome, his gut twisting at how Goemon’s normally sharp and steely gaze was getting hazy.

“Just… work quickly, please…” Goemon mumbled.

The marksman gave a short determined nod as Goemon squeezed his shoulder, swallowing thickly as he psyched himself up to do this. They’d been through worse, a couple little bullet holes wouldn’t be enough to take him out.

He hoped.

“Right,” Jigen managed, wishing he could conjure more words of comfort, but knowing that doing this and doing this now was the most important thing. He drew a deep breath, going back to examine the wound while sopping up some excess blood.

“Okay. Going in,”

Goemon tried to relax. But pain was making that all the more difficult. He tried to breathe as slowly and as deeply as possible. Shutting his eyes and nodding.

He had to clench his teeth hard against the scream that nearly tore out of him at the first contact of the forceps, the sound becoming half a growl, half a pitiful whine of agony. It was one thing to be shot- it was entirely another to have a set of forceps digging around in his body for a bullet. His whole body snapped tense and his breathing became uneven. He fought the urge to writhe, instead just white-knuckling Jigen’s jacket, so tight the fabric nearly torn under his fingers. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes before spilling over--

--And then the bullet was pulled free Jigen gave a relieved sigh and Goemon collapsed back onto the couch, panting hard, his eyes nearly rolling back. Jigen set aside the bullet and pressed a cloth to the injury with a small relieved smile.

“It was in one piece. Even if you were a fool, at least you were a lucky one,” Jigen remarked, keeping pressure on the wound to try to stem the bleeding as he looked back up at his face. Goemon teetering on the edge of consciousness, vision blurry with lingering pain only pulled back from passing out by Jigen’s hands pressing a cloth to his side, and his voice- much gentler than usual beside him.

“What’d you do, Goe?” the marksman asked, the subtext ‘why didn’t you let me come?’ hanging in the air between them.

The samurai took a moment to catch his breath- especially now that it was easier for him to do so. His hand was still on Jigen’s arm- although his vice-like grip had relaxed. Finally he opened his eyes.

“I… I wanted a better look… at the location of Lupin’s next job… went to stake it out… myself…” His still bleary eyes met Jigen’s and he felt the unasked question. It made his stomach twist with guilt. “I apologize… had I realized it was dangerous… I would have asked for your assistance…”

They were technically supposed to be on a vacation. Lupin had already chosen the location of the next heist (some corporate building, Lupin had not gone into much detail), and apparently made “all the necessary arrangements.” Which could have meant anything and was far too vague for Goemon’s liking.

His voice faded, he didn’t really have a suitable reason he had excluded Jigen. Perhaps it was the lingering training that was ingrained into his bones-- his own self assurance that he could handle himself whatever the circumstances. Or perhaps he had just assumed- incorrectly, that Jigen would rather utilize his downtime for actual relaxation.

He half shrugged, expression slightly pathetic. Any excuse feeling hollow in his throat.

Jigen kept firm pressure on the wound as he listened squinting slightly as it seemed like Goemon was working up to tell him something. He huffed a small sigh as it seemed to come to nothing in the end, shaking his head as he pulled back the cloth to check that the bleeding had stopped.

“I take it back, you are a fool,” the marksman teased, halfheartedly focusing on cleaning up the wound at his side in preparation to disinfect it. “If you had told me you were planning to get yourself turned to swiss cheese, I might have asked why, but I still would’ve been your backup. Alright, this is gonna sting.”

Goemon half grimaced as the disinfectant did just that. But it was not enough to make him cry out again.
“Thought you’d know that after all this time, but I guess you’re a fool now, huh?” Jigen flicked his eyes up to the samurai’s face for a split second, giving a sad sort of half-smile before starting in on bandaging and wrapping the wound in gauze.

Goemon’s stomach continued to twist into knots. This had not been his intention, but that didn’t matter.

“It… was not my intention to become… swiss cheese” Jigen’s terminology sounded foreign in his mouth, the marksman huffing a slight laugh at him adopting the vernacular. “I simply wished to… better understand what we were up against…” he said, looking up at the ceiling again for a moment, unable to handle Jigen’s sad smile directed at him.

If anyone else had made Jigen this sad, Goemon would not hesitate to slice them in two with his Zantesuken. What then was he supposed to do with himself?

“I am a fool.” He said, voice incredibly solemn (in a way other people would probably find funny, but which was completely and utterly serious for Goemon.)

“Hey, I was joking.” Jigen tried to protest “You’re not a fool. I was just-”

“I'm sorry.” Goemon interrupted, his eyes finally flicking down to meet the marksman’s gaze. “ It will not happen again, Daisuke.”

Jigen paused. He couldn’t describe what it was he felt whenever Goemon called him by his first name, but whatever it was felt warm and light and leagues better than the fear and worry and guilt that had been consuming him.

He finished dressing the more worrisome of the samurai’s injuries, moving up to the next point of concern, his stomach twisting slightly at the prospect of leaning in so close to the samurai’s face. Dutifully he removed the blood-soaked towel from his shoulder, cleaning and disinfecting this wound in turn. Finally he dressed the wound, giving an affectionate sort of smile from under the brim of his hat as he finished up.

“It’s okay, Goe. I get it. Just let me come along next time, huh? Just in case. I was… I was worried” he said, lifting his head to meet his gaze again, his own expression warm and fond now that Goemon was out of immediate mortal peril.

The Samurai stared at Jigen, observing his expression carefully, the way the warmth returned to his face in the form of a huff and a slightly fond expression. It did bring something of a blush to Goemon's face although he couldn't necessarily say why. Perhaps it was the relief and the pleasant way that Jigen's smile pulled his features, along with the little nickname that he had taken to using in more private situations... or maybe it was just some of the blood returning to his face.

"Next time." He said, with a nod full of all the seriousness he could muster, "It is a promise."

Jigen caught Goemon’s eyes for a moment, seeing the flush to his face and pressing his hand to his forehead to make sure he wasn’t getting feverish, much to Goemon’s embarrassment. Pulling his hand back when satisfied that he seemed alright on that front, sitting back on his heels and giving a nod in return.

“Good, thanks,” he replied for lack of anything better to say, not quite sure what to do with his hands anymore now that Goemon was patched up for now. He would go for a smoke, but he didn’t want to agitate Goemon’s healing process and certainly didn’t want to leave him.

To (briefly) escape Jigen's eyes and the embarrassing direction this encounter had taken, Goemon looked down at himself. A frown pulling at his features at the havoc his injuries had wrought. The bloody, rumpled, half discarded yukata, his hakama, which was similarly bloody on his right side, and beginning to dry, making half his body slightly tacky. The rest of him was bathed in cooling sweat. He dreaded to think what the couch beneath him looked like... Or what Lupin would think when he came back.

He sighed "I have made quite a mess haven't I?"

Jigen’s gaze followed Goemon’s down his body, wincing a little at just how much of his blood had been spilled tonight. He rubbed the back of his neck and gave a small shrug.

“Yeah,” he affirmed, sitting up slightly. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get you cleaned up and into bed,” He said, gingerly tugging his top layers the remainder of the way off.

Goemon had almost forgotten that his other hand had been gently resting on Jigen’s shoulder, and was not reminded until Jigen sat back and his arm slipped off him. Goemon quickly drew it back in order to assist in helping Jigen fully remove his top layers, shedding them in order to fully assess the damage. Now that he was completely drained of adrenaline (and a liter of blood or two) he felt exhaustion creeping in. The desire to be clean and slip under the linens in his bedroom became a much more prevalent thought in his mind. He nodded, eyes watching as Jigen stood up and hurriedly left the room.

Perhaps in his mind Goemon had imagined Jigen helping him on his unsteady way to the bathroom but his hazy mind, seeing the marksman leaving seemed to posit that the man thought him capable of doing it on his own. When Jigen returned with several towels, a few damp from the kitchen faucet, Goemon was about to attempt to push himself up to a sitting position.

Jigen himself felt whatever sixth sense he’d developed about his closest companions begin to act up as he hurried back, sensing the samurai’s intentions. It came with knowing him far too well, having seen a thousand times the way he would try to handle everything on his own. It was what got him into this mess in the first place.

“Don’t even think about it,” he insisted gruffly as he made his way back to his side, starting immediately in on cleaning him up so he didn’t feel the need to chance trying to do it himself.

More than the words, it was Jigen’s look that really stilled Goemon from attempting to shove himself up. The look (somewhere between worry, commanding, and gentle concern) even silenced a slightly stern comment that almost rose to his lips—- something about being able to at least sit up by himself.

Foolishness of course.

“Look, I’ll help you take a real shower soon,” Jigen said, stern, but mild. “But for now you’re stuck with a quick sponge bath from nurse Jigen so we can get you to bed faster, alright? Just gimme a sec,” knowing both he and Goemon would feel better the quicker he got him into bed.

He chose not to think about how his brain had phrased that one.

Goemon just nodded and obediently laid back again. Maybe slightly more tense than he had been before but… hardly noticeable. He tried to keep his thoughts from straying too far. Especially not to how close Jigen’s face was to his torso as he cleaned him up diligently, or the way he had said “Nurse Jigen”. It made his mind's eye stray to… unbefit places.

Embarrassed, he focused on Jigen’s hat to avoid having to look at him anywhere near the eyes.
“So, the job’s a bust, do you think?” Jigen asked after a long moment or two, just for the sake of conversation as he scrubbed gently at any splotches of blood he could find.

Goemon was thankful beyond all belief for the question to give him something else to think about.
“Perhaps…” he hummed, “If it is to continue, Lupin will need to account for snipers on the roof, not just ground patrols with dogs…”

“Yeah. Next time I just gotta snipe them before they snipe us. Maybe that’ll clear the way enough for us to get inside,” Jigen mused, not actually caring that much about the job, but happy with something to concentrate on besides sponging down one of his best friends like this. It shouldn’t be weird, he’d seen him in various states of undress a thousand times before, he really wasn’t sure why this time would be any different.

“Yes, perhaps. If we entered from the roof after dealing with the snipers we might have less trouble…” the Samurai said, sparing a glance down at Jigen who was glancing up at him at the same moment, Goemon looking away quickly again when their eyes met.

“I’m just gonna…yeah..” Jigen coughed slightly and continued dabbing away the last few patches of blood and sweat from his side and hip. “Uh, how many guards in total?” he asked, again finding mundane things to distract from the fact that he was currently doing his damndest to take Goemon’s remaining clothing off, tugging a little at his ruined hakama to get the last of the blood cleaned up.

Goemon closed his eyes, he did not allow himself to think about the way Jigen had to pull at the waistband of his hakama. Absolutely not. Simply trying to allow his mind to think back to the guarded building. He would need to do some serious meditation after this. To regain his composure in the wake of… whatever this was.

“Two snipers… at least three ground patrols, it seemed like about five in each group, each with a dog…” He intoned.

Jigen’s eyes flicked back up only to meet closed eyes, feeling it tug at him a bit. The guy must really be in pain, both physical and spiritual. Jigen knew this must be hard for him, always on about his dignity and honor and staying in good with his ancestors or whatever, which was probably taking some dings as he was needing to rely on Jigen to take care of him. He knew it would only be worse if he drew attention to it, so he resolved to just get this done for Goemon as soon as he could so he could get some rest.

“Got it, should be doable,” Jigen replied, deciding not to bring up the fact that they wouldn’t be doing anything of the sort until Goemon was fully healed up.

The Samurai of course knew that. They could talk about it and plan it, but he knew that Jigen and Lupin both would absolutely not allow him to participate in this condition, and Goemon would absolutely not allow the two of them to do this job without him. Especially when a mere stakeout of the place had gone so wrong.

Thinking of that again made the small seed of shame in Goemon’s stomach start to bloom again. Making his stomach churn. In an attempt to keep his mind off his disgraceful performance this evening he went back to watching Jigen. Observing the way his hands carefully mopped up the last of the blood from around his hip and stomach. It was done with a kind of gentleness that Goemon did not usually associate with the marksman. It brought up all sorts of images to the back of his mind which he tried fruitlessly to ignore, trying to appreciate Jigen’s care without his fuzzy brain insisting on making it anything more.

Jigen gave a last sigh, setting aside the thoroughly ruined towel, standing with slightly creaking joints and ferreting around just enough to get a glass of water and fish some painkillers out of the med kit.

“Alright. Painkillers, then bed,” he instructed, handing over the pills and water which Goemon took gingerly, before placing a hand at the back of Goemon’s neck to help him lean up a bit to swallow them.

Goemon groaned slightly as he was assisted into something more of a sitting position, the samurai trying to ignore the goosebumps he got as Jigen gently held the back of his neck like that. He took the pills and drank nearly the whole glass of water before setting it aside and glancing up at Jigen. His face was much closer to him than it normally was, and the wafting scent of gun oil, whiskey, and stale cigarettes permeated the air, briefly overpowering the smell of blood and disinfectant. Goemon gave something close to a wry smile.

“I don’t suppose the kind nurse would allow me a sip of sake before bed would he?” He said before his brain seemed to catch up with his mouth and he nearly blanched.

Blood Loss. He would blame that on the blood loss.

Jigen himself had been ready to drop his hand and pull back when Goemon’s gaze seemed to pin him in place as their eyes locked, his hand still just, holding the back of his neck.

It wasn’t enough that Goemon’s small smile made his stomach do a small backflip, but then he had to go and speak in a way that was so soft and somehow almost sensual enough that it made heat begin to creep up the back of his neck.

He probably looked pretty foolish himself just now, mouth just slightly agape as he kept his hand braced on his neck and willed his brain to come up with anything to say to that.

“Uhh,” Great job, Jigen. Try again.

“Y…Yeah, okay. Just a sip,” he managed, finally removing his hand from his neck as he stood back to his full height and quickly busied himself with getting him a small cup of sake, hoping whatever samba his stomach was doing would settle before he had to face him again.

He composed himself the best he could before returning to his side, steeling his nerves enough to kneel next to him again and offer the cup.

“I know I’m a soft touch, but this is all you get. Don’t go angling for more just because you got shot,” He managed to meet his eyes again, smiling despite himself and despite how he hadn’t done much to quell the heat in his face.

Goemon took it gratefully, he hadn’t expected to get his way, but he certainly was not fool enough to say no if Jigen would actually fetch him some. The pain in his shoulder and side had dulled to low, occasional throbbing, and Sake was his normal form of pain relief after all. He gave a small snort of laughter before knocking the drink back, downing all of it in one swallow and relishing the burn as it went down. Then he sighed, relaxing back against the couch.

“No… not tonight, thank you…” He yawned, before fixing Jigen with another hooded look—- the painkillers and the briefest touch of alcohol only making him more tired.
“Although, I may use it as an excuse for more tomorrow, Daisuke…”

He stretched out his arms to wrap around Jigen’s shoulders, knowing that next they’d have to make the tenuous trek to his bedroom.

“Ha, we’ll see how far that gets you, Goe,” Jigen lightly teased back, raising his eyebrows as Goemon suddenly reached up and slung his arms around his neck. He held fast, wrapping his arms around his nearly naked friend. “Uh, okay. Bed, yeah, bedtime,” was all he could say for a second as he helped Goemon to his feet, encouraging him to lean his weight against him. He shuffled a bit awkwardly at first in the direction of Goemon’s room, gingerly adjusting his hold on him to make the trip a little easier without jostling his injuries too much.

Goemon needed no encouragement, leaning heavily against the marksman, his head spinning as he was helped to his feet. He didn’t have time to think about Jigen’s hand on his hip. He sagged more of his weight onto Jigen as he struggled against the sudden vertigo, his head lolling, basically coming to rest in the crook of Jigen’s neck.

“Almost there,” Jigen murmured, holding him steady as they crossed the threshold to the bedroom. Goemon made a noise in response, a half hum, half groan as he trusted Jigen to lead him.

Jigen smiled sideways at him, enjoying this more affectionate and relaxed version of Goemon. He liked him regardless, they had always gotten along despite Goemon’s more rigid nature up against how Jigen generally played things fast and loose, but it was still nice to see him loosened up like this.

Well, maybe not quite this loose, he thought, feeling him sag even further in his arms, bracing himself to take on more of his weight as Goemon’s head lolled against him. He adjusted his grip and dropped his center of gravity a bit to better lug him along, holding him close as he maneuvered him to the bed, pulling back the covers and patting his back gently.

“Alright, man, we made it. Putting you down now,” He put a hand to the back of his head, leaning down with him to deposit him onto the bed. He lifted his legs to get him into bed completely, pulling the covers over him and resting his hands on his own hips as he just observed him for a moment, as though worried he might immediately try to get up again.

Goemon seemed almost asleep until he was laid back down, in truth because he didn't trust his voice. As Jigen tucked him in he kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady, waiting for his stomach to settle and his mind to clear. He did however hear Jigen’s next sentence;
“Don’t move, alright? I’ll be right back.”

He heard Jigen exit the room quickly and quietly. By the time he was back Goemon was able to crack open an eye to watch him as he set down the water and the med kit before flopping down gently beside him in bed

“I don’t think I could get up even if I wanted to.” Goemon said, solemnly after a moment.

The Marksman gave a satisfied nod at that, Jigen pleased that at least he didn’t have to worry about that.

“Good. You just worry about getting some sleep. You’ve got nurse Jigen on call tonight, after all, for better or worse,” he said, as he made himself comfortable on the other side of the bed over the covers.

Goemon too shifted around for a moment, attempting to get as comfortable as he could, given the circumstances. Even still he continued to watch Jigen out of the corner of his eye.

He imagined what this night would have been like if things had gone differently… better— or worse. Goemon could have died, or he could have had an uneventful night staring at a guarded building… or, his mind supplied, he could have brought Jigen. He should have brought Jigen. They were a team after all. That’s what Lupin and Jigen always said. It was why they complained so much when one or the other went off on their own. What good were they on their own? How foolish was he to think himself better than either of them?

The shame reared its head again, gnawing at his insides, mixing with the hit of sake and the painkillers now making his limbs heavy and his eyelids droop. Still, he stared at Jigen, his emotions warring for a moment.
Finally, he brought a slightly sluggish hand to run his thumb gently across Jigen’s cheek down to his scruffy jaw and chin. When he spoke his voice was a low rumble, half drifted to sleep already.

“I… hurt you… I am so sorry Daisuke… I will not let it happen again. I am grateful that you are my partner.”

Jigen, similarly, was ready to drift off any minute before the small brush to his cheek made him pause. He lifted his hat up enough to get a look at Goemon, a fond smile growing on his face as the samurai spoke while in the midst of drifting off himself.

“It’s alright. We all do dumb stuff, I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said, feeling a warmth sparked within him at the way Goemon called him his partner with such reverence.

“Me too,” he murmured, reaching over to run his fingers through Goemon’s bangs and tuck a stray bit of hair behind his ear.

“Good night, Goe.”

Goemon did not even get to hear Jigen wishing him good night. He fell asleep, a smile on his lips feeling Jigen’s hand running through his hair as gentle as can be.

~~~~~

Goemon slept hard. Dreamless, and almost unmoving. Someone might have mistaken it for death were it not for the deep rise and fall of his chest.

But sleeping off two gunshot wounds wasn’t enough to disregard decades of rigid training.

He woke with a start when he heard the door to the hideout bursting open, nearly sitting up and grabbing Zantetsuken before he felt a painful pull in his side and groaned. Jigen jumped too, readjusting his hat and making sure Goemon was still next to him first off.

Neither of them relaxed any until they heard the voice which echoed from the living room;
“Oh Hellooooo~! Dont tell me you guys are still sleeping!” Lupin’s voice called, overly cheery before he seemed to trip over something (judging by the noise). “Oh, what the hell, you guys? Why is there blood everywhere!?!”

Goemon sighed. Allowing Zantetsuken to slip back into its sheath and lay back in bed, a hand coming to his side.
Jigen sighed and relaxed when he heard Lupin’s voice, scrubbing his face with a small groan.
“Oh, you know. We thought, what better thing for a Friday night than some bloodsports? Goemon got hurt, you friggen moron,” he called to the living room with no real bite to it.
“You okay?” he asked as he turned his attention to Goemon, worried he might have agitated and reopened his wound when he was startled awake.

Goemon had leaned his head back to take a few deep breaths, settling the adrenaline which had attempted to surge up in him at the startling sound of the door, his injuries throbbing worse than ever. When he opened his eyes again he met Jigen’s gaze, the gunman looking him over for any bleeding or other signs of distress. Goemon gave a small nod.

“I am alright Jigen. Just… stiff.”

Jigen’s shoulders dipped in relief when Goemon met his eyes, giving a half smile at seeing that he was alright, the tenderness of the moment somewhat undercut by Lupin noisily making his way through the living room.

“Goemon got hurt?!? I gave you two the night off! What’d you do, go for a joyride? Geez, that’s really irresponsible, you know.” By the time Lupin had finished speaking he had made his way down to Goemon’s room. As he entered and took in the scene his face split into his signature wide grin.

“Jigen, you sly dog, I mean, I know you’ve had the hots for him, but taking advantage of the infirmed doesn't really seem like your style.” He said with a hearty chuckle.

“He was staking out the next heist, that’s all. He’s fine,” the marksman explained, bristling and making an annoyed wordless sound as Lupin accused him of…well, exactly some of the feelings he had been struggling with.

“Yeah, didn’t I tell ya? Nothin’ turns me on like gratuitous bloodshed. Why doncha come over here and I’ll make you pretty too, huh, Lupin?” he finally returned, huffing and leaning back against the bed.

“Dont tempt me too much, Jigen dearest, or I just might.” Lupin retorted with a lascivious raise of his eyebrows that made Goemon blush deeply and cough in embarrassment, looking up at the ceiling, as if looking to avoid the conversation entirely.

“You two are ridiculous.” Goemon said, though it was more to himself. Lupin snickered, Jigen cutting in before Lupin could make it any worse, seeing the way the thief’s grin widened still further.

“Don’t worry about it, Goemon. He’s just trying to distract us from how he struck out with Fujiko and got grifted all at once, am I right?” he said with a knowing gaze at Lupin from under his hat.

“I’ll have you both know I had a lovely night with Fujiko. She even gave me a future heist idea. How much money I lost is irrelevant.” He finally said, dusting off his suit jacket in a way that perfectly showed how much he was deflecting.

“There it is,” Jigen crowed, putting his arms behind his head and sitting back on his laurels over that small victory.

It was short-lived, however, Jigen feeling a pang of unease when Lupin’s expression fell to something closer to serious—- or at least Serious for Lupin.

“But, seriously, though, what’s all this about a stake out and getting shot? I’d really rather you spend your days off drinking and paying for cheap hookers than getting shot doing overtime.”

Goemon sighed, closing his eyes as he felt the shame at his own failure rising up in his gut again. It was not as if he was worried Lupin would be angry—- such a thing was not in character for him. But even still… to admit how badly he had messed up, and knowing how that mess up would change their current plans made him cringe, the words of apology and explanation stuck in his throat.

Jigen’s eyes flicked over to the samurai, sensing the shift in energy in the room.

“It’s my fault,” Jigen said instantly, without an ounce of hesitation. “I didn’t go with him. He found out the hard way there are snipers on the roof, which will be no problem for me when he’s healed up and we actually do the job,” he said confidently, not wanting to let Goemon linger on his mistake when it had given them valuable intel for next time.

Goemon, however, did not seem to understand the sentiment. His eyes flew open, his stomach suddenly roiling in a heady mix of shame, embarrassment, and discontent as Jigen continued.

“In the end it’s a good thing he went. Now we know what to expect.”

“That is incorrect!” the samurai interjected, Jigen hardly finishing his sentence before Goemon forced himself up to a sitting position, ignoring the pain that lanced across his body in the process. Lupin’s expression actually flashed alarm for a moment at Goemon’s sudden movement.

“Hey man, I-“ Jigen tried to interject, but Goemon cut him off, leaving the marksman agape.
“I left on my own and was too complacent, allowing myself to become compromised. It is my fault alone, Jigen is blameless.”

“Jeez Goemon, okay, okay!” Lupin said quickly, stepping a little further into the room and throwing Jigen a look as if he would say anything to get the injured man laying back down again. The two’s eyes met and Jigen gave a short nod, bowing his head as Lupin did his part to diffuse the situation. “Fine, I’ll blame you! It’s not like I was actually gonna be mad or something. Who do you take me for, Pops? I'm just glad you’re okay!”

“Okay, Goemon. It’s all your fault, alright? Just lay back down,” Jigen added in his best soothing tone, reaching out to squeeze his uninjured shoulder and give him a gentle look to hopefully encourage him back down.

“Lupin is right. We’re just glad you’re okay.”

“All Jigen did was ensure that I remained alive after the results of my foolishness.” Goemon said fiercely, although he did settle slightly, feeling the gentle squeeze on his shoulder. When he glanced over and met Jigen’s gentle gaze it struck him oddly. Their eyes locked, the two of them just staring at each other for a long moment. Jigen’s lip pulled into what he hoped was an understanding smile, gently rubbing his thumb along his shoulder to further calm him.
The shame still rested deep in the pit of Goemon’s stomach, but with Jigen giving him that look, it began to war with a floatier kind of fluttery feeling which made his cheeks heat up slightly again.

His head trying to parse what he was feeling made it all the easier for Jigen to ease him down, the marksman feeling marginally better just by seeing him fully horizontal again.. A good thing too. Goemon thought he felt the injury on his side begin to slowly bleed into his bandages again—- though he did not draw attention to it, instead giving a slight frown and looking away from Jigen’s intense stare.

“It was my error. But I assure you it will not happen again. I shall be more vigilant next time.” Goemon said.

Jigen puffed a small sigh as he felt the tensity in the room begin to ebb, glancing from Goemon to Lupin with a helpless sort of shrug.

Lupin’s shoulders relaxed an infinitesimal amount. Despite the carefree tone he spoke in, it was clear he was relieved to see Goemon laying back again.
“Alright, alright, let’s just move on from all the blame nonsense so we can focus on the interesting question this poses.”

His smirk was playful, as he paused, waiting for the two to inquire.

Jigen was always grateful for Lupin’s particular flair for the segue, laying back on the bed as his friend artfully maneuvered the conversation to a lighter fare. He watched Lupin with an expectant gaze as he paused for effect, sparing another glance at Goemon as he rolled his eyes with a small sigh. Time to play his part, he guessed.

“What question is that, Lupin?” he asked in a halfhearted lilting monotone, much in the way the audience of a comedy show might ask ‘how hot is it?’ when prompted.

The thief winked cheekily at them both.

“Why are there snipers on the roof?” He asked with a giggle, “I mean going into this we thought it was only a petty crime. But if they’ve got multiple snipers and dogs, that means they know the value of whatever they’re hiding.” Lupin seemed almost giddy with excitement, “There’s gotta be a jackpot in there or somethin’!”

Jigen hummed in thought, crossing his leg to rest his ankle against his other knee.

“Hate to say you’ve got a point, but you’ve got a point,” Jigen admitted, having thought himself that snipers on the roof were a bit much for the take they had anticipated from this heist. “Guess we’ll find out. Maybe it’ll be worth it, unless Fujiko involves herself and robs you blind. Again,” he jibed, raising a challenging eyebrow to his friend as if daring him to retort.

“I’ll have you know I-”

Goemon mostly ignored Lupin and Jigen as their conversing became a small spat—- he was listening (it would be incredibly rude not to). But he was not necessarily engaged in it. He was trying to breathe slowly and easily, in and out, to regain his lost composure and encourage his body to stop aching. Maybe if he could calm down he could sort out the strange sensation he had felt looking at Jigen. It was similar to the way he’d felt last night… but last night at least had the excuses of drugs, alcohol, and blood loss. Now though… now he was not on anything and yet…

His eyes drifted from the ceiling, over to look at Jigen out of his periphery, watching the way his half smirking smile shifted his handsome features, and the way he could just barely see black eyes watching Lupin from below the brim of his hat.

Peculiar…

Lupin paused, mid rebut to Jigen’s most recent jab, glancing between Goemon and Jigen for a moment before he grinned again.

“…Green tea.” Lupin said suddenly, apropos of nothing. “I’ll make some for us, and then we can rework the plan. Jigen, wanna help me?”

The requested man blinked curiously at Lupin’s sudden non-sequitur, his brows pulling together at the sudden shift in subject. He spared a glance at Goemon, wanting to make sure he was settled.
Goemon for his part was still mostly lost in thought—- though he managed a small raised eyebrow at Lupin. He had been trying to not make it obvious that he had been staring at Jigen. But he certainly wouldn’t say no to tea, even if he didn’t really trust Lupin to brew it to his standard.

“Uh, sure, I guess,” Jigen assented with a nod before being dragged out of the room by Lupin, who threw a wink and a wave at Goemon on their way out, leaving the bedridden samurai to stare at the ceiling again in deep contemplation.

“Alright, out with it,” Jigen inquired immediately when they were out of earshot of Goemon, knowing the man too well to think this would just be making tea.

Lupin just giggled enigmatically every time he glanced at Jigen, the gunman huffing a bit in exasperation. Lupin tottered around the small kitchenette, making a careful show of filling up the kettle and setting it to heat up on the stove. He retrieved several cups and Goemon’s special hand ground Shincha green tea bought in Japan before he finally turned to fully look at Jigen, grin still fully plastered across his face.

Jigen stared at Lupin, unmoved by his amusement because he could already feel that he wasn’t going to like whatever it was he found so funny. He leaned back against the counter, hunching his shoulders and continuing to glare at him, the little song and dance making him squirm in suspense.

“Damn you, Lupin, what??” he hissed.

Despite the thief’s laughter, Lupin’s voice was surprisingly quiet and serious when he replied. “You know he’s looking at you like you’re the sexiest puzzle that he’s dying to solve, right?” he said.

Jigen’s mouth fell open. His hackles rose instantly, whipping his head around to make sure Goemon had not suddenly appeared in the doorway and overheard that. He reached out to yank Lupin in by his tie, staring at him in wide-eyed alarm.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jigen asked in a strained sort of whisper, feeling his face heat up as a cocktail of embarrassment and annoyance rose up in him.

Lupin was completely unfazed, too used to rough treatment and far too comfortable with Jigen to really feel threatened. Even as Jigen shook him a little, the thief just grinned at him.

“You know what I’m talking about; Goemon. The only time he stops staring at you is when he takes a break to blush at the ceiling.” Lupin giggled again “I’m kind of jealous you know. I wish Fujicakes would look at me like that.”

Jigen stared at him intently, grip hard on his tie to keep him right there and not do something extra stupid like tell Goemon this wild idea.

“You ever think it’s a side effect of the fact that he almost died last night?? Did you also consider the fact that you’re a friggen idiot?” Jigen asked incredulously, trying to thread the needle of conveying his irritation while also keeping his voice down.

Lupin snorted. Jigen really was so stubborn about these things. But, then again, he supposed that not everyone could be as self aware and observant as he was.

“Blood loss is like anesthesia and alcohol! It always brings out a person’s true colors.” He said, “And I may be a ‘friggen idiot’ but apparently I still notice a damn sight more than you. Like the pretty damn obvious staring, or the fact that while vehemently defending your honor that wound in his side started bleeding again.”

Lupin winked again before spinning slightly to return to the tea set up, Jigen making an affronted noise as Lupin left him holding nothing but his tie. He looked from the tie and back to Lupin, grumbling a little and tossing the tie at him in frustration.

One of the most infuriating things about Lupin in this situation besides everything was just how close to the mark he had wound up. Jigen still couldn’t tell if Lupin was being for real or just messing with him, but either way it had him supremely unsettled. Was it really that obvious and he just hadn’t seen it? Or was it just playing into his wishful thinking so he’d make an idiot of himself in front of Goemon and not be able to look him in the eye for at least a week after?

Spooning tea leaves into the pot, Lupin seemed unperturbed. “You’ll forgive me if I leave the business of changing those bandages down to you, right?” He said, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “Then maybe you can just try to prove me wrong about him being head over heels for you. But I bet you 4 to 1 I’m right!”

“Dammit, Lupin, this isn’t over!” Jigen huffed, pointing at him before turning on his heel.

Lupin laughed for a second, reveling in seeing Jigen this out of sorts. It was rare that he actually got to see the man sweat, so he was taking the time to enjoy this as much as possible, though he did feel a slight twinge of guilt at alerting him to Goemon's slight injury. He hadn't really done it to be mean, just to make him aware--- Especially because the wound didn't seem bad enough to worry about, just newly scabbed .

His laugh is cut off mid-guffaw as Jigen hurried from the room.

"HEY-! I didn't mean-! I was talking about-! ugggh." The thief groaned, going back to the tea preparation and muttering something about Jigen taking the fun out of everything.

Jigen made his way to Goemon’s side of the bed, resolutely ignoring Lupin’s calls after him as he stood over the swordsman with his hands on his hips.

“Alright, let me see it,” he insisted with zero context, staring at the samurai expectantly.

Jigen’s intrusion prompted Goemon on the bed to open his eyes, having been laying back in a state of meditation and attempting a mantra and doing his utmost to still his mind and body. To ignore the images which surfaced, reminding him of Jigen gently washing the blood off of his body, of helping him to bed the night before. How he had clung to the marksman’s shoulder nearly in a stupor and pressed his face into the crook of his neck. It made him warm all over and made that fluttery feeling in his stomach increase. But as Jigen looked down at him, expression sharp and concerned, it caused Goemon to shift a little.

"...Pardon?" He asked, nonplussed, and now mildly concerned himself.

Jigen’s lip pulled to the side in an expression of disbelief, nodding his head towards his covered midsection.

“Come on. Lupin told me, so just show me,” he insisted, crossing his arms and waiting for him to get the picture.

The brief nod did help the samurai to get a little bit of what the man was implying, but still he remained perplexed. His expression still slightly quizzical he pulled back the covers off of his midsection and lower body, laying relatively open for him to observe. Goemon scrutinized Jigen’s face, the marksman breathing slightly more heavily, his cheeks slightly pink, but besides that his face was somewhat paler than usual. Goemon was clueless… unless…?

What had the thief said to Jigen? Had Lupin noticed his glances? Noticed the way Goemon had been staring at Jigen? No… surely not…

Jigen himself would never admit that Lupin had ruffled him, doing his best to push down whatever feelings Lupin seemed determined for him to confront. At least, until he could make sure Goemon was healing up okay. And then maybe…

Maybe what? He still had no clue what he was feeling, or what Goemon was feeling. The only indicator was the hint from Lupin, which very well could be bullshit. Jigen certainly didn’t want to believe that it was made up, both because he hoped Lupin wouldn’t lie about something like this, and because, well…maybe he distantly hoped it might be true.

He stood over Goemon without moving, just staring down at him and waiting for him to understand what he was asking. He gave an affirming nod when Goemon finally cautiously pulled back the covers, his eyes raking over him before zeroing in on the wound at his side showing a bit of bleeding through and a slight drip from its underside down to the sheet.

“There, see. You shoulda said something,” Jigen lightly chastised him with a small sigh, moving to the other side of the bed to grab the med kit and sit on the bed next to him. Goemon flushed slightly when he realized what it was that Jigen was so concerned about. The tension that had wound tight within the gunman ebbed for a moment, steadying himself to take on cleaning up and re-dressing his wound.

“Just gonna change this, hold still,” Jigen requested gently, carefully removing the old bandages so he could clean up the injury and re-wrap it.

“Apologies” Goemon said honestly “I really didn’t notice it…” He settled back into bed, arm slightly raised so Jigen could have more space to work.

“It’s okay. Just be a little more careful when you defend my honor next time,” Jigen replied with a smirk, unable to resist ribbing him a bit. It was sweet, really, how readily the samurai had leapt to defend him when he was just trying to diffuse the blame. Goemon really was something else.

He moved quickly to change over the bandages. As he did, Goemon laid his head back. His eyes softly closed again, expression as close to serene as he could get it. But, it was difficult to ignore Jigen’s soft fingers against his skin. The way his signature scent of whiskey, gunpowder, and cigarettes wafted into his consciousness. The impossible to ignore warmth that kneeled on the bed very close beside him.

It made him heat up slightly, made that fluttering feeling in his stomach rise up again. Almost unconsciously, his raised arm came up to comfortably rest on Jigen’s shoulder, as it had done the night before, the contact drawing a soft smile to Jigen’s face.

“I will be abrasive as necessary in defending your honor.” Goemon said firmly, eyes still closed. “Although next time it is necessary, hopefully I won't be sporting two gunshot wounds.”

Jigen chuckled, unable to help the overly fond smile that spread across his face. “Yeah, I’d take it as a personal favor if you don’t get yourself shot again. Alright, should be all good,” he indicated, reaching up to pat the arm that rested on his shoulder.

“Pain coming back? You can probably have some more painkillers by now,” Jigen indicated, glancing over him to appraise his condition.

Goemon opened one eye to glance up at him. “I'm not in any more pain than is to be expected.” He returned.

“Alright, but no more sake.” Jigen added, leaving no room for argument.

A slight, almost pouting frown passed across Goemon’s face. “You are a cruel man, Daisuke Jigen.” He huffed, with no real venom behind it.

Jigen didn’t reply for a moment, busying himself with putting away the medical supplies and setting the kit aside. He reached for the corner of the blanket to pull it back over him, giving a gentle pat to his chest before sitting back against the headboard with a relieved exhale and half chuckle, giving a shrug.

“Yup,” he affirmed, resting his hands behind his head as he got comfortable. “I’m the worst, and you’re stuck with me,” He grinned over at him, counting himself exceedingly lucky for that fact. He truly didn’t know what he’d be or what he’d do without Goemon or Lupin, and he didn’t much want to think about it.

Goemon continued to frown pointedly in Jigen’s direction. Until he couldn’t maintain the facade anymore and his expression broke into a small soft smile. He glanced away—- back to the ceiling again as he flushed slightly.

“I would not have it any other way, Daisuke.” He said softly to the ceiling.

The comment gave Jigen pause as considered him for a long moment, taking in the samurai’s features, the way the man said his first name, all the while his mind wandering back to what Lupin had said.

World’s sexiest puzzle, huh?

He scoffed a little, shaking his head at the idea, because it was clearly ridiculous, in spite of the warmth that swelled up in his stomach at the thought of it.

The noise caused Goemon’s eyes to flick back to the marksman, an eyebrow raised.
“Is something the matter?” he inquired.

Jigen met Goemon’s eyes, smiling ruefully and shaking his head a little. “Nah, nothing’s wrong, Lupin is just an idiot,” he said, raising his voice to make sure Lupin heard that part. He debated internally for a moment how forthright to be, shrugging to himself because what would it hurt to be honest with him? It was ridiculous, right? They could have a good laugh about Lupin’s foolish notion and that would be that. He could pack away whatever foolish notions of his own he might have and they could all carry on as normal. The samurai continued to just raise his eyebrows at him, because of course he knew Lupin was an idiot, but that hardly narrowed down what might be bothering the marksman. After a moment of internal debate, Jigen finally spoke again.

“Lupin thinks you…” he paused, not quite sure how to say it at first before deciding to just lay it out. “He thinks you have the hots for me or something. Crazy, right? I’m sure he just hasn’t turned off his horny brain since hanging out with Fujiko.”

It was like a final puzzle piece fell into place just then, finally revealing a picture that Goemon had guessed at… but couldn’t entirely describe.

The strange stirring of his gut when he and Jigen were close. The easy way he had fallen into his arms the night before with hardly any complaint. The way his mind hyper focused on the small details of Jigen’s smile… the treasured glances at his eyes.

He had felt like an utter fool for these thoughts bouncing around in his head before, thinking them indications of a restless mind in need of focus and yet… didn’t Lupin also make himself a fool for the love of someone…?

Did he…?

Goemon stared at Jigen, eyes wide, mouth dropped slightly open, face slowly going from pink to a deep red. He seemed utterly incapable of intelligent speech.

The silence that fell over them was palpable, Jigen meeting Goemon’s eyes and unable to do much else but stare for a long moment. He searched his face for any indicators, ready to jump out of the bed and leave him alone if what he told him made him even the slightest bit uncomfortable. He didn’t think this would ruin anything between them, certain that it’d be way harder than that to shake them, but it might make things a touch awkward for a bit.

Goemon meanwhile was reeling. Did…did Jigen thinking Lupin was stupid for having this idea mean he would reject Goemon for those thoughts?? The brief moment of inspired realization was suddenly overshadowed by dawning embarrassment and fear.

Realizing you were in love with someone was a lot easier than telling them you did.

“I-“ Goemon started, but his words vanished. He looked stunned, uncertain and slightly flushed, and Jigen knew he probably looked much the same.

Jigen’s eyes searched the samurai’s face, hoping against hope he wouldn’t make an ass of himself, but knowing he’d always regret it if he didn’t try.

“Damn, or maybe I’m an idiot,” Jigen murmured, heart thumping wildly in his chest as he tried to come up with what to do next. He felt frozen in place, looking for a red or green light in a situation that seemed firmly stuck on yellow for the moment.

“Am I an idiot, Goe?” he breathed, shoving doubt to the wayside and putting himself out there on the precipice for Goemon to take or leave as he chose.

Slowly and carefully, Goemon pushed himself into a more upright position. Sitting up, hunched slightly so as to not jostle his injuries, and looking at Jigen all the while- although he had thankfully managed to close his mouth.

Reaching out a slightly shaking hand he ran his thumb gently down Jigen’s cheek to his jaw—- a repeat of his motion the night before. It sent a thrill up Jigen’s spine just as it had then, but now he was doing nothing to mitigate or quash it, letting it spread flickering heat through his every cell at the possibilities now laid out before them.

“It would seem…” Goemon said, voice so soft it almost couldn’t be heard, “that we are both fools, Daisuke.”

Jigen swallowed thickly, leaning in to make sure he caught every word. He could only stare at him uselessly for a moment, willing his mind to come up with something, anything to say when all he wanted to do was close that scant distance between them once and for all. He tilted the brim of his hat up to better take in his face, leaning into the hand at his cheek as he stared at him.

“Guess so,” was all the gunman managed at first, grasping desperately for any sort of direction in this. “What, uh…what do we do?” he asked, knowing it was probably a dumb question, because he knew what he wanted to do, but he had to be sure Goemon was on the same page.

Jigen’s face was warm in Goemon’s hand, and these revelations almost made the samurai dizzy. This close he could fully appreciate the scent of him, the unobstructed view of his dark eyes and the faint blush creeping high on his cheeks. A similar blush was creeping high on his own face as he wondered the same thing as Jigen. Goemon had just opened his mouth to perhaps start a reply when a voice cut him off from the doorway.

“Oh for God’s sake, just kiss! You already look like the cover of a romance novel!”

In a flash of movement, a loud THUNK, and a squeal, Lupin was gone again—- having fled back to the living room as Goemon had thrown an unsheathed Zantetsuken at him, blade first. Said blade was now embedded nearly a foot deep into the door, piercing through the wood and sticking out the other side. Goemon of course would have never actually hit Lupin… but the intent was there.

Jigen meanwhile had his hand halfway to the gun in his belt before he stopped, watching Lupin run back up the hall and out of view.

“Please respect our privacy! I am still injured.” Goemon yelled after the thief.

Jigen gave a breathless little laugh and dropped his hand, turning his attention back to Goemon with his face alight with utter adoration.

“God, I love you,” he said instantly, reaching up to cup his cheek as Goemon leaned in. The samurai was afraid he’d lose his nerve if he didn’t take advantage of this surge of courage and adrenaline, which had him finally leaning in to finally kiss Jigen.

Jigen returned the kiss gratefully, sure he was out of practice, but finding himself fully unable to stop grinning against his lips. He tilted his head to get a better angle, stroking his thumb along Goemon’s jaw and all but melting into the affection.

Goemon leaned wholeheartedly in. Despite his lack of experience, it felt right, easy to just slip into, to cup Jigen’s face gently and tilt his head just so to kiss him deeper and longer. Jigen was warm and soft, and so overwhelming that Goemon almost felt himself growing dizzy again. He wrapped his arm around his neck—- perhaps to steady himself, perhaps to draw them closer, it was hard to tell.

Jigen readily pulled him in close, kissing him deeply and letting all the anxiety that had built up about his feelings just fall away. It hadn’t been wishful thinking, and now Goemon was here in his arms and kissing him like his life depended on it. It was ridiculous how much time they had wasted dancing around each other when they could have had this, but now they had all the time in the world to make up for it.

The kiss broke after another long moment, Jigen leaning into him as Goemon rested his forehead against his. Jigen’s face ached with how hard he was grinning, playing absently with Goemon’s hair as they held each other.

Goemon panted gently as they parted, looking into Jigen’s eyes smiling so hard it hurt. Jigen chuckled in elation as he gazed at him, utter fondness in his eyes.

“Well, look at us,” he murmured, still so blown away that they made it here. He dropped his voice somewhat conspiratorially, flicking his eyes up to the open door that Lupin had peeked in through. “You know he’s gonna be absolutely insufferable about this, right?” Despite his joke, Jigen didn’t look all that bothered about it, more amused than anything. He didn’t imagine much could bother him now that he had Goemon in his arms, after all.

“Yes, he will be quite horrible…” Goemon said absently, leaning a bit more against Jigen as they pressed in close, one hand fussing with Jigen’s collar absently. He closed his eyes, not really caring much about anything except the feeling of Jigen close to him, the hand playing with his hair making him as relaxed as any meditation ever could.

From the living room, as if on cue, they heard Lupin calling.

“I did tell you so Jigen! I did! You owe me a fat stack now too and don't think I won't collect if all you two are gonna do is canoodle all day!”

It was too funny. Too soon. And all the things that had gotten them here so random and perfect. There was little else to do; Goemon threw back his head and laughed.

His shoulder and side still ached, but that didn’t matter much. Nestled close in Jigen’s arms with Lupin grumbling in the living room. All was right with the world.