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Despite having encounters with his rival almost daily, Jackal couldn't shake the nerves he felt as he approached the cafe where his rival had told him to meet. The feeling welling up inside him could only be described as paralyzing, clearly not physically, but definitely mentally.
Something in his gut told him that his rival was planning something, but for the sake of the outing, he didn't do any snooping beforehand to check. It wouldn't be fair, he told himself. In fairness though, neither of them were the type to play fair.
Turning the corner with caution, he arrived at his destination, the striped awning and outdoor seating giving an almost familiar look to the area. With no obvious sign of his rival, and still keeping his guard up, he walked towards the entrance, only to be startled by a whistle seemingly directed at him.
He turned, coming to face the gaze of his rival, as proper and annoyingly handsome as ever. Jackal felt himself blush, but tipped his hat down to hide it and walked over to the table.
“Nice to see you didn't flake on me, Jackal,” the man in white said smugly. His rival just sighed, sitting down across from him and crossing his arms, hat still tipped down. “You know, I was half-hoping you'd show up in a disguise.”
“I prefer decoys,” the black-dressed spy replied.
“Like that time with the robot girlfriend?”
Jackal's blush intensified, the remembrance of that embarrassing loss almost overwhelming. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Don't kid yourself, sport. I relished watching that metal miss stomp you into the ground.”
Jackal slammed his hands on the table. “Well it wouldn't have happened if you didn't trick me with that stupid attractive female disguise of yours! It was bad enough you stole my original date, but then you just HAD to humiliate me in such a juvenile fashion! Why do you even care about who I see?”
“I don't know. Why did you care so much about getting those cookies and that note to me yesterday?”
Jackal opened his mouth to retort, but found himself speechless. There was no excuse he could come up with that would be convincing enough. He'd been caught red-faced AND red-handed. He had to address it.
“Okay, you got me. I have a crush on you, Dagger. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you going to hit me with a club or something now?” he admitted bitterly.
“Hehe, no, nothing that special,” the white menace said with a sly grin, cupping his rival's face. “I just wanted to say that I like you too. Why else would I invite you out like this?”
Jackal wanted to say something. Anything to clear the tension. Snap them out of this odd exchange.
But all he was met with was a kiss.
A deep, sweet, passionate kiss from the man he'd spent so much time trying to beat. This felt wrong. Weird wrong. But so, so right at the same time.
After what felt like an eternity, Dagger pulled back, a string of saliva tying their lips together, just for a second. “Heh, are you okay, Jackal? You're as red as a beet.”
Jackal was at a loss for words, hearts popping above his head as he registered what just happened. “I- uh, I- uh…”
Dagger just put a finger to his lips and smiled. “Shh, it's okay, Jacks. Tell you what, why don't we ditch this joint and go back to my place? I need to get some ‘information’ out of you anyway.”
“S-Sure…”
“Brilliant. Thanks, babe.”
With that, Dagger picked up his lovestruck, still-delirious rival, slinging him over his shoulder. The coming “interrogation” would be very interesting indeed.