|| Lupin The Third || Oneshots

You're Also Sick (L/J/G)

(Another sick fic as requested)

The thief stumbles out of his room, still half asleep to start his day. Lupin yawns as he trudges down the hall. He slips into the bathroom to sleepily piss, brush his teeth, and wash his face to start the day.

Lupin yawns again as he gets out of the bathroom and enters the kitchen dining area where Jigen—surprisingly—was doing the dishes with his sleeves pulled up to his elbows. With a loopy smirk, Lupin prances on over and surprises Jigen from a close hug behind, nuzzling his peach fuzz chin between his partners lower neck, collar bone, and shoulder.

"G' morning Jigeeeen~"
Lupin draws out lazily. It makes Jigen scoff a small smile as he scrubs the plates.

"Morning to you too, moron."
He greets back sarcastically. Lupin opens his tired eyes to the dishes covered with comically large batches of white bubbles.

"Since when did you do dishes?" Lupin asks.

"Well, usually Goemon would do them at the crack of dawn. But he's still asleep so.. decided to do it myself." Jigen answers back as he props the clean plates and cups onto the dish rack.

Lupin blinks himself more awake, looking up at the ceiling in wonder. He mindlessly feels up Jigens sides in thought, his hands tucking unseeing Jigens jacket to move up and down the ribcage, which makes Jigen blush; somewhat uncomfortable for how nice it was feeling.

"He's still asleep?" The thief ponders.

"I think he might've caught what you had a week ago." Jigen responds as he turns off the facet and then grabs a small towel to clean his hands.

"Goemon? Sick?"
The thief continues to ponder himself.

Jigen then makes a sudden turn with his face to squish against Lupins. Lupin grits his teeth in surprise and pain as their side burns rub off on each other.

"Probably. Now stop fondling with my belt and let go of me."Jigen demands.

Lupin giggles, letting go of the unbuckled belt and furthermore, unwrapping his arms from the gunman. The gunman only grunts in annoyance which only makes Lupin feel more satisfied.

You're fun to mess with, Lupin wanted to say, but best kept it in his head for his own safety.

Now, what about Goemon?

"Hmm.."
Lupin stuffs his hands in his pockets and walked out of the kitchen as Jigen dusts off his clothes. Jigen, also just as obviously curious, composes himself and then follows not too far behind Lupin.

Lupin pauses at the semi-open bedroom door, listening carefully for any sounds: assuming Goemon might have simply left to go on another training-related journey. Yet he could hear the tight breathing of Goemons chest, sounding strained and sick, as if gunk has made the tubes supposed to carry fresh air nearly clogged. Lupin can also hear murmuring that he couldn't quite catch.

Lupin gently presses his hand over the door and quietly opens up. He and his gunman glimpse inside to see the samurai buried under a blanket on a twin sized bed that sits in front of a window sill. His prized Zantetskun leans against the window frame and mattress.

"Why must I be so weak?"
Goemon mutters sickly to himself.
"Have the amount of training, the finding of peace and tranquillity, not be efficient enough?"

This has nothing to do with training, just bad luck, Lupin and Jigen thought in unison, never truly understanding the thought process of a samurai.

"I know what must be done.."
Goemon hacks a cough with a shake of his head, then slowly rises into a kneeling position; the puffy white blanket slips away to show his bare back shining with sweat. Goemon takes his sword and slowly begins drawing it out.