Title: Shoot the Moon
Fandom: Lupin the Third
Rating: Explicit
Pairing(s): Lupin/Jigen
Warning(s): blood, gore, body horror, strong language, sexual content
A/N: I haven't written anything in like two years. 2022 is promising to be a very weird year for me. Why not add "writing fanfic again" to that tally?

I've just really fallen in love with Lupin/Jigen (or whatever the hell the smooshed ship name is called) lately. I also love the idea of Jigen being a dog or werewolf, and I want to write smut. Hence I turned on some rock, opened Google Docs, and started typing away. Writing felt semi normal again. I could've wrote something condensed, but whatevs. I need more werecreature fic in my life. Also more Lupin/Jigen smut apparently.

Chapter One: Hell Hound on My Trail

1111

The only thing keeping Daisuke Jigen's night from being a complete shitshow was that the wind in his hair was cool. Even late at night, it was hotter than hell during the Alabama summer. His bottom half, the side blocked from the top of the car, was soaked in sweat. Wind be damned, he could smell that he desperately needed a shower. He impulsively tugged on his right pant leg seam, which stuck back to his inner thigh as soon as he let go.

A grunt. This wasn't the worst condition he'd been after a heist. No broken bones, no scars. But this damned heat–

Jigen's eyes shifted to Lupin. The thief focused on the road, his lips curled in a wide smile as he smoked a cigarette. He cheerfully sang a tune under his smoke filled breath, "Lost Highway" by Hank Williams, Sr. Appropriate, considering its recent relevance. Still was something Jigen thought was too drab, too out there for Lupin's tastes. How could he be so calm now? He couldn't help but ask him one simple question.

"How the hell can you be so happy right now?"

"You're the one saying I'm 'happy,'" Lupin remarked, tone still bright. "But you know the saying– 'the show must go on.'"

Eyes still on the road, Lupin turned on the radio. The shaky reception crackled from the very end of one old country song to an old blues song. Guitar strings strung.

"Oh, how fitting!" Lupin sang along. "I got to keep movin', I got to keep movin'… Say, Jigen, what do you know about Robert Johnson?"

"Robert Who?"

"There's a hellhound on my trial, hellhound on my trail… Robert Johnson. The guy singing."

"What about him?"

"Didn't listen during our last brainstorming session, did we? No worries, I'll explain again. Legendary blues singer that some say sold his soul to the devil for fame and fortune."

"Well, didn't work out for him, then, because I never heard of him. Not like I give a shit about this sort of music. Why do you care? I've never seen you so much as listen to Dolly Parton before this goddamned 'tour,' and now you're suddenly some friggin' expert on American country music."

"He died very young. Whether that was from the devil taking what was his, I don't know and I don't care. What I do care about is this– His output is as short as it is legendary. Only 29 confirmed recordings. Twenty-nine recordings and t'was all. Of course, I've caught wind of rumors of a 30th recording hiding somewhere in the Delta. It'll fetch us a pretty profit, I'm sure–"

"Like Hank Williams's guitar is doing for Fujiko now?" Jigen replied.

Typical Lupin. Getting tricked by Fujiko and getting jack shit. For some dead guy's guitar, it was deceptively a pain in the ass to steal. Not "steal crown jewels" hard, but it wasn't "break glass and rip out" easy either. Jigen couldn't figure out why this particular failed heist was annoying him. Was it that it was country music memorabilia, things that didn't catch his interest? Was it that Graceland would've been far more fun? Was it the damned heat? Then again, Lupin should've known better. Hell, he knew better than to get mixed up with that damned woman again–

He blinked. Mixed up…

"...Wait…" Jigen scratched his head. "You said the Delta?"

"Of course," Lupin answered playfully. "Why do you ask?"

"Because we passed a sign saying ten miles to the Georgia border like ten minutes a–"

The car passed another sign. "Welcome to Georgia," it read.

Lupin turned his head towards the sign now behind them. "Oh. Well, crap!"

"Yeah, no shit," Jigen said, looking at Lupin. "Guess we'll just hit the sack at the first cheap motel we see, then head to Mississippi in the morning."

"Sounds like a plan," Lupin said.

Jigen closed his eyes, then sighed. Soon. It'd be over soon. A smoke and a shower and he could forget all about this day.

HIs eyes opened just in time to see something large and bipedal running just far enough way from their headlights. Something running right into their lane, square center.

"Lupin! Look ou–"

Lupin swerved hard to the right. The brakes screamed as loudly as both men as it ran partly off the road, just missing a large oak.

The music died. The new soundtrack consisted of heavy breathing.

"Jigen! Jigen! Are you okay, buddy?" Lupin asked between pants, evidently unhurt. He ran his fingers back through his hair, then over his face as he looked at said buddy.

Jigen groaned. His teeth hurt from sudden gnashing. But ultimately, he was more sore than he was hurt. "Yeah, I think I am," he replied with a grunt as he held his head.

Their breathing progressed to normal pace. A whippoorwill called in the dark on the forest lined road.

"What was that thing?" Lupin asked.

"Beats me. Definitely wasn't a deer. I know that much."

Loud rustling came on the other side of the road.

"It's still here," Lupin said.

A car door shut. He turned around to find Jigen no longer riding shotgun.

Lupin unlocked the car door. "Jigen, what're you–"

"-Stay."

Whether it was a mutant deer, an inbred redneck, or frickin' Bigfoot, he didn't care. All he knew was that that damned thing could've killed him. Could've killed Lupin. And for that reason he couldn't forgive it.

Jigen slowly stepped forward. Instinct itched like his finger on the trigger he was inches away from pulling. Right as he touched the gun resting against his lower back, something slammed into his left side.

Snarls and growls and screams drowned the whippoorwill's cries. Adrenaline clouded Jigen's senses. He sensed something on top of him, something large and furry. Its wide mouth poured a foul stench. Something wet dropped onto his face. The teeth, the teeth! Large and pointed and yellowed, soon turned red after digging into flesh. His flesh. Pain engulfed him and he screamed as primal survival kicked in. Anything to kick this damn heavy bastard off of him and blow his brains out.

There was a bang. The large and furry thing's head jerked. Without a yelp or a groan, it collapsed atop him and stopped moving.

Lupin still held his smoking gun as he asked, once again–

"Jigen! Talk to me! Are you okay?!"

His partner pushed the creature off. He couldn't help but notice that the creature that Lupin shot the brains out of felt sticky not with blood, but with sweat.

His friend helped him to his feet, stood by him. He breathed sharply as he held his bitten and bleeding left shoulder. Then, as they looked down, his heart beat faster from another adrenaline shot.

"No, no. It can't be. It can't be…"

The beast that had bit him was now a man. A hairy naked man, dead on the road. He looked much smaller, much more pathetic and scawnier than the massive animal that overpowered him.

"Man, he got you good! You're bleeding heavily!"

Jigen stammered. "But, but, but– He was some animal just a second ago!"

"He was some animal alright," Lupin said. "What sort of drug he took, I half don't want to know. I'm more concerned for you. C'mon, let's find someplace to stop and look at that wound of yours, then get some rest."