Chapter Text
“I’m going to need a visual on corridor 3A-Beta, Scar knee.”
“Pinging through to your watch now, Green eyes.” Oikawa’s voice through the audio transmitter in Iwaizumi’s ear is followed by a vibration around his wrist, letting him know that his ‘watch’ has been updated with the building schematics, focussing on the corridor he specified. The watch is actually a holographic database, stored with thousands of images to assist Iwaizumi in his tasks, Oikawa guiding him from the communication hub with technical prowess and beyond-amazing skills at digging out information at lightning speeds. Originally, he had complained about not being a field agent with his partner, but a bullet to the knee on a low ranking mission – his first one - had ruined that chance, and he’d found value as Iwaizumi’s partner from the outside hacking in.
Iwaizumi slips through the corridors like he belongs, a ninja in the shadows with only the soft blue glow of the hologram betraying his position. He covers it as much as he can with his sleeve, only exposing it when he needs to check a route.
“Two heat signatures approaching from your left, GE.” Iwaizumi takes a few steps backwards to find a curtain that appeared royal purple during the day, draped down from the ceilings to cover the grand window that almost spans the entire wall. He tugs it experimentally then jumps whilst holding onto it. The curtain rail holds. It might be his only way out, even if it hadn’t looked so promising. Iwaizumi scales the curtain halfway up, until he can rest his feet on the silk sash that holds the curtain back during the day.
He stills just as he hears two voices speaking lowly in murmurs that he can’t identify thanks to their quietness, approaching from the direction Oikawa told him. Taking in a deep breath, Iwaizumi keeps his eyes peeled but his mouth shut. At this point, he’s barely breathing. In fact, he’s not. He’s trained to hold his breath for fifteen minutes with ease, highly practical for making escapes or raids in water-laden environments. Or, like this situation right here, keeping himself still down to the rise of his chest, so that he cannot be detected. At least, that should be the case.
“Misjuba inti, għajnejn aħdar!” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and knows the game is up. He breathes again, as he slides down the curtain with both feet and one hand, the other pressed against his earpiece.
“SK, the rig is up.” Iwaizumi casually waltzes over to the two people, adjusting his cufflink. Then, he reaches out and playfully slaps the grinning one.
“When did you learn Maltese, Hanamaki? More importantly, when did you two get back?” Hanamaki laughs and taps the side of his nose to indicate that secrets are unspoken, whilst Matsukawa reaches out and pulls Iwaizumi into a hug that gently holds him around the waist, pressing his lips to Iwaizumi’s forehead with a small smile.
“We landed a few minutes ago. From Malta, surprise, surprise. Hey, Oikawa! Are you gonna disable the practice run yet?” There’s a sigh in Iwaizumi’s ear before a burst of static, followed by Oikawa’s voice coming from the speaker system in the practice room.
“We were just about to take over Ushiwaka and Semi’s record, thank you very much.”
“Aww, don’t be salty! Come and get a kiss!” There’s a pause before the PR shuts down and footsteps echo coming down from the command centre, then the door to the room is thrown open and Oikawa shrieks with joy as he throws himself at Hanamaki.
“Takahiro! I heard Mattsun’s voice but I didn’t know you were with him and then I said we were going to take over the record and- Your voice~! I hard your voice!” Hanamaki laughs as he wraps Oikawa in a crushing embrace, the hug returned just as tight to him. Watching their partners break into a flurry of kisses and “I love you”s, Iwaizumi smiles and feels Matsukawa – his cheek against his boyfriend’s chest - chuckle as he runs a hand through Iwaizumi’s hair. He lifts his head away to press his chin where his cheek previously was, looking up at Matsukawa with adoration.
“I’m so glad you’re back safe.”
“Mhm~. Me too. I thought you two would have departed already.”
“No, we’re going in a couple of hours. Thought we’d get some practice runs and a nap in beforehand.”
“Sounds like a solid plan. I could join you on that napping, if you don’t mind~...” Iwaizumi answers by pushing up onto his tiptoes and stealing a quick kiss, intertwining his fingers with Matsukawa’s hand and tugging him away. Hanamaki and Oikawa are still twirling around each other.
“Oi, dumbass. You’ve got the room keycard, hurry up.” Oikawa misses a step in the twirling and tumbles, but sweeping arms are there to catch him in a romantic dip, Hanamaki wriggling his eyebrows playfully. Oikawa snorts before correcting his stance and fishing in his pocket for the key.
“I always have the keycard, Iwa-chan. Ever since you lost yours in Corfu.”
“Shut up. We don’t talk about Corfu.”
“Wait, what happened in Corfu?” Matsukawa looks down at Iwaizumi in confusion, before the Agent scowls and pushes Matsukawa’s arm off his shoulders, blushing heavily. He marches off towards their room, leaving Matsukawa to blink after him feeling a bit bewildered. He turns his questioning gaze to Oikawa, pointing in the direction Iwaizumi disappeared. Oikawa wears a devious smirk and his eyes are shadowed with mischief.
“Iwa-chan was learning rooftop travelling and he slipped through a derelict roof into a vat of hot wax. I know that sounds bad, but calling in backup to chisel him out was almost as amazing as watching Noya and Terushima sculpt him into various iconic figures before letting him loose.”
“... Do you have pictures?” Oikawa’s eyes dart around to make sure no one is eavesdropping before giving Matsukawa a sly grin and two thumbs up. Hanamaki cackles.
“This, I have to see.” He loops his elbow around Oikawa’s, swinging them as they walk. Iwaizumi is waiting at the door to a room signed ‘SK & GE’. Scar Knee and Green Eyes are the codenames they use through the audio devices on missions, never allowed to use their real names. Once inside the base, however, it’s all names, nicknames, and insults right from the get go. Still, their agent codenames are engraved into the plaque on each door. Matsukawa and Hanamaki have on down the next hallway titled CF & BB. Candyfloss and Bushy Brows, lovingly bestowed on them by Oikawa the second he saw them in the same training class. Somehow, it stuck.
“Hurry up and open the door, Trashykawa. I’d like to get a nap this side of the mission.”
“As you command, old man Iwa-chan.” Oikawa receives a swift smack to the back of the head that almost knocks him over, but all he does is whine and unlock the door with the keycard. Iwaizumi is quick to grab Matsukawa’s wrist and tug him into the open area, then straight through into the bedroom. Matsukawa doesn’t complain. He and Hanamaki have been on a four month mission in Malta, their longest one without Oikawa and Iwaizumi as assistance.
And in a couple of hours, Iwaizumi and Oikawa will be departing on their own mission, somewhere in the heart of Africa, Matsukawa understands. This small window of time may be all they have. Best to use it for holding each other in their arms and reinforcing their bond. He shuts the door behind them – knowing that Oikawa and Hanamaki never nap together, when they could be doing something more fun or noisy – and follows Iwaizumi’s example of stripping to underwear. Iwaizumi flops onto the bed, holding the duvet up invitingly for Matsukawa to slip in. He nuzzles his way in, wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi safely as the duvet comes to rest down on them, bare chests pressed together and Iwaizumi’s head buried in the crook of his shoulder. Matsukawa tilts down to press a soft kiss to his forehead.
“I wish you didn’t have to leave so soon.”
“Me either... But we’re agents, Issei... Me ‘n’ you... Oikawa ‘n’ Hanamaki... We’re gonna have to keep leaving for separate missions occasionally.”
“I know, I just-... At least a whole day would have been nice.” Iwaizumi huffs in amusement, trailing a finger down a scar across Matsukawa’s chest, a remnant from one of their highest ranking joint missions. Sensing a pulse of uncertainty, Matsukawa clasps the hand formerly trailing down his chest in his own, tugging to his lips and pressing a kiss to the knuckles. Soft green eyes, with a loving expression saved only for him, watch his every move with a small smile.
“Get some rest, Hajime. The troublesome two will wake us when it’s get-ready-and-go time.”
“Okay.” The whispered reply stretches into a yawn, Iwaizumi burrowing into Matsukawa’s warm body like a kitten, and slowing his breathing to tempt sleep into his realm. In assistance, Matsukawa strokes his hand through Iwaizumi’s hair tenderly, soothingly. Sleep would come easier, of course, if it wasn’t for the ‘faint’ background noise. If Matsukawa had to guess, he’d say that Oikawa and Hanamaki had turned saucepan sets into a drum kit.
Honestly, that isn’t so far from the truth. Hanamaki is pulling pots and pans and baking trays out of a cupboard, dropping them onto the nearest counter or patch of floor. Oikawa, on the other hand, is rummaging through cupboards and the fridge to collect ingredients, placing them on a section of counter far from Hanamaki’s chaotic reach.
“I got all the pastry stuff, but we need to decide what’s going inside it.”
“Cream! Obviously. And maybe some jam.”
“Sounds more like you’re cooking for yourself, ‘Hiro.” Oikawa plays a pout towards Hanamaki, who melts like goo at the site and steals a sweet kiss.
“Well, there are rules about ‘not taking food on missions’, so...” With a roll of his eyes, Oikawa grabs the strawberries and sugar from their respective places, to be reduced into a jam. The cream will come into it last, but Hanamaki grins like he’s already won, only partially aware that Oikawa could change his mind at any minute. He has a tendency to do that.
“You make the pastry, I’ll make the jam?”
“No duh. You make the pastry too flat.”
“Like your ass~?” Oikawa grins mischievously as Hanamaki gapes at him in disbelief. Then, he grabs a tea towel. As he begins to rapidly twirl it around, Oikawa realises he has very little time, so with a shriek, he runs from the kitchen. Hanamaki is right on his tail.
“Let’s see how your ass likes this!” Hanamaki tackles Oikawa to the floor, abandoning the tea towel in favour of tickling him, making Oikawa laugh loud and long and pure. He’s still gasping for breath when a wave of fury sweeps over them in intimidation. Freezing on the spot, they turn to see a livid Matsukawa standing in the bedroom doorway, hunched over with an exhausted expression and murder in his eyes.
“Hajime is trying to sleep. Either bake your butt pastry quietly, or go use some other rooms in the facilities.”
“Y-Yes Mattsun.”
“Kaaay.” With verbal agreement, Matsukawa stumbles back into the room and the door shuts softly behind him. For a few seconds, Oikawa and Hanamaki are still staring at the door with fright etched into their faces. Then, they hiss and snicker, directing their gaze towards each other. Hanamaki snorts through a laugh, and that only makes it harder to stay quiet. Eventually, they find themselves slinking into the corridor just for the purpose of bursting into laughter. Wheezing and wiping away tears, Oikawa goes to unlock the door.
He pales.
“Umm... So... I don’t suppose you picked the keycard off the counter, did you?”
“... Tooru, what the literal fuck.”
“I was being attacked and tickled! Therefore, it is not my responsibility in any way.” He punctuates his statement by folding his arms with a stubborn pout. Hanamaki rolls his eyes, shaking his head with affectionate amusement.
“Come on, we’ll go do something else on base~. How about checking on the rookies?” Instantly, Oikawa perks up and is taking rapid steps down the hallway with Hanamaki on his heels. Two of the current rookies – Kindaichi and Kunimi – have struck a soft spot with the four experienced agents. Henceforth, they had claimed one each. If the rookies so wished, they could become understudies to either pair of the quartet and work with them on a three man team to gain field experience. Oikawa has laid claim to Kindaichi, whilst Matsukawa had disallowed Hanamaki to even think about choosing a rookie that wasn’t Kunimi.
“My son will be better than yours!”
“Excuse me? Your son nearly shot himself in the face with a handgun! At least Kunimi knows which direction to point the damn thing in!”
“Remind me who fell asleep halfway through a mock stakeout!”
“That was one time! Kindaichi hasn’t even completed the obstacle course!” They bicker as they jog, heading towards the rookie centre on the other side of the base. It’s equipped with everything up-and-coming spies need, from practice halls to simulation computers to weaponry. In each room, there’s also a balcony for graduated spies to overlook the training, and a staircase that only the most adept spies are allowed to descend for tutorial purposes. Oikawa and Hanamaki skid to a stop in the balcony overlooking the practice room. It’s currently in simulation mode, the streets of Indonesia looking as lifelike as Hanamaki remembers from one mission three years back.
“Whoa... Is that...?” There’s a kill screen above the simulation that is blind to the participants until they emerge. It is visible, however, to anyone from the outside looking in. In top position is TH – Turnip head. In the column next to him, as top coordinator, is CT – Constantly tired.
“I don’t believe this. How did you do it, Tooru? How did you corrupt my son into following in your footsteps?” Oikawa grins and flashes Hanamaki double peace signs.
“I told him it’s the position with the most access to coffee~.”
“You little shit-!”
“Wait, don’t kill me yet! Kin-Chan’s about to encounter hostiles.” The simulation runs about seven heavily armed hostiles approaching Kindaichi’s position as he moves through the hallways as if it’s his right to be there. Kunimi must have warned him through the earpiece, because he looks around almost frantically before climbing onto a window frame and making himself as small as possible to shrink behind the loose curtain.
“He must have learnt that from Iwa-chan...” Hanamaki gives a non-committal hum, but his mind isn’t really in the same place. It’s not that long until Oikawa will have to go to the main office and collect the last details of his mission, before he has to depart. They’ve done this dance many times, reuniting and leaving again, not knowing if the other is okay and having no forms of communication for an extended period of time.
It’s been four months since they last got to cuddle and talk and just see each other, and now they’re parting ways again. Hanamaki feels a pang in his heart and leans just a little closer to Oikawa.
“Hey, Tooru?”
“Mhm?”
“Come back safely, won’t you?” Oikawa presses back against him, wisps of untamed hair brushing Hanamaki’s cheek.
“I promise.”
“And- And make sure Iwaizumi comes back in one piece? Matsukawa would freak if he came back injured again.”
“I promise, ‘Hiro. Next time, let’s go on a mission together. All four of us. So don’t you dare leave whilst we’re in Africa!” Hanamaki makes a noise of agreement and turns his head slightly to capture Oikawa’s lips, sealing their promising words with a final kiss that lingers beyond their normal cheeky, fun pecks. Their foreheads are still touching when their lips part, and their eyes are closed. The intimate moment is interrupted by a wristwatch beeping. Oikawa’s breath fans over Hanamaki’s face in a sigh and his eyebrows flutters as his lips move.
“I have to go. That’ll be the office.”
“Wh-What? But it’s not time to leave yet!”
“Plans change, Takahiro. I’m so sorry, you know I’d stay if I could...” Their hands squeeze together, and then Oikawa is walking away, glancing over his shoulder every few steps. Hanamaki watches him go helplessly, feeling his eyes water. Oikawa turns a corner - and maybe it’s his disappearance from view, maybe it’s Hanamaki being sentimental – but he runs after Oikawa and pulls him into a tight, desperate hug from behind.
“I’ll miss you. Stay safe. I love you.” Oikawa chokes out what sounds like a restrained sob and then turns in the hug to clasp Hanamaki back, shoulders shaking until he recovers from the moving moment and pulls away.
“I love you too, more than words could ever say. I’ll return to you, ‘Hiro, I promise.” His watch beeps again, with more urgency.
“... Can you go and wake Iwa-chan? I think they want us to leave immediately.”
“I- Yeah. I can do that.” With longing glances that are tinged with the sadness of a goodbye, Hanamaki goes one way whilst Oikawa goes the other. He gets to the room, and whilst he doesn’t have a keycard to Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s room, he does have contact with Matsukawa. Pinging him incessantly until he responds, Hanamaki leans against the room door.
“I swear on everything you love, Hanamaki, if you don’t stop pinging me-.”
“Office called Oikawa. Iwaizumi needs to meet him in the depart lounge.”
“Oh. Oh shit. Yeah, hold on.”
Matsukawa releases the clasp on the watch that activates the chat, and then gently reaches down to place a hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. He almost doesn’t do it. He almost switches all modes of contact off, and stays there, with his boyfriend cuddled up to him looking so soft and peaceful in his sleep. But, this is their job, they knew that when they signed in with the agency.
“Hajime. Hey, babe, time to wake up. C’mon Haji. Mission time is go. Oikawa’s waiting for you.” Iwaizumi whines at the unwanted wakening and nuzzles into Matsukawa’s chest like he could stay there forever. Matsukawa softly chuckles, pinching Iwaizumi’s hip.
“You’re a real sweetheart, but that charm won’t get you out of your job. Up you get!” In a move that risks his life every time he executes it, Matsukawa wraps his arms around Iwaizumi’s waist, rolls him over to the other side of the bed, and then pushes him over the edge. Iwaizumi’s shout, horrified expression and desperate clawing at the bedsheets as he falls are worth every insult spat his way.
An angry head with unruly hair and narrowed green eyes pops up from the side of the bed and glares death at Matsukawa, who laughs openly, wiping away a comical tear.
“I hate when you do that!”
“Sorry, Hajime~. But it’s time to get up. Oikawa got buzzed in for briefing early. Hanamaki says to meet him at the departure lounge.” Iwaizumi scowls under his breath, shuffling in closer on his knees to rest his chin on his arms, folded across the edge of the bed.
“Just stay still for a minute. I want to have this image of you with me at all times.” Matsukawa smiles softly, relaxing into the duvet to allow Iwaizumi to scrape his eyes lovingly over every inch of what’s on display.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
“You’re adorable, Hajime. Adorable, charismatic, and flattering. But I’m still not letting you stay in bed any longer.” A tiny pout betrays Iwaizumi’s secondary motive; after admiring his boyfriend in a state of comfort and relaxation. Matsukawa chuckles and moves from the bed to cup Iwaizumi’s cheeks with his hands, tugging him up into a tidy but long kiss that leaves them both breathless.
“I love you, you know that?”
“I know. I love you too. You had better come back to me, and god forbid if you come back injured, I will ask Kuroo to amputate your limbs for even the slightest graze.”
“The terrifying thing is that I know you will.” Another quick kiss, before Iwaizumi darts into the bathroom for a quick flannel wash, and Matsukawa pulls out the clothes he’ll need to wear from the departure lounge to wherever their cover is this time. There’s no time for sentimental speeches or time-consuming hugs. Instead, it’s like Iwaizumi is snatched away far too quickly, dressed in a rush yet presentable enough, and keycard swiped off the kitchen counter with two pieces of fruit in hand. One for him, one for Oikawa. It’s only when he’s out in the corridor, Matsukawa now dressed and standing besides Hanamaki, that Iwaizumi pulls him down for one final kiss.
“Wait for me?”
“This time, of course.” The small smile that tugs at Iwaizumi’s lips is worth it, before he runs off down the corridor and turns left, towards the departure lounge. Matsukawa sighs and his shoulders sag, so he slings an arm over his best friends shoulder to provide comfort as well as steal it away.
“We’re hopelessly in love, aren’t we?”
“Yup.”
“... Want to find a new TV show to watch until they come home?”
“Yup.”
“Ice-cream and tissues?” Hanamaki sniffles, head low and wiping at his eyes with his sleeve, voice pitching up as he answers;
“Y-Yes.” Matsukawa pats him supportively on the back, fishing out their own keycard, and they head for the safety of the room entitled CF and BB.