The first text had come at 3 am. Zenigata's mind was blurred with sleep, and he barely took note of what it said, before passing out again: "Great work yesterday Pops. Maybe you'll catch me next time ;)" It wasn't until later that day as he made his walk of shame back to ICPO after yet another failure that he went to check the time and saw the text. It was undoubtedly from Lupin, and the realisation made his heart race, his hands sweat. Something deep within him kept him from sharing it with anyone else. He tried to forget about it.

The second text came after Lupin had announced he was stealing yet another piece of priceless jewellery from a pair of rich newlyweds. Zenigata had been working all day, trying to coordinate the security for the owner's mansion, and to convince everyone (mostly himself) that this time, they'd catch Lupin. The message simply read, "Hope you're not working too hard. I wanna make sure you'll be able to keep up for tomorrow night <3" Zenigata barely had time to register the heart, the fact that Lupin had contacted him again, before he was whisked away to deal with yet another issue the owner had raised. It slipped his mind.

It was when Zenigata had slapped his handcuffs around Lupin's wrists, in an old, abandoned house, miles away from the rest of his squad, that Lupin addressed his messages for the first time. They were both panting, Lupin pressed against the wall as Zenigata towered over him, when he spoke, "Gee Pops, I could hardly outrun you. I planned to rile you up with my texts, but I didn't think it would work this well."

Zenigata blinked, flush rising in his cheeks. He pushed Lupin back against the wall. "Don't talk about that here."

"Oh-ho, and what do you mean by that, Zenigata?" He was grinning, insufferable, gorgeous. Zenigata could have punched him. But footsteps echoed down the hall behind them, and as he turned to look, Lupin slipped out, joining Jigen and Goemon, who both raised their weapons, threatening. Lupin blew a kiss as he ran off, shouting, "Ciao, Zenigata!"

He slumped back against the wall, sighing. Lupin was going to be the death of him.

The texts were not the most personal thing that had happened between Zenigata and Lupin. Sure, the last time they had slept together was a year ago, but Zenigata would be lying if he said he hadn't spend countless nights awake, mind going over the memories of his hands on Lupin's skinny frame, in a closet, countless hotel rooms - one time Lupin had even managed to convince him while they were camped in a barn. It made him blush every time he remembered, made his knees weak when he remembered too much, and made him guilty when he thought too hard. Every time, Lupin had been his usual self, albeit in a wildly different context than Zenigata was used to; he was light, easily excitable, and completely free of responsibility. He delighted in making Zenigata squirm.

The first time, trapped in a cupboard as they were, he had pressed himself against Zenigata, insisting that there just no room in the dusty space. Had felt Zenigata up way too much to have a real excuse and had been unbearably smug when he found that not only was Zenigata interested, but very much willing to participate. Of course, their relationship was destined to be nothing more than an irregular fling, as they rarely found time to be together. It didn't stop Zenigata from falling hard, though. Lupin had seemingly never reciprocated these deeper feelings. The messages had given Zenigata hope - a small, stupid, ridiculous hope - that perhaps Lupin was just better at hiding it than he was.

The third and fourth text arrived together as a photograph and caption. It was a picture of the sun setting over the ocean in some unrecognisable, yet beautiful location. From what Zenigata could see, Lupin appeared to be lounging in a beach chair, legs crossed, wearing swimming shorts. The caption read, "Wish you were here." That made Zenigata snort - exactly the sort of sarcastic, tongue-in-cheek thing Lupin would send. It was the first time he felt compelled to reply, typing, "Yeah, right." Lupin didn't send anything back. He tried not to feel disappointed.

Zenigata received no more messages from the unknown number for a few months, despite the flurry of activity Lupin seemed to be getting up to. He had been slowly making his way, via a string of heists, from the south of France to the border of Switzerland, just in time for the skiing season. Zenigata had been so overworked he really hadn't had any time to think about the texts, which was definitely the only reason they remained unknown to Interpol. He had, however, managed to find time to change the contact to 'Lupin'. Just so he wouldn't be caught off guard by any new texts. No other reason. Lupin, however, had clearly found a work around for any preparation Zenigata seemed to have made, by surprising him with another photo in the middle of the night.

Zenigata was posted in a hotel by himself, in a town near Lyon, where Lupin was presumed to make his next move. He was sitting on his bed, flicking through the report on Lupin's last break-in, when his phone buzzed. Excitement shot up within Zenigata but was quickly pushed down by the shame of realising he almost looked forward to Lupin's messages. The man had only texted him on three occasions before, he had hardly done anything to warrant such a reaction. But Zenigata was lonely, even if he didn't want to admit it, and no one ever sent him messages outside of work. Although, Lupin probably counted as work too. Fuck, things were getting too complicated.

He picked up his phone slowly, as if to fool himself into forgetting his eagerness, but nearly dropped it upon seeing what had been sent. It was him. Zenigata. A photograph of himself, on the exact bed, in the exact hotel room he was sitting in. Bolting upright, he stared, realised it must have been taken from one of the buildings opposite. Moving to the window, Zenigata peered out, but was met with two hotels. He couldn't discern which one Lupin was positioned in. He texted back, "Lupin what the hell."

"Aw don't look so mad Pops. I just wanted to see you ;)"

Dimly, Zenigata was aware the lights in the room were making it easier to see in, but part of him dismissed the idea of turning them off. He didn't want to think too hard about why. He swallowed thickly, staring at the photo again, before Lupin sent through another of Zenigata standing at the window. Looking at himself, he hated that Lupin was always seeing him like this, sleeves rolled up, hair dishevelled, tie loose, with his top button undone. No matter how many times they slept together, Lupin was always the composed one, able to reduce Zenigata to nothing but whimpers in seconds. A hot flash ran through him at the thought. God, Lupin was always able to get under his skin.

"You been working all night?" Came another message.

Zenigata sat back on the edge of his bed. Against his better judgement, he replied, "Yeah."

Then, "You've been pretty busy."

"Well, you know how expensive it is to ski these days."

"Not really, I don't get the chance." He knew what he was implying when he said that: I don't get the chance to ski because you take up all my time. Lupin knew though. He'd always had Zenigata's full attention.

"Ah, I wish you could come with me then. I could show you the ropes ;)."

"Or the slopes."

"Ha! You've got jokes now, have you, Pops?"

Zenigata couldn't help smiling at that, feeling ridiculously giddy, before quickly schooling his expression in case Lupin was looking. He felt like a damn teenager. The idea of spending time in a luxury resort with Lupin stuck in his mind. Hoping to steer the conversation back to more familiar territory, he types, "Don't suppose you could give me any hints as to what you're doing?"

"Well, I think you mostly know. Working by myself, just some local 'smash and grabs' but I like to think I have more flair than that phrase suggests."

He snorts, thinking of the mess most of the scenes were left in. Any ideas of 'flair' that Lupin had were entirely superficial, especially when he had the rest of his crew involved.

"Enough about me though. You look like you need some help relaxing."

Something familiar curled in Zenigata. He wondered, briefly, what Lupin was doing as they were talking. Was he still sitting by the window, binoculars in one hand, phone in the other? Was he still taking photos, and simply keeping them to himself, or was he just watching? Zenigata's mind felt slow, as he typed, "Yeah?" in reply. He was quickly becoming preoccupied with too many thoughts.

"Why don't you take your tie off?"

Okay, now Zenigata's mind was completely in the gutter. How had Lupin come to learn exactly what buttons to push? He took his tie off anyway, thinking to reply he'd done so, before remembering that Lupin was probably staring right at him.

"And your belt too. Can't be comfortable lying down with it on."

Grunting, Zenigata shifted to do so, realising how absurd his situation was - the detective taking orders from a criminal. And with no hesitation. Their relationship was anything but standard.

"How about you do that same?" He placed his belt on the dresser next to the bed, waiting for Lupin's response. He needed to gain the upper hand somehow, even if only to save face for himself.

"I don't need to do that actually."

"Oh, because you're always relaxed?" Typical, Lupin showing off.

"No, I'm not wearing my suit."

A pause.

"I'm actually just in a towel."

Zenigata choked, half-sitting up to cough. When he managed to get his lungs back under control he responded, “Jesus Christ Lupin.”

“What, you don’t believe me? I’ll give you proof.”

Zenigata could hardly process what was happening before a photo came through, this time of Lupin. It was taken in a mirror that was on the wall opposite his hotel bed. He was, indeed, only wearing a towel, slung low enough on his hips that he could see the tops of his thighs. Lupin’s hip was cocked to one side, his trademark grin half hidden by the phone in his hand.

He couldn’t stop staring. Zenigata’s hands gripped his phone tightly, sweat beginning to roll down his temples. “You like what you see?” Came another message.

“Yes.” He hit send before he thought not to, scrolling back up to stare at the photo again. It’d been a long time. He shifted on the bed, only to immediately stop moving as he was confronted with exactly how long a time it had been. He looked down to see the slight bulge in his pants. Over a shirtless picture of Lupin the Third. God, he had it bad.

“Whatcha looking at, Pops? Something you wanna show me?”

Of course, he had to have been watching at that moment. He flushed with embarrassment as he replied, uncertain, “I’ve never done that before.”

A few seconds between texts were enough to make Zenigata doubt that confession, until Lupin sent, “That’s okay. I don’t mind being the first person you send a dick pic to ;P”

Face burning, he pulled up the camera before he could doubt himself, facing it towards his crotch. It was so obvious now, through the pants, that there was really no second guessing what was going on. He snapped a photo and sent it through.

Another few moments, before, “God look at you, I can see how big you are even through your pants.”

He had to reach down to adjust himself. “Don’t exaggerate.”

“Zeni, you know I’m not, you’re bigger than me.” The memory of when Lupin first saw him arose: it was dark and they could hardly see, but Lupin had slid a hand around him and moaned just at the feeling of him. Zenigata never really understood the whole size thing, he had always thought he was average. But Lupin was clearly very much into it, and he didn’t really mind the compliments, even if he didn’t entirely believe them.

“I think I need a better look though. It’s been a while and I need a refresher. Can you do that for me?”

He felt like he was going to explode, from embarrassment, arousal or something else entirely. Before he began undoing his pants, though, a thought occurred to him.

“Can’t you see from your room?”

“Yeah, but I don’t get everything. I wanna see you up close.”

Steeling himself, Zenigata clicked the call button, then placed his phone on the pillow next to him, waiting for Lupin to pick up. His voice came through on speaker. “Do you not wanna continue, Pops? It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind.”

“No I…” He swallowed. God he couldn’t believe he was going to do this. “Just keep looking in my window.”

A noise of amusement came through the phone as Lupin’s only response. Zenigata took a deep breath, before unzipping his pants, and shoving his hand in.

“Oh, I’m getting a private show, am I?”

Zenigata nodded in response, hand curling around the thickness of his cock, pulling it out of his pants, so Lupin could see. He was sweating more now, panting slightly. It was almost as if he could feel Lupin’s eyes on him, through the layers of glass, across a busy road.

“Go on baby, show me how you like it.”

He twitched at that, the pet name. He was so weak for Lupin’s encouragements, his praise. Zenigata really wanted to make it good for him.

Starting slow, he tugged gently, feeling himself from root to tip, rubbing his palm slightly when he reached it. It was too dry though, almost uncomfortable, so he turned, fumbled for the lotion in the drawer next to the bed. When he pulled it out, he heard a small laugh over the phone.

“You keep that there just for me?”

Zenigata shook his head, saying through puffs of breath, “Gotta… got to stay moisturised somehow,” as he applied it to himself.

The laugh came louder, but it was sweet, a little teasing but not at all mean. “Keep talking,” he said, beginning to move his hand again.

“What do you want me to say?”

He grunted, shifting his angle. “Don’t be difficult.”

Another snort, a pause, then “What are you thinking about?”

“Y-you.” His hand sped up.

“Anything in particular? Or just my general charm.”

“Our,” his breath hitched. “Our first time together.”

“Mmm, that was good, wasn’t it? I have to say, I think about that more than our other times.”

Zenigata was a little stuck on the fact that Lupin thought about their times together at all, but he continued on, “I was surprised you agreed. I thought you’d be at least a little bit more repressed.”

“Hey!”

Lupin ignored him. “You were still so shy though. Like you thought that you shouldn’t want it, no matter how much you did.”

Zenigata thought to refute his statement, that he was not, in fact, shy, but then a callus caught just below the head of his cock and any coherent thought flew out the window.

“Seeing you get on your knees before me though, I don’t think I’ve seen anything hotter.” He twitched in his palm.

“Fujiko wasn’t lying when she said you were good with your mouth. And with taking orders.”

“You talk about that stuff?” Something tugged at him below his navel, at the memory of himself and Fujiko together, long before he and Lupin had. He briefly wondered if they ever spoke about him when they-

“Can you take your shirt off? I wanna see you better.”

He groaned, having to take his hand away to do so, but sat up anyway. He pulled of his shirt and singlet, discarding them on the floor next to the bed, before lying back down. For good measure he pushed his pants further down too, until they stuck around his thighs.

A pleased hum came through the phone. “You look so good for me, Zeni.”

His hand, which had just been resting on his cock, quickly began moving again. He was leaking liberally now, and he winced at the slick sound - the small gasp on the other end of the line confirmed that Lupin could hear it.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yeah.” He was breathless, barely able to talk.

“Do you always think about me when touching yourself?”

His eyes squeezed shut and he nodded. “Use your words.”

He gasped, “God, yes, all the time,” his rough hand twisting hard.

“You’re so close already, aren’t you Zeni?”

He moaned, nodding, just able to get out a small, “Yes,” before he whimpered as he slid his hand up to rub at his chest. Lupin’s voice was curling around him, tugging on his insides, making him ridiculously desperate. He’d never been this quick when with Lupin, and if he had the presence of mind he’d be thankful Lupin didn’t tease him about it.

“I wanna see you come, Koichi. Can you do that for me?”

He groaned at the use of his name, hand squeezing tighter, breathing harder, as he jerked himself to the sound of Lupin’s continued encouragement, his compliments. Lupin, who Zenigata was touching himself for, was putting on a show for. When he came he felt like he’d been shot, gasping as it crashed over him in such a sudden wave, he was hardly prepared for it, body curling in on itself. He could distantly hear Lupin’s words, almost babbling, as his ears rang and stars clouded his vision.

When he finally came to, moments later, Lupin was still on the phone, waiting for him. “Was that good, Zeni?”

He nodded, hardly able to move, his orgasm having sapped his strength. Shit he was getting old. As he came out of his haze, he realised that Lupin hadn’t attempt to get himself off at all. “Do you want me to-“

“Shh, it’s okay. Just go to sleep. You need it.” He felt like he should have been appalled at the slight patronising tone of Lupin’s words, but he couldn’t find it in himself to argue. He simply reached over to tug off the lamp, slipping under the covers, listening to Lupin’s breathing through the phone.

The next day, Zenigata was incredibly well rested. He was also incredibly pissed off, as Lupin had stolen € 10,000 worth of jewellery from a local store in the early hours of the morning. Zenigata couldn’t find it in himself to be too mad, though, as an envelope he found Lupin had left behind in the shop contained a photograph of him that definitely made up for it.