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All Jigen could do was stare at the fake. It was incredible how much this imposter looked like his Lupin, sans a few differences. His Lupin didn't have that wild look in his eye, as if he was just barely holding himself back from unleashing complete chaos. Nor did he have that giant burn marring his face. Everything else was far too close for his liking though. It was only those obvious differences that kept his gun trained on the other. That and his orders from Lupin. The real one.
“Keep him busy for me, partner. We need to stop him from hurting anybody else.”
The fake scoffed, dragging the gunman out of his head and back to the present.
"C'mon Jigen. You really think you need that? It's me."
"Shut up."
God, he even sounded like his Lupin too. Not perfectly, of course. The cadence was off. A lingering madness that the original lacked–or maybe he just hid it much better.
"So stubborn,” the fake clucked his tongue as he looked the gunman up and down, “I was hoping we could talk."
He narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen."
"Why not?" the fake smirked, "because he told you not to? You always do what he tells you to do?"
Jigen gritted his teeth. This…thing–imposter? Clone? Whatever he was–wanted to play games, toy with his mind and get him distracted enough to escape. He wouldn't give him the chance.
"I won't tell you again. I will shoot you."
A look crossed the fake's face, one that Jigen recognized whenever his Lupin was scheming something.
"Will you?" he stepped closer, "Can you?"
Of course he could. He's been pulling the trigger since he was a kid, hitting his targets for almost just as long. But as Lupin–no, the fake Lupin, not his–slowly approached, he became less sure of himself. His hands were frozen in place, even as the fake pressed his forehead against the barrel.
"I-I'm not kidding," he ground out, trying to mask the wavering doubt that was creeping into his voice.
"Alright. Do it then. Shoot me, Jigen-chan."
Tremors ran through his fingertips. He tried to focus on the unsightly burn, the crazed eyes. But they looked softer now as Lupin–fake Lupin–stared him down. His breathing became heavy as he tried to force his fingers to squeeze.
"You can't, can you? It's okay. Put down the gun, Jigen. It's alright now."
Dammit all, he should not be listening to this! He had a job to do. If he failed, his partner would be in danger. More innocent people would die. He had killed people for a living before meeting the master thief, why was it so hard now?
"Lupin wants me to--"
"Where is Lupin anyway?” the fake interrupted easily, “Why isn't he here, hm? Leaving you to do his dirty work. That's just rotten. You don't deserve that."
Jigen dug the barrel in harder.
"Fuck off with that! He didn't leave me to do anything!" he swallowed the lump forming in his throat and averted his gaze, “He didn't need to. I'd do anything for him.”
"I know you would. You're so loyal. He's lucky to have you, y'know. Does he ever tell you that?"
They were standing so close now. Jigen could feel the imposter's breath warm on his face as he continued to lean into the gun.
“H-he doesn't need to,” he stated again, less sure than he had been, “We’re partners. We rely on each other. That's all the thanks I need.”
He was so focused on his argument, of pushing away any negative feelings he may have had about his Lupin's apparent lack of care, that he didn't see the fingers coming toward his face. He gasped when he felt them trail down his cheek, tangle in his beard.
"Is that right? You never want him to...show you how grateful he is?"
The imposter's hands were warm and soft, slightly callused. Clever in how he stroked his face, applying just enough pressure to make electric heat crackle down his spine. He couldn't suppress the shudder that ran through him anymore than he could resist leaning into the touch. If he closed his eyes, he could almost fool himself into believing these caresses belonged to his Lupin.
"So underappreciated. He calls you his treasure, but does he ever bother to make you feel like it?"
Jigen furrowed his brow. That wasn't…how did…
"How do you know about that?"
Lupin smiled.
"I have his memories. I know everything he knows. And isn't that all we are at the end of the day? Just a bunch of memories dictating who we are?"
Jigen swallowed thickly. "What...what are you saying?"
"What I'm saying," he gently maneuvered his arms around Jigen's neck, trapping his arm in an awkward angle as the gunman continued to press the gun against his head, "is there really that much of a difference between your Lupin and me?"
Jigen's breath hitched as those words made his head swim. Of…of course they were different. Lupin, his Lupin, was nothing like the man that was holding him.
"All you want to do is destroy,” he finally settled on, “You're nothing like him."
Lupin pursed his lips in thought.
"You're sure about that? I didn't know he shared his every thought with you."
Well...no. He couldn't deny that Lupin held him at arm's length at the best of times.
“I guess there are some differences between us,” the imposter chuckled ruefully, “Unlike him, I'm willing to be honest with you. And myself. I don't see the need to hide who I am from you.”
That…Jigen loathed to admit it, but that was what he had always wanted from the thief. He hated the invisible wall that existed between them at all times. Lupin had always seemed to exist on a higher plane than the gunman. It was all he could do to keep up, stay worthy of his gaze. Loving someone like that was difficult, more of an act of worship than a functioning relationship. Not that his partner gave him any indication he felt the same.
"We all have impulses, choices. Fleeting thoughts that we act upon or ignore." He leaned in closer, his clever hands tangled in Jigen's hair, hopelessly woven together. The thought of that made the gunman weak at the knees.
"For instance, I'm sure we've both had the thought to kiss you. Show you just how much of a treasure you are to us."
Jigen looked him in the eye then. Shocked, horrified, not daring to hope that there was any truth to that statement. He wanted to call him a liar, wanted to push him away and put a bullet between his eyes for having the audacity to say such a thing out loud. All he could do was stare.
His nose brushed against Jigen's. The gunman stopped breathing as time slowed to a crawl.
"I wonder which of us will act upon it."
“H-he would never,” he choked out.
Lupin raised an eyebrow at him, smiling lazily as if he did not just deliver the most earth-shattering information.
“He might. If he cared enough about you to be honest with himself,” his ran a thumb across Jigen's temple soothingly, “I can give you that. You don't have to keep everything you're feeling inside anymore. Let me be that for you, partner.”
He couldn't have stopped the kiss if he tried. He had dreamt of what those lips would feel like against his own. Not even his own reservations about the act seemed to matter. Not when it was him. Even his lips tasted sweeter than anyone else he had kissed.
"L-Lupin," he whispered like a prayer. He dropped the gun. Everything was foggy. Was this okay? Could he really have this? A real relationship with the man he loved. No theatrics, no performances. Just honest intimacy. If someone had told him that he had died and gone to heaven right then and there, he would have believed them.
It wasn't until he noticed that the sweet taste on his lips was lingering for far longer than it should have that he realized he made a mistake. His vision swam and all his strength left him as he pitched forward into Lupin's arms. Fuck, had he been drugged? Ironically, that was something his partner would do if he saw fit. Maybe this fake was less fake than they thought.
"That's right, my treasure," the thief purred, all dangerous smiles, "It's me, your Lupin. I'm here now.”