c17h19no3 | [ private movie screenings. ]

Entry tags:

jigen,
lupin

[ private movie screenings. ]

[ When working with Arsène Lupin the Third, the one thing to always remember is that the man is, in a word, unpredictable. It's a running constant, the one common thread that weaves all of his actions together to form their ever-expanding, staggeringly elaborate tapestry of adventures. Unshakable, unbreakable, unstoppable: that's Lupin, and Jigen honestly has no idea what he'd been expecting when his partner'd walked up to him that morning, swaying lightly on the balls of his feet to an invisible tune, hands in his pockets like he'd just pilfered something of Jigen's that Jigen would be exceedingly angry about later.

In reality, though, what'd come out of Lupin's mouth was a simple, disarming:

"Wanna go see a movie?"

Delivered with all the coyness of a boy asking someone out on a first date, complete with exaggerated fidgeting and an "aw-shucks" pout that'd distinctly rubbed Jigen the wrong way.

"No", he'd replied with finality, and he'd thought that that would be that...

...but here he is now, bag of freshly-made caramel corn tucked under one arm, peering into a cozy home theater that would comfortably seat a crowd of thirty.

He feels like he's been conned into this.

He probably has.

But being the painstakingly conscientious man that he is, disgustingly true to his word once he's given it, Jigen settles into one of the surprisingly plush chairs in the middle of the room and throws his feet up, resting the heel of his new shoes onto the back of the seat in front of him. If he's doing this, he's in it for the long haul. ]

What did you say we were watching, Lupin?

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[ En garde... Jigen has no idea how Lupin can even think of getting it up in this situation, but then again, Jigen is the kind of guy that expects "dames" to walk into offices in fur coats and to smell like trouble. Maybe he's not the best judge of atmosphere.

The bag of popcorn is bumped from his knee in an attempt to dislodge Lupin's hand from it, which ends in popcorn getting spilled all over the place, on his pants, on the seat, on the floor. Cleanup on aisle... whatever. ]

Idiot, I like brunettes. [ He says, as if this is a perfect deterrent. Sorry Cameron, no offense...you're still a grade-A cutie. The scales in this tug-of-war aren't tipping in his favor, though, so Jigen moves in instead of pulling back, trying to get the fly with honey and not vinegar. ] Just let me watch the goddamn thing, isn't that what you wanted.

[ Appealing to Lupin's love for victory?? This is such a shoddy plan, but Jigen's not exactly the plans guy. ]

[A gust of wind could blow twelve miles over China and Lupin would pop a boner, that's just how this goes.

Lupin has enough time to let his own empty bag drop to the sticky depths of the floor, more arm room so he can skim up Jigen's opposite knee with a free hand-- just to funnel a few scoops of popcorn off, of course. His partner's cooperation makes his pulse spike, a pleased heat flushes over his face as he leans in, too, so close he could brush his chin against the very end of his beard.]

Lucky you, you've got a raven haired beauty, ready and willing. Take me, Jigen-sama~ [bats his eyelashes] What I wanted? Jigen, I wanted you. [matter of fact, despite the twinkle in his eyes]

Edited 2015-02-06 05:05 (UTC)

[ Well. That plan was a spectacular failure: not only is Lupin's face right there, he has to contend with the directness of those words, shot straight at him in a clear trajectory. Clearly, Jigen's not the only one with expert aim here.

A hand comes up to deflect, trusty boralino serving as a defense between his windows to his soul and Lupin's. They're close enough that the back of his hand brushes Lupin's jaw during the motion, which is also another unintended effect. ]

What's a guy gotta do to watch his damn movie in peace?

[ He says, but he's just embarrassed, stupid tryhard. Lupin and his damn lines... Jigen gives him shit constantly about how bad they are, and yet, here he is. He's a sucker. ]

[He makes an equally pleased little sound in the back of his throat as worn knuckles brush his jawline, and even though Jigen's trying to effectively use Withdraw! into his hat, he can tell it's working.

He runs his palms up and down Jigen's knees, up and down and up and up, squeezes his thighs. When he speaks his voice has taken on that husky purr]

I think it's far too late for that, don't you? We could always rent it if you're that worried about Lucy Liu.

[ Clever hands, clever fingers. Jigen's not a particularly difficult safe to crack, and there's not exactly space enough to move away unless he actually gets up to excuse himself.

He has no idea why he's not getting up to excuse himself.

Instead, he grumbles lightly under his breath ("stupid jackass, you probably have three copies of the damn DVD under your pillow") and reaches up to remove his hat and hook it on the chair behind him, freeing his hair and face and teeth, the very latter exposed to bite with annoyed affection at Lupin's jaw. Bad dog, no teething. ]

How long is this damn thing, anyway.

[ He still wants to know what happens to Drew! ]

[Don't tell anyone, but this is one of Lupin's favorite types of safes to crack; hard at first, there's a stone wall and fucking chainmail and there's a timer set to explode in fiery retribution if he should twist too much to the left]

Long enough to have you-- [he breathes, chin tipped forward, further into Jigen's mouth, the beard whispering against his skin. He smooths those lightning quick hands up until he's got Jigen's zipper undone, he traces the pads of two fingers over the hot little (well, never little) beginning of interest in Jigen's underwear. Star print today? Those are definitely Lupin's. The thought makes his smile all the more toothy.]

But I'm a gentleman, we all know that. So I won't be cruel...

[the opposite hand unfastens one, two, three buttons starting from the bottom of Jigen's dress shirt, delves beneath the fabric to slide his palm over shifting muscles and scars he knows so well]

This DJ is open to requests to make you sing.

[ How does he move this fast, is what Jigen thinks as his shirt and pants loosen for a little more ventilation. He'd like to think that he isn't so easy, that there's no way he could be getting even a little bit hard as he plays right into Lupin's hand (literally), but there it is; it's distressing how this sort of thing works out.

Teeth graze up and towards an ear, inelegant and unrefined when they find an earlobe and nibble at it. Lupin's always been as eloquent with his touch as he is with his words, but Jigen can only operate on one setting, straightforward, and there's no tricks or plays to his movements— one hand unbuckling his partner's belt with little decorum, the other braced against his chair as he hisses a thin exhale. ]

Quick and dirty. [ It's almost a taunt, dry but amused. Knuckles drag along the outline of Lupin's zipper when the belt gives way, rapping gently at the slight mound as if to ask if he's "knocking on wood". Jigen's so funny. ] To hell with being a gentleman, I ain't no lady.

[A breathless little uuhh rushes from Lupin's mouth, hips roll into the motion of the knock, the barest hint of pressure behind it. Goosebumps pop out along his skin and the very breath, the very hint of teeth scoring his earlobe has his head lolling to one side-- Jigen's words cause his mouth to form a smile of promise, as promising as Jigen's exhale that ruffles his hair, makes him shiver, as promising as the hand Lupin traces up and up and up, nails the barest hint of nail because he knows Jigen doesn't hate it, not at all, as promising as--]

Quick and dirty, just like how you take your coffee? You like your thieves how you like your coffee? [Chuckling low and dark, he circles his fingers around Jigen's dick through the fabric and gives him an appreciative squeeze]

No, this isn't fit for the delicate eyes of an innocent lady. This is as good as Fight Club, and you know what they say...you're already breaking all the rules.

[Fuck Club? Fuck Dumbass Thieves Club?]

[ The background noise is distracting— is that a hint of a plot going on?— but it's not as distracting as the sudden coil of heat that curls from his gut, prompting a thin slide of suit pants that crinkle the faux-velvet of the theater seats. Jigen is suddenly very aware of where all his blood is going (to his dick and his face, if we're going to be crass), very aware that Lupin is going to be able to tell, with his cheek against Jigen's cheek, hand against Jigen's vitals (very vitals).

A trigger finger drags itself along the waistband of Lupin's pants, the lips pressed against Lupin's ear ghosting into a smile at the lack of chiseled abs (as much as Lupin would have everyone believe otherwise). ]

I don't like you at all, idiot.

[ There's a stronger word he'd use, which is the root of this paper-thin verbal defense. His breath hitches, smooth tenor dragged along sandpaper to make the ends of his vowels rustle. It's uncomfortable, sitting like this, so he shifts and rests hi back against the armrest of the adjacent chair, ignoring how the plastic digs into the small of his back to draw one knee up and onto cushioning. ]

And you're the one that broke the damn rules first, don't try to pin this on me.

[Oh he can absolutely tell. The heat brands him, to the very bones in his face, to the sparks going off to his brain and the sparks going off in his cock--he's suddenly blazing hot from the inside out, and it spreads through every vein and node. He mirrors the smile against his ear, encourages the trigger finger's exploration with another roll of his hips.

Lupin goes ahead and shifts until their thighs touch, traverses the sharp hitch in breath, wants to watch it unfold in rather unseen eyes but oh, he wouldn't give up that rumble at his ear until Jigen chooses to. He's a gentleman, see? Proven in the clever fingers that reach right through the slit in Jigen's boxers in order to wrap around the tip of his cock, thumb the barest hint of pressure]

Yeah? Well I guess it's too bad I like you just as much as you say you don't. I'll have to steal that too, I suppose.

[he hums low, considers on a low octave]

They're more like guidelines, anyway. Meant to be broken. You didn't make it very easy, you know.

[Actually, he had. He knew the moment he'd awoken that morning, the second Jigen's knee had brushed his at the table.]

[ Jigen likes to keep a close limiter on things, prefers to keep himself reeled back for when he needs to dial things in, to be the suppressor. Or, at the least, that's what he thinks— never chase, always quietly follow— when the fact of the matter, the reality of things, is that Lupin makes that all seem like bullshit, car-crash lips dotting disasters on Jigen's skin, making his heart race under flooding adrenaline.

(He knows he sticks around for the thrill, because his blood runs boiling when Lupin gets that glint in his eye.)

He's not impatient, but he is enjoying himself. He groans with lupine ferocity when a thumb drags over his too-hard dick, rewarding his partner's effort with a low shit that he bites into Lupin's jaw. ]

You think you can get everything that easy?

[ That's almost a laugh, that little lilt that lifts up the corner of that question. Never a fan of being outdone or outmatched, Jigen buries his hand under the fabric of Lupin's boxers (probably actually his, judging by the modest tartan pattern) and curls his fingers blindly around the base of Lupin's hardon. It's not a competition, he knows, but pesky pride has him start stroking first, easing his hand against Lupin's heat. ]

[Lupin's hips jerk to a start under the attention of Jigen's rough fingers and the Jigen that falls from dry lips is more of a keening request than anything. He can't even protest how it's no fun if its easy, if theres no challenge its not worth it, too caught up in the surge of excitement and want that pulses through him.

He's the impatient one, now-- now that Jigen's got him fired up even more, like a volcanic heat spreading across every single cell, like they could burn the fucking seats from a single touch. He rubs his thumb over the head of Jigen's cock, right along the slit, before he twists those long fingers and strokes, not one to be outdone]

Never, it's no fun that way-- and you're hard-- [trails off with a punched out laugh, like he's goddamn funny] A Lupin always gets what he wants in the end...you and I both know that.

[ It's satisfying and infuriating at once, that whine for more and that retaliation; the one hand gripping chair cushions scrabble for purchase, digging nails in to make sure that he's here, he's grounded, that he won't fall over and ruin this because fuck if he's going to kill this buzz now. He's only vaguely aware of what's going on somewhere distant on the screen (it feels like miles away at this point), and pulls his face up to face Lupin, bottom lip caught between teeth but unfurling so he can press them at the corner of Lupin's. ]

Dirty sonofabitch. [ He manages, throat bobbing in time with the beat of the hand wrenching the noises out of him, his own hand alternating between keeping the same rhythm and breaking it with improvisation: a thumb tracing the outline of the head, calloused trigger fingers occasionally stopping the pumping to squeeze. ] You never play fair, that's what this is.

[ Argumentative to hide his pleasure at being any part of Lupin's prerogative, really. Jigen insults to be affectionate, kisses Lupin between deriding him, too awkward about expressing how good this feels or how he's not unhappy that Lupin always takes it upon himself to request the unreasonable.

He's glad that his bangs have taken over his face, that his partner hopefully can't see the way his eyes have melted in all this heat. ]

[His mouth parts for Jigen's, and he turns so his face can catch the other's lips more easily, sloppily and wet, my, what swollen lips you'll have, little red riding thief. The better to eat you with, my dear!! A hand flitters up to cup the back of Jigen's head, fingers entwining in his hair as he pulls him closer against his mouth, as if he really would eat him up. Between kisses he comes up for air, breathing--]

The filthiest. A totally naughty boy. Will you take on the task of cleaning me up, bad boy? Well? Will you?

[With a sigh into Jigen's mouth, he ruts himself into the other's hand, utterly unabashed, picking up the speed of his own ever moving hand, fingers clasping around him, palm dragging from tip to base and back again. Sweat has broken out along his hairline.]

I think we're better fit for rolling in the mud, don't you.

[now that would be something Jigen would never agree to...oh well. Dreams live and dreams die in an instant.]

[ The wolfman was his Halloween party costume, thank you very much. Not-so-little, Not-so-red (well) Riding Hood busies himself with building speed, bumping his knees with Lupin's in the inches between their seats and grinding forward to make both of their hands touch. His palms are slick with precum, friction lessened but motion smoother, and a part of him savors the warmth that seeps from Lupin into his own skin; there'd be a gun analogy here, but he feels like it'd kill the mood (and make it sound like he's cheating, his poor beloved Magnum).

He smiles at his own private joke, thin but with a faint flash of teeth. No one else does "fun" better than Arsene Lupin the Third. ]

You're shit outta luck if you think I could clean you up.

[ His vocabulary is a little rougher when he's desperate like this, accented English a little thicker as he claws his way closer to Lupin and tugs on the thief's wrist, pulling it up and off his dick so he can stroke the both of them on his own. Lupin's cologne today is surprisingly light, and Jigen can smell it between deep intakes of breath through his nose, his mouth too busy trying to hold back the brief groans he'd make otherwise. ]

[Too bad he refused Lupin's off to suck his.........blood, then. He's going to be cursed with a fursuit next time jesus fucking christ. Little Red Riding Lupin can't get enough, and when their hands bump together briefly, his coming away wet and slick, his breath hitches--- another keening sound topples from his lips when Jigen's fingers curl around his dick, hips rise off the chair, knees blindly knocking into the gunman's as he moves with fervor.]

That's how I work best, you and I both know that...shit out of luck, without a paddle...I suppose you'll just have to deal with me dirtying you up, huh? I have the feeling you won't mind~

[Jigen's so willing today, he didn't even have to use any secret passwords to open this safe today! The very knowledge of this, thick syllables on Jigen's tongue (Lupin could just swallow them up, and does, along with the very breath rattling from his lungs), the very thought makes him pulse in Jigen's hand. He deserves treats and baubles and every sound and all kinds of things Lupin can proclaim with his lips-- so he does.

He dips his head, unfastens the rest of the buttons of Jigen's shirt, manages to pop two clean off, then licks a trail from collarbone to pec, mouth parting over tan skin to give way to a sharp edge of teeth which nibble and suck the beginning of a wet, red blossom. Jigen's cologne is sharp and bitter on his tongue but the saltiness of his sweat, of being pure Jigen is enough to ignore that. He takes extra care to trace every scar he can reach with the flat of his tongue]

[ The next time will involve Freddy Fazbear's animatronics and a very scary looking chicken suit, fuck you.

He hates it when Lupin does that, hates it when he's gentle with those irregular juts and indents in his skin, because it feels like he's being taken care of and that's embarrassing— how best to deal with such emotions when they're given so freely, he doesn't know. It's a well-known fact that any annoyance he manages to verbalize can be also construed as the other side of that proverbial coin, though, and that's proven with how his free arm arm pulls around Lupin's shoulders, tucks and folds him closer to his chest. ]

Lupin.

[ A warning and an encouragement at once, a growled "shut up" and "keep talking" encased in two syllables. There are too many limbs in too many places, scrambling and fighting, greedy— the hand gripping both his and Lupin's hardons jerks a little harder, pads of fingers dragging up each shaft to find that one spot that makes hips ache, knees tremble. The armrest bracing Jigen against the seat is going to leave a mark, a two-inch by four-inch bruise that'll remind him of this for the next few days; he bucks against it roughly, craning his neck back to let his beard brush up and along Lupin's sideburns.

He wants to think he's been coerced, but fuck propriety. He wants to hear Lupin say Jigen like he means it, like this is serious and not just another way to get on his good side, the way he said he wanted to see the hat off.

Well, it's off. ]

[Please fucking think about that goddamn duck giving blowjobs with how wide its jaws unhook and go to hell you demon.

Lupin's mouth spreads into a smile, the tip of his nose bumps into his handy dandy mouth work, and he nuzzles his cheek there before returning to his God given duty-- make Jigen Daisuke squirm. Though to be fair, Jigen's making him writhe between his fingers, breaths escape in punched out little puffs ever time he ruts into his hand, he shoves forward with every stroke, teeth clenched, and makes sure to score hard into Jigen's chest--]

Jigen, Jigen, Jigen...are you getting close? Jigen, Jigen, Jigen, you feel so good...

[He slots their hips together, desperation between the edge of his teeth and another bruise on the other's skin, and he wrenches one of Jigen's thighs further apart so he can fit better, fingers tightening as he growls low and breathless]

[ Another shit, followed closely by a fuck, toes curling under the leather of his shoes when Lupin shoves closer. The motion of their hips moving in sync reminds him of being inside Lupin or Lupin being inside him, it doesn't even matter which, and his hands scramble to emulate the feeling of being buried under that weight, being buried in it. Frantic strokes, accompanied by light bites to his partner's shoulder. ]

Almost... [ is the low exhale, steel walls tempered by a heat that he never had resistance for. His voice is bordering on a whine, nns and ahs that would fog glass, made thicker by the repetition of his name. He doesn't think he's ever heard anyone say it the way Lupin does, and it sickens him how easily it makes his already-tan skin flush. ]

Keep going—

[ He hisses, the circle of his thumb and forefinger tightening, knees spread wider for more access as he pitches up and shudders with a violent groan. One more sweet "Jigen" and he's sure he'll lose it. ]

[The very thought of stealing the very breath out of Jigen like this, his fire and his cool simultaneously causes Lupin's heart to race even more, hungry smirk overtaking his mouth when the moment of stunning clarity (and a certain essense of humbleness too) passes. His cock all but jerks in the other's grasp and he shifts up and up and up and upandup, hikes Jigen's thigh up, squeezes, and shoves further against him.

Jigen's surely gonna kill him with all of this, that breathy demand, the goddamn noises he's making and the vice like grip he's got on his cock. Lupin worries his bottom lip between his teeth, trembles at the sensation of teeth to his shoulder which sends lightning straight to his cock, and he moans something in French, has to bite down so he doesn't come right there]

Me too, me too-- so close I can taste it. I can taste it on your tongue, Jigen. Come for me, Jigen, c'mon, come for me. Jigen, Jigen, Jigen--

Edited 2015-02-09 12:46 (UTC)

Lupin— shit—

[ If he'd wanted to see Lupin break down first, that goal's long been discarded in favor of chasing the high with no regard for time or placement. Features twisted into near-pain, Jigen's brows knit against the surge of uncontrollable shock that jolts him, seethes in his stomach and boils over at the last whisper of Jigen, in that order delivered with the sweetness of a confession. It's the breaking point, and with a particularly fierce grind, the head of his dick rubbing against Lupin's unabashedly, Jigen does what he's told: he comes.

Every part of him goes numb in the moment that follows, nose and mouth pressed against a disheveled collar that he bites into to muffle the sharp sound of his inhale. Blinking stars out of his eyes through shattered focus, he pieces together the remains of his control, shaken but concentrated towards the hand (now uncomfortably slick with his own come, but hell to it all) that's still moving to bring Lupin to the edge.

He feels so good that it hurts.

And in a moment of reciprocated affection, mussed hair that's damp with sweat find the crook of Lupin's neck; it's a perfect place to nest himself while he catches his breath, a good excuse to nuzzle without being obvious (which is debatable, really). He's listening to the drumming of Lupin's heart through it all, lips settled against the sensitive skin tracing up to his partner's jaw, waiting for the moment that the thief comes for him this time. ]

Your turn. [ he rasps, voice as thick as his strokes. ] Sweetheart.

[ If he was going for patronizing with that last word, trying to return the favor for all the things Lupin's been saying, it doesn't quite land— it sounds far too warm to be dry, too sincere to be sarcastic. ]

[Yeah Jigen's fucking killing him, not even slowly and softly, but scorched from the inside out and quick as lightning-- the heat that's built in his belly all this time, since the moment those deft hands circled his cock, (maybe since the instant Jigen looked at him, really looked at him in the shadows) has risen to a fevered pitched, toiling and bubbling and ready to burst.

Jigen's hot breath fanning across his neck, that nuzzle he thinks is so damn secret, makes him shiver just as much as the quick strokes of his cock, his hips rise and buck against Jigen, and his mouth parts wide as he gasps because god damn, sweetheart how dare he make it work!!]

You bast-- ahh...!

[His voice breaks off with a truly shattering high octave of a whine and he tucks his face in against the crown of Jigen's hair as his entire body quakes from his knees to his shoulders, his eyes squeeze shut and he can't take it anymore, he falls over the edge, finally--

His entire body locks up and with a punched out whimper comes Jigen's name over and over, and all he sees are blinding spots burned in his eyelids, he spills between his partners fingers and all over the seat, hips still jerking in the aftershocks. He's floating, and it's lucky he didn't straight up fall off the seat and onto his ass. He lays his sweaty, flushed cheek in Jigen's hair and inhales deeply, eyes still closed.]

[ The part of him that's still trying to keep his heart from bursting is the part of him that doesn't mind the mess, the part of him that keeps now-limp fingers curled over their diminishing heat and keeps his forehead squarely nestled on flushed skin.

The other part of him, the practical voice of reason, is starting to edge in from the corner of his conscious to deliver some humbling truths about the situation— that the two of them have ruined these chairs forever, that Cameron Diaz is still doing something too-cute on the screen a few feet in front of them, and that he hasn't a spare pair of underwear, pants, or a clean shirt.

Internal conflict aside, Jigen curls up against Lupin like a big dog, ignoring the dig of his partner's knee into his side, listening for the rise and fall of breath and voice, hearing Jigen and feeling, to an extent, vindicated. ]

Damn.

[ It's a mumble, nibbled along skin, almost lost under the sound of him clearing his throat immediately after. ]

This theater better not be a no-smoke area.

[It takes a good moment or two for his fuzzy brain to register his partners words, and when it does, a fucked out laugh, low rumble in his throat and lazy as hell, escapes his lips. He's content to bask in the warmth of the two of them, of Jigen curled up against him. He eases up on his knee a tad, loops his arms around Jigen to siphon more of his warmth because his skin is cooling rapidly and he just can't have that.

(of course, like the true gentleman he is, he wipes his wet hand on the seat beside him)

He's still got goosebumps from Jigen's breath and teeth fanned out across his skin.]

Satisfied, are you~? Heh, I knew it. [smuggity smug smug bastard that he is, he squeezes Jigen all the more closer, then releases him in order to fish a crumbled pack of cigarettes from a jacket pocket. Then it's back to curling around Jigen, pack and all]

This is a pretty old fashioned place, I don't see a smoke detector in here. I figure you'll have to time it before the ones in the lobby go off.

[ He feels that smug grin radiating off of Lupin, and responds appropriately with a halfhearted swat of (the clean) hand against Lupin's head. There's something to be said here, something about not getting cocky, but he has a feeling that using the word "cock", or any derivative, is just Not A Good Idea right now.

His limbs feel like wet cement, half-congealed and hardening in Lupin's outline; the familiar rustle of cigarettes rolling in paper packaging contributes to his sluggishness, assuring him that he won't have to move away to get that smooth drought of smoke back in his lungs. ]

I'm not sticking around for Round 2.

[ A warning and a rebuff against further self-congratulation, Lupin. Picking his head up from its perch on his partner's shoulder proves to be arduous work, but somehow, he manages. ]

Heh. Maybe we should set fire to this damn place and get rid of the evidence.

[ Not that he'd seriously advocate that, but damn, these seats are a mess. ]

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