A seedy bar was the last place Pycal would expect to find himself… and yet… there he was, sat in the back of the bar with a furrowed brow.

His eyes fell to the caramel coloured liquid in his glass, seeing the ice cubes float about in it and reflect his miserable reflection back at him. It was as if the alcohol itself, something he'd sought comfort in, was spitting in his face for even thinking about doing so, reminding him of his failures with the simple image of his own face.

He could feel it under his hair rest against his cheek; the burn scar.

There were a mass of them all over his torso and back, all from his run in with Lupin however many months or years ago it was now. Some nights, laying in bed, he could feel the fire all over him. He could feel the flames lick at his skin and the sear of pain that followed.

Something he'd attempted to master had in turn engulfed him and become his undoing. He'd learned and took his fire a lot more seriously… though it wasn't as if he'd been burning many things lately. Nothing valuable, at least.

He glanced up from his drink as a figure stood in the bar's entrance. They were backlit by the midnight street lights flooding inside, and yet he could recognize that silhouette. That hat…

He averted his eyes, not wanting to draw attention to himself. The past few months had already been enough of a stress on him, he couldn't … didn't want to… go through any more of it. Life… had other plans.

Watching like a hare would carefully watch a hawk out of caution, Pycal kept his eyes on the gunman as he strode inside and took a seat at the bar. Strange, he was alone. He would have sworn that somebody like Jigen wouldn't come to the bar without Lupin - the two were practically attached at the hip. They were very close, of course.

Pycal looked to his drink and took a sip, the ice in the glass half melted and brushing against his lip. 'What on earth is he doing here… he's the last person I wanted to see right now… fuck,' the magician thought, his thoughts interrupted by that voice. He glanced up, alert, seeing that Jigen had ordered a drink for himself - scotch.

He traced his eyes over the soft looking yet scruffy hair the gunman had, tracing his eyes down that slender back. Self control kicked in before he could make a horny fool of himself, shaking his head to clear it and sipping his drink. His hand shook a little, cheeks warmed up half from the alcohol and half from something else.

What was he doing here? What was he doing here?! WHAT WAS HE DOING HERE?!

'It's just a bar, he's just coming in and using the bar for it's intended purpose. Calm down…'

He felt a sense of paranoia, fearing that something… anything… like what happened before with those two would happen again. His scars almost felt warm with Jigen's presence, as if the gunman simply being present reignited the flames that scarred him. He calmed himself somewhat, looking to the three quarters empty glass of whiskey and sighing.

If he tried to leave, he knew it might draw attention to himself. As far as he knew, Lupin and Jigen swore he was dead.

He glanced to the door multiple times, his heart thumping. He watched as Jigen sat down in the booth beside his, his paranoid thoughts raging in his mind. 'Just leave… just leave. He won't be able to stop you, and why would he? Just leave… it'll be quick and easy and over in a-'

"Hey."

His heart damn well near stopped. Looking up, his eyes met those peeking out from under that fedora the man never seemed to be without, as if it were a part of him. Might as well have been.

Pycal frowned, feeling the buzz from the whiskey and not being as eager to leave as he had been. "What do you want, huh? You come to hunt me down? Finish the job? Was it not enough to humiliate me and destroy me twice now?" he asked, a low growl to his voice.

Jigen smirked "If you survived it twice, there's a good chance you survived it a third time. You're a hard man to kill, Pycal. That's why I'm here."

"So you did track me down then."

"Never denied it, did I?"

Pycal frowned, shrugging and looking to the now emptied glass with tiny pathetic pebbles of ice melting into a half clear mix of water and whiskey. A few moments of silence passed before Pycal raised his eyes up once more, a half scowl on his face as he looked over the gunman's features.

"If I'm a hard man to kill, why are you here to try and finish me off?"

"Never said that, Pycal. If I wanted you dead I could have sniped you down from the building across the street."

Pycal muttered to himself, tempted to refill the glass he held tight in his grip. He felt a rush of warmth as Jigen's hand grazed the back of his hand resting against the booth table. The simple, brief contact of the slightly calloused fingers against his smooth hairless hand's back gave him goosebumps.

"Ji-gen…" he muttered, voice cracking slightly out of surprise. "What are you…"

A soft warm breath escaped Jigen's lips, feeling it against his neck as Jigen had moved in closer. A shiver ran down his back from the closeness, eyes darting to Jigen as the gunman leaned in and glanced up at him through his bangs.

"Mmh… you're quite drunk aren't you?" he asked, feeling though he knew the answer.

Pycal looked to the glass on the table and let out a huff "It's just one whiskey."

Jigen smirked "So…"

"Ah, no! As if I would, you're… not coming onto me are you, Jigen?!" Pycal asked, giving a flustered look to the man sat with him. His heart pounded for a whole other reason than when Jigen first entered the bar, watching as those thin lips spread into a smile and he chuckled.

That damned melodic sound, raspy and deep and warm like a blanket on a cold winter's night.

"What if I am?" Jigen asked, a gleam in his eyes as he looked to the magician "Would you turn me away?"

Pycal felt his heart pound against his ribcage, practically able to hear it in his ears. Part of him wondered if Jigen could hear it too. He glanced away briefly, thinking but it was all for naught when Jigen stood up and paid for their drinks.

"Wait I never said-!"

Jigen smirked, watching Pycal blush as he'd fallen right into the trap Jigen had set. "S-shut up, how do you know I was going to say I'd go with you? I could be saying no," he said, frowning and folding his arms.

Jigen, stroking Pycal's cheek with a warm look, knew what he needed to. "You wouldn't let me get so close if it were a no, would you?" he said, a gleam in his eyes, knowing how dangerous Pycal could be if he so desired.

Pycal blushed red and watched as Jigen held his hand and lifted him from his seat to stand. "You need me to walk you home?" the gunman asked, tilting his hat up a bit. The magician shook his head though paused and gave a soft nod, looking away to avoid that damned smirk he could see out the corner of his eye.

His hand still held by Pycal, he walked with him out into the midnight lights.