Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cobb leaned back in the seat of his car, trying to remain inconspicuous as he watched the man across the street. The man, who had been hard to track down due to his new alias seemed simple enough. In fact, had Cobb not known just who he was looking for he would have said this was just your normal, average middle aged man doing yard work on a Thursday afternoon. Still, faces don’t lie, and the picture on Cobb’s phone matched the man he had been following all day.

He stepped out of the car, looking both ways before he crossed the street. It wasn’t on coming traffic he was worried about per say, but more of the threat of being followed himself. So far, nothing. But the deeper he went into this case the more likely he knew it could happen.

“Are you Bill Burr?” Cobb asked, standing on the sidewalk near the man’s house. Of course that wasn’t the man’s real name. Using that right off the bat might cause him to run, and Cobb knew just how slippery this man could be. If he made a break for it and Cobb lost him he might not find him again. Besides, it was Texas in mid August. If he could avoid a chase in this kind of heat he would. He may have been born and raised in this weather but that didn’t make it any more enjoyable.

“Depends who’s asking.” The man said, stiffening. Clearly the only people who would approach him like that were criminals or cops, and he knew it. Cobb knew it, too.

“US Marshal Cobb Vanth.” He said, going straight for it. He flashed his badge out of protocol. Of course he could tip toe around it, try to weasel out the information he needed one way or another. But that took time, time that he didn’t have right now. “I was-”

It was all he managed to get out before the man was running. He sighed, grumbling to himself before following. Chasing down suspects had always been his least favorite part of the job. And while he was no where near retiring, he also wasn’t a fresh young pup anymore. That mixed with the brutal summer heat crashing down on his body and Cobb knew he was going to be rougher than necessary once he caught up with the man. If he caught up. Someone shorter and slightly stockier than him shouldn’t be so damn fast.

They ran though the back yard, hopping over a fence that was just a little too high. Cobb’s feet hit the ground hard, sending a twinge up his leg. It would bother him later, but as long as he could move now he’d be fine. They sprinted past a couple who dodged out of the way with only seconds to spare.

“Sorry.” He said out of habit. Whether or not they heard didn’t really matter. It was the thought that counts.

The man sprinted across the street, running in front of a car. Cobb could see the panic in the drivers eyes as she slammed on the breaks. The car stopped inches away, just missing him, and Cobb picked up speed. The man had dodged the car, tilting his body away into a turn that had slowed him down just enough for Cobb to gain the upper hand. They made it out of the street, onto the sidewalk, and then Cobb was tackling the man on someone’s freshly cut lawn.

“No!” He called out as they went down, slamming hard into the ground beneath. He struggled for a moment, but Cobb’s entire weight sat on his back made it impossible.

“Migs Mayfeld, you are under arrest for accessory to murder, aggravated assault, and three counts of breaking and entering and burgulary.” Cobb told him as he slapped the handcuffs around his wrists. “Oh and you can slap evading arrest onto the list, too.”

“Fuck you.” Mayfeld spat from his place on the ground. By now the neighbors had begun popping their heads out of windows and doors to see all the commotion. It was time to go. Cobb didn’t want local police involved in what he had planned. Things would be easier that way.

“Come on.” He hauled the man up, finally taking a good look at him. Despite the rough tumble down he looked fairly unfazed, albeit pissed off and defeated. Cobb ushered them back to his vehicle.

“Hey, don’t manhandle me, bumpkin, I can walk on my own.” Mayfeld snapped, trying to pull away from Cobb’s firm grip. He didn’t budge.

“Bumpkin?” Cobb questioned, quirking an eyebrow. Even without reading up on Migs Mayfeld’s background he could easily tell he was from the Boston area. His accent was thick and his attitude was standoffish. He should have expected a little attitude, especially with what he had planned.

“Am I wrong?” No. Or not really, depending on how you viewed the word. Clearly Mayfeld meant it as an insult. Cobb just rolled his eyes and vowed to manhandle Mayfeld as much as possible. He’d find a punishment for the bumpkin comment, too.

They approached Cobb’s black unmarked car. It had no cage separating the front from the back, but it was equipped with standard police lights. He stopped on the passenger side of the car, giving the area another once over. No prying eyes. Good. Unfortunately Mayfeld noticed the hesitation as well.

“I think you’re supposed to put me in the car. I mean I’m no expert, but…”

“You should be. You’ve been arrested enough times” Cobb shot back. Still, he didn’t make a move to throw the man in the back of his car. They stood for a moment, Mayfeld growing tense as he tried working out scenarios in his mind. Surely none of them made sense, and the truth wasn’t likely to either.

“You’re a hard man to find, Migs.”

“Mayfeld.” The man corrected, eyeing him suspiciously. With Cobb’s tight grip on his shirt Mayfeld couldn’t run. He wouldn’t get far with the handcuffs anyways.

“Fine. Mayfeld. You’re hard to find, but the guy I’m looking for is even harder to track down. That’s where you come in.”

“Look, Buddy I can’t help you. I’ve been out of the game almost ten years.”

“I know. That means the statute of limitations is almost up for a lot of the stuff you’ve done.” Cobb reminded him. “Almost, but not quite. Now I can help you if you help me. Or I can bring you in, and with a list like yours I wouldn’t be surprised if you went away for good.”

It was just the kind of leverage Cobb needed over a man like Mayfeld. It was the only way he’d get any help, and he had been working this case for years with little success. Like it or not, help is just what he needed. There was a sigh of defeat and Cobb knew he had him just where he wanted him. Maybe things would start going easier from here on out.

Chapter Text

Working with Migs Mayfeld was anything but easy. He was rude and crass and even oddly funny at times. But he was by no means easy to work with. In fact after the fifth time he had brought up just how much he hated Cobb for doing this to him, Cobb was just about ready to put one of their heads through a window. Still, he took a deep breath and tried to brush it off. He was well equipped to deal with a few complaints and like it or not he needed Mayfeld’s help. And Cobb pointedly did not like it.

“Geez, can’t we listen to something else?” Mayfeld slammed his head back against the head rest with a loud sigh. “I know you’re a dirty hillbilly and all, but isn’t there anything else you enjoy besides Country?”

In truth Cobb only mildly liked Country music despite his Southern upbringing. It was good for a song or two every once in a while. But it clearly got under Mayfeld’s skin and was good payback for all the ‘hick, bumpkin, and cousin fucker’ comments the man loved to spew. Cobb may have been raised in the South, but he had lost the thicker tones of his accent long ago from spending so much time North, moving from state to state for work. Instead of replying he just turned the volume up a few notches.

“Lovely.” Was the man’s reply. He swung a leg up, crossing one over the other to get a better look at the device Cobb had snapped into place around his ankle. A modified ankle bracelet that required close proximity to Cobb at all times. Neither of them were particularly happy about it, but it was the only way he could ensure Mayfeld wouldn’t run again. “So you change your mind about this thing yet?”

Again Cobb said nothing.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

“And you never shut up.” He finally said, letting a fraction of his exhaustion slip out. The sooner they finished this case the better.

“You’re forcing me to come along, the least you could do is entertain me.” Mayfeld said, placing his foot back on the ground. He spread his legs, leaning partially against the window to look at Cobb.

“You can entertain yourself.” He said, ignoring the innuendo clouding his mind. From the look on Mayfeld’s face it had clearly been intentional.

“Not in any way you’d like.” Mayfeld snorted. Cobb glared at him, taking in the man’s appearance. Maybe. Maybe not. But it wasn’t an actual option on the table.

“So can you stop talking? Is it a medical condition or do you just choose to be annoying?” Cobb asked. He shouldn’t engage, he should just get in and out and wrap up this case without a hitch. But something about Mayfeld’s demeanor begged Cobb to interact.

“Oh it’s definitely medical. In fact, unless I’m sucking on a fat cock I physically can’t stop myself from talking.” Cobb pointendly didn’t look his way, though he couldn’t stop the heat rising to his neck. The sooner they finished this case the better, indeed. “You know, uh, just some food for thought, Marshal.”

Cobb put on his best poker face. He refused to even think about what Mayfeld was suggesting. But the way he had called him Marshal had Cobb interested. Instead he decided to deflect. “So what can you tell me about your contact?”

“It’s the best way for me to get you to where you need. I’ve been out for a long time, but I still have guys who owe me.” Mayfeld shrugged. “All we gotta do is show up.”

“Can you trust him?” Cobb asked, though he knew the answer already.

“Of course not. But you don’t have another choice.”

It was the truth and Cobb hated it. The government had been chasing down Werner Herzog, aka ‘The Client’ for years. It was why Cobb had been stuck with him when all else failed. Unfortunately he was the best of the best. Even more unfortunate was just how good The Client was at hiding. He was harder to find than a needle in a needlestack. Mayfeld was just about his last chance and Cobb was willing to take it.

The rest of their ride was silent. Or silent on Cobb’s part at least. It was amazing just how much Mayfeld could talk despite being ignored and told to shut up on numerous occasions. He didn’t even talk about anything in particular. And surprisingly enough Cobb found himself genuinely interested at some point. He wasn’t exactly sure when the change had occurred, but figured it was somewhere in between conspiracy theories and good food joints in the area.

They pulled off at a rest stop due to Mayfeld’s insistent nagging. Sadly bathroom breaks, food, and even sleep were things Cobb just couldn’t avoid. He climbed out of the car stretching his legs and back. Despite all the driving he had to do for a living Cobb had never fully gotten used to it and enjoyed quick breaks often.

“You gotta follow me in there, too?” Mayfeld gave him the stink eye.

“I gotta go, too.” Cobb returned the look.

“Sure you do. Pervert.” He replied, heading to the rest stop bathroom. Cobb waited a few minutes, waiting until Mayfeld exited before he entered. The less time they spent together the better, and given the circumstances Cobb would take it on the rare occasions he could. Thankfully Mayfeld was leaned against the car on his return. At least he wouldn’t have to chase him down again. Though even if he did manage to break his way out of the ankle cuff there wasn’t anywhere for him to go. They were in the middle of nowhere on a highway surrounded by miles of woods.

“As long as you’re taking requests, can we get something to eat? I’m starvin’.” Mayfeld said as he nodded somewhere up the road. “I know a great little place a few miles out.”

“Is this the one with the rats?” Cobb wrinkled his nose at the memory of the story. He had seen his fair share of dirty restaurants and wasn’t keen on adding to the list.

“Oh so you don’t talk but you do listen. Good to know. Makes things a little less boring.” Mayfeld seemed genuinely surprised. Cobb shrugged it off. He may not particularly like Mayfeld, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. Besides, there wasn’t much else to listen to. “And this place is clean. Mostly. New management really did them a solid.”

Cobb considered his options. Eventually they would need to eat, and with a few hours until they had to meet up with Mayfeld’s contact they had time.

“It’s on me.” Mayfeld threw out as a last resort.

“Fine.” How could he argue with free food? Besides, Mayfeld couldn’t talk if he was eating. Hopefully.

Chapter Text

Apparently even food didn’t stop the flow of conversation, though Cobb found that with a full meal in his belly Mayfeld was easier to handle. He had even managed to make Cobb chuckle a few times, which was something. Mayfeld wasn’t exactly someone Cobb would enjoy going on a stakeout with, but sitting around waiting for the Contact wasn’t completely unbearable.

“You can’t come with me.” Mayfeld argued once he found out Cobb’s plan.

“I’m not letting you go alone.” Was Cobb’s reply. Clearly he was the only one with any sense in his head.

“I got the bracelet on, I can’t run.” He gestured angrily at his ankle, voice rising in frustration.

“Yeah cuz if you do it’ll beep. And if you take it off it’ll beep.” Cobb didn’t tell him there was a slight delay in the last case that would give Mayfeld a few seconds to escape. There’d be no keeping an eye on him if he knew that. “But you’re still not going alone. I don’t trust you.”

“I never said you had to! But you can’t come with. You reek of cop.”

“I’m not a cop.” He reminded the man.

“Oh my god. Cop, Marshal, FBI, traffic guard. It doesn’t matter, he’ll smell it on you from a mile away.” Mayfeld gestured down Cobb’s body. “You’re dressed like a cop and he’s going to take off the minute he sees you.”

“How am I dressed like a Cop?” He looked down at his clothes as if forgetting what he wore that morning. It wasn’t his uniform of course. Just a plain shirt tucked into plain pants.

“The shoes are a dead giveaway, for one.” He rolled his eyes as if it was obvious.

“They’re standard issue.” Cobb replied.

“No shit. Plus you got your shirt tucked into your pants. You know who does that?” Mayfeld quirked an eyebrow.

“Cops?” Cobb sighed.

“Cops.” He confirmed.

“Then I’ll stay off to the side out of sight, but you’re not going alone.”

For a moment they stared at each other, weighing their options. As far as Cobb was concerned this was the only option they had.

“Fine.” The agreement was nice but not necessary. Cobb was going regardless. “But don’t say anything.”

“Fine.”

“I mean it.” Mayfeld shook a hand in Cobb’s direction, emphasizing the point.

“Fi-ne.” Cobb over emphasized the word with a dramatic eye roll. He’d stay quiet and out of sight as long as nothing went wrong. He couldn’t promise anything if things went sideways.

“And you could at least give me a gun.” Mayfeld said, not for the first time. Just like every other time Cobb denied him the opportunity to shoot his way out of there. He didn’t fancy having a bullet in his skull.

“Nice try.” He sent Mayfeld a smirk and a wink out of habit. To his dismay Mayfeld seemed immediately receptive of it.

“Hey save that for later. I don’t want to be distracted, I need a clear head for this.” The smugness radiated off him in waves.

“I wasn’t-” Cobb began to argue only to be cut off.

“I know, I know. I’m irresistible. But I’m on the job, you’ll have to wait.”

Cocky, arrogant, and not entirely wrong. Mayfeld had an air about him that drew Cobb in like a magnet. Unfortunately that pull was becoming harder and harder to ignore. It was strange considering Mayfeld wasn’t his usual type but hey, the cock wants what the cock wants.

“On the job?” He decided to ignore the beginning half of the sentence and focus on the latter portion. Unfortunately Mayfeld was right about keeping a clear head as well. “You’re not working, I am.”

“Hey, you dragged me into this. I’m working for my freedom. That’s just as motivational as monetary gain. Even more so.”

Right again. Cobb didn’t like it, but he wasn’t about to argue. If Mayfeld was about to give this case his all then so be it. Hopefully it would make things easier.

“Alright it’s time, lets go.”

They left the car far enough away from the warehouse that no one would see it. It may be unmarked, but it would still give him away if the contact saw it. Even that was something the two of them could agree on. They walked toward the buildings, looking for any sign of an ambush. This may be the best way to get a hold of The Client, but they were still meeting up with a criminal. Caution was key.

He broke off from Mayfeld, walking over to some oil drums. It was one of the few places he could hide in plain sight and still provide back up should Mayfeld need it. Unfortunately it left his back exposed, but there were no other options. All things considered their plan just might work. Mayfeld walked a few feet away, stopping just by the door of the warehouse. As long as the contact didn’t try to get him inside things would be ok. If they did, well things had the potential of devolving real fast.

Waiting had never been his strong suit. Still, he crouched silently, peaking through the space between drums in wait. Minutes ticked by dragging into an eternity before the warehouse door finally opened revealing a short, stout man with a wild mane of grey hair that encompassed his head. Ranzar Malk. Cobb had seen his case file and even heard bits and pieces from Mayfeld. Ran may not look like much but he was more than a little dangerous.

From the second Ran appeared Cobb noted the way Mayfeld’s stance changed. It was similar to when he had first met the man, though looking back he wasn’t exactly sure when it changed. Mayfeld seemed more at ease with Cobb, less hostile. And he supposed that was the case. The most Cobb could do was smack him around some and then lock him up. Ran could do infinitely worse, no doubt.

They greeted each other with a firm handshake that Ran quickly turned into a hug. Mayfeld tensed momentarily then relaxed into it. He smiled and said something unintelligible. Cobb rolled his eyes. Any other time Mayfeld was loud. Figures the one time he actually needed to hear what the other man was saying he would talk in a normal voice. Oh well, subtlety was key. Ran replied with a laugh, gearing up to say something more fully, trying to usher Mayfeld inside. Cobb swore under his breath as he waited for Mayfeld to make an excuse to stay out in the open. They had talked about it in depth so if he put even one toe inside that warehouse Cobb would throttle him. He couldn’t provide back up if he couldn’t see and he wasn’t about to risk letting Mayfeld run again.

But before Mayfeld could offer up one of the many excuses he had a man appeared. The tension was instantly palpable and a flicker of recognition crossed Mayfeld’s face.

“Fuck.” Cobb didn’t hear Mayfeld’s word as much as he saw him speak it with a scowl on his face. Clearly there was bad blood between the three of them because Ran looked just as pissed off at the newcomer.

Cobb let a hand fall to his holstered gun. Obviously he couldn’t just start shooting without reason, but he could see the man had a weapon attached at the hip, too. No doubt Ran had one on him or nearby. This could easily turn into a shoot off. Fuck indeed.

The three of them started talking which quickly turned into an argument. Mayfeld was aggressive with his many hand gestures but the Stranger held his ground, looking just as calm as he had when he walked up. Or at least he did from the back. Cobb couldn’t see the full picture from where he was. Just as he began contemplating revealing himself or not he saw Ran swing. A mistake clearly, he could tell from the size difference between them. Sure Ran had the obvious weight advantage, and it took a lot of muscle to carry around that kind of fat. But the Stranger was taller, and even from that distance Cobb could tell he was fairly muscular himself.

Before he could make a move Mayfeld had inserted himself in the situation and received a prompt elbow to the face, splitting the skin with a spray of blood, followed by a punch to the stomach that had him doubling over. Cobb drew his gun, emerging from his hiding spot. The Stranger spotted him instantly and released Ran from the chokehold he had managed to get him into in the few seconds Cobb looked away. A quick draw and the two of them stood feet apart, guns trained on each other.

“Federal Marshal Cobb Vanth. Drop your weapon.” He ordered, noting the way Ran scurried off at the mention of law enforcement. Damn. This asshole just blew their entire operation.

“Show me your badge.” The man said back, eyebrows furrowed behind large, dark aviator sunglasses.

“After you drop that gun.” He eyed the man once more. He wasn’t wearing a police uniform, though something about him hinted at law enforcement.

After a few seconds the Stranger slowly lowered his gun and reholstered it. A moment later Cobb did the same. He reached in his back pocket for his badge, flashing it toward the man.

“Sorry, Marshal. I didn’t realize anyone would be in the area.” The sentence may have started out with ‘Sorry’ but it by no means sounded like an apology.

“Uh huh. And who might you be?” He eyed him again suspiciously.

“He’s a fucking asshole is what he is.” Mayfeld said, holding a hand to his head. Blood dribbled down the side of his face, staining his fingers red. Head wounds bleed a lot, and Mayfeld hadn’t been hit hard enough to make Cobb concerned about a concussion.

“Din Djarin.” The man ignored Mayfeld, focusing solely on Cobb. Despite the large tinted glasses covering the man’s face the intensity of his unseen glare was still a lot to handle. Cobb bristled, wondering just who the hell this Din guy thought he was. “The guy you scared off had quite the bounty on his head.”

Ah. A Bounty Hunter. Cobb snickered internally, careful not to let it show. Where he came from Bounty Hunters commanded a certain amount of respect. In his line of work, however, not so much. Cobb himself could swing either way, though he could tell from the Strangers demeanor he was used to the former rather than the latter.

“Well I’m sorry about that.” He took a few steps closer to the Bounty Hunter, eyeing him carefully. The man would still be going after Ran. So would Cobb. As far as he was concerned they could work together. “But I need him for something a little more important.”

“I’m sure you do. Once I arrest him I can let the local police give you a call.” He folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head slightly. It was a clear invitation for Cobb to fuck off. He respectfully declined.

“See, that just won’t work for us.” Cobb said, instantly regretting it. Me. Never us. Not with someone like Mayfeld.

“Us?” Din scoffed, finally acknowledging Mayfeld, who had taken to cleaning up the cut on his forehead. “Since when do Marshal’s work with Skinheads?”

“Oh fuck off, wiseass.” Mayfeld snapped, taking a few steps forward.

“Mayfeld, enough.” Cobb interjected before the two of them could start another brawl. “Din, was it? I’m thinking the two of us can help each other out.”

Chapter Text

Convincing Din to work with them was nearly impossible. Almost but not quite. In fact the man seemed to vehemently disagree until he found out Mayfeld was also wildly opposed to the idea as well. After that it was easier. Cobb rolled his eyes, not wanting to touch the weird little pissing contest these two men had with a ten foot pole. But as long as he had an extra set of hands to help Cobb was willing to let the two of them bully, harass, flirt, or whatever they wanted with each other. As long as they caught Ran, which led to much bigger fish, Cobb was willing to deal with them. Or at least he thought he was.

“I want to go home.” Mayfeld complained yet again.

“Not until I get what I need.” Cobb reminded him. Once again Mayfeld was being difficult for no reason. Or at least for no good reason. So he hated the Bounty Hunter Cobb was forcing him to work with. So what?

“Then lock me up.”

“No.” He wasn’t sure what had happened between the two men, and at this point he didn’t think he wanted to. Was Din that much of an asshole that Mayfeld was willing to go back to Prison to get away from him?

“This is bullshit.”

“Uh huh.” He nodded in an attempt to appease the man. Sadly they had spent enough time together for him to know that Mayfeld was going to complain regardless of what Cobb said. Ignoring it was easy. “What exactly do you know about this guy?”

“Like I said, he’s a dick.” Mayfeld had used many choice words about Din up until this point. None of them actually told Cobb anything about the man. “He’s part of some weird biker gang cult and is the reason I got locked up a few years back.”

“He’s part of what?” He squinted, replaying the words in his head to see where he had misheard.

“I don’t know. It’s a big cult that rides motorcycles. I never asked for details. All I know is that he’s had it out for me since I uh-” Mayfeld paused, thinking over his words.

“Since you what?” He rolled his eyes. Mayfeld may hate Din because the man arrested him a long time ago, but he was sure Din had a valid reason for reciprocating. Mayfeld must have done something petty or stupid or both.

“I may have taken his bike for a joyride…. and crashed it.”

“You what?” Cobb exclaimed. He knew just how touchy motorcycle people could be. Ruining the man’s motorcycle, on purpose as Mayfeld’s story was leading him to believe, was fair game for hatred in Cobb’s book. All he had to do was make sure they didn’t tear each other’s throats out for the time being.

They pulled into the motel after Din, who reluctantly told them it was the only one in the area. It was late, Ran was on the run, and they were too far from Mayfeld’s home to turn back now. Unfortunately they had to regroup and come up with a new plan. He didn’t particularly like this plan of action but it was the most practical. Cobb climbed out of the car, pausing when Mayfeld followed him.

“No. You’re staying here. If you go in looking like that, they’ll call the police.” Cobb said, gesturing to the man’s face. Despite his efforts to clean up there was still a trail of blood surrounding a nasty looking gash above his right eyebrow. Getting the cops called on them was a complication he’d like to avoid.

Mayfeld complained per usual, but stayed put. He gestured toward Din, who made his way over. Even in the dim setting sunlight the man kept his sunglasses on. Strange, but Cobb had seen worse.

“Keep an eye on him a minute, will you?” He tilted his head in Mayfeld’s direction. He couldn’t bring him in to talk to the attendant but he didn’t want to risk leaving him alone either.

Din huffed and nodded, moving closer to Cobb’s car. Ignoring the new stare down he entered the main building, making a beeline for the front desk. The attendant seemed bored and uninterested. Perfect for going unnoticed. They spoke for a moment, he paid for a room, and she handed him a key card, wishing him a good stay. Her nose was back in her phone before he even left the office.

Thankfully everyone was in the same spot he left them in. He exchanged numbers with Din, promising to meet there early in the morning. The man still seemed unenthusiastic about working together, and Cobb couldn’t blame him. He didn’t particularly enjoy working with people either, yet here he was teaming up with a wanted criminal and an abrasive bounty hunter. There was something poetic about it that he didn’t care to think of.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed his bag, leading Mayfeld down and around the side of the building. The motel seemed shabby, but clean enough for one night. Mayfeld walked side by side with him, throwing odd glances in his direction several times. Cobb waited for him to say whatever was clearly on his mind, yet it never came. He paused outside the room with the matching number on his keycard. Mayfeld stiffened.

“One room? You really don’t trust me, huh?” He asked as they walked into the room. Cobb flipped the light switch and groaned internally at the dim light that flooded the room. Unfortunately it gave off more of a sexy mood than he was comfortable with. “Oh come on, two beds? The least you could’ve done was make this fun for us.”

“I don’t have to trust you.” He repeated the other man’s words from earlier that day, making a beeline for the bed on the left. It was the one closer to the window, and he would sleep easier knowing he could hear if Mayfeld tried sneaking out either way. “And what’d you expect? A California King?”

“Would’ve made sex easier.” Mayfeld shrugged as if it were nothing. He flopped down on the opposite bed ignoring the look of disbelief Cobb shot him.

“So, are you physically capable of having a serious conversation or do you just choose to joke about everything?” Cobb could feel himself bristling and tried forcing himself to relax. Mayfeld said it with such ease that he couldn’t tell if the man was joking or not.

“Hey, I’m not joking. I keep dropping hints and you keep ignoring them.” Another shrug. His eyes burned holes in Cobb’s side as he ignored Mayfeld, instead choosing to rummage through his knapsack.

“I can’t sleep with someone in my custody.” Cobb told him, fumbling with the clothes in his hands. He didn’t actually need to look through his bag, but making eye contact seemed less than desirable in the moment.

“I’m not in your custody. We’re working a case. Partners.” A small laugh. “Or whatever makes you feel better about it, Marshal.”

Cobb was silent for some time, feeling his shoulders tense significantly with each passing second. He placed his bag on the ground and paced the room, stopping by the bathroom to peer in. At least that was clean. His mind was racing in a way that he wished it wouldn’t. It should be simple enough. Legally speaking, sleeping with Mayfeld could complicate things. It had the potential for allegations he’d rather avoid with a ten foot pole. And yet… There was just something about Mayfeld that made Cobb want to jump his bones. He always did have poor taste in men, but never this bad.

“You’re awfully laid back for such a serious request.” Cobb finally said, eyeing the man sprawled across one of the beds behind him. If it wasn’t for the blood that still covered his face, he’d look almost peaceful.

“Still waiting on a serious answer. Not a no isn’t exactly a yes.” Was the only reply he received. Once again, and Cobb was beginning to hate just how often it was, Mayfeld was right. If Mayfeld had tried making a move it would’ve been easier for Cobb to say no. But as it stood now he had a choice. Fraternize with a criminal in his custody or don’t. Why did such a simple choice have his heart racing?

Cobb dug through his bag once more, producing a simple first aid kit. Next he grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom and soaked it. Warm and damp and thankfully not white. He approached the side of Mayfeld’s bed with the items, ignoring the eyes locked onto him. Mayfeld sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, spreading them slightly to let Cobb stand between them. Cobb told himself there was no reason for them to be so close, but then decided his other option was to sit on the bed beside the man. Standing seemed like the safer option until he could talk some sense into himself.

Hesitantly, he wiped at the blood on Mayfeld’s face. There was a lot and it had long since dried, so Cobb found himself cupping the man’s chin to scrub the filth off. Mayfeld said nothing and Cobb still avoided eye contact. They were close now. Warm thighs so close to his legs, just barely touching him. He tensed again, unable to relax.

The closer he got to the nasty looking gash, the more gentle his actions became. When he finally had all the blood cleaned off Mayfeld’s face, Cobb dug around for an antiseptic wipe. One of the gentler ones as to not hurt him. The gash didn’t look too deep. It was nothing that would need stitches. Still, why be overly rough if it could be avoided?

The warmth radiating off of Mayfeld was intoxicating. Cobb found himself leaning in closer than he meant to and scowled. Briefly he let his eyes flicker to Mayfeld’s own and found a brilliant shade of bright blue locked onto him, threatening to swallow him whole. Cobb cleared his throat and focused on the cut once more. Next came an antimicrobial cream that he rubbed in with delicate fingers. Mayfeld twitched slightly, eyebrows furrowing before he relaxed into the touch again. The touch of Cobb’s hand on his chin that was no longer necessary. Still, he didn’t let go.

Finally a bandaid. It looked unconventionally large, and could probably come off in a few hours. But for now he’d make Mayfeld leave it on, for keeping the cut clean if nothing else. He moved his hands to cradle Mayfeld’s face, cupping his cheeks and pulling him closer to look at the wound more carefully. Almost all of it was covered by the bandaid. Mayfeld should be fine. Cobb should let go of his face. But he didn’t. Foolishly he let himself make eye contact again, inhaling sharply as he did so. Mayfeld looked… interested. Like he wanted to lean in and close the tiny distance between their lips. And maybe Cobb wanted him to. Still, not a no wasn’t a yes, and Mayfeld was waiting for permission Cobb just couldn’t give him.

He pulled back slowly, watching the space grow between them like a cavern. Mayfeld looked about as disappointed as Cobb felt. He reached up, tentatively touching the bandage and smiled.

“So? How’s it look, Doc?” Mayfeld wiggled his eyebrows. Well, eyebrow. One sat covered, though the bandaid moved as a whole with the motion. Cobb cleared his throat and sat on the opposite bed, across from Mayfeld.

“Like it might scar.” He frowned, but it was the truth. There was no way to know then, only time would tell. But Cobb had a sneaking suspicion it would leave a mark permanently, even if it was tiny.

“Oh well, I got plenty. What’s one more?” Another shrug had Cobb wondering how the other man could be so nonchalant about everything. He shook his head and kicked off his boots, internally curdling at the way it caught Mayfeld’s attention.

“Woah, settle down, Cowboy. Let’s take it slow. I undress you, you undress me.”

“You still on that?” Cobb took off his belt next, watching the oval Longhorn belt buckle shine in the dim light. He should really change into something more comfortable, but he didn’t like the way Mayfeld looked like he’d devour him if he did. He especially didn’t like the fact that he just might let him do it. For now this would have to do.

“You still haven’t given me a yes or no.” Mayfeld’s fingers twitched at his sides. Cobb rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly in disbelief. The determination was flattering. “Oh come on, relax.”

“I am relaxed.” Another lie. Cobb hadn’t been this strung out in a while. His mind teetered back and forth between wanting something he shouldn’t and thinking of all the potential consequences of going through with it anyway. The worst part was just how cocky Mayfeld looked, as if he knew the turmoil going on inside Cobb’s mind. He hated the fact that it made him want to jump the man more.

“Not enough. Just lay down, I’ll give you a nice massage, get those kinks rubbed right out.” His smirk had Cobb tingling all over.

A massage? When was the last time he had one of those? It did sound nice after all. Plus those strong hands had caught Cobb’s attention more than once. They were working hands, rough and used. He shivered at the thought of them on his bare flesh. Then against his better judgment Cobb was stripping his shirt off, nerves alight under Mayfeld’s intense gaze. He laid on his bed, crossing his arms under his head and looking toward the window rather than at the man who shifted closer.

“This is the closest thing to a yes as you’re gunna get.” He mumbled just loud enough to be heard.

“Wait are you serious?” Shock laced his voice, momentarily making Cobb doubt his actions. “...Cuz I will.”

“Mayfeld, I’m a ‘say it once’ kinda guy.” Cobb told him more confidently. For a moment nothing happened. Then, the bed dipped next to him and Cobb ignored the voice in his head screaming at him for being an idiot, instead focusing on the warm fingertips that ran up his sides.

Chapter Text

Warm fingers trailed up his side, causing Cobb to shiver. They ran up and over his shoulders, settling firmly on the curve of his neck. Mayfeld added a slight pressure, lightly rubbing into the spot where the neck and shoulders meet, and Cobb’s entire body lit up. He sighed at the feeling, refraining from leaning into the touch. He could practically see the smirk of Mayfeld’s face in his mind. Smug magic-fingered bastard.

Rough fingers kneaded his flesh, rubbing slowly, covering every inch of his back. Cobb melted into the touch, worries slipping his mind easily. What had he been so worried about when Mayfeld had a touch this good? Years of tension that was more part of him than not slipped from his body with every rub. He groaned at the contact, unable to help himself. It just felt so good.

A slow tingle downward had Cobb shifting slightly on the bed in an attempt to adjust his hardening length. He moaned softly as Mayfeld found a particularly sensitive spot right under his shoulder blades. Fingers dug in a little rougher, making Cobb thrust half heartedly into the mattress beneath him for friction.

Mayfeld’s hands trailed lower, slow enough that Cobb hardly noticed until they were midway down his back. A work injury from nearly two decades before left his lower back sore more often than not. Now thumbs rubbed circles into the muscle there making Cobb moan again. If his body could feel more boneless it would simply slip from the bed and roll away. He rutted against the mattress again. Those magic fingers trailed lower, brushing along the hem of Cobb’s pants. Not that he thought Mayfeld needed more encouragement, but Cobb slightly arched his ass into the man’s hands, just in case.

Tentatively Mayfeld’s hands dipped below his pants, softly rubbing at Cobb’s ass cheeks. He had never received a massage there and now he was having a hard time remembering why. It felt so damn good. Hands dipped lower, pulling uncomfortably at his pants. Mayfeld removed his hands and Cobb nearly whined at the lack of touch, and then fingers reached under the front of him. Cobb lifted himself slightly off the bed, letting Mayfeld’s feather light touch brush up against his hard dick. There and gone, leaving him wanting more. In one fluid motion Mayfeld flicked open the button and unzipped his jeans. A hand gripped his length more firmly momentarily before Mayfeld was yanking both Cobb’s pants and underwear down.

The sudden bareness of his body should leave him feeling some sort of shame. But it didn’t. He just eagerly kicked out of his pants and spread his legs slightly, waiting for those magic hands back on his body. Mayfeld cupped his ass, one cheek in each hand and gave a light squeeze. Cobb’s ass had always been one of his best features.

Massaging again, the man made his way down Cobb’s thighs and calves, which was an area that so rarely received any attention that he was yearning for more even before it stopped. Delicate fingers ran down the soft sole of his foot making him hiss and twitch.

“Ticklish?” Mayfeld murmured, repeating the action only to get a similar response. Cobb was very ticklish.

“Feet are off limits, Partner.” Cobb told him. Then the hands were back on his ass, kneeling the flesh there, pulling his cheeks apart slightly. He moaned at the touch, wanting more. “In my bag. Second zipper. The little one.”

The dip in the bed rose as Mayfeld crossed the floor to retrieve the items. After a not as long as it felt moment and several zips later he heard a soft chuckle. Clearly the man had found the items Cobb was referring to. Condoms and lube.

“You came prepared. Thought you didn’t fuck criminals, Marshal.” Mayfeld’s usual patronizing voice was replaced with something slightly huskier. A hint of eroticism if Cobb had to guess. He rose on his hands and knees, looking over his shoulder at the man.

“Not exactly what I said. I’m always prepared. But if you don’t want to do this…” Cobb trailed off, slinking his head back down to rest on one arm while the other hand gently wrapped around his achy cock to give it a few light strokes. He left his ass in the air, a clear invitation.

“I didn’t say that.” Mayfeld was quick to correct. The sound of clothes hitting the floor was music to Cobb’s ears.

This time when the bed dipped, it was accompanied by a warm body. Mayfeld settled between Cobb’s thighs, setting his body on fire. Hot flesh on flesh, yet he still couldn’t feel Mayfeld’s cock on his ass.

“So, uh, how do you want to do this, Marshall?” Again hands trailed up his body, from his thighs to his ass. Mayfeld squeezed, as if expressing that this position was just fine.

“I reckon just like this is fine.” He told him, pressing himself backwards, finally feeling a cock bump into the spot between his ass and his thigh. It seemed hefty, but not overly so. More fun, less painful. “Unless you have something else in mind?”

“No, this is good.” Mayfeld told him, fingers lightly trailing across Cobb’s skin until they brushed his hole. Cobb shivered. “Really good.”

The slight huskiness to Mayfeld’s voice had Cobb pushing back again. The click of the cap on the lube opening behind him had Cobb’s already racing heart beating faster. He peered over his shoulder once more to see Mayfeld apply a generous amount to his fingers. Then, a slick finger circled around him and Cobb’s mind went blank. He pressed his forehead back against his arm, closing his eyes and just taking in the feeling. It felt good. Real good.

Slowly Mayfeld circled and rubbed and touched, gently pushing in a little every now and then. It was driving Cobb insane. Just as he was about to demand rushing the process along, a blunt finger was being pushed inside him. Cobb gasped, a little taken by surprise, but not in a bad way. His cock twitched, and he angled his hips backwards, sheathing the finger fully inside him.

“Someone’s eager, huh?” Mayfeld asked, a slight cockiness to his voice. That was more familiar, less serious. It relaxed Cobb, despite not knowing he was beginning to tense.

“I’m not a flower. I’ve done this before, you won’t break me. You can hurry up.” Cobb said, only partially meaning it. He might break if Mayfeld didn’t hurry up. His dick ached with need, begging to be touched. Cobb had never been patient with anything, and this was no exception.

“Ok, ok. No love making. You want me to fuck you into this mattress, quick and rough. You got it.” Mayfeld said, adding a second finger after a few more thrusts.

Cobb groaned in response at both the weight of Mayfeld’s words accompanied by the sudden stretch of two fingers. But god, was he right. The urge to be split in half overwhelmed him. Cobb blamed it on the fact that he hadn’t been laid in a long, long time. He was sure it had nothing to do with just how expertly Mayfeld seemed to be touching him.

The third and eventually fourth finger had Cobb’s toes curling. He moaned and gasped and tried his best not to squirm in place. But his cock was throbbing, begging to be touched, and every time he tried, Mayfeld swatted his hand out of the way.

“For fucks sake. Just fuck me already.” Cobb broke sooner than he’d like. Still, the slight bitter edge in his voice made it seem more acceptable in his mind. He couldn’t bring himself to beg, and thankfully Mayfeld didn’t make him. The sound of a condom opening and being rolled on was music to his ears. Mayfeld slicked himself up with lube, then the head of his dick was pressing into Cobb.

It was an eternity of pleasure and pain until Mayfeld bottomed out. There was no adjustment period and for that Cobb was grateful. He wasn’t sure when this had become something so rough and dirty, but it was like a dam had broken. Cobb moaned, fisting his hands into the sheet to hold on for dear life. Mayfeld hadn’t been kidding when he said he would fuck Cobb into the mattress. Hard, rough, deep thrusts had Cobb more vocal than he’d been in years. Funnily enough, on the flip side, Mayfeld barely made any noises at all. There was a moan here and there, but nothing too prominent. It was a stark contrast to all the noise the man normally made.

The dull burn gave way to full pleasure and Cobb finally brought a hand up to stroke himself. Thankfully Mayfeld seemed too preoccupied to swat his hand away again. He tried timing his strokes to Mayfeld’s, but he was having a hard time keeping rhythm. His toes curled, his heart hammered in his chest, a slow heat pooled in the base of his stomach. Then, Mayfeld switched up the angle slightly and Cobb saw stars.

His prostate had always been top tier on the body parts list in Cobb’s mind. It could do amazing things in the right hands… or on the right cock. And Mayfeld was definitely the right cock. He slammed into it repeatedly, and for a moment Cobb had a rough time catching his breath. It felt good to the point of being too much. He gasped, unable to keep up with stroking himself, but it hardly mattered. Cobb’s orgasm was ripped from him anyways, so strong that everything went dark for a few seconds. White streaks shot across the bed, and while it didn’t matter how, he was sure he’d be upset for doing this in his own bed and not Mayfeld’s once his head began to clear.

Mayfeld’s thrusts became overwhelming quickly, but the sloppy pace made it clear he wouldn’t last much longer. Cobb squirmed from the feeling, moaning in a pitch that was just a little too high. Hands gripped his ass roughly and he wondered if it would bruise or not… It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Then, Mayfeld was cumming with a loud groan.

For a moment neither of them did anything. Cobb buried his face in his arm, trying to steady his breathing. His body was still in that post orgasmic bliss stage, though he knew it wouldn’t last forever. It never did. Sooner or later he’d have to face the consequences of his actions. Or the consequences would face him, specifically in the form of a slap to his left ass cheek. Cobb jumped, then glared over his shoulder. Mayfeld grinned at him, all flushed in the face.

“Hey.” Cobb protested.

“Hey, what?” Mayfeld asked, slowly pulling out. Cobb winced at the feeling. Empty, sticky, and dripping lube. He crawled off the bed and hobbled to the bathroom. Thankfully Mayfeld didn’t follow. He needed a minute to clean up before he yelled at the man.

“Don’t slap my ass.” He told him.

“Then don’t have such a slappable ass.” Was the reply he got. Even a room away he could practically hear the smirk on Mayfeld’s face. Cobb leaned out the bathroom doorway to glare at him.

Mayfeld leaned against the headboard, avoiding the sticky mess in the middle of the bed. He looked relaxed, though slightly flushed. Red tinged his skin from his face all the way down his chest. Cobb avoided looking down any further, as silly as it sounded in his own head. He may have just had that cock up his ass, but looking now seemed… Perverted? Voyeuristic? He wasn’t sure, but it felt wrong in some way or form. Better to avoid it all together for the time being.

Cobb just rolled his eyes and headed back in the bathroom to look for something to clean up with. He grabbed a towel off the rack for himself, then a smaller face cloth for Mayfeld. Cobb ran it under warm water, rung it out a little, then tossed it out the door at Mayfeld. He had always been a good shot, but even blissfully distracted, Mayfeld was a good catch. The man snatched it from the air without hesitation before looking to see what it actually was.

“I’m taking a shower. You clean up.” Cobb told him.

“Without me?” Mayfeld dramatically pouted. Cobb mimicked the carefree smile he had seen on the other man’s face minutes before.

“Don’t slap my ass next time and maybe I will.” And with that he closed the door, giving himself a few moments of peace to think about what a big mistake he had made.

Chapter Text

“Vanth.” The cold voice made him shiver. Din leaned against Cobb’s car, folding his arms across his chest like he owned the damn thing. Cobb raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t comment on it.

“Oh what, no hi for me?” Mayfeld said and Cobb rolled his eyes. He had been hoping the two of them could act like adults for the time being. Clearly that had been wishful thinking.

Din ignored the comment. His head sat forward, staring at Cobb, but the dark glasses made it impossible to tell where his eyes were actually looking.

Cobb decided to ignore it as well. He’d have to get Mayfeld to agree to stop antagonizing Din later. For now, he’d play nice to make up for it. “Howdy, Partner.”

“Hey! I thought I was your partner.” Mayfeld protested with mock hurt on his face. This time Cobb was sure Din was looking at him with distaste from behind his glasses.

“We’re not partners.” Din told him firmly. Cobb rolled his eyes.

“Alright, alright. None of us want to do this. But we’re here, so we’ll just have to suck it up, deal with it, and behave.” Cobb threw the last word at Mayfeld, pointing an accusing finger at him. From the corner of his eye he could have sworn he saw the barest hint of a smirk on Din’s lips. A tiny crooked thing nestled under a neatly trimmed mustache. But, by the time he looked it was gone.

“Behave? What am I, a child?” Mayfeld knitted his eyebrows together.

“You sure do seem to act like one.” Cobb told him truthfully. Mayfeld had a habit of being loud and annoying, two things he heavily associated with children.

“Oh yeah? Well I guess that makes you a-”

“Enough!” Cobb cut him off, worried about what he might say. Something that outed him for fucking a man in his custody no doubt. And while Din couldn’t exactly do anything about it, he most likely knew people who could. Cobb had managed to keep himself out of trouble his whole career, he wasn’t about to change that now. “We’re here to work. The sooner I get what I want the sooner you’re free to go.”

They stared at each other for a moment, Cobb willing his reluctant companion to stay silent just for once. Mayfeld sized him up, contemplating the risk versus the reward. Thankfully he took a step back and put his hand up in a placating manner. Cobb’s shoulders relaxed on their own and he wasn’t even sure when he had tensed up so much. If he wasn’t careful he’d do something stupid like ask for another massage later. It was a shame really, because as much as he knew what he did was wrong, Cobb had woken up feeling better than he had in a long time.

“Anyways, what did you find?” He turned his attention to Din, who still stood motionless in the same spot. He was stiff and hard to read. It was unnerving. One of Cobb’s best assets was being able to read people. Din made that nearly impossible by hiding his eyes.

“I’m not sure. I’ve got a lead getting back to me soon hopefully.” The words were barely out of the Bounty Hunter’s mouth before his cellphone began to ring. He nodded to himself, then answered. A few curt words later and he was hanging up the phone. It made Cobb wonder if Din ever talked more than three or four words at a time. Surely at home or with his friends he was chatty… Or maybe not. At the very least Din’s lack of talking would balance out Mayfeld’s incessant chatter. Hopefully. “Alright. Let’s go.”

“Where?” Mayfeld asked.

Thick eyebrows furrowed behind tinted sunglasses. But to Cobb’s surprise the man actually answered. “About thirty minutes out. A guy I know says he has some information for me.”

“And he couldn’t tell you over the phone?”

“That wasn’t him. It’s complicated.” Din folded his arms across his chest once more. “I’ll explain when we get there.”

The Bounty Hunter propelled himself effortlessly off of Cobb’s car and toward his Motorcycle with a simple ‘follow me’ nod of his head. Cobb had a million questions, but decided to simply follow instead. Din had been extremely reluctant to work with him on this, in fact he wasn’t entirely sure the man would actually show up. But here he was with a lead and the last thing Cobb wanted to do was to scare him off. Or more likely piss him off to the point of leaving. He sighed and got in his car. Mayfeld followed, climbing into the passenger seat with ease.

“Is he always like that?” Cobb asked as he threw his car in reverse.

“Brooding and handsome? Yeah.” Mayfeld sighed.

“I was going to say standoffish.” Cobb shook his head but didn’t disagree. Din was attractive. Messy brown hair, a broad nose, a just slightly too tight shirt that showed off muscular arms. He checked off nearly all off Cobb’s boxes. It was another distraction he didn’t need.

“Oh that? Yeah. Didn’t spend much time around him, but he’s always been a little on the rough side. In fact, I’d say he’s in a real good mood by comparison.” Mayfeld shook his head. Cobb sighed.

Following Din was a chore. His bike was sleek and fast and he knew how to use that to his advantage. He wove in and out of lanes, passing people with ease while Cobb struggled to keep up. After nearly losing him twice Cobb considered turning on his siren. Maybe he’d do it to get people out of his way. Maybe he’d just do it to pull Din over for speeding and being a dick of a leader. But, then they were pulling off the highway and it was easier to keep sight of the clunky silver bike. Still, by the time they pulled into a shitty little parking lot by an abandoned building Cobb was ready to ban the motorcycle all together and just have Din ride in the back seat. Or Mayfeld. Maybe that way he wouldn’t have to hear the man’s voice every five seconds. Though he knew that wasn’t true. Cobb was sure Mayfeld could strike up a conversation in an empty room. All throwing him in the back would accomplish is getting a backseat driver.

Cobb pulled up next to Din, throwing it in park. He made a move to get out, but then Din was there at his window, waiting. It was all he could do not to roll his eyes as he rolled the window down. “Whoever gave you a license should be fired.”

“I’m just surprised you could keep up.” The bounty hunter said. For once his stance seemed lighter. Cobb stared at him for a moment before deciding the man must be joking around. Against his better judgement he decided to go with it.

“I can keep up with you all night.” Cobb smiled, watching Din’s face falter.

Before he could gauge the man’s reaction anymore, a figure appeared in front of Cobb’s car. He had been so preoccupied that he didn’t even notice the man approach. Or, he thought it was a man. The robes and head wrap made it difficult to tell. Din turned and gave the figure a small wave which was promptly returned, then followed by a few rapid gestures that Cobb didn't understand. It wasn’t until Din returned a few more hand movements that Cobb realized they were signing to each other. At least that explained why the man wouldn’t speak over the phone. But, it did nothing to help Cobb understand what the hell was going on.

Chapter Text

“What’s he saying?” Cobb asked after a few moments. Beyond ‘hello my name is Cobb’ and spelling things out, he was at a loss. Sign language had always sort of interested him, but there was never time to learn. Besides, who would he sign to? He didn’t know any deaf people.

“That Ran didn’t make it too far.” Din told him, never taking his eyes off the funnily dressed man. The more Cobb looked at him, the more his clothes seemed to resemble some sort of Burqa. But not quite. The face was wrong, the dress was wrong. Still, he didn’t have a better way of describing it. Plus he was almost certain that it was a man wearing it, not a woman.

“Does he know where Ran is?” For the first time that day Cobb felt hopeful. The closest lead he had to getting to The Client had slipped from his fingers in a flash without a trace because of Din, and here he was finding him with ease. It was a nice change of pace for once.

“He said he can show us the way.” Din nodded, looking pleased. Cobb was pleased, too. That is until they were all piling into his car.

The ride was awkward. Cobb and Mayfeld sat up front as usual. Din sat in the back with the deaf guy, who he’d never formally introduced with a name. Every so often the man would sign and Din would translate. Left, right, this exit, over there. The drive had been farther than expected, and pulling up to the shabby little house, Cobb began suspecting this was a set up. But Din trusted his informant and Cobb had to trust Din. There was no way to move forward otherwise. Not one that he could think of, at least.

After doing some quick surveillance they dropped the man off at a nearby park. Din handed him a wad of cash and a small pack he’d been carrying all morning. Cobb watched him wander off, pulling a sandwich from the bag and digging in immediately.

“Why the park?” He asked once Din was safely back in the car.

“Nowhere else to go.” Din said. “He’s homeless.”

Oh. He should have guessed. It seemed so obvious now. Had he known that Cobb would have given him some money, too. Or more food. Something, anything to help. But the man must have been fine with the arrangement he and Din had, because there had been no complaints and no hesitations.

The ride back to Ran’s place was a lot more quiet than he expected it to be. Mayfeld, for once, was silent. It was unnerving to the point that Cobb almost wanted to fill that silence with his own voice. But he had nothing to say. Nothing appropriate, at least. ‘Din you’re smoking hot.’ ‘Mayfeld I’m so anxious, I’m seriously considering letting you blow me to help with the nerves.’ So he said nothing, just turned the radio on, smirking to himself when Mayfeld glared his way the moment the country music started playing.

“Really?” Mayfeld groaned.

“My car, my music.” Cobb nodded. For once it was a song he knew. He hummed along softly, surprised that Mayfeld didn’t complain about that, too. Cobb ignored the two sets of eyes on him.

Again, pulling up to the house Cobb thought it was a set up, though he didn’t know why. It just seemed too easy. Could a criminal on the run be hiding in a shitty little abandoned house? Absolutely. Could this be a quick and easy arrest? Maybe. Had it been anyone other than Cobb himself he wouldn’t be so hesitant. But, things rarely went smooth for him, and now he had two others added to the mix. He needed to make sure Din stayed out of his way. But, more importantly he needed to make sure Mayfeld stayed safe. It was part sentiment, part his job. Mayfeld was still under his custody and if anything went wrong it was on Cobb. That wasn’t a risk he wanted to take. Especially since he’d been taking risks and breaking rules for the man already. He turned to Mayfeld, thinking of the best way to phrase it without offending him.

“He’s staying here.” Din broke the silence.

“Like hell I am.” Mayfeld said, turning his body to face the man in the back seat.

“You’re a liability.” Din told him, mirroring Cobb’s thoughts.

“I am not!” Mayfeld turned to Cobb for backup. Cobb avoided his gaze. “Oh so it was fine to use me when you needed me, but now that you got him I’m a liability. I get it.”

“If you die I lose my job” Cobb told him. He’d probably also lose his ability to sleep peacefully at night, but left that particular detail out. Besides, he had needed Mayfeld before as a way to Ran. Now Ran knew Mayfeld had led Cobb straight to him… He’d be in more danger facing the man this time than he had been before.

“Then don’t let me die” Mayfeld said as he got out of the car and headed for the house before anyone could protest further. Cobb sighed and followed him, drawing his gun as a precaution. He could practically feel the anger seeping out of Din. But what was he supposed to do, cuff Cobb to the car and force him to stay? Bad idea for many reasons.

Din shot him a glare, but said nothing as he branched off and snuck around back. Mayfeld approached the front door. Thankfully he waited for Cobb to catch up rather than just barging in to his death.

“Stay behind me, at least.” Cobb whispered to him.

“Wouldn’t be a problem if you gave me a gun.” Mayfeld whispered back. Cobb rolled his eyes. Thankfully Mayfeld did as he was told, though he still seemed bitter about it.

Cobb reached for the doorknob, uneasy feeling growing when he found it unlocked. The door opened with a low creak and Cobb internally sighed. So much for the element of surprise. Anyone inside would have heard the sound. He counted to three and stepped inside.

The inside of the house was just as dilapidated as the outside. Worn, rundown, covered in filth and trash with no signs that anyone had been there anytime recently. Cobb’s eyes swept the living room, looking for the back door. It wasn’t in sight and neither was Din. Din, who had led them here with his trusted homeless informant. Cobb hated the distrust that flowed through his veins, but how could he think anything else? Sure, the plan had been elaborate, but maybe Din was just that money hungry. Or conceited, thinking he didn’t need help with a take down.

Cobb walked further inside, intending to clear the house before he fully jumped to any conclusions about the bounty hunter. The living room split into a hallway that ran both ways along the house. He peeked his head through, sweeping both sides. Empty. But there were plenty of rooms to check. Surprisingly many considering how small this house had seemed from the outside. Cobb went left, Mayfeld right behind him. It was the preferable option considering the man had no way to defend himself.

Just as he approached the first door he heard an all too familiar click of a gun barrel behind him. Cobb turned, gun up, expecting the worst. Mayfeld grimaced back at him, hands up in a placating manner. Behind him stood Ran, gun to the man’s head. Cobb cursed. This was exactly what he’d been worried about.

“Drop it.” He warned, gun still trained on Ran. It was an empty threat. No way he had a clear shot with Mayfeld being used as a human shield. Ran seemed to know that, too.

“We both know that’s not going to happen.” Ran told him, gripping the back of Mayfeld’s shirt with his free hand.

“Hey, watch it.” Mayfeld protested. Even with his life on the line the man just couldn’t stay quiet.

“Shut it, Rat.” Ran said, pushing the gun roughly into the side of his head. Cobb had been right to assume he’d be pissed at the betrayal. He needed to deescalate the situation fast.

“Come on, don’t be like that. You think I want to be here?” Mayfeld asked. He had a point, though Cobb wished he’d shut up for once. The last thing he needed was for them to join forces against him. At least this way he stood a chance. He wasn’t sure how, but he was sure something would tip the scales.

As if on cue the door at the far end of the hall opened slowly and silently. It was out of Ran’s line of sight, but Cobb could see perfectly fine. He watched Din quickly assess the situation and pulled out his own weapon. The last thing Cobb wanted was for this to turn into a shoot out, so he kept his attention focused on Ran, hoping Din stayed unnoticed until he was close enough to help. Slowly the man began his approach on soft, silent feet, avoiding all the trash and holes in the flooring.

“He’s right. Just let him go and we can work something out.” Cobb offered. It was a lie and Ran knew it. Even if Din hadn’t been there for the Bounty, no way Cobb was willing to let Ran go. His list of crimes had been far worse than Mayfeld’s checkered past.

“Don’t make me laugh! Here’s how this is going to go. Drop the gun and I might just let you live. Mayfeld’s coming with me one way or another, don’t put your life on the line for him.” Ran said, taking a step backward. A step closer to Din, who had closed the distance between them now.

Cobb locked eyes with Din, or at least he hoped he had. It was hard to tell behind those dark glasses. Din nodded and Cobb pounced. In one fluid motion Cobb had Mayfeld pulled out of the way and pinned against the wall just as Din launched himself onto Ran, knocking him out of the way. Someone’s gun went off, and Cobb’s eyes flew around wildly for blood. Neither Ran nor Din seemed to be bleeding, though they were wrestling for control on the ground. The fight was short lived as Din bashed the hilt of his pistol down onto Ran’s forehead. The man went limp, and Cobb relaxed. Not dead, just knocked out. That made things easier. He turned to Mayfeld to say something and saw red. A blossom of blood spreading across his shirt. The stunned man in question didn’t seem to notice it until then either. Cobb’s stomach dropped. The bullet that went off had hit Mayfeld.

Chapter Text

“You shot me!” Mayfeld’s voice was a few pitches too high. He pawed at his arm where the blood seemed to originate. His hand came back red. Mayfeld held his palm out to Din first, then to Cobb, as if it could be missed.

Din stared back for a moment, having the decency to seem surprised. Then, he was on his feet, rushing to Mayfeld’s side to inspect the wound. Cobb took a few steps back, ignoring the mild woozy feeling welling up inside him. He’d never been a fan of blood, but he was usually fine around it. He figured it had to be the fact that Mayfeld could have died after Cobb specifically asked him to stay in the goddamn car mixed with the sheer amount of blood soaking into the man’s shirt, spreading down and around his heart. Initially Cobb had thought the bullet caught the man in the chest. Thankfully it had just hit his arm.

“I told you to wait in the car.” Din said as he carefully inspected the wound. Din pulled the shirt sleeve up, eyeing Mayfeld’s arm without a care in the world about the blood coating his bare hands. “It’s just a knick.”

“First you punch me, then you shoot me!” Mayfeld’s voice was still high. He seemed pissed. Rightfully so. Being shot hurt, even if it just grazed the skin. “What’s next? Laugh as you watch me bleed out?”

“You’re not going to bleed out.” Din sounded sure of the fact, yet he was still carefully holding Mayfeld’s arm as if he didn’t quite believe it. “It’s just a graze, but you might need stitches.”

“Oh and what makes you an expert?” Din ignored the question. “Hey! Stop squeezing, that hurts.”

“You’re not going to bleed out.” Din said again, this time much softer, as if to himself. Then he surprised both of them by taking off his t-shirt.

Cobb watched on flabbergasted, unable to tear his eyes away. He wasn’t sure if it was fortunate or not that Din was wearing a tank top as well. On one hand, he wouldn’t mind seeing exactly what Din had to offer. On the other, that tank top was so skin tight that Cobb had a pretty good idea what was underneath anyway. Muscle. Soft skin. An unsuspected tattoo on Din’s bicep that suddenly had him wondering if there were more elsewhere. Cobb stared like a fool. Thankfully Mayfeld did as well. The anger on his face was gone in an instant, seeping from his body as Din wrapped his shirt around the gunshot wound to stop the blood. He pulled it tight, tying it in place.

For a quick eternity no one said anything. Mayfeld and Cobb stared at the man before them, taking in every inch of skin that they could. After a moment Din seemed to notice. He glanced up at Mayfeld, then to Cobb. Maybe Cobb was being hopeful, but he could have sworn Din was blushing now.

A soft groan from the passed out man on the floor snapped them all out of… whatever that had been. Cobb frowned at the man. He wasn’t sure how long Ran would be out for, but he didn’t particularly feel like hauling his fat ass out to the car. He also didn’t want to stay in that ratty little building.

“I have, uh, a first aid kid in the trunk.” Cobb told no one in particular. It was standard issue, though he’d rarely used it. In fact it had been so long that he figured things must be expired by now. He preferred to use the smaller version that he carried around in his traveling bag. It had a lot less, but was more customized to what he needed from time to time. The big one should have something a little more suited to Mayfeld’s needs. He handed the keys to Din, silently asking him to deal with it. Thankfully he grabbed them and headed for the door. Mayfeld followed.

Cobb pulled out his cuffs, using them to secure Ran’s unconscious body to the radiator. He pulled and tugged with all his weight several times. The radiator didn’t budge. Once he was satisfied Ran wouldn’t be able to escape, he followed the duo outside.

The unlikely pair sat on the hood of his car side by side with the massive first aid kit open. It seemed rummaged through, but at least it gave Cobb an excuse to finally clean it out and replace whatever had become worn with time. Mayfeld’s bloody sleeve was rolled up, showing off his pale arm. Din pierced his flesh with a needle, and Cobb hadn’t remembered anything like that being in the first aid kit. He wondered if he was misremembering, or if it’s something Din carried around at all times.

Cobb watched them from a distance, unwilling to go out of earshot in case Ran woke up. But even from that distance he could tell Din had done this before. His motions were swift and practiced. Cobb wondered if that was due to always getting injured on the job or from his time living in a supposed cult. Neither option sat right with him. Still, he was thankful for the skill. He wouldn’t have been able to stitch Mayfeld’s arm up at all. The man would simply have had to deal with it until they got to a hospital. Which would have complicated things further.

Perhaps Mayfeld knew that as well, because for once he was being compliant. Or maybe it was the fact that Din had him pulled extra close to administer the sutures, with the wounded arm practically across the man’s lap. Cobb could almost imagine how warm Din’s skin would feel on his own. He didn’t quite envy Mayfeld in the moment, but there were far worse places to be. Then, Din surprised them again by removing his sunglasses. He could practically see Mayfeld’s jaw drop to the floor. Cobb felt the same way. Even from the distance he could tell Din had warm brown eyes, which hardly surprised him at all.

Blue eyes could be brilliant, of course, but there was something alluring about brown eyes. The way the sun reflected all the hues and shades you hadn’t seen before. All brown eyes were different and he had the urge to see Din’s up close and personal. Instead he looked away, feeling like an intruder on a private moment. Which was ridiculous. There shouldn’t be anything voyeuristic about watching someone take off their sunglasses. Cobb was thankful when he heard the sounds of handcuffs rattling from within the house. It was time to get some much needed information.

Chapter Text

Getting Ran to talk proved more difficult than expected. It didn’t matter how much Cobb asked, lied, or gently persuaded. He promised to let Ran go, an obvious lie with a Bounty Hunter prowling the halls. Threats were empty, of course. Legally Cobb shouldn’t put his hands on the man, but at some point he was seriously considering it. Ran kept spitting, cursing, and doing everything in his power to be a nuisance. Mayfeld was bickering with Din. Daylight was wasting away. Cobb had run into a wall on his last lead and was at his wits end.

It wasn’t until he took a break that things actually seemed to take off. He stepped outside, angrily scrubbing at his face. Cobb took a deep breath, counting to four, held it for four seconds, then exhaled and counted to four again. Nice deep relaxing breathing. All he needed to do was calm down a little, then he’d go back in and try again. Everyone had motivation to talk, Cobb just needed to find it. Or else this was a waste of years worth of work. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. A scream tore him from the sliver of relaxation he had been trying for. He was already running back for the house, every terrible scenario running through his mind, when he saw Din standing in the doorway. His arms were crossed over his chest, making himself seem bigger, sturdier. Clearly he was trying to block Cobb from entering the house again. But why? Another scream followed by a grunt.

“What’s going on?” Cobb asked, though he had a pretty good idea. If Din was here with him that only left Mayfeld and Ran inside. Assuming Din was a rational human being that wouldn’t let his Bounty escape, that meant Ran was still cuffed to the radiator. Which meant Mayfeld was doing the hurting.

“Better you don’t ask questions.” Din told him, moving slightly to the left when Cobb tried to pass him. “Listen, you tried already. Let Mayfeld give it a go.”

“That’s illegal.” Cobb told him, as if Din wasn’t fully aware.

“Illegal for you to do that. Me too, most places. But you and I aren’t here right now.”

It made sense. It was still wrong. Cobb should put a stop to it. If Ran wanted to press charges on Mayfeld he could. If he wanted to try to get Din and Cobb in trouble as well, he just might have a case.

“Look, you can take off if you want. Ran doesn’t even know who you are. I’ll take the fall if there is any. You have my word I’ll still split the money.” Din told him, voice tinged with sympathy. It surprised Cobb. Even more of a surprise was the mention of the reward.

“I’m not in it for the money.” Cobb told him. Sure, he wasn’t rich. But he didn’t do this job for the pay. He did it to make a difference. “All I want is information.”

“So let Mayfeld get it for you.”

That made sense. Cobb sighed, feeling himself deflate. It wasn’t until then that he realized they were close. He’d been so intent on getting back inside that they were practically touching now. And Din was still in that black tank top that clung to his body like a sin. Cobb took a step back, then another when he found his eyes wandering over the man’s perfect body.

“So, um.” Cobb cleared his throat, doing his best to ignore the occasional sounds of punching and groaning from deep within the house. “Bounty Hunter, huh? What made you pick that?”

It was a stupid question, but Cobb couldn’t think of anything else. It was the only thing he knew about Din. Well that and the fact that he had a tattoo of what clearly wasn’t a rhino on his bicep. He figured this would be the least offensive out of the two.

“The money.” Din shrugged. An honest answer. Cobb liked that. Transparency was a quality he appreciated more and more the older he got. “What about you?”

“The glory.” It had been a joke. Thankfully Din laughed. They both knew there was no glory in what Cobb did. “Guess I just wanted to make a difference. Keep the bad guys off the streets.”

Din gave him a look. A look that said ‘you’re working with a felon right now.’ And he was right. Mayfeld was an ex con. Emphasis on the ex, ignoring the assault happening just out of eyesight. Cobb was a firm believer that people could change and that not all criminals were bad people. Not that he’d voice that, it could get him fired and put under investigation.

“Mayfeld’s harmless.” Cobb said, ignoring the yelling from within the house. Ran and Mayfeld were at least talking now, that was progress. “He’s been really helpful and he’s been keeping himself out of trouble. Got a whole new life. Course’ I arrested him in front of the entire neighborhood, so he’s probably in need of a new identity.”

He hadn’t thought of that before. Now he felt guilty. Especially since he was no longer in need of Mayfeld’s services after this. They’d had a deal. Help find Ran, go free. Well, now Cobb had Ran. He didn’t want to think about it further.

“You from around here?” He asked, changing the subject.

“No. Grew up on the road. Guess I never really settled. I haven’t been in this general vicinity for a long time, though. We’re more North now.” Din told him. They’d moved onto the porch, leaning on the dilapidated railing. It didn’t look like it should hold their weight, but it hadn’t broken yet.

“We?” Cobb stayed neutral. A wife. A girlfriend. A guy? He was having a hard time getting a read on Din. He didn’t know if the man was gay or if he just really wanted the man to be gay.

“Extended family.” Din shrugged. So no romantic relationship. Cobb knew he shouldn’t get too excited. He was on the verge of a career-making arrest. Plus, even if he could tie himself down, who’s to say Din would even be interested? “Where are you from?”

“I’m on the road a lot for work but, I’m Texas born and raised. ” Cobb said. Then, taking a chance he added, “Can show you around sometime if you want.”

Before Din could answer, Mayfeld appeared in the doorway. His knuckles were covered in blood, though this time it didn’t seem to be his own. He nodded to Din, then turned to Cobb. “Got your location. I’ll take your thanks in the form of a blowjob.”

Chapter Text

The ride to the police station wasn’t as uncomfortable as he expected it to be. Mainly because Din had the foresight to gag Ran. Though there was an uncomfortable moment when Cobb swerved into the other lane because he caught sight of Din’s muscles in the rear view mirror and looked just a little too long. Thankfully he hadn’t hit anyone, and no one even noticed what he’d been distracted by. Except for Mayfeld, who gave him a knowing look and called him a perv. Cobb would argue that Mayfeld liked looking just as much, but he didn’t particularly want to have that conversation in front of Din himself.

“You know if you leave us your keys we can have your motorcycle waiting here for you when you get out.” Mayfeld told Din as Cobb pulled into the police station. Din looked at him incredulously. “Oh don’t give me that look. I was drunk, I wouldn’t crash your bike twice!”

It didn’t sound convincing. To avoid having to do it himself, therefore letting Mayfeld drive Cobb’s government issued car, he lied and said he’d never driven a motorcycle before. Which settled the fact that they would be waiting in the car for Din to drop off Ran. Of course he didn’t have to, but the polite thing would be to drive him back to his bike. Cobb was nothing if not polite.

“How’s your arm?” Cobb asked once they were alone. If there wasn’t such a large bandage covering it, he’d be taking it into his hands to see the damage for himself.

“Hurts like a bitch.” Mayfeld said. “Can’t believe that asshole shot me.”

“You crashed his bike.” Cobb reminded him.

“That was almost a decade ago.” He rolled his eyes. “And it was an accident!”

“No one accidentally drinks and drives.” Cobb told him. That was something he was firm on. It’s something that killed people, whether they were the ones who had made the choice to get behind the wheel or not. “And if it was my motorcycle, I might have shot you twice.”

Mayfeld laughed. “Spiteful. I like it. At least Din is sticking to his story that it was an accident. Said Ran bumped his hand, finger was on the trigger, you know. Very convincing, but maybe he just took the opportunity to get payback.”

This time Cobb laughed. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Din didn’t seem like a cruel and spiteful person. An accident seemed more likely. But, you never know.

Cobb took in Mayfeld’s appearance, trying his best to memorize it. It probably wasn’t a good idea to stay in contact after they parted ways. It was a shame there was so much blood, it had the potential to taint every fantasy he knew he’d have for a long time to come. His shirt was thoroughly ruined. Blood had dried to his arm and hand. Cobb still had to swing by the motel to check out, since he hadn’t been sure how long they’d be there for. Convincing Mayfeld to hop in the shower with him should be easy enough. They could have one last fling before they parted ways forever. Bittersweet. He didn’t know if he should mention it now or later. Then, Mayfeld was smiling at him, launching into a whole conversation and Cobb decided to wait.

They talked. It was nice. Mayfeld seemed genuinely happy that Cobb was having an actual conversation instead of just ignoring him. He figured it would probably be the last chance to get to know the excon, so why not. Though the more Mayfeld talked, the more he seemed like just a regular guy than someone who should be arrested. Funny how things worked that way. But, too soon Din was exiting the police station and Cobb knew his moment with Mayfeld was up.

They drove in silence the entire way back to Din’s motorcycle, which was thankfully still in one piece just where they left it. He wasn’t sure if he should say bye or not. He should definitely thank the man. Din exited the car, moving to stand in front of the driver's side door. Cobb rolled down the window, ready to thank him and part ways for good.

“You’re going after Werner Herzog?” Din asked instead. Of course he’d heard the man’s name from Ran and Mayfeld. He knew where the Client was now, too. As far as Cobb knew there wasn’t an actual bounty out for the man. Things had progressed past that a long time ago. So what could Din possibly want?

“Been chasing him a long time.” Cobb said. Far too long, but there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel.

“I want in.” Din told him, surprising both Cobb and Mayfeld, who instantly bristled at his side.

“Of course.” Mayfeld scoffed. “You need the money that bad or you just can’t bear to part with my beautiful face?”

Din ignored him, still looking at Cobb. Or at least that’s what Cobb had assumed, the glasses made it impossible to tell. “My clan has had… issues with him in the past. It would be beneficial to both of us if he was locked up.”

“You’re part of the Klan and you’re calling ME the skinhead?” Mayfeld sounded incredulous. Cobb rolled his eyes.

“Not that kind of Clan.” Din said. This time Cobb knew for a fact the man was looking directly at him because his face practically screamed ‘can you believe this guy?’ Unfortunately, Cobb could. Clan wasn’t a word most people would use. “Clan as in family.”

He said Family like it wasn’t the word he had been looking for. And if Din didn’t know what word he wanted then Cobb certainly couldn’t help him. Still, he knew families could be complicated, so he didn’t question it. It would have been useless anyway considering he wouldn’t have been heard over the bickering of his two companions, who’s new topic was semantics. Cobb did his best to ignore them, but he could still hear valid arguments from both sides. Eventually he had enough.

“Fine, you’re in.” Cobb said loudly, cutting both of them off.

“For fucks sake!” Mayfeld complained, which was to be expected. Cobb would deal with it later. Din nodded, offering to meet back up with them in a few hours after he took care of some business. The bounty Hunter didn’t offer any explanation and Cobb didn’t ask. He was just grateful to have the extra help. Cobb turned to Mayfeld, who now had a tint of red to his cheeks.

“You’re unfucking believable, you know that?”

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe you’re going to make me work with that asshole!” Mayfeld all but exploded the second they stepped into the motel room. The ride there had been silent, Mayfeld seething and Cobb refusing to acknowledge it. He wasn’t unreasonable, they could talk it out. But, not while he was driving. For selfish reasons, of course. Cobb was about to offer Mayfeld his freedom and wanted to hold onto him just a little bit longer. Call him selfish, he didn’t care.

“I think you two just need to kiss and make up.” Cobb told him. Mayfeld rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, I could really use his help.”

“What, I’m not good enough?” Mayfeld asked, gesturing wildly to himself.

Cobb could argue several ways. Mayfeld was a criminal. A liability. A distraction. Plus Din had more experience tracking down people than Mayfeld ever would. But, what it really boiled down to was Cobb’s word. Help for freedom. And Mayfeld had upheld his end of the bargain.

“He’s a professional.” Cobb told him.

“Oh, what, and I’m just criminal scum?” Mayfeld asked and Cobb couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “So I’m good enough for sex but not fighting crime?”

“You are the crime” Cobb deadpanned. The willingness to jump right back in and torture some information out of someone hadn’t gone over his head. Granted, it was the only reason they had the information they did, but still. It had been illegal.

“Unbelievable.” Mayfeld looked pissed, but not hurt by the words.

“We had a deal. You got me Ran, I got the only solid lead I’ve had in years. You’re free to go.” He shrugged as he said it, doing his best to feign nonchalance.

Mayfeld’s frown deepened. “Just like that?”

“A deal’s a deal. I’m a man of my word.” To the best of his ability at least. He still could use an extra set of hands, and if that was going to be Din then Mayfeld should leave before he got hurt yet again.

“Oh.” Mayfeld said, more surprised than he had any right sounding. “Well what about the blowjob. You never followed through on that one.”

“That was all you. I never agreed to that.” Cobb reminded him. He was still going to follow through with the request, but the back and forth was nice.

“So no head?” Mayfeld said, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I never said that.” Cobb told him taking a step forward.

“Wait, really? Now?” In an instant the frown was gone. He knew they would have to circle back to the whole ‘you’re free to go’ conversation, but for now Cobb was about to fraternize with someone no longer in his custody. It had him feeling a certain way.

“Shower first. You look like a walking biohazard.” Cobb nodded toward the man’s bloodied shirt.

“Fuck yeah.” Then, almost as an afterthought, “I’m clean by the way. FYI.”

Cobb wasn’t sure what to say. Me too? Thank god? No offense but I would still need to see it on paper before we get rid of the condom? Before he could settle on something Mayfeld was grabbing him by the hand and pulling him into the bathroom. “Come on, you can wash my hair for me.”

Cobb couldn’t help but laugh at the other man’s bald head. It was that stupid sense of humor that had Cobb making stupid choices.

Mayfeld’s bloodied shirt was off and in the tiny bathroom trash within seconds. Cobb knew he’d have to take it and dispose of it elsewhere before an unsuspecting maid found it and called the cops. His eyes trailed over the man’s bandaged arm. A tiny amount of blood seeped through the white cloth staining it red. He grabbed Mayfeld’s arm and unwrapped the bandage. Beneath was a neat row of perfectly placed stitches. They looked so professional that had he not seen them being placed he would have assumed they’d been done at a hospital.

“How’s it look, Doc?” Mayfeld asked yet again. This time Cobb had no doubts.

“Like it will definitely scar.” At least it was fairly small, and Din’s sutures should make it heal uniformly.

“Fantastic. Another souvenir.” He flexed his arm, eyebrows twitching in discomfort. “At least it helps with the whole tough guy act I got going on.”

Cobb chuckled, but said nothing. He took a moment to really look over Mayfeld’s body. Their first liaison hadn’t really permitted this kind of exploration. Soft, creamy white skin, marked with the occasional scar. Shoulders littered with a heavy splatter of freckles. A thin dusting of red hairs across a soft belly. Cobb wanted to kiss and touch and lick and bite.

Instead he stripped off his own clothes before turning the shower on. Eyes bore into his back. Or probably more accurately his ass. Cobb pretended to fiddle with the shower dials for a moment longer than necessary just to let Mayfeld enjoy the view. When he finally turned back around the man was still standing there, half dressed and staring.

“My eyes are up here.” He said, placing his hands on his hips. Nudity had rarely ever bothered him before, and he refused to be ashamed now. Not when Mayfeld was looking at him like he wanted to devour him whole.

“Uh huh. That waters still looking a little cold, you sure you don’t want to turn back around and adjust it some more?”

“If you wanted to look at my ass all you had to do was say so.” Cobb said as if it wasn’t clear as day.

“Look, taste, touch, whatever you want, Marshal.” Cocky, confident. It went straight to his dick.

“How about you start with getting undressed.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cobb should help the man undress. Instead he uses the opportunity to hop in the shower and get started. Within seconds a body joined him under the warm spray.

“How do you want to do this?” Mayfeld questioned, standing awkwardly just outside of the spray, patiently waiting his turn.

“I already told you. Shower first, then fun.” Cobb reminded him, starting the process of washing off. Normally he’d be quick and efficient, but there was something enticing about putting on a little show before the main event.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. I stink.”

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re a drama queen?” Cobb told him. Dramatic yet still somehow appealing.

“Hey, I resent that.” Mayfeld said with a mock frown that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was too busy watching Cobb’s soapy hands rub along his body.

“It’s summertime. You’re sweaty and covered in blood. Now, if you stop complaining I’ll let you soap me up.” He offered as if the request wasn’t mutually beneficial.

“Deal.”

Warm soapy hands traveled along his body. Up his arms, across his chest, lower. A hand gripped his rapidly hardening length, giving it a few small thrusts. The other hand traveled between his asscheeks, rubbing along Cobb’s hole.

“Easy there, Partner.” He said, not because he actually had a problem with the intrusion, but because he had a game plan, and that was skipping straight to the end of it.

“Ah-ah is that a complaint?” Mayfeld said, but removed his hands anyway. He grabbed the bar of soap and reapplied a heavy lather, moving his hands to his own body this time. “No complaining or I won’t let you soap me up, or whatever you said.”

“You’re already washing yourself.” Cobb pointed out.

“What can I say? I’m excited for the next part.” He said with a smirk.

“And what part would that be?”

“The part where you suck my soul out of my dick.”

“You think I’m that good, huh?” Cobb chuckled to himself as he continued his usual shower time routine. Hair care was vital, no matter what your age. Lather, rinse, repeat.

“Course. I’ve been looking at that mouth for days thinking of all the things it can do.” Mayfeld said, reaching out and grabbing Cobb by the face. A thumb traced over Cobb’s lips and he couldn’t help but flick his tongue out and lick it. He stared deep into bright blue eyes as he pulled Mayfeld’s thumb into his mouth, sucking gently. “There it is.”

Slowly Cobb dropped to his knees, ignoring the resounding click that reverberated up his body. It was a stark reminder that he was far too old to be sucking dick in the shower. Ignoring his aging body’s protest, he leaned forward and swirled his tongue around the head of Mayfeld’s cock. A pretty, reasonably sized thing nestled in a patch of bright copper curls. He placed several kisses along the shaft, kissing his way down and then licking back up. Then, because Cobb couldn’t admit to himself that he was rusty at it, he tried and failed to engulf the entire cock in one go.

Mayfeld chuckled as Cobb gagged. “Eager, huh?”

“Shut it.” He mumbled before trying again, with more success than last time. A firm hand carded through his wet hair, tugging gently but not forcing any movements. Just how Cobb liked it.

He bobbed his head, swallowing as much cock as he could. Now that he was getting back into the hang of it, pulling out his bag of tricks was simple. Soon enough he’d have Mayfeld cumming down his throat, and then maybe he’d take him up on his offer of some sort of assplay. After all, this would be their last little liaison, might as well enjoy it.

Chapter Text

They fucked in the shower. Then again in Cobb’s bed after ordering a shitty mediocre pizza for dinner. He even took Mayfeld up on his offer for a ‘good morning blowie’ or whatever he’d called it at the time, Cobb couldn’t remember. He’d been distracted by his own morning wood and the warm body dropping down next to his.

But by the time he was dressed for the day and ready to go meet with Din and Mayfeld was still there Cobb knew something was up. They had a mutual sexual understanding and all, but the room was charged to his work credit card. He couldn’t exactly leave Mayfeld alone and hope he checked out on his own. Cobb would be sacked immediately if the card was charged for room damage due to an unauthorized guest being left unattended. An unauthorized guest that he’d had questionable relations with, which could also get him fired. Yeah, it was definitely time to part ways.

“Alright let’s go.” Cobb said as he double checked the contents of his bag. Nothing left behind. Well, besides one of his good shirts that Mayfeld had taken to replace his bloodied one. He’d miss that shirt. Oh well.

“Where to, Boss?” Mayfeld asked, following him out the door and to the car.

“Bus station. Train station. Whatever you prefer. I don’t have time to drive you all the way back home, sorry. Gotta strike while the lead is still hot, you know” Cobb shrugged. He hated dumping Mayfeld like that, but this was his only lead in years, he needed to move on it now.

“So you were serious about that.” Mayfeld looked at him, expression unreadable.

“About what?” He asked.

“Getting rid of me.” The man replied.

“We had a deal.” Cobb reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m free to go home.” Mayfeld folded his arms across his chest, staring Cobb down. “If you haven’t forgotten, I don’t have a home to go back to anymore. You arrested me in front of the entire neighborhood watch.”

Cobb cringed. At the time it had been necessary. Now, knowing Mayfeld as a person rather than a target… well, he felt guilty. Years of building a life, a good reputation, trust. And all of it flushed down the drain because of Cobb. Mayfeld didn’t ask for that. Sure he was a criminal, but he’d been keeping his head down and making the right choices for years.

“So, what, you’d rather come with?” Cobb asked after a long moment. It was a bad idea. A terrible idea. Mayfeld had already been hurt twice. He was a wanted criminal. He was a distraction that Cobb couldn’t afford. And yet…

Mayfeld grinned. “Thought you’d never ask, Marshal.”

Cobb should argue. He should point out that it hadn’t really been an invitation. He should demand that Mayfeld go find a new home to settle down in. Instead he just unlocked the car for his companion before going to check out of the motel for good. They wouldn’t be back, they were about to go on a road trip. A road trip that could make or break Cobb’s career.

Mayfeld gave a tiny little wave from the passenger seat as a motorcycle roared into the parking lot. Cobb looked from Mayfeld to Din and shook his head. For better or worse they were all in this together now. Hopefully he wouldn’t regret it.

Chapter Text

Cobb made it all of four hours before he was ready to pull his hair out. They’d pulled over at a shitty diner for some lunch, which was actually his first meal of the day, and Din and Mayfeld were at it again. It was bad enough he’d had to listen to Mayfeld chatter nonstop the entire way there, but he’d also had to dodge and weave through traffic to keep up with the maniac on the bike named Din Djarin. And now the two of them were bickering yet again. Cobb wondered if their problems would disappear if the two of them just fought and fucked it out like grown adults. Or maybe that would make things grow exponentially worse. He didn’t want to risk it.

At least gathered round a diner table they could put on their game faces and discuss the matter at hand. Werner Herzog, aka The Client. They had an actual location he’d be at in seven days time. A trade. A special one too, if it got the head boss there in person. Usually his second or third in command was sent in his stead, which is why he’d been so hard to track down. The man was effectively a ghost moving in the shadows. Until now.

Din mapped out the plan. The drive times, the allotted stop times, the quickest route, and even where they’d be sleeping. Either he knew everything about every single motel in the country or they were just lucky in the path this journey was bringing them. Cobb couldn’t complain. He really didn’t feel like getting bedbugs at this point in his journey.

Mayfeld had information, too. About the location, the heat they should expect, potential weak spots and entry points in the building. He hadn’t thought to ask for any of this insight that morning and despite his previous frustration with the man, Cobb was glad they hadn’t actually parted ways. Not that he’d admit it. Even Din nodded along thoughtfully to his map as Mayfeld spoke.

The three of them spent a long time there, eating and planning, with minimal bickering. By the time the check came around Cobb was almost confident their plan could work. He may have a ragtag team, but they all had something to contribute. All he needed now was luck. Lots and lots of it.

There was a mile long list of things that could go wrong piled up before them. What if Ran’s info was wrong? What if he lied? What if it was just outdated? Seven days was a long time for plans to change. What if the day/time/location changed at the last minute? What if Ran made a phone call in prison and got word out they were coming? What if there were more people than expected? Should Cobb call for reinforcements? Would the extra officers blow their cover?

He could go on and on, but unfortunately as much preparation as the three of them could do, there just wasn’t anything he could do about the unknown. This was as close to arresting The Client as he had been in years. He was just going to have to sit back and let things play out on their own. It left a bitter uneasy taste in his mouth. Or maybe that was just the shitty diner coffee, which both Din and Mayfeld seemed to be enjoying.