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Oikawa and Iwaizumi live in a one-storey home with one bathroom, two bedrooms, a small kitchen and a white picket fence which surrounds the entire place. It was Oikawa’s dream house and he had insisted on moving in the moment he had laid eyes on it. Iwaizumi had been reluctant at first, though he later jumped on board with the idea. It was in a relatively quiet area with no snooping neighbours or troublesome teens – the kind of place where no one would notice how the two always arrived home during bizarre hours, most of the time covered in blood and grit. It was the perfect place for the two and they couldn’t be happier.
“God, I hate this house!”
Iwaizumi paused mid-bite and let out a sigh. He sat back in his chair, dropping his half-eaten toast on his plate. It was always like this whenever they were due on a mission. He patted the crumbs off his hands, eyeing the kitchen door. ‘Three.. two.. on-‘
The door slammed open with an agitated Oikawa bustling through. “I swear the god this house is the worst. You place something in one spot, it’s gone the next!”
Iwaizumi stared blankly, as he chewed. “What have you lost this time?”
“I didn’t lose it!” his husband hissed, running his hands through his hair. “I swear I put it on the windowsill in our livingroom and now I can’t find it. Have you seen where the camera watch has gone? The dark grey one with the silver casing.”
“Oh, that one,” Iwaizumi picked up his toast again to take another bite. “I put that in your suitcase already.”
“Wh- Iwa-chan!” Oikawa exasperated. “I’ve been looking for it for the past ten minutes!”
“Sorry,” his husband replied in an unapologetic tone. “Didn’t know you were looking for it.”
Oikawa sighed deeply, shooting him a grumpy look. “Why aren’t you packing yet? Our ride is coming in twelve minutes!”
“I already packed,” Iwaizumi replied nonchalantly. “Unlike you, I don’t feel the need to overpack every trip. I have all my bare essentials.”
“What? How have you packed everything? You’re going undercover too! Are you sure you’ve gotten everything?”
“Mm.”
“What about your fake ID?”
“Got it.”
“Grip shoes?”
“In the suitcase.”
“Contact lenses?”
Iwaizumi tapped the left pocket of his black vest. “All ready to go.”
Oikawa frowned, placing a hand on his hip. “What about your character profile?”
Iwaizumi opened his mouth. Then closed it. He pointed over. “Okay, you got me on that one.”
His husband rolled his eyes, as he hurried out the kitchen. “I’ll put it in your luggage,” he called out. “Whereabouts is it?”
“It’s under my bedside table,” Iwaizumi replied, taking another bite of his toast. He breathed out through his nose, chewing thoughtfully. Then froze. “Oikawa!” He called out. There was no reply. Iwaizumi felt a sudden rush of anxiety and he stood abruptly, edging around the kitchen table. “Oikawa, wait! I just remembered I put it in my bag. You don’t have t-“ He stopped, body stilled at the sight of his husband standing by the kitchen door.
“What’s wrong, Hajime?” he asked, placing a hand on his hip. Caramel-coloured eyes sharpened and he stared accusingly. “Why you suddenly so jumpy, hm?”
“Uh,” Iwaizumi eyed the other, the sinking feeling setting in. He let out a heavy sigh and held both hands out in surrender. “Okay, we should just talk about this like civilised adults.”
“Just talk about it?” Oikawa tilted his head, raising his eyebrow. “You want to talk? Okay, fine we’ll talk. So tell me,” He lifted up the familiar object in front of him. “What is the PPK 380 doing in the house?”
Iwaizumi’s eyes zeroed in on the way Oikawa was dangling it loosely by his pinky. “Well, uh, actually that one’s a funny story. The clean up staff picked it up and I decided to stop by the evidence unit just to admire it, note I said admire not steal. But the staff at HQ offered it to me. Y’know, as a thank you gift for doing so well on our last mission. Or, well, you doing so well. Did so great babe- don’t hold it like that,” He took a step closer, blinking in alarm as his husband swung it around casually.
Oikawa stared blankly as he continued to spin it through his index finger. “Hm. I’m pretty sure I said no more guns in the house, Iwa-chan. And my face is up here.”
Iwaizumi forced his eyes away from the golden gun, shooting Oikawa an exasperated look. “Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hide it from you. It’s just they’re so rare to come by and I knew if I didn’t take it they would’ve given it to some amateur. Like Kuroo or someone,” Iwaizumi took another step toward Oikawa. “Forgive me?”
He was biting his lower lip, brows knitted together in his signature puppy face. It was the kind of expression which although was meant to look cute, just made him look so damn sexy – the one which his husband always caved in to.
But he wasn’t having it. Not today. Oikawa observed the other for several moments before nodding in affirmation. “Okay, I forgive you for not telling me,” he decided, grabbing hold of the gun properly. “I’ll take this to HQ for them to sort out.”
“What?” Iwaizumi stared blankly. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope,” Oikawa smiled widely. He reached over to pat the other on the cheek. “Not kidding. I’ve placed your profile in the front pocket of your ba-“ he stepped back lightly when Iwaizumi darted forward, arms lunged out. Iwaizumi kicked his leg out swiftly. Oikawa leapt over, landing silently and lifted his arm to block the sharp blow. He spun the gun so it was pointed downwards and tucked it in his back pocket. Iwaizumi double-stepped to the right, reaching over but Oikawa stuck his arm out to push him away. He took two skips back, widening the distance.
Iwaizumi snarled in irritation, shooting his husband a dirty look. “Seriously? I wasn’t even going to use it or anything!”
“More the better reason to return it to HQ. We’ll find someone who can take special care of it,” Oikawa flashed a sweet smile at a disgruntled Iwaizumi. Before neither could say another word, there was the faint sound of gravel crunching as their ride slid in to their driveway. “Oh god, it’s time to go!” Oikawa shrieked, rushing out the kitchen. “Come on, Iwa-chan help me carry the bags!”
Iwaizumi scowled as he stormed out to the bedroom, picking up his small dufflebag and tossing it over his shoulder. He marched past completely ignoring Oikawa’s luggage.
“Oh, wow. Wowww! You’re acting like a child who got his toy taken away. Real mature, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa grumbled, stuffing the remaining gadgets in to his carrybag and hurrying out.
⚜
It had taken a silent car trip, tension-ed jet ride and a final identity check for Iwaizumi to start talking to Oikawa again. And only because he had no choice - they were on a B rank mission tonight and as much as he wanted to cold shoulder the hell out of his husband, a mission was a mission and he was a professional.
"It feels like a part of me has died. And it's because of you."
"Iwa-chan, you're overdramatic. I'm sure you can survive without it. Besides, you have eight at home! That's more than enough."
"But it's a Gold PPK 380, Oikawa. Only three existing in the world. Does that mean nothing to you?"
"Oh my god, how is that- okay, you know what? You're right. This is my fault. This is what I get for letting you have your way. I've spoiled you and now this is my punishment."
Iwaizumi grit his teeth in irritation and smoothed his hair back. "Why does it feel like a two-way punishment then?" He glanced around, tilting his head back to take another sip of his martini.
He was at the Royal Gardens Ball, an exclusive annual event of fine music and dining with some of the most powerful business owners in Japan. The air was filled with sweet hums and melodies of a nearby string quartet alongside enormous chandeliers that lit up the entire chamber. By now most of the guests had arrived, each looking like a million bucks. And that’s what it was all about, really. A night to outclass one another with trophy wives and build potential business alliances. Iwaizumi suppressed a scoff. He'd rather be at home. With his PPK.
He took another sip, leaning back against the stair railings. It was warm tonight and he found himself tugging at the collar of his shirt.
"Iwa-chan, stop that. You're going to ruin another suit," Oikawa's voice echoed in his ear.
It was usually the other way around; Oikawa going undercover and Iwaizumi dictating orders from afar. It was easier that way.
Oikawa overflowed with charisma and carried with him a certain charm which made it easy for him to blend in to target groups. Iwaizumi, on the other hand had a keen eye paired with a near-photographic memory, making it more appropriate for him to keep on the look out.
But tonight was an exception.
Iwaizumi had been assigned to guard the target for the evening. News had it there were possible unwanted guests sneaking in tonight and she was to be protected at all costs.
"We need someone with a.. more ordinary face tonight," their director had explained. He was staring pointedly at Iwaizumi, who in return was pointedly avoiding Oikawa's gleeful grin. "The last thing we want is to attract any attention to ourselves, understand?"
“I don't know what it is but feel like I’m forgetting something.”
Iwaizumi blinked, his grumpiness momentarily forgotten. “Did you pack everything?”
“Yeah, I did, I brought everything. Did you turn the stove off?”
“You know I always check,” Iwaizumi paused, frowning in contemplation. “Did you bring the washing in?”
“Darn it! I knew I was forgetting something! What if it rains tonight?” Oikawa whined.
Iwaizumi took a sip of his martini, ducking his head to peer out at the open balcony. “Looks pretty clear to me.”
"But we're hours away from home. I think the news said it would sprinkle tonight."
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. "Well, if the news said it would then it would. Nothing you can control," He paused before adding "You know what you can control though? Your agreement to the gun. C'mon, I swear you'll never see it in your sight again. All you have to do is say yes."
There was a faint sigh on the other line and Oikawa's sulky voice ringing in his ear. “Iwa-chan, I'm not going to change my mind. You have far too ma- subject at ten o’clock.”
Iwaizumi paused, glancing over to his left. The subject was a young woman, most likely in her late twenties. She had a slim, beautiful face with her hair neatly pulled back in a loose bun. She was wearing a striking-red dress which accentuated her curves, leaving hardly anything to the imagination. Iwaizumi eyed her top to bottom, lingering at the sharp cut on the side which rode up to her inner thighs before taking another sip.
“Um, excuse me, Iwa-chan.”
“What?”
“Don’t think I didn’t see that.”
Iwaizumi swivelled his martini, allowing the small olive to roll about. He glanced over to the dance floor. “See what?”
“You were ogling her!” Oikawa’s indignant tone rang in his ear.
“I’m just making sure I don’t lose sight.”
There was a light scoff on the other line. “Right, sure. I’m sure that’s what it is.”
“You know, this would be infinitely better if I had the PPK with me,” Iwaizumi muttered. “The least you could do is let me use it once tonight.”
“Absolutely not,” Oikawa’s voice called. “Knowing you, you’re going to hide it somewhere then come back for it later when I’m not looking. Married for two years and you still think I’m that naïve?”
Iwaizumi stuck his lower lip out in contemplation, gaze darting over to the woman again. She was leaning against the bar watching other party attendees waltz on the court floors.
“You sure you don’t want to change your mind?” he murmured lowly, swirling the martini in its glass. “One last chance.”
He heard Oikawa huff to himself. “Iwa-chan, I love you far too much to let you do this to yourself. Consider yourself privileged."
Iwaizumi nodded. He tilted the rest of his drink in one go and placed it on the nearby table. He strolled toward the bar, back straightened and he ran a casual hand through his hair.
“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa’s voice rang lowly in the ear piece. “What are you- Iwa-chan?”
“Hi there,” Iwaizumi spoke coolly, as he stood at the bar. The subject’s gaze drifted slowly toward him as though she was expecting him. Iwaizumi flashed an easy smile.
The woman paused, looking him up and down. She leaned in and smiled widely. “Hello.”
“What do you think you’re doing, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa sounded slightly terse and Iwaizumi could imagine his mouth tight.
He ignored him, lifting a hand to bring the bartender over. “Martini for myself and a champagne for the lady," he called without taking his eyes off the other.
The subject looked pleased, resting her elbow on the counter to examine him carefully. Iwaizumi tossed over his fake card on to the table and smiled over at the other. He leaned in close, mouth hovering over her ear. “Lovely weather tonight.”
“Did you seriously just- Iwa-chan, don’t. I mean it. You do not want to go down this path,” Oikawa was growing further and further agitated and Iwaizumi allowed himself a momentary smugness.
The woman smiled back, fingers thrumming on the bar counter. “Yes,” She was eyeing Iwaizumi with little shame. “Very lovely.”
“Oh wow. Wow!” Oikawa sounded downright angry now. “Walk away now! Right now.”
Iwaizumi nodded, taking another step closer. He was thankful for the music flowing throughout the hallways, otherwise the subject could’ve heard Oikawa going wild on the line. “Iwa-chan, I get you’re mad- She’s getting too close! Tell her to back off! I get you’re mad at me from earlier but I mean it. Don’t you dare-”
“Your order, sir.”
Iwaizumi turned, accepting the drinks from the bartender. “Thank you,” he passed the champagne over to the other. “Your drink, ma’am,” He even allowed their fingers to brush and he slung a casual arm over her hip, tugging her to his side. The woman giggled in surprise, wrapping a light hand on his shoulder.
Iwaizumi could practically hear Oikawa frothing at this point.
“Iwaizumi Hajime, you are a dead man. Just wait till we get home.”
“Is there something funny?”
Iwaizumi glanced over at the lady watching him. “I just can’t believe I've met such a pretty girl tonight.”
Her laughter was like a faint tinkle. She fluttered her eyelashes sweetly, pink lips pulled in to a dainty smile. "Then may this 'pretty girl' ask what your name is?"
"Hayato Koite," Iwaizumi replied easily. "From the Johzenji firm."
The lady ahh-ed lightly, eyes twinkling. "Excellent agency too. How admirable," She leaned in very close, their noses almost brushing. "Well, Koite. May I ask if you came alone tonight? Or perhaps you've brought another 'business' partner?"
Iwaizumi could feel Oikawa's hawk-like gaze set on the back of his skull and he allowed himself a few moments to soak in the tension. He flashed a sad smile and shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm a lone wolf."
There was a sharp squawk in his earpiece and it took everything in him not to crack a genuine grin. The target blinked slowly as though she too was surprised. "All this time and no one has reeled you in? My my, I am lucky tonight," She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she eyed him down once more.
"Don't look at him like that! Iwa-chan ain't some piece of meat, you vulture!"
Oikawa sounded livid, hysterical even. And it was like he couldn’t decide who he was more furious at. "That is the most skimpiest dress I’ve ever- stop letting her touch you! Hajime!"
Iwaizumi took another sip, eyes skimming over the glass to glance out at the view. As amusing as this was, he hadn't forgotten why he was here. He could still identify the vast majority of the guests here, emersed casual conversations with one another. The catering staff were busy, bustling through the crowds to offer appetizers and other beverages to their guests. The small courtroom size it made it much easier to spot out any suspicious or unfamiliar individuals. So far, so good. Iwaizumi let out an affirmative nod, satisfied there were no immediate dangers. He blinked at the sudden brush against the side of his face and found himself being redirected back to the other.
She smiled sweetly, running her fingertips down his neck, trailing his adam’s apple before resting firmly against on his chest. Iwaizumi heard a sharp inhale from his earpiece.
“It’s getting rather dull this evening,” the lady pouted cutely. She leaned in, brushing her lips against his ear as she did so. From here, Oikawa could probably hear her whisper. “Perhaps we should go elsewhere?” she suggested softly.
“Hajime. There is an emergency in the bathroom."
Iwaizumi hummed in consideration. He tilted back to finish off his drink. “Did you want me to go now?”
“Yes,” they both replied, one sly, the other furious.
He nodded and turned to place his glass on the counter. He smiled politely at the other. “Excuse me.”
He was about to leave when he was pulled back abruptly and felt a soft press on his cheek. He blinked over at the woman who tilted her head slightly to the right. The loose strands of hair waved across gently. “Don’t take too long,” she murmured, lashed up eyes watching him hungrily.
“Iwa-chan, you better get in that bathroom before I come in and shoot everyone at this damn event.”
Iwaizumi flashed his teeth as he slipped from her grasp, shoes clacking as he wormed his way through the crowds and easily dodged the waiters. He strolled to the bathroom, glancing over discreetly to confirm no one was following. He opened the door… just in time to find the restroom attendant collapse on the ground.
He peered up at Oikawa who had swung in through the bathroom window. And he looked thoroughly pissed.
“Great going, Tooru. What are you going to do if someone walks in now?” Iwaizumi asked in a blank expression, trying hard to hold in his amusement.
“They’re going to think he fell asleep on his job because he is terrible at it and isn’t doing as he is told!” Oikawa snapped back. “Sound familiar to you, Iwa-chan?”
“No, not really,” Iwaizumi replied, shrugging nonchalantly. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
If looks could kill, Iwaizumi would have died at least six times by now. Oikawa’s eyes were wide and livid, and he looked two seconds away from grabbing the nearby cologne and beating it over his head.
“Don’t you dare let her touch you again or I swear to god, the mobster will be the last of her worries tonight.”
Iwaizumi bit his lip to suppress his laugh. He couldn’t help it – his husband was frightening when he was furious but it was so damn funny at the same time. For once, Iwaizumi had the upper hand. And it was exhilarating.
He hummed, making a show of looking around. “So, where’s the emergency then?” he asked. “It looks like a false alarm so I’m going to head out again,” He turned the tap on to wash his hands. “Oh, and can I just say, this wouldn’t have happened if you let me keep the PPK,” he flashed a sharp grin at his husband and held a hand out. “Pass me a cloth, why don’t you?”
Oikawa tightened his lips and lunged over. He bumped in to his husband’s shoulder roughly as he grabbed several towlettes nearby and grabbed Iwaizumi’s face.
“Wh- ow! What are you- ouch, stop,” Iwaizumi growled, jerking back when his husband scrubbed at his left cheek.
“You have pi- stay still! You have pink lipstick on your face! What kind of professional walks around with this gunk smeared on their cheek? Distasteful!” Oikawa hissed, pulling back to dangle the dirty tissue in front of him.
Iwaizumi glanced over at the mirror, only to do a double-take. “God damn it- Oikawa!” he barked, brows scrunched angrily. “It looks like you scrubbed my entire cheek off! She’ll think I did it on purpose!”
His husband leaned in, large caramel eyes examining the bright red blotch then blinking innocently up at him. “Oh? I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that,” he leapt back skilfully, one arm gripping on the bathroom window sill. “Or, well, then again. This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t take the PPK,” he imitated in his husband’s voice.
“She’s going to avoid me the rest of the night!”
“I’m sure you’ll manage.”
“Oikawa, if this mission is a bust, I swear to god-“
“I have faith in you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa blew two kisses over before he leaned back and allowed himself to drop from the window sill.
Iwaizumi let out a frustrated snarl and lunged for one of the towelettes to pelt at his husband on the way down. There was a sudden creak and he froze, head turned to peer over his shoulder.
An elderly man (Masayuki Oue, chairman of the top motor corporation) paused at the door, blinking over at him. He dropped his gaze to find the bathroom attendant crumpled on the floor, then looked back up at him.
Iwaizumi pulled his hand back slowly and shrugged. He pointed his thumb over at the unconscious man and tutted. “They’re not built the way we are,” he muttered, chin tilted upward as he regarded him in a disdainful manner.
The man scoffed, shaking his head. “Only the strong-willed,” he agreed.
Iwaizumi nodded understandingly. He straightened his back, sauntering out of the bathroom with a cool expression. He casual gaze flickered over the crowds, somewhat satisfied that the coast was still clear. There was a slight static rustle in his ear from which he presumed was Oikawa putting his headset back on.
“No imminent dangers so far.”
“Just wait till we get home.”
“Hey!” Oikawa made an indignant noise. “If anything, I should be angry, not you!”
Iwaizumi didn’t reply, heading straight back to the target. She was trailing her finger over the rim of her glass, glancing up occasionally. They met eyes and she burst in to a wide smile, as though relieved at the sight of him. However, it faltered when her eyes skimmed over to his cheek.
“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” Iwaizumi replied smoothly. “Just wanted to freshen up first.”
She stared blankly at him, one elegant eyebrow poised in a sharp arc. Her eyes kept darting back and forth from his eyes to his cheek in a passive manner of saying ‘um, excuse me? What is this?’
Finally, after an excruciatingly long awkward silence she let out a sigh. “Mm,” she replied, tone short and clipped. She shifted slightly, turning away from him.
‘God damn it, Tooru,’ Iwaizumi inwardly cursed. He leaned in, just enough to be respectful but stay flirty. “What’s wrong, dove?” he asked, brows etched with concern. “Is there something wrong?”
The target glanced back at him, now with a slightly offended look. “I don’t know,” she shot back. “Is there?”
“Ouch, quite feisty, ain't she?" Oikawa commented in his ear. He sounded rather pleased. “Not as pleasant as you thought, Iwa-chan.”
Iwaizumi grit his teeth before smoothing back his hair. He leaned back to rest against the bar. “Would you like to g-“
“I would like some space,” she interrupted. She flashed a sweet smile at him, batting her eyelashes. “If you don’t mind.”
“Just go, Iwa-chan. Keep an eye on her from afar,” Oikawa advised, far too eagerly for Iwaizumi’s liking.
He let out a sigh and nodded. “My apologies. I didn’t intend to come off as rude,” He offered a curt bow. “Have a lovely evening.”
The target raised her glass of champagne. “Same with yourself,” she replied with a hint of sarcasm and turned to face her back toward him.
Iwaizumi froze for a millisecond then reached out. He clasped a warm hand over her forearm. The woman jolted in surprise before shooting him an outraged look. “What do you think you’re doing? Get off-“ she let out a shocked squeal when Iwaizumi pulled her close to his chest.
There was a loud clatter as Oikawa must’ve stood up abruptly. “Hajime!”
Iwaizumi ignored him, leaning in closely toward the lady, so close his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. “I hope you’ll forgive me,” he apologised, plucking the drink from her grasp. His right arm wrapped across her back with a firm hold on her hip. “You do seem like a lovely lady.” And without warning he spun sharply.
In a swift, fluid motion he covered her with his body and he flipped to his left. He flung her as hard as he could and she skidded perfectly under one of the buffet tables.
Iwaizumi spun abruptly to the bar and lunged the champagne over at the bartender.
The effect was immediate.
The man let out a sharp howl as the liquid splashed over his skin, melting it at a rapid rate. Iwaizumi shoved a hand in his inner jacket, flipping out a pistol. “Tooru, where?” he demanded, thumb flicking the safety switch off.
“Four o’clock, the tan-skinned waiter.”
Iwaizumi snapped over and pulled the trigger. The man was in the midst of reaching for his gun but Iwaizumi bested him, shooting him directly in between his eyes. His head exploded, spraying the wall with a thick red behind him.
The sharp bang caused complete havoc as guests screamed and everyone scrambled for cover. Iwaizumi leapt behind a table, ducking just in time as bullets whizzed past his ear.
“Hajime, three-thirty, the blonde waiter.”
Iwaizumi propped his gun up and shot the man twice in the chest. He stumbled around dumbly for several moments until he collapsed to the ground.
“There should be four targets. So far, three. See anyone?”
“Not yet. You need to wrap it up though, the security guards are filling in. Our subject should be fine now.”
“So is that a dismissal?” Iwaizumi asked. He knelt lower, unclicking the button on the side of the pistol. The cartridge slid out and he reloaded it swiftly, locking it back into place in one smooth motion. “Exit route A or D?”
“Go with C. But wait a few moments just in case.”
Iwaizumi nodded as he eyed the chaotic scene before him. Something shifted from the corner of his eye and he immediately spun to his right, gun held up in front of him.
“Oh my god, don’t shoot! Please don’t shoot!” the woman cried out in alarm. She cowered in to a tight ball with her hands held over her face. Her hair was a muddled mess and there was a faint streak of lipstick which ran down her chin. “I’m not one of them, I swear! Please don’t shoot!”
Iwaizumi suppressed a snort, lowering his gun a fraction. “I know, I was hired to do the exact opposite. Stay down and stay hidden.”
The woman stared wide-eyed at him. She didn’t speak, just watching him with a strange look on her face.
“What?” Iwaizumi glanced over the table then back at her. “Why you looking at me like that? What is it?” He froze, gaze dropping to her lips. They were wobbling slightly and he inwardly groaned. ‘Don’t tell me..’
The target dropped her head and burst in to tears.
“Dear god, for such a petite thing she sure makes a lot of noise.”
“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi scolded but grimaced when the wailing grew louder. Jees, it was like his ears were being assaulted. “Hey,” Iwaizumi reached over, wiping a tear from her eye. “C’mon now, no more of that.”
She bawled hard, fat tears streaming down her face. It was not a pretty sight. Iwaizumi leaned back and sighed.
He patted his chest, slipping a hand in his jacket to pull out a small handkerchief. He almost dropped it at the sudden shriek.
“Iwa-chan, I gave that to you as a gift! Don’t you dare give it to her!”
“Christ, Tooru. Now you're being childish," Iwaizumi groused, rubbing his sore ear. He peered up to find the woman had stopped crying, now watching him with slight curiosity.
"Here,” he called, tossing the cloth over. “You need this more than I do.”
She accepted it, dabbing at her already make-up smeared eyed. “Thank you,” she sniffled.
Iwaizumi couldn’t help but smile. “My pleasure,” He placed a careful hand on her shoulder, forcing direct eye contact. “Now, I want you to just stay here, understand? Don’t move. Security is on their way so I’ll leave you to them. I still have some businesses to attend to. ”
He pulled back but was stopped again.
The woman hesitated, a red tint over her cheeks. “But what about you? What if you get hurt?”
“Oh please. Worry about yourself first,” Oikawa’s disgruntled voice rang. “The last time we need is a her- Hajime, behind you!”
“Look out!” the woman screamed almost immediately after and Iwaizumi spun around, shooting four successive rounds.
The target stuttered about. He stood there with a stunned expression and his gun slipped from his grasp. He took a wobbly step forward before dropping face-first in to the marbled floor.
Iwaizumi hardly spared him a glance as he frowned down at the gun in his hand. “What a terrible design,” he muttered in disapproval and strapped it to his left shoulder houlster. “The weight of this thing is so unevenly distributed I felt myself shooting too low.”
“You’re such a perfectionist. You got him four times, Iwa-chan. Be happy with that.”
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes at his husband’s reasoning. He paused at a ragged sound and peered over his shoulder. The subject was slumped on her knees, chest heaving up and down as she stared wide-eyed at the messy body. This mission was turning out to be more of a job than he had initially anticipated. Iwaizumi stared for a brief moment then shook his head. “Alright then, c’mon,” He reached over and wrapped an arm over her back and the other behind her knees, easily lifting her bridal style.
She kept breathing hard, body trembling. “I.. I I can’t.. he jus.. just..what..”
“Hey, hey,” Iwaizumi interrupted. He marched over to the balcony of the far west, dodging screaming guests who ran the opposite direction. “You’re having a panic attack. Just breathe. Slowly. Inhale, then exhale. Yeah, just like that.”
The two were greeted by cool, crisp air which rustled through their hair. The woman had begun to calm down, though still clutching on to Iwaizumi’s shirt like her life depended on it. Iwaizumi continued to murmur soft, encouraging words as he held her tightly in his arms.
Iwaizumi heard an irritated scoff in his earpiece but paid no mind. When they’d made it outside, he gently lowered her down. "Stay here. You're now safe now."
The agent immediately began to make his way to exit route C. He spent far too long here and needed to get out as soon as possible. The place was going to be swarming with cops soon.
“Wait! Please don’t leave!”
Iwaizumi glanced over his shoulder to find the target watching him pleading eyes. She looked like she had been dragged across the ground, hair disheveled and dress torn on the side. She was still heaving lightly but her eyes shone in the moonlight. “You saved me,” she breathed in faint awe. "I am forever in your debt."
Iwaizumi watched her, then smiled. “Consider it a free gesture,” He bowed politely, only to be yanked in by the back of his neck and given a sudden smooch.
“Consider that a free gesture,” she replied smoothly, lips still ghosting his.
It was brief, a mere touch of lips but he could already feel Oikawa's wrath.
"I'm going to have to kill her.” Iwaizumi heard his husband rumble in the earpiece.
He let out an awkward huff and pulled back. “I need to get going then,” he inclined his head and turned toward the outer balcony. Iwaizumi stepped up on to the ledge.
"Hayato Koite."
He paused, a light hesitation.
The woman watched him with uncharacteristic calm. There were sounds of faint cries and chaos still ensued inside the ballroom behind them. She adjusted her dress, pulling it up to cover her chest.
“W-who are you, really?” she murmured lowly.
Iwaizumi peered over his shoulder oncemore. “Have a safe night,” he murmured, smiling as he allowed himself to tip over the edge.
⚜
He let out a soft grunt when he hit the hard leather seats and there was the loud screech of tyres as the car zoomed in to action. He sat up just in time to see the target rush over to peer at him with surprise. Her silhouette shrank as the car accelerated away from the scene, through the thick hedges, and in to the dark outskirts of the greenery.
Iwaizumi let out a hiss, placing a hand over his right shoulder. It was the first region to hit the car seat, receiving the full brunt of the force. It tweaked in pain but he's had much worse. The car suddenly swerved sharply to the left and he collided in to the glove department, raking his forehead roughly against the hard frame. "Ow, take it easy, Tooru," Iwaizumi grumbled but there was no reply. He peered over in question.
Oikawa was gritting his teeth, eyes dark as he focused on the road. He swerved past cars filled with guests who were also more than eager to leave the ball.
Iwaizumi felt a ball of unease build in his gut. A silent Oikawa was never a good sign - It was like a time bomb waiting to explode in his face. "Hey, you alright?" he asked slowly.
Oikawa glanced over for a brief second before turning back to the road. "I don't want to talk about it."
They had gone through a shortcut and were now driving in deep forestry. They had been ordered to drive further down before abandoning the vehicle for it to be later picked up by the HQ staff. Iwaizumi sat upright in the passenger seat, massaging his right shoulder. "Alright," he replied. He often found it was best to let it be until his husband had cooled his head.
There was a loud screech as the car jerked to a halt. Iwaizumi shot his arms out to stop himself from smashing in to the dashboard again. He opened his mouth to complain again but was beat to it.
"No, not alright! I am not alright!" Oikawa exclaimed. He was shooting a full-blown glare at his husband. "Iwa-chan, that was the most awful thing you've ever done to me."
Okay, guess they were going to talk about it now. Iwaizumi stared then crossed his arms. "I guess we're even then."
"No! This is not the same situation!" Oikawa unclicked his seatbelt and shifted to face the other. "I confiscated a gun for your benefit. You two-timed on me the entire night."
"Half the night."
"Iwa-chan, I'm serious!" Oikawa grabbed a tight hold of his arm. "Promise me you'll never do that again! You need to promise right here, right now."
“Christ, for someone who gets chased by hundreds of girls, you can be pretty damn needy,” Iwaizumi muttered as Oikawa clung insistently on his arm.
“It’s not hundreds! You always exaggerate, stupid Iwa-chan,” Oikawa lamented, giving the other a solid punch on the chest. “Why are you always so mean to me? How come you never treat me like you treat girls?"
"Because girls should be treated with respect," Iwaizumi replied easily. "Everyone knows that."
"What, and I don't?" Oikawa demanded, beginning to hit the sulking stage. "I’ve never felt so humiliated in my entire life! It’s like you didn’t even want me. Or maybe you don’t,” he muttered bitterly, arms crossed as he looked away from the other. He was chewing his inside cheek which was always a sign he was genuinely upset.
Iwaizumi eyed his husband in the corner of his eye and let out a sigh. Okay, it was funny before but now he just felt guilty. He reached over, curling his hand over the nape of Oikawa’s neck. His blunt nails dug in to the back of his husband’s neck and he maneuvered Oikawa's face toward him . "Hey, look at me."
He didn't look, eyes focused on something to his left. Iwaizumi stared hard for several moments then huffed and shook his head. “Tooru, I feel like sometimes you get so lost in your own thoughts and insecurities that forget to see why we're here."
Oikawa was still refusing to look at him. Iwaizumi frowned. He dropped his hand from the other's neck, letting it fall to caress his shoulder.
"You know I love you, right? Because you’re tough. Tough as nails. And I refuse to accept anything else from my partner. I treat you rough because I know you can handle it," He stared at Oikawa with a serious expression. His husband glanced over, meeting his gaze.
"I want someone who's my equal, someone who can challenge me and keep me on my toes. You think I'm going to be satisfied with someone who can't even handle a simple situation and burst in to tears at the mere sight of blood? Don't be stupid." Iwaizumi cradled Oikawa's face in between both hands as he frowned at him.
"You want to know who I married instead? A strong, caring, sometimes childish, but otherwise completely selfless man. Remember that I've chosen you just as you’ve chosen me. I’m your partner and don’t you forget it,” Iwaizumi’s steel-blue eyes glinted in the darkness. “I’m with you till the very end. Ride or die.”
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispered. His eyes had were wide and shone in the darkness. He swallowed hard, shaking his head in a jerky nod. “Me too. Ride or die.”
Iwaizumi’s lips curled up in to a crooked smile, his eyes focused on nothing but Oikawa. He shook his head and cuffed the other lightly on the head. “Are you crying right now? Are you seriously crying? Tooru, that’s embarrassing. I bet the staff at HQ are judging you right now.”
“Shut up,” Oikawa whimpered, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I don’t care if they watch. They can judge all they want, I don’t care.”
Iwaizumi snorted. “You’re such a baby,” he murmured, staring in to Oikawa’s light, watery eyes. “My baby.”
He reached up, wiping his husband’s tears with the sleeve of his shirt. “Well, I gotta maintain my status as the ‘tough commander’ so if you really don’t care, feel free to cry in my arms,” He let out a surprised laughter when Oikawa smacked him squarely in the stomach.
“You’re so mean to me! So, so mean! ” he wailed in distress. “You’d never let me off if I did something like that to you! I was going to let you keep the PPK but you know what? I change my mind!”
“Okay, okay, c’mere,” Iwaizumi replied in an instant, pulling Oikawa in for a tight hug. His broad shoulders curled over as he wrapped his thick arms around him. “Shh, don’t cry now. It’s okay, baby.”
“How stupid do you think I am? I’m not going to change my mind!” Oikawa grumbled, hiccupping slightly as he melted in to his husband’s arms. “I’m not that easy.”
“I love you.”
“… I love you too.”
