law of love

niko opens, then closes, a variety of apps. checking who might be around, broad daylight or otherwise. seeing who might recognize the back of his head from his profile photo. without the fingers wrapping through the loose curls in his hair, of course.

eye contact is incidental, but with intent. he's not trying to communicate 'follow me' or 'lead the way', but there's no helping what people might assume from a notification and a glance. to make his intent more clear, niko heads to a bench, rather than anywhere more private -- not like that's stopped anyone before. but still, it's the intention that counts, at least sometimes.

whoever might arrive would get a little up-nod, a knock of his chin towards the spot beside him. a beckoning of the barest minimum. if they came to play, they could go, or not; that's up to them. what really mattered, was catching their eyes for a little longer than a moment, to see if he could recognize that same pull that dragged him across the country on his own.

pocketing his device, he followed the map already sketched out in his head to the meeting place the other party had arranged. the sun was still out, which made this quite unusual, but he had been chasing something out of the ordinary these days. an itch, a call, a song beneath his skin. could this person hold the answers?

holding onto that small bit of hope, he spotted his mark soon enough by those telltale curls. the images he'd been sent matched the real person too, which was a bit of a relief. law offered a friendly smile as he settled beside the other man, one arm slinging itself across the bench, looking pointedly around before casting a sidelong glance at him.

“law_of_verse here.” a quick, sideways finger salute. “so, this is a weird question. uh, please feel free to disregard it if you just wanna go ahead with the hookup, but… are you here in new york because something called you here?”

The shock of the handshake almost made him gasp. The name lingered in his mind for only a moment. Jude. A lie. Maybe not. He couldn't prove it. But instinct was instinct, and his had rarely steered him wrong. Still There wasn't any reason to make a scene over it so he let it pass.

"Off duty," he answered with an easy shrug. "Had the sudden urge to visit New York." A quiet chuckle escaped him before he added, "...though I have a feeling you already knew that."

The compliment hit his ego in just the right way. chest puffed ever so slightly. He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "I've been told I look my best in blue."

His eyes narrowed just a fraction, not suspicious, just curious. "Can't say I've ever had someone try to pick my pocket and flirt with me at the same time." The corner of his mouth tugged into another smile. "Can't decide if I should be impressed... or offended."

but of course, law would always end up on the other side of the bars. his rebellious streak deemed it so. still, as zeke said, he was off duty. “yeah,” he agreed to the next part of the other’s statement, nodding as he looked around the park. “don’t know what the heck is happening. maybe they microchipped a bunch of people while we were sleeping, and now we’re following the signal.” it sounded like an apt metaphor for the pull in his chest, an irresistible tug.

“i’d like to see you in blue,” he followed up smoothly, letting his smirk soften into something almost … coy. seductive. it all came with natural ease. “well, one of those things is true.” zeke could figure out which. “i like to impress, not offend.” a chuckle. “so, what’s your plan here? this… sudden urge – you have any guesses as to what it is? because i’m renting a place only until the end of the week, and i need to get my answers before that. new york is quite expensive.”

“Nah, I ditched ‘em back in Van," Casually dismissive, Colt didn’t meet Lawrence's eye with the remark, instead he lobbed the pack of gum between the two of them. “Deadweight, y'know?” He fidgeted the pack out of his breast pocket before sliding a cig between his teeth. “But what – you sayin' you got an anonymous job offer or something? Then flew your ass out here?” He didn't know how shit worked in Lawrence's circles, Colt had to laugh though. “I thought my ass was crazy, you're gonna end up in a bathtub full of ice – missing a kidney.”

There was something off about the other, or different. Colton had always had a set of eyes, and this guy had to know how he looked – no one smiled like that without knowing. It wasn't that, but it was also that. Just… Different. Different in the way that Colton felt different. Connected almost, he knew it in the way he could hear the car that just backfired nine blocks away, how he could distinguish each lash over Law's lids with a glance. Quicker, sharper, more observant. Colton had changed too.

he caught the tossed pack of gum with ease and frowned at the response. "hm. you all seemed to work pretty well together, though." law shrugged. perhaps they had a falling out, but he didn't probe further. instead, he rolled his eyes at the next comment, brushing it off with an easy chuckle. "kid, crazy is being an international art thief. international. that means i don't have to stay in one place." he paused, briefly glancing around before leaning in conspiratorially. "but yes, it is fucking weird."

colt stilled then, looking at him with an odd intensity. scrutinizing. marking. it felt less like a man's gaze and more like... an animal's. did that even make sense? regardless, law kept his composure as two fingers reached for the cigarette tucked between the other's lips. he plucked it free, brought it closer to inspect it, then slipped it between his own lips with a smirk.

"so, if you're not here with your crew... why are you here? joining a new group?" law produced a lighter and flicked it open, holding the flame to the tip of the cigarette. he was definitely one of those people who made smoking look like a work of art. blame it on his french genes, or something else. “if you want to work with me, you can't,” he teased with a mouthful of smoke, puffing it out with each word. “i'm doing kind of a lone wolf thing.” 

The world was rising to greet him in crescendo day by day, growing louder the longer this hunt went on, and the closer he got to the heart of this strange hymn. Thrumming through his veins was a melody so old Colton could hear it moving through the leaves, in the heavy wings of pigeons, and it told him everything he needed to hear: run. 

Run because you can, because you were born to chase. To hunt and be hunted in return. 

A new rooftop to feel the asphalt crunch under his shoes, a new place to feel the rush of air in free fall. If whatever was pulling him to New York didn't kill him, it had to be only a matter of time before a rail slipped between Colt's fingers. But that was all part of the fun, wasn't it? A swing that saw his frame arc in a crescent through the air before snapping into a roll that saw him to his feet as fast as any hare. 

His chase brought him to the outskirts of Central Park, to lungs that laboriously filled with air until his heart rate settled faster than usual. Pulse quieting, peace returning; Colton was nothing if not an opportunist and he wanted to know how easy this city was going to be. The marks back home were easy to spot: nice clothes, fancy watch, briefcases for the extra cocked. 

Colt fell into step, a wolfish whistle singing from between his lips as he went in, felt, and moved to extract. The mark's reaction was quick, much quicker than it had any right to be. Colton was generally small enough to duck away or under from most, but instead he followed the other's momentum and felt the wall at his back; the proximity would normally be dangerous for him were it not for the knife gripped in Colt's free hand, pressed noticeably against the narrow slip of Lawrence's rib cage. 

Brow furrowed, lip curling, venom sat on the tip of Colt's tongue before he hesitated; reigning in the malice in favour of familiarity. “Guess Museum Mile would be perfect for you, eh?” Colton didn't lose slack on the knife, but the arm snagged by Lawrence flexed as he looked from the other's hand, then to his face, “Now – you gonna let me go or do I need to take more than your fucking spearmint?” 

the grip around his arm did not relent. running into a contact he'd briefly worked with in the past was hardly a novelty, but running into one while he was trying to figure out why he had been brought to this city? now that smelled of suspicion. disregarding the obvious threat leveled against him, lawrence pressed, "did your crew bring me here? i mean, i would've appreciated a heads up, at least, if you did." he clicked his tongue, searching the other's expression for any hint of an answer.

only after a few moments did he let go of the other's arm, taking a step back and holding out an open palm. "my mint, please."

It was enough of a distraction that it took him another heartbeat to notice what the other man was doing. A hand drifting just a little too close to his pocket. Fingers reaching out for nothing a touch that could be called flirting had he been caught by any one else. Twenty years on the street had taught him to watch hands before faces. Pickpockets, addicts, kids trying to prove something. They all reached the same way.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "that's the wrong pocket." Without much fanfare, Zeke reached into his jacket and flipped open his badge just long enough for the shield to catch the light before tucking it away again. "I keep my wallet up here." He tapped the breast pocket of his jacket before letting his hand fall. "Cop habit."

There was no disdan in his voice. He had been drawn to the man for a reason that even and attemped robbery couldn't overshadow that. "The jeans are from H&M nothing speical about them." The hit of thier meeting started to fade the world coming back to edge of vision. "Zeke" he held out his hand seeing if the other would take it.

law's jaw twitched almost imperceptibly at the flash of the other's badge, and he fought the urge to show even a hint of recognition at what it represented. that would just be a blind admission of guilt, wouldn't it? instead, he simply nodded, his smile brightening. "smart move. you never know when someone's trying to pick your pockets around here, am i right? that's why i don't carry anything in mine." to prove his point, he pulled the linings of his jacket pockets inside out: completely empty.

but they both knew what had been attempted. an unspoken secret lingered in the air, keeping it charged as he accepted the other's offered hand. the moment their skin touched, something jolted through him, like the snap of static electricity.

"jude," he greeted, the lie slipping off his tongue with practiced ease. "so, mr. cop, are you on some... undercover mission, or just taking a stroll through the park before duty?" he chuckled, his eyes gleaming as they swept over zeke once more.

he nodded appreciatively at what he saw.

"you do look like someone who'd fill out a uniform nicely."

François Arnaud Birthday Bash 2026

Still, he couldn't stop who he was. Zeke made sure his car was locked before letting his feet guide him into the park. It felt aimless, but at the same time it didn't. Every step felt chosen before he had taken it, like something beneath his skin had already decided where he was going. The steady beat that had lived in the back of his mind the past month started to get louder. It settled beneath his heartbeat until he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake the tension free. It didn't help. The more he moved, the faster his heart raced. Then his eyes locked with someone across the path. A stranger, yet somehow not. The city kept moving around them. Conversations drifted by. A jogger squeezed between strangers. Somewhere deeper in the park, a dog barked, followed by a burst of laughter. He could even hear a couple starting to argue down the block, but none of that mattered.

"I... I don't know how..." He paused, brow furrowing as he searched a face he'd never seen before. "...but I know you."

"Who are you?"

new york provided him ample opportunities for indulgence, too: the distracted commuters who were too busy or late to notice anything amiss, the corporate suits always talking too loudly on their cells and invested on a deal, the clusters of families with too many children, and so, so many other easy targets. his fingers itched around the coffee cup they held, asking for service. a quick swipe-- harmless. nothing substantial, except for maybe a wallet full of cafe coupons. 

but he resisted the itch, if only because something else skittered beneath his skin with too many legs and a strange restlessness. it felt like that beat of adrenaline under the jaw whenever he was on the run, pursued by someone, except it did not fade the way adrenaline eventually would. he thought of it as some latent anxiety, yet it felt too … present for such. 

the other shoe had to drop soon. three days since he arrived and, despite a strange slew of run-in’s with other people, he hadn’t figured out the reason as to why he was here. already a part of him wanted escape, away from whatever this all-consuming tug in his chest was. already a part of him wanted to go back to his old haunts, old trades, old misgivings. there was a man up ahead, clean-cut and all too formal. perhaps a quick swipe of his pockets wouldn’t hurt. perhaps it might even bring some respite. perhaps– 

law blinked, eyes snapping back to focus.

he shook his head, then pulled together an apologetic smile as he met the other’s gaze. “sorry, what?” i know you, the other had said, but he wanted to hear it again. plus, his left hand was already brushing up against the other’s left pocket, eager for a find. law dropped the hand but a moment later, whistling at the man’s trousers like they were the best piece of clothing he had ever seen– a lie of immense magnitude. “i was just going to tell you how great your pants are! been meaning to get myself a pair like these.”