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Raijin have a routine each morning, one Tatsuki is comfortable with. Each morning he lets himself into Rintarou’s room, opens the blinds to let the sunlight in for the few hours it lasts, moves Rintarou’s tech from the bed to his desk, tosses the empty energy drink cans and discarded wrappers into the bin and yanks his duvet from him as a wake up call.
“Good morning,” Tatsuki says every day.
And every day Rintarou replies, “like hell it is.”
He drags Rintarou from his bed and into the communal showers, listening to Sakusa’s daily grumbling about how much he hates them, and Komori’s standard laughter in return. If Rintarou’s had a particularly trying night, sometimes Tatsuki helps him wash while he stands under the spray, all but asleep on his feet. It’s a trust Rintarou would never have given when they first became partners, forced together to hunt down a particularly troublesome member of The Abyss. Those days when Rintarou regarded him with suspicion; when Rintarou looked at Tatsuki and saw just another person who would turn him in for the slightest infraction and when Rintarou wouldn’t feel a pang of guilt for doing the same. That same guarded, closed off Rintarou now lets himself be completely vulnerable around him as he works his fingers through Rintarou’s unreasonably knotted hair. It feels a lot like making friends with a stray cat - or at least what he imagines making friends with a stray cat feels like.
Rintarou never dries his hair. He barely towels himself dry before pulling on his clothes, usually favouring high necks and compression sleeves that leave the ID on his shoulder easily visible. And then he flops over the island counter in the kitchenette of their common room, and won’t move from there until Iizuna returns from their regular café with their breakfast and an obscene amount of coffee. Komori will fuss over his strawberry plant, fuss over Sakusa and then fuss over Rintarou. He always finds a hideously bright towel from somewhere - Rintarou has tried to dispose of them and they keep coming back - to gently dry Rintarou’s hair while bugging him to report on whatever snooping he was doing last night. He never gets an answer, but that never stops him trying.
Tatsuki watches the square below through the large window of the common room. Hoshiumi Kourai is hurrying through the morning sunlight towards one of the luxury apartment buildings nearby. It means Hirugami Sachirou is in his personal apartment rather than his family’s home. At least a few times a week, Hoshiumi hurries across the square to his employer’s personal apartment and a few minutes later, Miya Atsumu leaves, pulling on his coat and slinging a guitar case over his shoulder. There’s nothing unusual about it really, Miya is Hirugami’s Guard Dog and Hoshiumi is his PA - although what Tatsuki has seen of them, that seems more like a title of convenience than his actual job. It makes perfect sense that Miya remains with his ward to protect him until someone else capable turns up though. It would be stranger if Hoshiumi was the one leaving each morning. Still, something about it strike Tatsuki as odd, an instinct honed over years within the EJP, so he keeps track of their comings and goings.
Iizuna arrives with breakfast and hot drinks and the team take their usual seats. Rintarou never bothers to take the towel from his hair like a veil as he slumps on the deep, L-shaped couch, just moving it enough to put on his glasses. Tatsuki always has to pick up a plate for Rintarou's breakfast pastry when he invariably forgets and hands it to him before Sakusa can snap about crumbs. He takes his place between Rintarou and Komori - and somewhere along the lines Rintarou casually draping his legs across Tatsuki’s lap became the norm - as Iizuna tosses files on the table and declares they have a case.
It’s a routine that Tatsuki has become used to. Has grown comfortable in. Arguing with Rintarou over whether espresso shots can be taken like alcoholic shots. Listening to Sakusa’s grumbling over doing things properly. Komori’s whining about boring cases or delight over a challenge. Iizuna’s ever charming, cheery smile while listing off the suspected crimes of whatever poor soul has caught the attention of him and the bosses.
It’s a routine he’s happy with.
They’re people he’s happy with.
Even so, there’s a tension underlying everything. An uncomfortable weight in his chest he can’t ignore. Raijin exists to hunt and neutralize threats in all forms. That includes each other. They have a lot of leeway, thanks to their high security clearance and undercover operations, but they are still all watching each other. They’ll all report each other if they step out of line, and anyone covering it up out of loyalty or friendship will be just as guilty.
Tatsuki has been Rintarou’s partner for years though. He’s in tune with his movements and habits. He can’t help but pick out his footsteps through the halls of Raijin’s dorm. He hears him leave late at night, when he’s usually on his computers. It wouldn’t be worth noting, Rintarou can go where he likes whenever he likes, but Tatsuki also can’t help noticing how often Rintarou’s night time excursions align with Abyss activity.
Anyone else and Tatsuki would report it to the higher ups straight away. It’s not anyone else though. It’s Rintarou. The thought of betraying him - despite knowing and believing the mantra that those innocent have nothing to fear from having their activities reported - feels like ripping out a part of himself. It’s not betrayal. It’s not wrong. He’d be doing the right thing, the responsible thing, but he can’t bring himself to do it.
Not without confronting Rintarou first.
Rintarou returns from another trip in the early hours of the morning and Tatsuki is waiting. He sighs in exhaustion and switches on the hall light, only to freeze seeing Tatsuki on a stool at the counter. It’s not a good look, being caught with one of their blaster rifles and a bag, clearly not having simply gone on a midnight stroll. And Tatsuki hates how, in an uncharacteristic moment of openness, guilt and shame flashes across Rintarou’s features.
“Where were you?” Tatsuki says.
Rintarou finally recovers and schools his face back into a mask of blank disinterest as he crosses the common room and opens up their armoury vault.
“Out.”
“Where?” Tatsuki says. “Don’t make me pull your movements from the scanners, Rintarou.”
“I didn’t realise you were my mother,” Rintarou says with a shrug. He closes up the vault again and turns to Tatsuki with his arms folded. “I was with a lady friend.”
“A lady friend?”
Rinatrou rolls his eyes. “Has it been so long since you last got laid you’ve forgotten how to have any subtly about it? I met a woman for sex. Better?”
“I understood what you meant, Rintarou,” Tatsuki says. “I was asking who she is.”
“Do I need an alibi? Are you interrogating me?”
“That is part of our job, isn’t it?”
Tatsuki narrows his eyes as Rintarou drops his bag so he can pull himself onto the counter and crack open another energy drink. He doesn’t look dishevelled enough to be a man who's just returned from a hook up, and why would he need a blaster for that anyway? It’s unlike Rintarou to outright lie, especially to Tatsuki himself. He’ll omit details, refuse to answer or give vague platitudes, but lying is so unlike him.
“Amanai Kanoka,” Rintarou says. “You can ask her, she’ll confirm it, if you have to be that indiscreet about it.”
Tatsuki purses his lips. Amanai Kanoka? Daughter of one of the Five Families. Heiress of the Kanoka family. Chart topping idol. Sakusa Kiyoomi’s fiancé. He takes a sip of his tea and Rintarou slurps his drink obnoxiously, waiting for his conclusion. He can believe they know each other well enough to have an affair. Rintarou might be from the Outer City - his childhood had been one of struggling to make ends meet, shifting debt from one place to the next to stay afloat and taking every job possible - but he was employed in the Hirugami households as a teen. He certainly could have met her and got to know her. She wouldn’t be the first from society’s elite to take a lover considered beneath them in secret. Especially knowing Sakusa and Amanai’s engagement is a political and financial decision, not one of love.
They would be an attractive pair. Tatsuki glances up at Rintarou, who glances at him over the edge of his can. Their eyes meet for a moment before Rintarou turns away and takes another drink. He wonders if she would run her fingers through his hair and Rintarou would lean into her touch, open and vulnerable as he is when Tatsuki does so. Is Rintarou is just as quiet and careful with his words when with her, or can she bring out a side of Rintarou that Tatsuki has never been allowed to see?
Compared to Komori and Iizuna and a lot of the people Tatsuki had trained with, Rintarou is private about these things. Tatsuki has walked in on Komori with partners and had to remind him he had his own room more times than he can count. Iizuna currently has a girlfriend and never shuts up about her. He's even seen Sakusa pick up the odd partner from a bar or club on a rare occasion. Rintarou has never been one to talk about his love life though, romantic or physical, so Tatsuki has never considered anything about it, but suddenly he wonders. What would Rintarou look like kissed breathless, cheeks flushed, eyes dark and hazy and hair tousled from fingers raking through it? How would Rintarou sound with his breath hitched and voice tight and cracking?
Tatsuki lifts his head, gazing at the sharp angles of Rintarou’s face in the harsh, cold lights of their common room that turn his eyes an eerie green. Rintarou tilts his head to gaze down at him with a slight quirk to his lips, a strange expression that Tatsuki has never noticed before.
“What?”
“I don’t believe you,” Tatsuki says.
Rintarou laughs.
In the entire time they’ve worked together, in four years, Tatsuki doesn’t think he’s ever heard Rintarou laugh like that, in a way that wasn’t a cruel sneer designed to hurt whoever he’s tearing into. Apparently there’s actually a lot of Rintarou that he’s never seen before.
“Of course you don’t,” Rintarou says. “So, what do you believe?”
“I don’t think you need a blaster to meet your secret girlfriend,” he says. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence you wander off when there’s something big going on The Abyss. But I doubt you’re stupid enough to use Amanai as an alibi if she’s not going to actually cover for you, and your connection with the Hirugami family means levelling such an accusation at you without proof would see if backfire and I’d take the heat.”
“Then why ask?”
“Because I want you to be honest with me.”
“You want me to confess. If I confess, you’ll have a legitimate reason to report me. It’s not your job to discern if my confession is a joke, a lie or the truth, just to report that I said it.”
“We’re partners,” Tatsuki says quietly. “We’re supposed to trust each other.”
“But clearly you don’t,” Rintarou replies. He hums, swirling the remaining drink in his can. “Well, you’re not wrong. Congratulations, you’ve caught a big fish, Tatsuki.”
Tatsuki frowns. “What did you do, Rintarou?”
“There’s an Abyss project, Project Sun,” he says, gazing down at his drink, “an experiment to create a Recycler super soldier. Seems someone tipped off MSBY and the Black Jackals were sent in to deal with it tonight. I had to tie off some loose threads.”
“You mean assassinate people.”
“Isn’t that what I said?”
That’s about what it usually means in their line of business. yes.
“One person, mostly,” Rintarou says.
“EJP’s informant within the Jackals?” Tatsuki guesses.
Rintarou hums and takes a long, purposeful drink.
“You’re the reason every Jackal who turns informant dies. Your job is to protect the mole within the Jackals.”
“Please,” Rintarou says, “do you really think I’m a lowly grunt who runs around taking orders?” He jumps off of the counter and picks up his bag. “I’m in charge.”
“You’re-”
“You should report me,” he says, stepping away. “I’ll lie, say I was just joking around drunk, Kanoka will tell them I was with her and I’ll be cleared in a few days. But you should report me anyway. It’s the right thing to do.”
“Why? Tatsuki says. Rintarou glances back at him over his shoulder. “Why would you work with them?”
“I’ll save the sob story for another time,” Rintarou replies with a shrug. “Do what you think is best, Tatsuki.”
He vanishes from the common room and Tatsuki sighs, gazing down at his drink, mug still clasped in his hands. What now? Rintarou is one of the bosses of The Abyss? Rintarou’s right, his connections and reputation means he’ll be given the benefit of the doubt and an alibi from one of the Five Families means he’ll be cleared almost instantly. There’s no point reporting him. He’ll be back within days like nothing happened. Is there any point reporting him?
Even knowing Rintarou will get off easily doesn’t stop the bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of turning him in. They’re partners. They always have been. They’re supposed to trust each other. And now everything’s changed.
Their routine is ruined the next morning by a knock on the door before anyone but Iizuna is up. But Rintarou comes out of his room already dressed to be met by a pair from EJP headquarters. He goes with them silently and without hassle, not even looking at the other members of the group. He has to hold his head high and look like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like he’s not afraid of being called in by HQ, because there’s nothing to fear if he’s not hiding anything. He can't afford to show any weakness.
Realising just how good Rintarou is at lying with that blank face and quiet demeanour hits Tatsuki surprisingly hard. There’s no time for dwelling on it though. Iizuna has a new case for them and no one says a word about Rintarou’s absence. Even if the apartment is too quiet and empty without him.
The door opens again late at night a few days later and Tatsuki gets out of bed to find Rintarou coming in. Rintarou tilts his head, the dim light from the common room catching the sharp lines of his face. Just like the last time they were here. Tonight, though, his eyes are soft and reflect closer to a warm, woody gold.
“You’re back.”
“Told you I would be,” Rintarou says. “But I’m dying of caffeine withdrawals so can we do this with a drink?”
He sweeps into the common room. Tatsuki hesitates for a moment before following. He’s already in the fridge, picking out one of his energy drinks, and then pulls himself up onto the counter in the same spot as last time. Tatsuki silently makes himself a cup of tea and takes his place on the stool beside him.
“I’m not mad,” Rintarou says, once he’s down half the can.
“You never thought you would be caught,” Tatsuki says. “Why would you be mad?”
Rintarou lets out a puff of laughter. “No. I’m not mad because you did what I expected you to. You acted faster than I expected though. I thought it would be a few days of considering it before you got up the will to do it. I was going to give you three before turning you in myself.”
“Why would you turn me in for protecting you?” he says.
“It means I can trust you.”
“You can trust me because I betrayed you?”
“Because you put the city first,” Rintarou says. He smiles, warm and easy. “That means I know I can trust you to know I’m a double agent.”
Tatsuki lifts his head. “A double agent?”
“It’s complicated, I’ll give you the full details another time, when I’m less exhausted,” he replies, “but for now, know that my position within The Abyss is authorised by highest authorities. The Super recruited me for it.”
“The Super did?”
Rintarou nods. “I was the one who tipped off MSBY about Project Sun. The thing about me being so high up within the chain of command, is that I know when an informant is giving us the wrong information. I can confirm everything they tell us. And a few mistakes, a little misinformation is nothing to worry about, but consistently giving us bad information is the sign of someone having bought into their own cover.”
“That’s why you had to get rid of the current one,” Tatsuki says. Rintarou nods. “So, who is the mole within the Jackals? Why are they being allowed to continue if you know who they are?”
“It’s complicated,” Rintarou says, eyes narrowing just a little.
“They’re a double agent too?” he says, laying a hand on Rintarou’s thigh. Rintarou's gazes snaps over to him and Tatsuki frowns, the pieces slowly coming together in his mind. He didn’t get this far within EJP without being able to read the complicated web of alliances and betrayals of spies and counterspies. “Ah, that’s why the rumours of the mole were never cracked down on. The Black Jackals always recruit straight out of the academy. You can vet those that apply, allow those you’re suspicious of to join and then let the mole approach them and test them. Just as you did me.”
Rintarou hums and pats his hand. That’s as much confirmation as Tatsuki needs. He’s used to the intricate games of their bosses. He’s almost surprised MSBY and EJP can play ball for long enough to arrange for Rintarou and whoever the Jackal’s mole is to work together so well. Their departments aren't known for stellar cooperation.
“I’ll help you as you need,” Tatsuki says.
“You’re my partner,” Rintarou says, “I know you’ll have my back. I’ll fill you in on all the little details another time. Right now, I just want to sleep.”
He finishes off the last of his drink and tosses the empty can into the bin with a metallic clang. The effort Rintarou will go through not to move further than he has to is amazing sometimes. He slides from the counter and pats Tatsuki’ shoulder in passing.
“I’m glad I can tell you, you know,” he says quietly. “You looked pretty mad when I said I was having an affair with Kanoka.”
Tatsuki frowns. Had he? He hadn’t thought so, but Rintarou does tend to pick up on his moods easily. Well, he wasn’t exactly fond of the idea. Every time he thought of Rintarou being interrogated and giving Amanai as his alibi, he wondered if she would cover for him before their affair was real. Was she a convenient alibi, or was she his lover?
“There it is, that's the look,” Rintarou says. Tatsuki turns. Rintarou is paused in the common room doorway. “Don’t worry, the sanctity of Sakusa and Kanoka’s loveless engagement is safe. She just covers for me.”
Is that what bothers him? That Rintarou would have an affair with Sakusa’s fiancé? Tatsuki frowns and leaves his half finished tea on the counter. Sakusa will complain about it in the morning, but he leaves it anyway, instead striding into the hallway after Rintarou. It’s not that Amanai is engaged to Sakusa that bothers him. Rintarou stops at his approaching footsteps and turns just in time for Tatsuki to catch up and back him against the wall.
“Oh,” Rintarou says.
He tilts his head with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Suddenly, now the truth has come out, Rintarou is so much more open with his expressions. Tatsuki doesn’t hate it. Rintarou finally trusts him enough to show him how he’s truly feeling.
“In that case, nevermind,” Rintarou says, reaching up to cup his face. “I can keep pretending to be a homewrecker if it’ll convince you to make a move.”
“You were waiting?” Tatsuki says.
“Duh. So?”
Befriending Rintarou really is like befriending a stray cat. To think he thought he’d understood all there was to Rintarou. Such a fickle, mischievous and tricky creature that is somehow so beguiling and charming you can’t help but fall in love. So aloof and then so demanding without warning.
Four years of tension, building so slowly Tatsuki hadn’t even realised, melt away in a perfect moment of peace and contentment when their lips meet. Rintarou’s arms slide around Tatsuki’s neck and long fingers twist into his hair as his own hands glide over Rintarou’s ribs. There’s nothing rushed or desperate about it. Somehow kissing Rintarou is as natural as leaning into each others’ sides during a boring stakeout or running his fingers through Rintarou’s hair in the shower.
“Come on,” Rintarou whispers, taking his hand and leading him down the hall. “We’ve got wasted time to make up for.”
“I thought you were exhausted,” Tatsuki replies. “You should sleep. I tidied your room while you were away so you'll actually be able to sleep in your bed.”
“You mean you’ve ruined my organization,” he says.
“I’m sure you’ll have it back how you like it in no time.”
Next morning, they break from routine for just a moment. Tatsuki wakes to Rintarou sleeping beside him after a good night’s sleep, hair splayed across the pillow and face calm and peaceful. It’s surprisingly refreshing to see him so relaxed. He cups Rintarou’s cheek gently, stroking his thumb over the heavy, dark bags beneath his eyes. Perhaps if he can convince Rintarou to have a marginally better sleep schedule now. At least one full night of sleep a week.
Tatsuki’s alarm goes off on his phone and he stretches over to switch it off before Rintarou is roused from his sleep. He does have to wake him up, but he looks far too peaceful. It seems like such a shame to disturb him. Not to mention a waste of a perfectly good opportunity. Tatsuki leans in and takes the chance to wake Rintarou with a gentle kiss.
Rintarou’s stirs and Tatsuki had never really considered how cute he is when slowly being drawn from his sleep. He’d never really stopped to appreciate it. The way his nose wrinkles and his brow furrows until his eyes flutter open.
“Good morning,” he says softly.
Rintarou leans into his palm and closes his eyes, letting out a slow breath before replying, “I suppose it might be.”
“I knew it!” Komori declares. Rintarou jerks up as Tatsuki turns to the door. Komori is leaning in the door and grinning back at them. “I knew you two were going to get together sooner or later. Tsukasa, you owe me money!”
“Really?” comes Iizuna’s voice. “Congrats but I’m kinda mad you couldn't have waited until your fifth anniversary.”
“Serves him right for betting on us, I expected better of him,” Rintarou says.
Komori grins. “Like you’re not betting on everyone else’s relationships.”
Rintarou throws a pillow at the door but Komori has already vanished and slammed the door. Tatsuki sighs and gets up from the bed, ready to start the morning routine all over again. This is going to be all Komori talks about all day - or at least until they get a case to distract him. No one says a word about Rintarou’s sudden reappearance anymore than they said a word about him leaving. It can’t be treated as anymore of a big deal than his leaving, because that would imply they thought for even a second he wouldn’t come home, and that would bring up questions of why they didn’t report him themselves.
At least Tatsuki knows the truth now though, and hopefully Rintarou will let him know what he’s doing from now on.
“So,” Iizuna says an hour later.
He drops a file on the table in the common room. Nothing has changed. The routine remains the same. Rintarou is still about to down his espresso like a shot, Komori is still gazing at the files with barely concealed anticipation and Sakusa is still scowling into his tea as if he isn’t just as eager to get to work.
“We have a new case.”