#jack.writing

“You know, I’ve never been to Japan,” Rabbit admitted as he looked around the apartment they were renting for the duration of the heist, surprised by the fact that Jigen and Lupin let Goemon pick it. “Every time I need something to end up here, I just send it with Gallow.”

Lupin looked at him funny, clearly curious why he just sent it with Gallow. Normally, he never trusted just his brother alone with important things like that. “Why? I thought you liked the idea of going to Japan?”

Rabbit stared at him for a second, before pulling the bottle of xanax out of his pocket and shaking it lightly. “Lupin, you had to drug me to get me on that plane without the heat of battle pushing me. I hate planes. And you can’t get to Japan fast enough on boat.”

“Right, you always take a boat to get wherever you want,” Jigen spoke up, dropping his bag on the floor. “You’ve never traveled just for fun? Zenigata never brought you here?”

Rabbit simply shook his head, dropping his own bag as well before pulling off his jacket. “Zenigata moved to America for me and my brother. He didn’t wanna force us to travel with him, especially when he realized I was never gonna set foot on a plane.”

His explanation just got a “huh” from the two other men, but they didn’t get the chance to ask more because once Goemon entered the room he grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the bedroom they’d be sharing with Jigen.

“Well- bye I guess,” Rabbit waved awkwardly at the other two before the door was shut and Goemon was taking his usual place on the middle of the floor. “Alright, are you going to explain why you pulled me away?” he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly.

Goemon simply hummed, moving to pat the floor next to him. Rabbit sighed, and sat down on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him. There was silence for a moment, before the samurai finally spoke up.

“There is an ongoing festival around this time of the year, a snow festival. I was… hoping that I could ask you to join me in it. I know you don’t see snow often,” Goemon told him, a light blush dusting his cheeks. He was so, so easily embarrassed.

Rabbit was quiet for a moment, before letting out a soft chuckle. “Goemon… I hate snow,” he told him, which made the samurai’s blush deepen. He was clearly about to apologize, but Rabbit cut him off. “It’s okay though. I can tolerate anything if it means extra time with you. I’ll join you in the festival.”

That garnered an ever so small smile from his boyfriend, before Jigen crashed the party by joining them in the room and falling face first onto the bed with a groan. That was practically a signal to join him and accept their fate in sleep.

—

“I feel more frozen than the ice sculptures,” Rabbit commented, staring at the sight of his breath in the cold air, clinging to Goemon’s arm for dear life, as if the samurai would suddenly be warmer than usual.

Goemon just hummed, having already gotten used to his lover’s complaints about being cold. But, since he hadn’t run back inside, he knew the complaints weren’t serious.

He simply took Rabbit’s hand in his own, pulling him further into the festival. “I’ll get you something warm to drink,” he promised, glancing around for somewhere selling tea or hot chocolate (he never liked the stuff himself, but he knew Rabbit adored it).

It wasn’t long before he found one of them, the hot chocolate. He bought a cup in the biggest size they had, and gave a small smile at the grin that lit up his lover’s face when it was in his hands. “Oh, I do so adore you, Goemon,” Rabbit said, pressing a kiss to his cheek before taking a cautious sip.

They continued through the festival after that, looking through the different stands (Rabbit was legally obligated to buy the keychain of the previous year’s winning sculpture- it was beautiful!), before they finally got to the sculptures.

“I’m surprised you didn’t wanna join the competition,” Rabbit commented, while they were looking at one of the only finished ones. “With you and zantetsuken, you could have won without problem.”

Goemon hummed in response, as if he was thinking over his reply. “I did not feel it was necessary for me to join. I’m not in need of money, and I have never participated in something like this.”

Rabbit stared at him for a long moment. “Goemon, do you ever do anything for fun? Just… by yourself? I know you do a lot with me and Jigen, but do you ever do anything fun by yourself?”

The samurai had to think that one over for a long few minutes, before letting out a sigh and shaking his head.

“Huh,” Rabbit muttered, before shaking it off and taking a longer sip of his hot chocolate. “Next year, we’ll join the competition. Just me and you, and we’ll have fun. How’s that sound?”

Goemon glanced down at him, before smiling. “That sounds wonderful, Jack. I would love to join it with you.”

They spent the rest of the day exploring the festival and even once getting dragged into a snowball fight with a bunch of kids. It was wonderful and fun and so worth the way Rabbit felt frozen solid by the end of it.

Eros had a bad habit of going out in the cold without proper protection.

He wasn't sure WHY he was incapable of just checking the temperature before he went out- part of him just assumed he was always immediately dressed correctly.

One day he's learn. Maybe.

Today, however, was not that day. It was the middle of fall, getting closer to the colder weather. He expected it to just be the regular chill, so he'd only worn jeans and short sleeved t-shirt. Of course, he was fucking wrong, and it felt more like winter.

But he was stubborn, and refused to go back to his apartment to grab a coat or something. He'd rather freeze than divert from his path.

Luckily, the town therapist seemed to realize that.

"Forgot to check the temperature again, huh?" Archie asked as he came up next to Eros, an extra coat and scarf draped over his arm, just like always in the colder seasons. "You really should make a habit of it."

That drew a laugh from Eros, as he took the offered coat and shrugged it on. It was a tad too big for him, but comfy, and it held the distinctive scent of old books, which undoubtedly came from Archie's office.

"Here, don't forget this," Archie added, hooking the scar around Eros's neck and loosely wrapping it around. "There. If we're lucky, you're less likely to freeze now."

Eros took a second to make sure he was comfortable, before leaning forward to press a short kiss to Archie's cheek. "Thanks, doc. Dunno what I'd do without you."

Learn how to check the temperature, probably.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(2)

Rabbit hated crowds. He hated feeling trapped, like he couldn't escape. It didn't help that he could no longer see Jigen and Lupin, which immediately made him think he was alone.

Until warmth engulfed his hand, and he realized Goemon was still right next to him.

Feeling significantly more calm, Rabbit let out a huff of breath, glancing over at his lover. "Do you think they got trampled? Seems pretty likely to me."

Goemon nodded slightly, though Rabbit knew him well enough to know that he didn't genuinely believe it.

"Perhaps more likely, Lupin has been distracted by a woman and Jigen is just standing the middle of a group, waiting for a chance to slip away," Goemon said, looking over at Rabbit with a quirked eyebrow.

Knowing him, he was probably right.

"In that case, we should probably find our own way out of this crowd," Rabbit replied, tightening his grip on the samurai's hand before he started to navigate through the crowd.

Eventually, they safely made it out, even though Goemon had to pull Rabbit back a few times so they didn't lose each other. And even when they were free, their hands stayed together, until they found the other members of their group.

Jack could never give himself a straight answer for why he became a detective. Anything but his brother’s death, anything but wanting to take down the petty thief that let him burn.

He told Zenigata it was because he wanted something simple that would keep him out of thieving for good. He told his partner at work that it was because his father worked for the ICPO, and he looked up to him. Even told the old lady that he visited for tea and gossip sometimes that it was because he wanted to make the world a better place.

But deep down, he knew. He knew that every criminal he brought down was brought down with Dean in mind. After every success, he visited his grave, replaced the flowers. Everything he did since the day he was old enough to do anything was for his brother.

And his newest target dedicated to the deceased was none other than the samurai assassin, Goemon Ishikawa.

His dad, Inspector Zenigata, was currently assigned to the case but since the assassin had now entered Jack’s jurisdiction, meaning he could now work it as well until it was solved, even if he went somewhere else. That was simply the benefit of having the lead investigator vouch for you.

Currently, he was off duty and at home in his apartment, going over the file Zenigata had gotten together and given to him. It was basically all the information he’d ever gathered on the samurai, with the exception of a few things that were ICPO exclusive.

He was really just trying to get a feel for the guy and his patterns, as well as look into his partner, Fujiko Mine. Every time he saw a picture of the two, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he recognized it, but brushed it off as knowing them in a past life, or crossing paths with them when he was still a thief.

Though, it probably wasn’t fair to say Jack was no longer a criminal. Zenigata never learned of the deep rooted pyromania his son kindled, so Jack was never sent to therapy for it. Because of that, he still liked to watch the fire roar, and went out of his way to make it happen.

He wasn’t sure if anyone had died in his fires. That wasn’t his problem, and he never paid attention to the news coverage on it. He didn’t want attention. He wanted the relief the flames brought. They settled that burning ache that was forever present in his chest, which he relied on to stay a good detective.

The fire wasn’t going to be needed for a while, since he’d gotten a hit about a week ago, and he’d grown enough to be able to hold off for several months now. His full focus just needed to be on this case, so he made sure it was.

However, if fire was needed to take out the samurai assassin, he wouldn’t complain about it.

One day, maybe, he would feel safe enough to go to therapy. Probably not, but a man could hope. Either way, the words on the page were starting to blur, so he figured it was a good time to stop.

He pulled his hair from its low ponytail, allowing it to be free across his back and shoulders. A quick inspection of the small scar on his jaw was made, and when he was satisfied he stripped to his boxers and collapsed on top of his bed. Despite how cold he was, he no longer slept with a shirt or under a blanket, because almost everything seemed to irritate his burn scars at night.

There was no explanation for that that he’d found just yet, but it’d be foolish of him to stop trying to figure it out. After all, he was always cold as fuck, and he missed being able to wear shirts at night.

But for now, it was sleepy time, and boy was he tired from trying to exist as a normal person in a world of so very fucked up things.

—

Waking up hadn’t been easy when Jack remembered his new job he needed to get up and go to. Truth be told, he hated being a detective, and he missed archeology. But thievery and digging wouldn’t honour his brother, and he would have died for Dean.

Getting dressed was more of an autopilot thing now, followed up by coffee and grabbing his helmet. He hardly remembered the ride to work, focused just enough to stop his motorcycle from running off the road. He couldn’t die, not yet.

He always got to the precinct before anyone that worked with him, sometimes before even the earliest risers. It made him feel secure, knowing that there was no chance of showing up late.

Today, however, he was surprised by his father sitting at his desk, looking through some of his old cases.

“You’re doing even better on your own,” Zenigata commented, smiling at him as he set the file down. “I taught you everything I knew, and somehow you still found more to learn. I bet no one ever expected a former thief to have such a near-perfect track record!”

Zenigata had always been too excited for his own good. Too proud. Jack simply huffed out a soft laugh, shooing the inspector out of his chair and offering up the one his partner usually used.

“I heard Perez is taking a different case while I’m on the samurai assassin,” Jack spoke up, glancing at his dad through the bits of hair his hair tie never contained. “Did you have anything to do with that?”

Zenigata’s immediate embarrassment was all the answer he needed. He’d be working directly with his father on this case, acting as his temporary partner for as long as Jack was on the case.

Of course, that was more than okay. Perez wouldn’t be able to handle something like this, they could barely even handle the homicides the two already dealt with. 

That was another reason Jack was put on the samurai assassin case- he was a homicide detective, and since the target was a murderer, it immediately entered his jurisdiction. And even if his father hadn’t asked for him directly, he was the one with the best track record, so he would have been put on it regardless.

“How long does he usually stay in one spot? Clearly long enough to garner attention, but does he have a set time?” Jack asked after he finished setting up his desk, having the file laid out on it.

Zenigata hummed softly, clearly thinking it over. “He typically takes three or four jobs in each country he ends up in, usually people connected to each other. He works for organizations a lot, and they have quite a few people they want taken out.”

So he was going to be here a while longer, since he’d only killed once since arriving in the country. He’d already ID’d the first victim a day or so before Zenigata came to the precinct, it was a pretty rich and upstanding guy- definitely the type Jack would have stolen an artifact from.

He didn’t wanna say he deserved to be dead, but he most certainly did.

However, the point was that he had connections. A group of people he worked with on a regular basis, ones that were just as rich and weird as him. The problem was that it was a large group of people, and it seemed the samurai assassin was never hired for groups bigger than four. 

That either meant he would have help, or they needed to narrow down who he was hired to kill.

“I’ve already narrowed down the list of people the victim was closest to, but it’s still over four. I think we should put a guard on all of them, just in case, and personally gather the ones that seem the most likely to be targetted. I’d also like to talk to his other friends, to ensure my list is correct.”

Zenigata stared at him for a long moment, but as soon as he seemed like he was going to drown him in praise, Jack cut him off. “Inspector, I’d like to talk to Miss Tanaka first. She seems the most likely to be attacked next.”

The inspector once again looked like a deer caught in headlights, but then firmly nodded and stood up a bit too fast, knocking the chair over. While he fumbled over his apologies, Jack simply moved past him, hooking his foot on the chair and just kicking it back into place.

It had been a year since Eros finally asked Archie out.

Well, “asked him out” is a bit of an understatement. It was more of a spur of the moment kiss after Eros found out that Archie was alive, but the date came soon after.

There wasn’t too big of a change in their relationship, to be honest. They had always been close, closer to each other than anyone else. Being together romantically was just their friendship with kisses sprinkled in. Also the fact that they had moved in together, and regularly went on ~romantic~ dates (heavily different from their friend dates (not really)).

Long story short, they had gotten comfortable together. While Storybrooke was not exactly… safe, they finally truly had each other, and so they were comfortable. Comfortable enough that Eros bought Archie a ring.

Admittedly, Eros never considered marriage. He’d only ever loved one person, and said person chose to become a cricket before he ever worked up the courage to confess his feelings. And, understandably, he did not intend to marry a cricket.

But now Archie- Jiminy- was human again. They were finally returned to each other, and he wasn’t going to give the universe any chance to pull Archie away from him again.

So he bought a ring, and planned to propose somewhere they both liked. Given they both have dogs (who, interestingly enough, were mates as well), they spent a lot of time in the local park. Archie was weary about the woods, so Eros was fine with the park.

It was where they had their first date, and all the people in town were always so busy so there was rarely anyone else there. Which was a good thing- because they were both way too anxious about their private lives to do something like this so publicly. 

It took a while for the perfect day to approach, but finally, it did.

“Arch! Perdita’s getting antsy, I think it’s time for a walk. You wanna leash up Pongo and head down to the park with me?” Eros called up the stairs of their house, clipping the leash onto his dog’s collar before standing back up, watching those same stairs.

He heard Archie move around upstairs, before he appeared on the top landing. “Yes! Just give me a moment to grab my jacket- do not forget yours. It’s on the coat rack next to your scarf, which you should also wear.”

Eros let out a soft chuckle at his lover’s concern, but he knew said concern was necessary. So, he hunted down that jacket and scarf, greeted by Archie leashing up Pongo when he came back to the door.

“Ready to go?” he asked after leaning down to grab Perdita’s leash again. Archie looked over at him, giving him that bright smile of his, before nodding a ‘yes’.

Eros opened the door for them, keeping it propped open with his foot for his lover and his lover’s dog, before following them out with Perdita by his side. She sat patiently next to him while he locked the door, and was rewarded with a pat to the head.

After that, they were on the move.

Honestly, although it was unlikely Eros would ever admit it, he was glad for the extra cold precaution. He could feel the fresh winter air nipping at his arms through his jacket, however it probably was worse for Archie. He hadn’t built up the same tolerance to the elements that Eros had.

So, with that in mind, he decided they should probably speed this up. He nudged Archie gently, before walking a little faster. Luckily, Archie got the message, and sped up as well.

It wasn’t too long until they reached the park, but Eros noticed the cold getting to Archie in the form of reddened cheeks and a little red tint on his nose. “Awww, I told you you should have camped in the winter more often with me,” he teased, pulling Archie down to press a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Eros, I couldn’t camp with you, we were always on the move,” Archie replied, putting a hand on his boyfriend’s back to get him to start walking again. “Though it would be nice to have your nigh-inhuman tolerance to the elements.”

“That’s just the benefit of being a hunter, my dear,” Eros teased, grinning up at his lover. “You can’t be very effective in winter if you’re shaking the whole time.”

That drew a laugh from Archie, and the sound brought a soft smile to Eros’s lips. When they were alone like this, in a place they both loved, there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to marry the man next to him. They waited so long to be together, and he didn’t want to wait any longer.

Though, he was not the one to bring them to a stop. Eros could tell Archie had something he wanted to say- he was doing that thing where he mentally hyped himself up and accidentally made it super obvious on his face.

“Arch?” he asked gently, his confusion probably extremely clear when Archie moved in front of him.

His boyfriend took one last deep breath, before pulling something small out of his pocket. Eros couldn’t see it yet, but he didn’t have to speculate long.

“Eros- Hellion- you’ve always been my closest friend. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, even if I didn’t realize it until, well, the curse was closing in on us. But the curse is gone, and I still didn’t make a move. I was scared you didn’t feel the same,” Archie paused to take a breath, the cold making it come out shaky. There was a moment where he hyped himself up again, before continuing.

“I don’t want to give us the chance to lose each other again, or to be stuck in some weird limbo that we won’t climb out of because we’re afraid of the consequences. I’m not letting you go, not again.”

“So…” he paused again, and finally revealed the object in his hands. A ring. A beautiful ring, that he probably meticulously picked out to make sure the gem was Eros’s favourite colour- green. “Will you, Hellion, be my husband?”

Eros didn’t know what to do. He brought him here because he planned to propose, and then Archie pulls out this beautiful ring with an equally beautiful speech… he should have expected this.

Archie opened his mouth, likely to prompt an answer or ask if something was wrong, but Eros cut him off with a tear filled laugh. “No no no no, I was supposed to do that,” he told him, laughing again as he pulled out the ring he’d bought. “Jiminy we- we really need to get better at communicating plans.”

There was quiet for a moment, before Archie laughed as well, running a hand through his hair before pulling Eros in for a tight hug. “You- you were going to propose too?” he asked, sounding deeply surprised, as if Eros wasn’t the one to make every first move in their relationship.

“Of course! Jiminy, you’re the only person I’ve ever loved as deeply as this. You mean everything for me, of course I wasn’t going to let you go! I had to make sure you wouldn’t turn into a cricket on me,” he replied, resting his forehead on Archie’s chest with a laugh.

So here they were. Standing in the middle of the park they spent so much time in, crying in each other’s arms because it was so on brand for them to try to propose at the same time.

After a moment, Eros looked back up, gently holding one side of Archie’s face with his free hand, which his lover leaned into. “Well, Jiminy, my answer is yes. A thousand yeses for all the times we didn’t make a move. It will forever be yes.”

Archie let out a soft chuckle and leaned forward to press a kiss to Eros’s forehead. “It’s a yes from me too, Hellion. I’m not letting you go ever again. No.. curse or royal family drama will ever pull us apart ever again. I promise.”

Of course, they had to make use of those rings, so they took a moment to slip on the rings made for them- Eros with the gorgeous green gem, and Archie with a band that Eros had gotten a cricket carved into.

And then Eros pulled his new fiance into a kiss; one that expressed all the feelings he’d ever had for the man into it. All the sadness he felt when they had to part ways, and the relief and joy he felt when they found each other again when the curse had broken.

Unfortunately, the moment was cut short when they realized that something was a bit off. And when they pulled back, they found their dogs’ leashes wrapped around their legs, and the culprits sitting there all innocent and shit.

“Seriously, you two?” Eros asked them, giving an incredulous laugh when Perdita looked sheepish and Pongo almost looked smug.

“I think they’re saying that it’s about time,” Archie offered, grinning at his lover before pressing a short kiss to his cheek. “I know that’s what I’m thinking.”

Eros rolled his eyes in response, but stole another quick kiss. “Alright, alright. But here’s what I’ll ask you, my beloved conscience: how are we supposed to get out of it?”

“Now, that’s an answer I don’t have,” Archie replied, and there was quiet for a second before both of them laughed.

Rabbit would never be sure how he managed to get Goemon to wear the necklace and rings he now does. The samurai seemed like he’d never bend on something like this, but all he had to do was show him the jewelry and he didn’t even argue.

The necklace matched the one Rabbit wore since he was thirteen, and looked gorgeous on him. He was pretty sure that part of why he agreed to it so fast was the significance the necklace held for him. 

However, the rings? That was actually Goemon’s suggestion. Neither of them were interested in marriage, nor was Jigen, so nothing like that seemed like it would be in the cards.

But Goemon had apparently just “found” these rings that he thought were perfect for them, and how was Rabbit supposed to say no? They were simple and silver, with small leaves on a vine engraved on them.

As far as Rabbit was aware, they only ever took the rings off when there would be water on their hands, otherwise always wearing them. It was like their own version of getting married. Something simpler. Something better.

Goemon always kissed the ring on his finger after they laid down together, right before going to sleep. Rabbit had picked up a habit of toying with his lover’s necklace whenever he was close enough.

They were so simple, and yet they brought the two so much closer together. Maybe it was the idea that Goemon would wear jewelry for him, maybe it was just the fact that it matched.

“Hey. Eyes up- you get distracted, and we’re gonna get caught.”

Rabbit didn’t even look up when he smacked his younger brother in the back of the head, regaining his attention. “You’re the gunman, slugger. My knives aren’t gonna do shit if I get shot.”

His brother, who was currently going by the name Gallow, scoffed at the mere idea of being responsible, but put his focus back on the rifle in his hands nonetheless. “Yeah, like they can even see us.”

They couldn’t, he was right, but that didn’t stop Rabbit from being anxious. Not only was security tighter than it would have been under any other circumstance, it was tighter because of some group of thieves from Japan.

He didn’t want to give them the credit of knowing their names- unfortunately, the only information he ever forgot was stupid shit. He also knew about their secret fourth member/rival. She was a handful, or so he’d heard.

Obviously, they were in America because they were hunting the same thing he was. But they clearly didn’t know what they were trying to steal from him- not like he did.

Rabbit was an archeologist by trade, and only stooped to stealing when he felt it absolutely necessary. He never did it for money, not anymore, instead using his skills to ensure that treasures are only kept and displayed by the most trustworthy of collectors.

Said collectors were usually his friends, ones he met in his youth. Ones he’s stolen for before.

He usually did things like this alone, his brother always had something better to do, but this was important and Gallow understood that.

“The first one’s still safe, right?” Gallow asked, watching the guards with the scope of his rifle. “I mean, your apartment ain’t exactly the safest place in the world,” he added, getting a side glare from his older brother.

“My apartment is the safest place for it right now. No one but me can get into it, and it’s inconspicuous enough that no one will think to look there. Better with me than with someone like you.” Rabbit grinned at the grimace Gallow made, before his attention was quickly grabbed again.

It was showtime.

Rabbit dropped from their perch, giving his brother a two fingered salute before making his way to the gates. He pulled off his jacket and jeans once he was right against the wall, pulling his dress down and flaring it out. He dropped everything in a duffel bag, strapping a knife to his thigh and- reluctantly- placing a small handgun in the purse he was going to carry.

Once done, he hid the duffel bag in a nearby bush. After fully straightening himself out, he walked up to the gates at the guard standing out front. He pulled a piece of paper out of his purse, handing it over to the guard with a sweet smile.

With that, the gates were open for him, and he strode past them and into the building beyond.

He loathed things like this. These fancy parties so rich people could gawk at an artifact that should be in the public view, in the country it came from. Like the set of four scarabs he was after.

There were four of them, and Rabbit already had the first. Each was made of a different gem, and they had been stolen. Not the way Rabbit and Gallow were stealing them, but in the way rich people stole. With money, and egos. With disrespect.

Rabbit was no saint, but he refused to be a villain like the people he was now surrounded by. Not that they saw him as anything but one of them, in his long and deep green dress, tight enough to look good and loose enough to conceal his knife.

He also didn’t like dropping money on clothes to wear to these awful gatherings. Standing there for hours to get fitted for a suit or dress that he can only wear once because otherwise he’ll be recognizable? Not fucking worth it.

… But he couldn’t avoid it. This was the only way he’d get a look at the security around the scarab before he went in when everyone was gone. God he hoped everything would go smoothly and that he could go in later.

“Don’t get your hopes up, brother o’ mine. The samurai’s outside,” Gallow’s voice crackled over the comms, making Rabbit grimace. He knew there was no way out of a bad situation.

Gallow had spotted the samurai, and Rabbit had just spotted the gunman.

Unfortunately, that meant the ringleader was nearby, and possibly the spy as well. She’d likely be dressed up all pretty, while the ringleader was more than likely in disguise. 

He wanted to look around and find them, but the showing began, and he knew it was too late to stop them. “We’re not getting out of here without a fight,” he muttered into the comm, glancing out the window his brother was targeting.

Gallow sighed, and Rabbit wished he could do the same, but he was too busy watching the target get put on the display stage. The man on it started describing it and the fact that it came from a set.

That was when Rabbit realized which one was the leader. The only one up there that wasn’t speaking, the only one that was eyeing it.

So he did something stupid. Something he’d regret. Something that might just give him the edge he needed.

“That’s not who you think it is- it’s the thief, Lupin III!” he yelled out, pointing at the offending man. “Just look! It’s a disguise!” Luckily, perfectly timed, one of the guards ran in with a card, yelling something about it being a note from Lupin III.

“We’ll be getting something out of tonight,” Rabbit muttered into the comm when the chaos broke out, watching as the guards grabbed Lupin and subsequently got smoked.

Rabbit took his chance, running towards the stage and lunging for the scarab. He got it right before the international thief could, quickly throwing himself back to avoid him. “Hey! That’s mine!” Lupin yelled, to which Rabbit responded by baring his teeth.

His victory was short-lived however. He thought it would have been the gunman, who had his pistol drawn, but it was not a bullet that hit his wrist- it was a shoe, and it hurt. He cried out in pain from the sheer force of the kick, but did not let go of the scarab.

Instead, it was forced out of his hand by a tight grip on his injured wrist. When he looked up to see who it was, he froze, knowing the face all too well.

“Sorry amor, no hard feelings,” the man said with a wink, throwing Rabbit to the side and making his way to the door.

Rabbit hardly got the chance to draw his knife before there were several guns pointed at his head. He always forgot that his former lover had armed guards on him at all times. They only let up when Olivier was out the door, and they quickly followed.

The thief only gave himself a second to mourn, before he was on his feet and storming out the doors. Not ONLY was everything ruined by that stupid asshole Lupin, Olivier had been there too? Was one scarab not good enough for him?

Rabbit kicked off his heels once outside, unsurprised when the samurai was waiting where he’d hidden his things, holding the bag in his hand. “You’re not the type to gloat, so hand it over or I’ll shoot you,” he said plainly, holding out his own hand to him.

The samurai stared at him for a moment, probably expecting a fight or something, but eventually dropped the bag in his hand. “Thank you,” Rabbit told him, fishing his more comfortable shoes out and pulling them on.

It wasn’t long after that that Gallow pulled up in the car. “We should get out of here, Jackrabbit. Won’t be long ‘till the cops show up,” he called out, earning a sigh from Rabbit.

He looked the samurai in the eye once he had the car door open, gaze colder than ever. “I hope all of you burn for this,” he told him, staring for another moment before giving that awkward white boy smile and sitting down in the passenger’s seat.

The drive back to his apartment was long and silent. He wanted to make a new plan as soon as possible, but he was lucky that he ended up on his bed before he was out like a light. Planning could wait for tomorrow.

“Look at it, it’s all matted up!” Normally, Scrap adored Michael’s beard. It was one of his favourite features that adorned his hulking boyfriend. However, ever since disappearing after his attempt to kill Laurie, Michael had let it grow out of control.

It had been months since they last saw each other, accidentally splitting up when Michael took off and left him behind. Only now that Halloween was approaching had they found each other again.

Scrap sighed as he attempted to run his fingers through the tangled mess, careful not to tug too hard and hurt his lover. “Michael….” he muttered, the disappointment clear in his voice.

The lack of self care didn’t surprise him. Even at Smiths Grove, Michael would only shower when Scrap forced him to. That didn’t make him any less upset about it though.

“Come on.” He took Michael’s hands and led him through the house to the bathroom, sitting him down on the toilet once inside. “You’re lucky I started HRT. If I didn’t start growing facial hair, I wouldn’t have a razer.”

He dug through the cabinet under the sink until he found it, letting out a soft sound of triumph when it was in his hands.

Michael was, of course, silent as he watched Scrap put everything together. He’d never been bothered by the beard, but he should have expected his worrywart of a boyfriend to not like it.

He had to admit that it was cute, watching Scrap worry about him. He’d missed that. He didn’t even mean to leave him behind when he ran, and now the regret was crashing down on him in the form of a tightening in his chest.

So when Scrap moved back over to him, he grabbed his arm, rolled up his sleeve, and tapped his inner forearm twice.

“You wanna say something?” he asked, returning the taps on the back of Michael’s hand, who was now nodding slowly. “Alright, go ahead.”

Michael began to trace the words on Scrap’s forearm, letter by letter, which Scrap vocalised once they were words.

“‘I’m…. sorry’? Are you apologizing?” Scrap asked, once again getting a slow nod from his boyfriend as his hand dropped. “It’s alright baby. I know why you had to leave, and I’m sure you haven’t shaved because you don’t want to nick yourself.”

Well. Scrap knew him better than he realized, apparently.

“Alright, I’m gonna put on the shave cream now,” Scrap told him, knowing that Michael needed to know exactly what was happening to be comfortable. He sprayed some of the shave cream in his hand and started putting it in Michael’s beard, starting at the top.

It was a quiet process as he lathered the cream into the beard, but it wasn’t long before he was softly humming. Once he was sure it was all covered, he rinsed off his hands and grabbed the razer.

He started at the top of the beard, holding his free hand on Michael’s jaw to keep him still.

They both stayed focused on the task at hand through the whole thing, Michael sitting as still as possible and Scrap keeping his hand from shaking.

About halfway through, they took a small break so Scrap could check the newly bare skin for any nicks or reactions, also taking the time to clean it up. “Look at that. A glimpse of my beautiful man,” he purred, pressing a kiss to the clean side of Michael’s face before he got back to work.

By the time Scrap was done, a few hours had passed, enough that both of them were ready to get something and go to bed. “I’ll make dinner, don’t worry about it,” Scrap said as he cleaned the other side of Michael’s face, finding a single nick and putting some neosporin on it.

Michael quickly shook his hand in reply, standing up so he towered over his boyfriend. He raised a big hand to point at himself, jabbing his own chest with his index finger.

“... Do you even know how to cook, Michael?”

No. But he nodded nonetheless. He’d learned how to read recipes at the very least, and he could probably figure something out.

“Fine. Shower first,” Scrap replied, turning around so he could leave, only to find himself pulled back into a large chest. He chuckled softly, having forgotten that Michael wouldn’t bathe unless he was there with him.

“Sorry, forgot,” he muttered, turning around once again to face Michael and pulling him into a kiss. “Let me turn the water on- you go ahead and strip,” he told him, being released a few seconds later.

Michael was satisfied with that, pulling off his coveralls as Scrap leaned into the shower and turned the water on.

“Do you think your wax people could withstand a dusting? I don’t like the cobwebs,” Jesse asked as he looked up from his carving, catching Vincent’s attention from where he sat across from him.

Vincent stared for a moment, probably thinking it over. “Be careful,” he finally signed, before returning to his own work.

Good enough for him. “Thanks,” Jesse told him as he gathered up his stuff and headed for the tunnel that would lead to the hatch connected to his antique shop. Luckily, none of the figures were kept in there.

When the town started to fill up with these wax creations, Jesse had made it very clear that he wouldn’t allow any of them in his shop. Above it was the apartment that he lived in, and he wasn’t having any fucking wax figures watching him sleep.

The feather duster he used on the antiques was easy to find, and he was setting off soon enough.

Most of the residential houses didn’t have figures in them, only one or two, so he went for them first. It felt a little weird to be dusting a wax coated corpse, but he was sure these dead people didn’t want the cobwebs on them any more than he did.

He started with the old lady that opened the curtain on her window, turning off the mechanism that made her move while he dusted her, just to keep her still. He was extra careful with her glasses, after discovering that they weren’t very tightly secured.

The cinema was his next target, followed by the church. The only one he didn’t have to touch was Trudy’s body in the casket. Honestly, the churchgoers in general weren’t all too dusty. Some of them were fresh, others were simply cleaned regularly because of the church’s use in how Bo lured people in.

Any shop he could actually get into were the last places he worked on. It was tempting to break into a few when he glanced inside and saw the cobwebs, but he quite frankly didn’t want a run-in with Bo.

Unfortunately, that run-in would happen anyway.

“What the hell are you doin’?” Bo asked when he caught him in one of the shops, mid-dusting a person’s face.

Jesse tensed up immediately at the sound of his voice, gripping the duster so hard that his knuckles turned white. “I’m dusting them off. I can’t stand the cobwebs,” he replied, letting out a sigh before turning to face him.

Bo scoffed at the answer, rolling his eyes at him. Apparently, the idea that Jesse cared about something seemed stupid to him. “They’re corpses. Gatherin’ cobwebs is kinda their thing.”

It was hard for Jesse to not snap at him, tightening his jaw in order to avoid it. He really hated arguing, especially with Bo. It always got so heated, so… angry. He became a completely different person during these arguments and he fucking hated that side of himself.

“Well, I don’t think they should have to be dirty,” he finally said, turning away again as he continued his work. “They were alive once. They still deserve the respect we give to the living.”

It seemed an argument wasn’t going to be avoided, because within seconds he felt a large hand on his arm (vaguely, he was aware of himself relaxing at the warmth) before he was yanked away from the statue.

“Don’t you fuckin’ forget that these things are dead,” Bo hissed, gripping his arm even tighter. “You start goin’ soft, and I’ll make sure you join ‘em.”

Wow. What an asshole.

Jesse yanked his arm away, just barely forcing himself to not shove Bo away. “Can you fuck off? I’m trying to clean up this shithole of a town, and you’re just gonna stand here and be a dick? What’s your fucking problem, Sinclair?”

“My problem is you treatin’ these fuckin’ things like people! They’re dead Monroe, they ain’t comin’ back! You can’t suddenly take back the shit you did to ‘em, you can’t pretend you didn’t help!”

“I wasn’t pretending that!” Jesse could feel the rage bubbling up the longer they stayed near each other. He knew he needed to get out of there before he did something stupid, but when he tried to push past Bo, he simply shoved him back.

“Why do you have to be such a bastard all the time!?” Jesse yelled, running his hands through his hair. “You can’t just be fucking normal!? All I wanted was to clean up! That was it! I don’t see what’s so fucking wrong with that!!”

Bo opened his mouth, but Jesse couldn’t be there anymore. “Get out of my fucking way!” he snapped, bringing his foot down on Bo’s knee to distract him long enough to literally bolt out of the shop, taking his headstart as a chance to find somewhere to hide.

Normally, Bo would give up when he ran, but sometimes he liked to chase. Jesse wasn’t sure if he thought it was a game, or- even worse- it aroused him, and he really didn’t want to find out.

He heard him call out to him from where he was hidden, but didn’t move, hardly even breathing at this point.

Bo Sinclair didn’t scare him. Jesse was aware that he could kill him, but he knew he could put up one hell of a fight. And he’d never hurt him- not unless he wanted to lose his control over Vincent and Lester.

Even still, he didn’t want to test his luck. He only emerged from his hiding spot when he was sure Bo was gone, cautiously returning to the shop to retrieve his feather duster.

Decidedly, he’d wait for tomorrow to finish up.

---

Jesse jumped at the feeling of a light tap on his shoulder, pulling his earbuds out when he looked up and saw it was Vincent. “What’s up?”

Vincent just gently grabbed him by the sleeve and led him over to his most recent work, stopping in front of it. He liked getting Jesse’s opinion before he dressed them, especially because he’d seen them before they were wax.

“Oh wow, I think this is one of your best yet,” Jesse commented, taking a step forward to get a closer look. “The skin looks so real, even with the wax it looks just like it.”

He almost went to touch it, but quickly remembered to keep his hands to himself, not wanting to ruin it with the oil on his fingers. “It’s beautiful Vincent, really,” he said, backing up so he was standing next to the artist again.

When he glanced over at him, he saw a slight crinkle of his eye from the eye hole. The idea that a compliment would make Vincent smile that big made Jesse grin, giving him a supportive pat on the shoulder before heading over to his desk.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get the chance to get back to work because Bo came jogging down the stairs, interrupting him with a harsh “hey!”.

“We got a new group. You take the guy- he seems like he’d be real easy for you to distract,” he told him, not giving Jesse the chance to argue before he was heading back up the stairs.

Jesse sighed, gathering his tools and wood into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later, Vince. Might wanna make sure you’ve got the wax ready.” Vincent just gave him a nod, and he followed Bo’s path up the stairs.

“Are you sure this guy is gay?” Jesse asked, extremely uncomfortable sitting in Bo’s truck but also aware that if he came out of the ground their cover would immediately be blown.

“How the fuck would I know if a man’s gay?” Bo replied harshly, but at least kept his eyes on the road. “I don’t look out for that kinda shit. He just looked gullible.”

Great. Jesse was supposed to pretend to be interested in a stranger to kill him, and Bo didn’t even know if he was into men. “Well, that sure helps,” he muttered, resting his head against the window.

He heard Bo scoff, but luckily he didn’t say anything else. An argument where both of them could walk away was fine, but arguing in the car could end up with something very bad happening.

Jesse was the first to get out when the truck was parked, just barrel stopping himself from slamming the door before making his way into the gas station where the new group was waiting.

Bo followed close behind, having paused to grab something from his truck before entering the station.

He really didn’t like having the whole group’s focus on him until Bo came in, but he did note that one of the men seemed awkward, and flushed.

Huh. Looks like Bo was right for once.

“This is Jesse,” Bo introduced him, flashing that grin of his and placing a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “Heard one of ya was interested in checkin’ out the ol’ antique shop and, well, he runs it.”

Jesse put on a smile of his own, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I don’t get many folk interested in checking it out, that’s why I wasn’t there. But if any of you wanted to take a look around, we can walk down there. I’ll warn you, there are some pieces I’m not willing to part with, but I’m sure we can look something out.”

Slipping into the persona he put on for things like this was easy, practically second nature. Hell, he could even tolerate the hand on his shoulder when he was focused like this.

“I’d love to check it out,” the man that had been eyeing him spoke up, cutting off one of his friends that was seemingly about to shut him down. “If- if that’s okay,” he quickly added, embarrassed by his outburst.

Jesse shot him a grin that made his face flush, now silently thanking Bo for assuming he was gay, because maybe he’d actually get something for once. It’s certainly not easy being one of FOUR inhabitants in a town where the only other men there are either like brothers to you or absolutely despise you. He deserves to fuck a stranger before killing him.

“Great,” he responded, shrugging Bo’s hand off his shoulder finally and moving over to the man. “We can head over there now, if you’d like.” Then he leaned forward, lowering his voice for only the stranger to hear. “You can bring your friends, but I’d much rather get you alone.”

Somehow, the man’s flush deepened, making Jesse smile as he leaned back. “I’ll see you guys later,” he told his friends, not letting them argue with him as he let Jesse lead him out of the gas station.

“So, what’s your name?” Jesse asked during the walk, not allowing the persona to slip for even a moment. He couldn’t have him running off, after all.

“Jackson,” the stranger replied, smiling at Jesse’s interest in him. “We match- you know, J names.” Ah, he was far too excited about that, but he just smiled at him. “How long have you been here?”

“My whole life,” Jesse answered, pulling Jackson over to the shop and pausing in front of the door to unlock it. “Ambrose born and raised. My parents were from Georgia though, only lived here long enough for me to turn 18 before they bolted.” That actually wasn’t a lie.

“Sorry about that,” Jackson said, now following him inside the shop. He went quiet as he looked around, seemingly surprised that the shop was bigger inside than it looked outside.

Jesse just hummed at the condolences, leaving it be. He didn’t want his dead parents to spoil the mood. “Now, I have to ask, are you actually interested in the antiques? I rarely meet anyone that wants to see them.”

He heard a nervous chuckle and looked over at Jackson. “Well, yeah, but that’s not the only reason I wanted to check it out. Mr. Sinclair-” oh WOW, he wondered how Bo handled THAT- “said that you were the one who ran it and- well- I… I dunno, I came on this road trip because I wanted to meet someone and now I’m hoping that it’ll be you.”

Ah. So he wanted a genuine relationship and not a quick fuck. “Well…” Jesse started, moving so he stood right in front of Jackson, carefully bringing his hands up to toy with the buttons on the flannel he wore, “I’ve never considered leaving Ambrose, but I might be able to make an exception for you.”

That seemed to be the final breaking point, because Jackson took his face in his hands and pulled him into a kiss, one Jesse eagerly returned.

It was quick, desperate, and heated, and neither of them heard the trapdoor in the backroom open, or the heavy footsteps that came up to them.

In fact, they only knew someone was with them when Jackson was yanked back. He didn’t get the chance to scream before his throat was slit, spraying blood on Jesse, who gasped mainly in offence.

“Bo! What the hell! I fucking had that!” he snapped, glaring up at the man, who just tossed Jackson’s body to the side.

“You were gonna fuck him,” was all Bo said- the malice in his tone admittedly shocked Jesse, and it almost sounded like he was jealous. That made no fucking sense, considering Bo hated him.

“Yeah, Bo, I was going to fuck him because last time I checked, there are no other men in this nowhere town that will!” he yelled in reply, letting out a frustrated huff as he pushed past Bo to get to the stairs that led to his apartment.

He didn’t get two feet before he was being yanked back into a solid chest, feeling Bo’s warm breath against his neck. “Don’t pull that shit again,” he growled, which only made Jesse angrier.

He yanked himself out of the bigger man’s grasp, forcing himself not to attack him. “You don’t get to tell me what to do you ass, I’m not your fucking boyfriend- I’m not even your friend. Keep your problems to yourself,” he spat, before heading for the stairs again.

This time, he wasn’t stopped, but he didn’t hear Bo leave until after he slammed the door shut.