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“Well, Angel,” Kuroo hums into his earpiece, “you sure you’re ready for this?”
Keiji looks around, grips his equipment belt as he takes in the room. “Laser sensors,” he says, “criss-cross patterns across the floor of varying heights. Half a meter for ten paces, then a meter and a half for twenty, then a meter for twenty, then a quarter meter for the last twenty.”
“And don’t forget the motion sensors,” Kenma, his best friend and the mastermind behind their plan, echoes in his other ear. “There’s one at ten o’clock twenty paces in, and another at three o’clock at fifty paces.”
“Ten at twenty paces,” Keiji repeats, “and three at fifty… got it.”
“You’ll have a clear space of about one square meter around the case itself,” Kenma adds. “Don’t make any sudden or large movements”
“Just get in, get the jewel, get out,” Kuroo says. Keiji can hear the worry in his voice, and Keiji knows his lover wishes he could be in there with him. But he can’t; he’s not as proficient at this as Keiji—no one is—and extra bodies always compromise the situation. “I can be there in thirty seconds if you need me.”
“Devil,” Keiji says.
“I still love that you call me that,” Kuroo says.
Keiji has to fight the urge to roll his eyes, as affectionate as it is. “It’s for professional purposes only, I can assure you.” He hears Kenma gagging on his line. “I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will.” Kuroo’s brimming confidence makes Keiji smile. “We’ll be on standby if you need us.”
“Good luck, Angel,” Kenma says, and the feeds cut out.
Keiji closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, visualizes the field before him. He can see the lasers in his mind’s eye; he can see the motion sensors waiting for him.
But Keiji isn’t the top cat burglar in the country for nothing.
He adjusts his black gloves, flexes to make sure the sensors are in place,
And, he goes.
The laser pattern is easy to avoid, if one knows the right path. He keeps his steps large and erratic, counting carefully in his head. At ten paces, he drops to a crawl; it’ll be most effective for the majority of his path. The motion sensor at twenty paces is also easy to avoid; Keiji rolls to nine o’clock and keeps his movements small.
Fifty paces is the real problem. He’s got to shift position and not trigger the alarm. He stays low, takes his time, and moves to four o’clock, rolls his way past.
Once he’s through, he gives himself a moment to take a breath. There’s no hurry; the guards won’t be back for another hour, and he’s almost there.
Keiji goes back to his elbows and knees and crawls his steps. The drop to a quarter meter will be a problem, but he is pretty sure he can manage.
Twenty paces. Keiji pulls out his rope launcher from his toolbelt. He opens it up and attaches a three-pronged hook to the end. He looks up, finds what he hopes is a secure steel beam, aims, and fires. The launcher is silent; the hook wraps around the beam and catches.
Keiji takes a breath.
He angles his body, holds the launcher firm in his hands, draws his legs up, and presses the retract button.
The rope goes taut; Keiji curls around it as he’s pulled towards the ceiling; when he reaches the beam, he latches on, his legs circling it and holding on as he disconnects the rope and the hook from the beam. He just attaches it back onto his belt; he’s going to need it again in a few minutes.
From here, it’s a fairly short crawl along the beam to the jewel. He’ll have to drop down, practically on top of the case, but he shouldn’t have any problems once he gets there.
Keiji presses a button on his earpiece.
“What’s up, Angel?” Of course, Kuroo’s immediately there.
“Any intel on the case itself?” Keiji whispers. “I’m almost there.”
“Lifting the glass casing will immediately trigger an alarm,” Kenma says in his other ear.
“Use the glass cutter,” Kuroo advises.
“Won’t that trigger it, too?” Keiji frowns.
There’s a pause, not because Kuroo and Kenma aren’t sure, but because they’re checking and double-checking their information.
“It…should be okay,” Kuroo says after a moment.
Keiji hums. “That doesn’t sound very reliable, Devil.”
“No, it’ll be fine,” Kenma adds quickly as Kuroo squawks offense in his other ear. “Just…don’t shake the glass when you do it.”
Keiji grimaces. Easier said than done.
But, he just says “Noted,” and cuts the feed again.
Keiji looks down at the case; he’s got to try and descend right as close to the case as possible, not shake the glass, and still avoid the sensors?
Deep breaths, Keiji.
You got this.
He moves across the last stretch of space, staying close to the beam. When he’s as close to the case as he dares to get, he attaches up the rope on the beam again, careful to make sure the hook loops around and catches hold. He rolls to the underside of the beam, legs still doing all the work to hold him in place, and then, he holds the launcher steady, prays the rope will hold, and lets go.
Steady, steady, steady.
Keiji holds the launcher steady, releasing it just millimeters at a time. His body lowers through the space; he’s watching the case, watching the ground, hoping that Kuroo and Kenma didn’t make a mistake and that the space immediately surrounding the case was, in fact, free of sensors.
As soon as he can, Keiji drops his legs; when his feet touch the ground, he hauls himself upright. He leaves the rope intact and hooks the launcher to his belt again. If he needs to get out of there fast, he wants to make sure he has an easy way out.
The case is before him; it’s sitting on a smooth mahogany pedestal. He can see his face, the bottom half hidden by a black, breathable mask, reflected in the glass. Beyond the glass, the jewel sits on a smaller pedestal; like the case, it’s made of glass, and comes up into an X-shape as the bottom of the jewel nestles into it.
Keiji sucks in a quiet breath.
Fifty carats of flawless pink diamond shines back at him.
The most perfect pink diamond in the world.
And now, it’s about to belong to Keiji.
Commissioned Artwork by rhapeseuhans
He reaches into his belt, and pulls out the glass cutter. Seamless, and designed to cut a hole in glass exactly the size of Keiji’s hand—one of Kuroo’s best creations. Keiji smiles as he allows himself a moment of nostalgia as he remembers Kuroo “studying” Keiji’s hands.
“All in the name of creating the perfect tool,” he’d declared at the time, as he’d sucked two of Keiji’s fingers into his mouth.
Keiji had known better then, and he knows better now.
Still, he can’t deny that Kuroo has a way about him.
Careful not to disturb the glass, Keiji holds the cutter up to the pane. It works off a sensor on Keiji’s gloves; he’s the only one that can activate it. He presses the sensor to the center of the cutter; it doesn’t move, but he feels it grow warm under his hand, and he knows that it’s working.
When the glass finally gives, he releases the pressure on the cutter, and moves his hand back. The glass stays attached to the cutter and falls away, and at last, Keiji’s got a clear path to the jewel.
He puts the cutter, glass still intact, on his belt, then adjusts his gloves to make sure they are snug. The sensors will also alert Kuroo and Kenma to his success; they’ll know the instant the jewel is in his hands.
He looks through the hole in the glass and takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes, counts to five, then lets it go.
He can do this. He can.
Slowly, so slowly, Keiji reaches through the glass.
And, from somewhere deep within the room, an alarm goes off.
Keiji freezes; red lights flash in the room, and a second of panic streaks through him.
“Shit,” Kuroo swears, loud in his ear. “Shit, shit, shit!”
“Grab the jewel, Angel!” Kenma shouts. “What the fuck, how did we not know this!”
“I’m coming in, Angel!” Kuroo’s yelling in his ear. “Grab the jewel and get out of there! I’m coming to get you!”
Keiji blinks, jerks himself back into the moment, grabs the jewel and shoves it into the pouch in the jacket he’s wearing, then grabs the launcher. He squeezes the trigger, and he’s immediately whipped back up into the air, his body torquing as he tries to bring it under control.
He hits the beam hard, the wind knocked out of his chest, but Keiji ignores the pain and immediately rolls over onto the beam. He disconnects the rope and the hook, shoves everything back onto his belt, and takes off along the beams that criss-cross the ceiling. He’s looking for a vent, the one that Kuroo had told him to climb through in case of an emergency, that he would be there and…
“Back left corner!” Kuroo says in his ear, cool and smooth and easy, and Keiji relaxes a bit; he can see the vent, he’s going to get there, and Kuroo will be there, Kuroo with his easy posture and his smoldering eyes and…
The door to the room bangs open, and Keiji nearly stumbles and falls the ten meters to the ground. But he holds his balance, and watches from the shadows as the guards burst in, guns raised, and begin scouring the room.
He hears them shouting to one another, but he’s nearly there, and so long as he doesn’t make too much noise, he’s going to be fine.
He just wishes his heart wasn’t pounding so hard.
He slows down his movements, aligns himself as close to the beam as possible, so the guards only have a chance to see him if they are looking up at him from a particular angle. They’re working on shutting down the motion sensors, but Keiji’s on the other side of the room by now, and he’s at the vent, ready to escape to his freedom, to victory, to Kuroo.
He takes out a tiny screwdriver from his belt and works quickly and carefully, unscrewing each corner of the vent. When it’s open, he crawls through, then pulls the vent up behind him and screws it back into place. He pauses for a moment, listens against the cool metal, then turns, and crawls through the vent, looking for his way out.
“Kodzuken,” he mutters, turning the feed back on. “Can you give me a way out?”
There’s static on the line for several seconds, then Kenma’s voice comes through, crackly and sparse, but there.
“You’re going to see a turn in about…five meters,” Kenma says. “Take that turn, then follow it for another ten meters or so. The passageway will divide, and you’ll go…left.” He pauses. “That should get you to Devil.”
“Waiting for you, Angel,” Kuroo chimes in; Keiji can hear the tremble in his voice. “Hurry, but be careful. The alarms are sounding even out here.”
Keiji nods, even though he knows neither of them can see. “See you in a few,” he says, and cuts the feed again.
He moves faster now, on his elbows and the balls of his feet, keeping his knees aloft so they don’t accidentally brush against the vent and cause noise. It’s catlike, the stealth he needs, and he’s spent an insane amount of time honing both his reflexes and his core strength to ensure he’s able to do what he needs to do in an instant.
Five meters in, and Keiji indeed sees the turn that Kenma indicated would be there. He picks up his pace, scooting through the ventilation as quickly as he dares. He can hear the alarms again, growing louder as he goes—he must be getting closer to a surveillance room, so he eases up on his movements and makes sure he’s treading as lightly as possible.
He makes the turn; he hears voices; he sees a vent that will lead him out to a room.
He’s tempted to look, but he can’t, he won’t, he doesn’t want to get distracted, not when he’s this close, not when Kuroo is waiting for him, every second he does putting his life in danger, too.
Ten meters passes too slowly, but Keiji’s finally at the last turn. He makes the left, follows the passageway, and arrives at another vent that opens out to…something.
He hesitates, but then the screws on the vent begin to open, and Keiji’s hand goes to the knife he keeps on his belt. He pulls it as the vent falls away, ready to leap forward and slash whoever the fuck…
And then, a notoriously bad head of dark hair pokes into his line of vision, and Keiji sighs in relief.
“I thought you were…well, not you,” he says irritably as Kuroo grins and extends a hand to help him out of the vent.
Kuroo’s grin falters for a moment, and Keiji’s once again struck by how handsome his partner is. “Angel,” he says, holding his free hand to his chest in mock sadness as he pulls Keiji free. “Don’t we know each other well enough by now that you always know me?”
“Not when I’m sure I’ve got a whole building full of guards after me,” Keiji deadpans.
Kuroo’s grin is back. “It’s good to see you, Angel,” he says, hazel eyes softening.
Keiji pulls down his mask and smiles back. “Yeah,” he replies, “it’s good to see you, too, Devil.”
Kuroo opens his mouth to say something more, but there’s a loud bang and his eyes widen. “Come on,” he says instead, “we gotta go.”
“But the vent…” Keiji begins.
“Leave it,” Kuroo says, “there’s no time.”
There’s another loud bang, followed by several shouts, and Kuroo takes off, pulling Keiji after him. They race through the corridor, red lights flashing around them, and Keiji’s heart is pounding again, partially from fear of getting caught, and partially from the warmth of Kuroo’s hand in his, even through Keiji’s glove.
Kuroo leads them to the end of the corridor, then hangs a sudden right, Keiji nearly stumbling, but Kuroo’s hand keeps him steady. He takes them left, then right again, then through a door and up a flight of stairs, to another door which Kuroo bangs open and Keiji realizes with horror that they’re on the roof.
“Devil,” he says, and Kuroo turns to him, a wild look in his eyes.
“Angel,” he replies, so husky, and Keiji’s heart skips a beat.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, and Keiji’s body thrums with the knowledge that he does, he does, he does.
Keiji doesn’t answer.
Instead, Keiji tugs Kuroo back to him, their mouths meeting in a desperate, adrenaline-driven kiss.
It’s hot, and mad, Keiji’s mouth opening up and Kuroo’s tongue pushing between his lips. He’s taking what’s his, what’s always been his, and Keiji nearly melts into his arms, because he’s Kuroo’s, he’s always been Kuroo’s, and he will continue to be Kuroo’s.
Kuroo has kept him safe and alive more times than Keiji can count now.
And, Kuroo will continue to keep him safe, and alive, even now, even from the roof of a building where Keiji just stole one of the rarest gemstones in the world.
Kuroo breaks the kiss and flashes him that same, snarky grin. “Come on,” he says, and Keiji chases after him to the edge of the roof. There’s a loud noise, a burst of wind, and Keiji looks up to see a helicopter descending, a rope ladder dangling from the open door.
“Tetsu,” Keiji gasps, forgetting for the moment that, when they’re on a job, he’s Angel and Kuroo’s Devil, because what the fuck has Kuroo gotten him into now?
“Just…” Kuroo gives him a little push. “Jump.”
“J—jump?!” Keiji sputters.
An angry little blonde head pokes through the opening in the helicopter. “Now!” It’s Kenma, and he looks beyond annoyed. “You fucked up the rendezvous point, Devil!”
Kuroo just shrugs and grins, and Kenma huffs.
“I can’t do this,” Keiji says.
“What?” Kuroo asks, aghast. “You can break into one of the most intensely guarded buildings in the world, steal a 50-carat diamond, and this is too much for you?” He pulls a pout. “Really, Angel,” he adds, “I expected more from you.”
Keiji sighs. He looks from Kuroo, to the ladder, and back to Kuroo again. “If I fall…” he says.
“You won’t,” Kuroo says immediately.
Keiji offers him a wry smile. “Then I guess I won’t tell you that I love you then,” he retorts, and takes a few steps back while Kuroo’s mouth hangs open in shock.
“A—Angel!” Kuroo calls, but Keiji’s already running, already praying that his legs will carry him where he needs to go, already…
And just like that, he hits the end of the roof, and jumps…
And reaches out his hands…
And just barely catches the bottom of the ladder with his gloves.
Keiji sighs. He’s swinging badly, but he made it. Quickly, he scrambles up the ladder and into the safety of the helicopter, where Kenma is scowling at him.
“You really like to live on the edge, don’t you?” he asks as the door to the top of the building clangs open. Guards are pouring through; Keiji gasps, but Kuroo’s already running, already leaping, and he expertly reaches out and grabs the middle of the rope ladder (which, how did he do that? Was he a high jumper in high school or something?), then shouts out “Let’s go!” and Kenma grunts out a series of swears, but pulls the helicopter up and away as the guards open fire.
“Get him up here!” Kenma hisses, but Keiji’s already there, hauling up the ladder as fast as he can, until that annoyingly handsome face is directly in front of him again. Keiji grabs Kuroo by the shoulders and pulls him into the helicopter, Kuroo landing heavily on him as they fall back into the safety of the cab.
They’re both panting from exertion, but of course Kuroo has to pause to grin down at him. “You do care,” he says, his eyes fond even as he’s smirking at Keiji.
Keiji huffs, tries to push Kuroo off him, but Kuroo holds him fast and kisses him, hard and deep and long. Keiji’s body relaxes beneath him, and he can feel Kuroo smile against his mouth.
“I did tell you,” Keiji grumbles, “ that I…”
But once again, he doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because Kuroo’s kissing him again, and if Keiji thought he was breathless before, he definitely is now.
“Love you too,” Kuroo laughs, and Keiji can’t help but laugh, as well.
“Will you two stop fucking around and close that door?!” Kenma barks. “I wanna get the fuck out of here before we’re tracked.”
“Oh, shit.” Kuroo’s off Keiji in an instant, and Keiji misses his weight, his warmth, but he hops to his feet and helps Kuroo shut the door, Kuroo pressing a kiss into his hair as they tug it shut. When the door slams, they both breathe a sigh of relief, then Kuroo’s reaching into Keiji’s jacket, and for a moment, he’s forgotten why.
“Trying to feel me up?” Keiji teases, but Kuroo’s already got the pouch out of Keiji’s pocket, and he and Kuroo go over to Kenma, who’s already steering them beyond the city and limits and out over the ocean and into international space.
“The next best thing,” Kuroo answers with a wry grin, and he opens the pouch slowly.
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Kenma snaps. “Let’s see it!”
Kuroo pauses, then hands the pouch to Keiji. “You should do the honors, Angel,” he murmurs.
Keiji tuts at him. “Tetsurō, you don’t have to use that name here.”
But Kuroo’s just staring at him, brilliant hazel eyes shining blue and green and gold, and Keiji sighs affectionately. He doesn’t respond, and instead reaches into the pouch and pulls out the diamond.
“Whoa,” Kuroo mumbles, leaning in close to take a look.
“Holy shit,” Kenma swears, nearly taking his hands off the steering column in his surprise. “That’s fifty carats, huh?”
“May I?” Kuroo asks, and Keiji nods, handing the diamond over to his partner.
Kuroo turns it over delicately in his hand. “I’ll have to use my equipment at HQ to confirm,” he says, “but fifty carats, nearly flawless, and look at the richness of color here!” He whistles and hands it back to Keiji. “It’s truly a stunning piece.”
“Do you have a buyer lined up already?” Keiji asks Kenma.
He nods. “I do,” he says, “but…”
“But what?” Keiji asks.
Kenma just hums. “Going to explore our options,” is all that he says. “You two should take a seat. Shōyō’s meeting us at the rendezvous point.”
“Say no more,” Kuroo says, sliding into the seat beside Kenma and putting on a pair of headphones. He looks at Keiji and grins; Keiji takes a seat behind them both.
It’s an unconventional life, Keiji knows, living in hotels and on helicopters and speedboats. Always on the run; never able to stop to take a breath for fear of being caught, of the world crashing down around them.
It’s also a life Keiji wouldn’t trade for any other, not when he gets to spend his days with his best friend and his nights in the arms of his lover. And there may come a time that this world, this life, that they don’t seem interesting or exciting, that the rush of the run is usurped by the desire to settle down.
When that day comes, Keiji’s sure that Kuroo will stay by his side, just like he’s done now for years.
Until then, though…
He looks at the diamond again, holds it up in the light, watches it sparkle, and is reminded of the shifting prisms of color in Kuroo’s eyes.
Maybe someday they’ll settle down in a big traditional home with tatami mat floors and an engawa and a pond out front, but for now?
This life, he knows, is pretty perfect.