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The plan was a mess from the very beginning, if you ask Takumi.
Takumi didn’t want to do it, and while he chose an outfit convincing enough that he’s ready to bang or get banged tonight (don’t ask which), he complained his way through the process in hopes of calling it off. But Syoya, although funny and comprehensive at times, he is also intelligent and perceptive (on others), which meant his plan would definitely work.
That is, if Takumi stopped complaining at some point.
“I swear for my mother, if you don’t stop whining right now, I’m gonna do it myself.” Syoya said from the earbud.
“YES” Takumi all but yelled in the middle of the street, stopping. “Please, we’re still on time.”
“No, we’re not,” Syoya laughed. “And besides, I’m taken. I cannot go to that party, with a peace of mind that Shion won’t go crazy when he hears about it.”
“Since when you’re this loyal?” Takumi grumbles. But Syoya is right, Shion will definitely go crazy, which is why the plan was designed for Takumi and not him. Also, because Takumi is small and cute, almost naive looking, in Syoya’s words. “You could’ve come with me, y’know. Be loyal to your friend too?”
“And blow our cover? Na-ah. Also, you definitely need some dick already. How long has it been?”
“None of your fucking business.” And with that, Takumi turns off the earbud for the time being. He’s walking through the streets of Tokyo in (what he promised he would not take out ever again after that one failed Halloween) his Grease inspired leather jacket. Somehow it got bigger in those two years he left it forgotten in the back of his closet, and he had the constant need to roll up his sleeves. Syoya lent him his black leather pants, and while they definitely look good on him (again, Syoya’s words) they’re uncomfortable as fuck.
No, your dick is not showing, and will not show as long as you don’t drool over people tonight. Syoya teased him.
It has definitely been a while, but he won’t accept it, not now not ever.
Once Takumi gets off the subway, his phone vibrates again.
“I’m still not there.” Takumi sighs once he takes the call.
“Well, I’m bored. Had to cancel my date to check up on you through this. Entertain me.” Syoya says.
“I’m a cop, not a comedian.”
“And every day we thank the Lord for that.” Syoya teases.
They brief through the plan again, and Syoya assures him that nothing will go wrong if he does what they prepared.
“Remember, it’s your first party. A friend of a friend of Keigo’s invited you but he’s running late. Then you flap your eyes like they’re butterflies, and the guy will let you in.”
“I just don’t think it’ll be that easy.” Takumi retorts, “They won’t let in just anybody, why me?”
Syoya laughs through the earbud. “Oh Takumi-kun, the things you’re capable of, but you’re just not ready to see them.”
“Stop making up things. Also, I’m almost there. I’ll cut the call and phone you when I’m in.”
The people outside the building are smoking as they talk, and when Takumi passes by to enter it, he recognizes the smell of marihuana. Now, if he worked along Junki in the drugs department, he would arrest them and call it a night. Although Junki would also advise him to go inside and look for the bigger fish. In conclusion, fuck Takumi either way.
The party is on the fifth floor, the elevator doors open and a bigger wave of marihuana smell crash with Takumi’s borrowed perfume.
“It’s like they’re calling to be busted.” Takumi sighs, talking with himself. Nowadays people don’t even bother, but that means they’re confident enough the police won’t come busting through the door.
No, they won’t. Apparently, they’ll send Takumi instead.
“Hi!” He says to the guy guarding the door. 5B. He tries not to seem too cheerful, but the tone slips through, and the gorilla-looking dude just stares down at him.
“Who are you?” The Tokyo tower man asks.
“I’m a friend of Keigo’s.” Takumi answers, and it sounds convincing enough. Now he’s got to make the eyes and—.
“Keigo? I don’t know who that is.”
Oh fuck.
Takumi laughs through the nervousness. Transformer here is playing him, he obviously knows Keigo.
“Then you’re probably guarding the wrong door.” Takumi jokes, in need to sound nonchalant when he is actually… full-chalant. He’s chalanting so much there’s already sweat on his leathery back.
Attack on Titans wannabe guy looks down on Takumi like he’ll eat him for dinner. Although the young cop doesn’t really feel intimidated having the gun on his back and the experience of the rigorous training he had to go through in the academy, he can’t go physical on him or else he’ll blow his cover.
Takumi opens his mouth without nothing planned to say, when a hand slips through his waist.
“What’s up, Yasupon?” A new voice asks. Takumi looks up at the silver haired guy that’s now apparently calling dibs on him. “He’s with me.”
The Eiffel Tower—well, Yasupon, doesn’t look too convinced. His frown only grows deeper, and oh well this new dude might’ve ruined everything for Takumi.
“Told you to stop calling me Yasupon.” He says. “And the little one here told me he’s friends with Keigo.”
The silver haired guy looks at Takumi now, and fuck he’s good looking why couldn’t he be ugly fuck fuc— high pitches. “Eh? Baby, you can say you’re with Ren-kun. They'll know what you mean.”
He’s already baby him? When they’ve known each other for five straight seconds?
Baby him back, the back of the voice on his head that sounds a lot like Syoya’s, tells him.
Takumi titters with his best acting skills and places a hand on Ren’s chest.
“Sorry baby, didn’t know if he knew you.”
Ren guy smiles, and those blue eyes (he’s got to have contact lenses, Takumi concludes) turn into foxy eyes when he does. Takumi can’t stop staring, even when Ren turns back to Yasupon to let them in.
The young policeman finally snaps out of it once they’re inside and Yasupon has stopped eyeing him suspiciously. He deep breathes, forgetting for a second the hand that still held his waist.
“You can let go, now,” He says, though the tone sounds instead like an order.
Ren lets go. For a second. Instead, placing his hand on Takumi’s shoulder. Ren smiles down at him, and Takumi’s eyes falter.
“Don’t feel too comfortable, baby. Now, you’re gonna explain to me who you are and what you are doing in what we both know is a mafia party.”
Fuck. Syoya should’ve definitely come in his place.
The place is jam-packed with people dancing down the neon lights, a pop song bursting through the speakers at the sides. If he thought it smelled a lot like mari outside, inside it feels like he’s inside a brownie made of it, if that makes any sense. It’s overwhelming, he’s sure his tests are going to show drug use in his system if he gets tested after this.
Takumi goes through the available options in his mind while he’s being walked to a private room.
Ren will pop up questions of how he knew about the party and Keigo, what connection he had with the Sato mafia group, and what was it that he knew. He could play the naïve card like Syoya instructed him to as the lead detective of the case.
But he doesn’t know how far his lies will get him to. Will Ren try to check on his arguments? What if he asks him to show him his phone, or, oh fuck, what if he asks to see Takumi’s Facebook? Dumb Takumi has an old picture of him graduating the academy a few years back, and he hasn’t updated it ever since.
He could also go down the fuck-it route and arrest Ren once they have privacy, tie him up and walk outside to follow what he was instructed to do. He’s not here for a small fish (supposing he’s a small one since the police doesn’t have the records on anyone called Ren tied to the case), and this is not a pond. Takumi has ventured into the lake, looking for the biggest fish there is downtown Tokyo. Sato Keigo.
Takumi concludes to let the situation speak for itself once they’re alone and go through with whatever of the two options look best.
Ren guides him to the last room, bumping into some couples, and the room is occupied at first, but with a glance, the guy walks out with his partner. He lets Takumi walk in first, and once the door clicks shut, Takumi is being pushed against it.
There’s no force in Ren’s grip on him, but he does keep both hands-on Takumi when he asks, “so, what’s your deal pink head?”
It takes two seconds for Takumi to understand the situation, and another one to act according.
He laughs, giggles in Ren’s face. The silver haired boy smiles too, despite their condition.
“And why should I tell you?” Takumi asks, an arm now resting on Ren’s shoulder. Ren’s eyes go dark in a second, and the ears go red at the tip.
“Don’t try to go hard on me, strawberry.” Ren advices in a low voice.
Takumi bursts out a small laugh, making Ren frown.
“Does it work?” He whispers, and notices when Ren stares at his lips. It’s so easy like this, Takumi now realizes. He knows what Syoya was talking about when he said he’s got it. “Do they like it when you talk to them with nice pet names?”
He doesn’t get to say anything more, because Ren kisses him then.
Here’s the thing. Takumi is not thirsty for this Ren guy, yes—he is cute. Yes, he would definitely be Takumi’s type outside of this undercover situation. And yes, this kiss (the lips, the pace, the nabbing on his lower lip and slowly asking for entrance in his mouth to mark a Ren was definitely here) is good. Really good. Good to the point Takumi lets go of himself for a hot minute, or at least he hopes it’s just a minute, because once Ren leaves his lips, he realizes that his other hand is on the back of Ren’s neck, and the silver haired boy has now a hold of his waist again.
But he’s not forgetting why he’s here.
They’re panting— hard, nose against nose, and Takumi curses on the back of his head, why oh so why couldn’t Ren have a different profession? One that wasn’t very much illegal and made this stupidly impossible to bloom?
“Looks like it worked on you, strawberry.” Ren smiles, and fuck—Takumi really wants to shut him up with another kiss, but he really shouldn’t, he— “and what’s this?”
Ren pulls out the gun that was hidden on Takumi’s back. Takumi’s pupils go big, before Ren turns him around and pushes him against the door, this time with the purpose to hurt him.
“Speak. Now.”
Now, he could go down two routes—
“And don’t give me any bullshit that you don’t know.”
Damage control, Takumi thinks. You gotta do some damage control.
“He owns me some money.” He says, “He—”
“Bullshit.” Ren whispers in his ear. Though hot, this makes Takumi pull out the cop face, forgetting their kiss of two minutes ago. “Keigo doesn’t own to no one.”
He’s out of options. Fuck, he lowered his guard, and karma came biting on his ass too soon.
Ren positions the gun on the back of Takumi’s head, and says, this time slower than before, “now if I were you, I would be considering really carefully whether to lie again.”
And he did, he did consider on coming up with a new one. Maybe he’s an old ex-boyfriend of Keigo’s and he came back for revenge? But that in itself is messy and suspicious. Ren seems to be close enough to Keigo to know this type of information and saying that he’s a long-lost child of his just didn’t have a nice ring to it.
“I’m a cop.” He confesses, at last. Takumi then no longer feels the tip of the gun pressing on him.
“You what?” Ren asks.
There’s a heavy trust on the door. It’s not on theirs, but it’s loud enough to echo up to where they are. They’re both startled by the sound, and the young detective takes advantage of the situation when he feels Ren’s grip going weaker. He turns them around, places a leg behind Ren’s and pushes him down against the ground. The silver haired boy grunts and tries to fight back, muttering something Takumi is no longer paying attention to.
He’s got to found Keigo. (And get out of here, too).
Takumi, sitting on Ren’s back, is in the middle of scanning the room in look for something to tie him with, when their door bursts open. Takumi almost cracks his head when he turns around to see the black clothed men coming in.
“Hands where I can see them! Now!” The guy’s voice sounds familiar enough for Takumi, which makes him ignore the command. “I said—Takumi?” The person in charge takes off his mask.
“Syoya!” He exclaims, now relieved, but with adrenaline still going through his veins. “What are you doing here?”
“You never called back, dumbass!” Syoya all but screams. He doesn’t sound mad per se, but really enraged. “We got Keigo handcuffed already, stand up. Mame, handcuff him.”
Two hours and a hot shower at the station later, Takumi finally starts feeling the fatigue of a long night. It’s around three am, and all he wants is go back to his apartment to sleep until his next shift. He’s on his way out, when a silver haired person pops up back on his mind.
He walks back toward Sukai’s desk. He has the night shift this week and should be the one processing the suspects along Syoya.
“Sukai, do you know where the suspects are being held?” Sukai’s about to answer, but someone beats him to it.
“The one you’re looking for is not being held, strawberry.”
Takumi jumps in surprise, and it’s super ready to use his gun, when he sees the police badge dandling in Ren’s neck.
“The fuck?” He asks instead, and Ren laughs out loud.
“He—,” Sukai intervenes, “he’s Kawashiri Ren, our superior. He was undercover for the last six months with the Sato mafia.”
Takumi’s perplexed. He understands what he’s being told, but he’s really trying to understand. To link the ties and come up with a conclusion on what he should be doing right now. He stays still for a whole minute, and Sukai stands up to check up on him. Ren, still laughing, walks up to him and lowers the gun in Takumi’s hand. Sukai finally senses that the scene is just too private for him to be there, so he walks away, and Takumi finally comes out of his stupid trance.
“So, tell me, strawberry. Will you finally tell me what’s your deal, or will I have to make you tell me over dinner?”
Takumi just laughs. Fuck. Fuck yes.
“Dinner?” He repeats in a mocking tone. Ren frowns. “How about lunch instead?”