Title: Waiting for Lupin
Author: Ligeia
Fandom: Lupin The Third
Pairing: Jigen/Goemon
Rating: PG-13
Category: humour, romance
Summary: Jigen and Goemon are stuck in a country house waiting for Lupin.
Italian version: Aspettando Lupin
Lupin III, Jigen, Goemon, Fujiko and inspector Zenigata are © Monkey Punch. I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.
"Damned Lupin!" Jigen was sitting on the ground in front of the hearth, rubbing his hands together and uselessly trying to warm up. "Dumping us here in the middle of the night with this cold. He'll fucking get a bullet between his eyes this time."
"Don't make promises you can't keep."
The voice of wisdom. Goemon was sitting in a corner of the room, back straight and legs crossed, in perfect samurai style. Those were the first words he had spoken since the two of them had arrived in that old house lost in the country. They had to wait for Lupin but, as usual, Lupin was still nowhere to be seen.
"Yeah, whatever. Hey, how can you sit like that? Aren't you cold?" Jigen moved closer to the fire, stopping only when he could feel its warmth on his face.
"A real samurai is never cold." Stoical. Inflexible. The statement would have sounded very convincing, had it not been followed by a sneeze.
"Sure..." Jigen chuckled. "There's room here if you want, but you're free to stay there and freeze your butt off if you like."
Goemon threw him a stealthy glance, got up and, silent as usual, joined him. His fellow thief was rummaging in the inside pocket of his coat; a short time later he produced a small bottle of scotch.
"Excellent to fight off the cold," said Jigen as he unscrewed the lid. "Want some?" He asked lifting the bottle and offering it to his friend.
"I only drink sake," the other replied haughtily.
"Yeah, I know, mighty samurai, but I'm out of it at the moment," Jigen shot back. "Well?"
After a moment's hesitation, Goemon grabbed the bottle and took a sip. A wave of heat instantly spread from his stomach and stuck in his throat. He almost coughed it all back up.
"Awful," he muttered, but he took another sip. That was going to be a long night after all.
+++
Half an hour later the bottle was empty and Goemon felt the room move with him every time he looked around.
"I thought you could hold your alcohol better than that, great samurai." Jigen had never seen his friend's eyes look so vacant and found the situation quite funny. The famous Goemon Ishikawa, master of the art of the katana and last heir of a glorious samurai dynasty, floored by a sip of scotch.
"Hic!" Goemon tried to hide the hiccup, but failed miserably. "It's that foul American stuff you made me drink. I'm sure it was damaged."
"I drank much more than you did and I'm quite all right." Jigen smirked. "It's not dishonourable to admit you got drunk, you know."
"For you, maybe. What do you know about honour, anyway?" Goemon leaned on his sword and started to get up, but the room began to swirl around him and he found himself back on the ground. The pain in his bottom was nothing compared to the wound to his pride.
"Hey, take it easy, we need you alive." Jigen put a hand on his shoulder, to prevent him from getting up rather than to comfort him. "Look, I bet Lupin is off having fun with Fujiko and we won't see him before dawn. Why don't we take turns waiting for him? I'll go first. Wake you up in a couple of hours, all right?"
"Are you offering me your pity?"
"Nope, just a logical and convenient solution."
"Tsk, logical solution..." Goemon curtly straighten his kimono. "Unfortunately that awful thing you so kindly offered me has seriously undermined my physical and intellectual condition, so I'm forced to accept your offer."
"Good. D'you want me to... uhm... walk you to the couch?"
"A true Japanese man doesn't sleep on a couch." That said, Goemon turned his back to his friend and lay down on his side, the faithful katana clutched in his hands.
Jigen shook his head. "Goodnight."
"Mph."
+++
Goemon didn't know how long he had slept. Not much, considering it was still dark outside. He was definitely feeling better: no headache, no nausea, arms and legs still where he had left them. Good. There was something strange, though. The first thing he noticed was the warmth, a warmth that didn't come only from the old fireplace. Something was covering his shoulders and back, something scratchy and smelling strongly of tobacco. Jigen's coat. And the second thing. A hand was caressing his hair. He looked up and met his friend's dark eyes. He had removed his hat and placed it to dry near the fire.
"What are you doing?"
Jigen took a deep drag of his nearly consumed cigarette -why were his cigarettes always crooked?- and threw the butt into the flames. He exhaled slowly.
"Nothing."
He pulled his hand away.
Goemon sat up. The coat slid down his back and a shiver ran down his spine. Jigen was staring at his old, threadbare hat. The firelight cast red shadows on his gaunt face. As he was looking at him, Goemon wondered if his beard was as rough as it looked. Almost without thinking, he reached out. No, not rough. Well, not soft and smooth either, but...
Jigen turned towards him. The samurai realised what he was doing and quickly pulled back his hand.
"You're a half-blood, aren't you?" No Japanese man could have looked like that.
"My grandfather was American," Jigen replied scratching his chin and smoothing his beard. "He's the one who taught me how to use a gun." He stopped talking and a wistful expression appeared on his face, one that Goemon had never seen before. "He died years ago, killed by a woman." That last word expressed all the disgust the man felt towards the female gender.
'Well, that explains his misogyny,' Goemon thought. He was about to ask him if he wanted to sleep for a while -he suspected his "rest time" had lasted more than the agreed two hours- when he saw him tense up. Moving very slowly, Jigen reached out his left hand towards his hat and put his right one on his holster. A muffled noise came from the small window on the wall behind them. The two nodded to each other and turned around in the same instant, Goemon ready to unsheathe his deadly katana and Jigen holding his gun in front of him.
On the windowsill was a small owl that, scared by the sudden movements, flapped its wings and took off.
"Damned bird," Jigen grumbled putting away his weapon. "Gave me a turn."
"Yes," nodded Goemon. "Go to sleep now, I'll keep watch." He briefly studied the horizon. It had stopped raining and the sky was slowly clearing. "It's nearly dawn and Lupin hasn't arrived yet."
"I told you, Fujiko probably let him do her and he completely forgot about us," Jigen lay down on the couch and yawned loudly. "I hope that bitch steals all his money, down to the last penny, so next time he'll think twice before choosing her over us. Horny bastard."
Goemon looked at him in silence. After a few moments he went to him and lifted his hat. "Do you wear it when you sleep too?"
Jigen looked at him. The same look the samurai had seen earlier, when his friend was stroking his hair. Jigen's hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him down. Taken by surprise, Goemon lost his balance and had to rest his knee on the couch to avoid falling onto his mate.
"What..."
He couldn't finish the sentence. Jigen put his free hand on the back of his head and kissed him. A hesitant kiss, almost shy, but not awkward. Jigen's lips moved slowly against his, his tongue slid gently in and out of his mouth, leisurely tasting his essence. He loosened his hold on his wrist and slid his hand inside the ample sleeve of Goemon's kimono, caressing naked skin. The samurai shivered.
Jigen bit Goemon's lower lip and broke the kiss. His dark eyes were sparkling. "I've wanted to do this for a long time."
Before Goemon could reply they heard the rumble of a car and the screech of brakes. They both got up at once. A few moments later Lupin opened the door and closed it loudly behind himself. He greeted the two men with his usual mischievous grin.
"Hey, guys! D'you spend the night well?"
Goemon turned round and sat down cross-legged on the floor. Jigen lit up a cigarette.
"Oh, you two are so boring!" Lupin exclaimed sitting down astride the arm of the couch.
Jigen went to the window and looked at the desolate landscape illuminated by the first rays of the sun. The worn brim of his hat hid his pleased smile.
-----
January 2005