[log] Kamio, Kajimoto
Date: 06.23.06
Rating: G
Summary: Kamio comes home from his mission, to discover he has a visitor.
Tired.
The redhead blinked sleepily as he climbed out of the taxi, yawning and tugging his bag from the backseat. One plane change and some…seventeen-odd hours between Regean International and Tokyo had left him feeling drained. Disregarding the fact that he'd just skipped through about eleven time zones -- he thought -- Kamio Akira had pretty much lost an entire day.
It had been the rush hour commute when they'd left their hotel in Washington, on a Thursday evening; now…he was pretty sure it was Friday night. He hoped, at least.
What a waste.
The last leg of the flight, after he'd changed terminals at LAX, had been long, his legs were sore and the movie had been boring. Or what he'd seen of it, at any rate, because he'd apparently dozed off shortly after the opening credits. Not that it mattered. He hadn't particularly wanted to watch some film about people lost in the desert anyway, bad voice-overs into his native tongue aside.
Standing next to the cab, Kamio pulled out his wallet and handed the driver his fee plus a tip, muttered something that sounded like a half-assed attempt at 'thanks' and headed inside the building. He took the elevator up to his floor, leaning heavily against the wall as the lift dinged every floor off. Blue eyes were only half open, the back of his mind swarming with a post-mission crash. If he had his way, his cell phone would have stayed off and he'd sleep for the remainder of the weekend.
Sadly, that wasn't meant to be. A few hours of sleep, at best, given that he'd received an email from his superior in-flight. The details were sketchy, and other than a ten am meeting -- wasn't someone being generous -- he had no clue what he was getting into this time. He'd find out in the morning, when he was hopefully somewhat awake, and he hoped that whoever he was meeting with didn't mind the whole thing being recorded for him to review later.
When he was fully awake.
Stepping off the elevator, his messenger bag's strap flung across his torso, the redhead raked his hair back and walked down the dimly hall, finally coming to a halt in front of one of the doors and fishing for the key to his apartment. He'd just started to put it into the lock before something…stopped him. Instinct, perhaps; he wouldn't argue with the assessment that it was. Kamio made an annoyed sigh, grumbling about his father under his breath. Still, he pulled the messenger bag's strap off and let the black leather satchel rest of the floor, his fingers expertly going to the harness and gun hidden underneath his light jacket.
The weapon out, the safety clicked off, Kamio worked the key into the lock and listened for the tumblers to take. Then he stepped off to the side and leaned on the jamb itself, pushing the door open with his foot.
No gunshots greeted him -- real or recorded, and yes, his father was insane but the man had never actually shot at him. That didn't make the redhead any less cautious though. The gun was cradled in his hands, finger resting on the trigger but not eager to pull it, as he entered the dark apartment.
Shrouded in the darkness and hidden from Kamio's sight, someone watched him, amethyst eyes straining to make out more than a faint outline of a shadow. Slender fingers grasped the handle of a handgun, more of a precaution than a weapon, and fingered the edge of the safety catch.
For a moment, Kajimoto contemplated the extent of his sanity and decided a moment later that he had none or he would have considered the possibility that this field agent was probably a trigger happy greenhorn and turned up in a more sensible manner… if at all. He pressed himself further into soft cloth, maneuvering such that his right arm was free to move as he sat up, back pressed up against the wall.
"Welcome home, Kamio-kun."
The gun that the redhead held trained towards the unfamiliar voice, in the region of the futon that the young agent normally called his bed. Kamio took a step back and dropped one hand from his gun. His fingertips found the wall, skimmed upwards to the switch and he clicked on the lights.
The room was instantly bright.
It took half a second for his eyes to adjust to the change, but even then, the gun stayed steady. He adjusted it only slightly once his vision came back into focus, pointing the barrel directly at the stranger leaned against his wall. A frown graced his features as he studied the man. Unfamiliar…completely unfamiliar, though not someone Kamio would have been adverse to finding in his bed.
Had he invited him.
As it was, however, the redhead was at a disadvantage and he knew it. The man knew his name, probably had some idea of who he was and, if he had spent anytime snooping through the surveillance expert's equipment, he would have had a vague idea of what Kamio did. However, the unknown brunette had given away his own presence and position by speaking up. Blue eyes had also caught sight of the glint of gunmetal, though the weapon wasn't directed at him. Yet.
So…the stranger was not necessarily hostile.
The redhead lowered his own gun a fraction and swallowed. "Who the hell are you and why are you in my bed?" he demanded.
"It's late," Kajimoto shrugged nonchalantly, placing his gun onto his lap as he shot the agent a wry smirk. No pun intended, of course. "I was tired and your couch is in full view of an ill-concealed pinhole camera."
Selective hearing came in to play here, and he completely left out any mention of names.
He stifled a false yawn and tilted back his head, appearing completely at ease with the situation at hand. Heavy-lidded amethyst orbs met clear cerulean ones and Kajimoto grinned a Cheshire grin, face splitting nearly in half. The agent was young. Young, slender and beautiful. Probably about his age, give or take a year or two.
"Why don't you go wash up and take a bath? You look ready to drop." To ease the redhead's fears a little, he stowed the gun away in his coat which lay by his side and withdrew a manila envelope with the agency's insignia clearly shown at the corner and held it up for him to see. "This can wait a little longer."
Kamio frowned and slanted his eyes in the direction of the wall opposite the couch, catching site of the tell-tale black hole of said camera. "God damn it, dad," he hissed under his breath. Honestly, if the man was going to sneak in and plant things in Kamio's apartment, he should know to do a better job. Even half dead with sleep, as he was, the redhead would have noticed something that sloppy -- were his mind not distracted by the still nameless man on his bed.
Though if that camera was there, likely there were a few other things around the place as well. Hopefully not as obvious.
He'd have to do a full sweep, he realized.
But not until this guy was gone.
Glancing back to watch the man put away his gun, the redhead dropped his own down and tilted his head to the side. He wasn't getting answers, clearly, though the envelope's insignia did make him relax marginally. Almost as much as it pissed him off. He'd just gotten back into the country. A chance to rest before being pulled into something else would have been appreciated.
Then again, so would an introduction. "I'll get a bath after I know who you are." Eyebrows knotted, he gave a short snort of disapproval. "And if it can wait, why couldn't it wait until the morning?" he demanded curtly. "Instead of you showing up in my apartment and nearly getting your damn head blown off?"
Dropping the envelope given to him by his handler, Kajimoto relaxed against the wall once more, crossing his arms across his torso as he shrugged. It seemed that rumors about redheads having fiery tempers were true. Then again, generalizing and sweeping statements were never his thing. Glancing straight at another pinhole camera situated above Kamio Akira's head, the brunette offered the agent a small smile.
He'd done a brief sweep of the living room area just an hour ago but had not touched anything in case they actually belonged to Kamio. While no expert on this area, he knew enough to pass the agency tests and to tell that the whole damned place was an invasion of privacy. For all he knew, the agent was paranoia personified.
"Kajimoto Takahisa," he said finally, nodding his head politely. "Journalist and agency employee." Deciding that it should be enough to sate the redhead's curiosity for a while, the brunette crawled back under the covers of the futon without a single by your leave and shut his eyes. He looked for all the world to be asleep, the innocent picture he made enough to cause Shishido to throw up. "Figured that I'd catch you before you slept rather than break in and wake you up. Blasted meeting's at 10 in the morning."
Kamio glared at the uninvited body in his bed. "Well, Kajimoto-san, why don't you just make yourself comfy?" he grumbled sarcastically as he tucked his gun back into the holster. "Instead of, ya know, waiting until the meeting to meet me like a normal person would. Or calling me on the phone or…" he continued as he went back down the short entry hall and out the front door. Grabbing his bag, the redhead unzipped one pocket and tugged out his cell phone, shouldered the rest, and shut the door behind him. Two locks -- deadbolts, both -- and a quick check of the video on the recorder that was positioned over the peephole sated the redhead's worry that someone besides his father and this…guy had made their way into his home. It was a simple looking device, and truthfully, anyone could have pulled it off the peephole and trashed it once they got inside.
But that was disregarding that Kamio had made serious modifications to it the moment he got it. With an added Bluetooth chip and some tinkering, the small camcorder now transmitted it's video straight to a receiver secluded in the drop ceiling above.
If anyone asked, Kamio would say he wasn't paranoid. He was cautious.
Then he flipped open his cell phone. One text message to his father -- Dad, turn off the damn cameras and you are SO patching my walls before the landlady sees this! -- and a second to his department head asking for verification of the name. As he texted, he walked across his living into the kitchen and flipped on the lights, dumped his bag on the counter and shrugged off his jacket. The jacket he left on the counter, picked up the bag again and took it into what was supposed to be a bedroom; the redhead used it as a workroom, save for the closet. Then the bag was quickly scavenged, dirty laundry tossed into a hamper and clean boxers grabbed before he, his gun and his cell phone slipped into the bathroom.
Ten minutes -- and a lot of steam -- later, the redhead slipped out from under the showerhead and dried off. His phone buzzed with a new message as he pulled on clean boxers. Flipping it open again, his eyes skimmed over the message.
…damn.
Kamio sighed and closed the phone as he exited the bath, pausing in the kitchen long enough pull a bag of chips from off the top of his icebox and a couple of longneck bottles of Asahi from inside. It took only a moment to pops both caps off. He then dimmed the light, enough to give the rest of the single room -- living, dining and kitchen all in one -- a soft glow and, with bottles tangled between his fingers, chips tucked under his arm and his cell phone and gun balanced precariously, returned to the living room.
He sat down heavily on the edge of the futon, setting the beers on the table in front of him and tossing the chips and cell phone down next to them. Then he opened the gun barrel, emptying it of bullets and laying both down on the end of the low table.
"Abe says you check out."
"Abe is my new best friend," turning to rest on his side, Kajimoto offered a sleepy smile to the agent whose annoyed expression did little to deter him. "Although Choutarou and Shishido might protest to that."
Reaching out for the manila folder, he tossed it onto Kamio's lap and snuggled further into the futon. How he was going to extract himself from its toasty embrace he did not know but he was determined to enjoy it while he could before returning to his empty hotel room.
"Information on the situation over at Iran, things you should know but should never let others know you do and things you need to know to survive there," the professional edge to his voice was dropped and he lowered his tone to a more sleepy one. "Aka things that you need that the agency won't provided. Logistics and mission stats during meeting tomorrow as per usual."
Most of the notes were from his personal stash, things that he had found out but the agency did not need to know. Kajimoto was not to keen on working with someone else, but as always, figured that if he had to, he might as well do it as thoroughly as his abilities allowed him to. Tugging on the collar of his violet dress shirt, the amethyst-eyed spy yawned and sat up in one fluid motion. Fingers combed through golden brown locks and Kajimoto attempted to rub sleep from his eyes.
If he fell of his bike on the way home and died, he figured the he could still blame the agency. Now he need only hope that Ohtori remembered that his will was at his place.
He yawned.
"I'm sure Abe'll be thrilled to hear that," came the dry response. Then the redhead pursued his lips at the two names mentioned, both...familiar. One, he knew from the rooster, at least; the other...
Couldn't be the same guy. He probably didn't even work for the Agency.
Shrugging it off, Kamio opened the manila envelope and pulled out the pages inside. Blue eyes skimmed for a moment before Kamio gave a heavy side, shifted on the futon so he could reach the nearby end table and plucked his spare glasses case from inside the single drawer. He slipped the thin wire frames on and grabbed one of the beers from the table, settling back on the futon so that he was leaned against the wall.
"Iran?" he murmured, running fingers through his hair. Not an area he was overly familiar with, to be honest, nor one that he had ever really wanted to get familiar with. Sipping from the bottle, he pursued his lips and flipped through the pages. "Hm...fine, I'll look over it in more detail tomorrow. When I'm awake," he decided, slumping back and taking another drink. He was still tense, pressure from the mission and the realization that it was over not fully dawned on him. Not to mention coming home to find the other man in his house, but the alcohol eased his nerves.
Catching sight of the other agent yawning out of the corner of his eye, the redhead followed suit. "Damn it," he complained as he covered his gaping mouth was a fist. "Don't do that."
Then he settled back and laid the envelope and it's contents aside, focusing more on drinking his beer in relative silence and trying to stay awake a little longer. Though, if the other man didn't pick up the remaining Asashi from the table, well...the redhead wasn't above finishing it off himself. At the very least, two beers would knock him cold.
Which might not be a good thing, given the early meeting the next day.
"Probably would have been better if you had come in the morning," he murmured, tilting his head to one side and inhaling deeply. "Might need someone to wake me up."
"Hn," the brunette grunted noncommittally as he watched the redhead down the booze. He had a slight aversion to the taste of bottled beer and never drank it unless his intention was to get completely smashed or if he needed it to get the job done. Besides, Kamio had not offered and he was not about to assume.
Yes, Kajimoto had odd scruples.
He had not missed the recognition at the names of his two friends and allowed himself the luxury of a small smirk. It was a blind whack in the dark, but it seemed that the world was indeed a little too small of its own good.
Eyelids drifted shut of its own accord and the brunette was too drowsy to care. Besides, Kamio did not look like he was about to shove him out of the apartment just yet and he was not above taking advantage of that. With his back to the wall, the spy nodded off as though he were in a safe house with his mind in high alert.
Old habits died hard, after all.
"I'll wake you up at nine."
Kamio finished off the first beer easily. Reaching for the chips, he opened the sack and grabbed the second beer. Yeah, he'd be sleeping soundly. He hoped, though a sidelong glance at the man next to him told him the other might fall over asleep at any second.
He could relate.
But that didn't stop him from eating…something, as he hadn't had any food since leaving LAX, and the redhead wasn't sure any of what he'd eaten was actually edible. The chips weren't much, true, but should get him through the next…nine hours of sleep? Without him waking up starving.
A few minutes of munching, and the second beer downed, the redhead set the bottle aside and closed up the chips. He stood, stretched and scratched his stomach, then turned to look at the brunette still leaned against the wall. Kamio sighed and grabbed the bottles and chips, the first to throw away and the second to put back up. "I'm going to go get the lights," he murmured. "You might as well lay down or something. Just don't bitch if you wake up with me on top of you…"
Eyes opened at the sound of Kamio speaking despite the fact that he had not really fallen asleep, and Kajimoto arched a brow at the back of his new partner-to-be. For a moment it was a toss up of feeling surprised at not being shoved out the front door or grateful for the same thing. Then he decided it was pointless and that he could feel both at the same time without permanently screwing up his brain.
"I won't," Kajimoto responded, sure that his smirk could almost be heard in his voice. "It is a most thought-provoking idea and to be fair, I cannot be held responsible for actions I might take while still asleep or half-lucid."
Curling up tightly under the covers of the futon once more, he moved further to the side to allow the redhead more space as he stifled another jaw-breaking yawn.
The redhead made his way easily across the now darkened room, rubbing his eyes and yawning softly. It wasn't that he particularly wanted to share his bed with the other man, however…they were going to work together. And as much as the first impression might leave to be desired, Kamio wasn't going to throw his own partner out on the street when Kajimoto was almost as close to falling over asleep as he was.
"Good," he replied, settling down on the bed and rolling over to his stomach. "Try and keep it to your hands, though," the redhead suggested, reaching over to tug at the sheets. "Anything else, and I'm not going to answer for what I do on instinct in response." The fighter in him might accidentally leave the other with a black eye otherwise; the part of him that was a single twenty six year old…well, Kamio tried to make not jumping his coworkers a habit, least of all his own partners.
Things could get messy otherwise.
He drew part of the covers over him and squirmed, slowly settling into a comfortable position. It took him a couple of minutes, but between the beer and just the fact that he was home, sleep came quickly to the redhead.
Lids snapped open, courtesy of rigorous training and years of paranoia ingrained into the very soul of his cautiousness. Amethyst was met with an eyeful of red and Kajimoto's hand flew to the weapon hidden beneath the folds of his coat. Then his attacker moved, arms curling tighter about him in perfect imitation of a koala on its beloved eucalyptus tree.
Kajimoto laughed, the soft rumbling of his chest not enough to wake the dozing redhead it would seem. With his left arm wrapped about Kamio's shoulders, the spy carded his fingers through bangs of soft crimson. Then shaking his head as though mocking himself, he relaxed back into the embrace of the futon.
A quick glance at the clock told him that it was far too early to be waking his new partner who was fresh from a mission and no doubt exhausted. That quickly eradicated any thought of him attempting to wriggle out from Kamio's hold lest he wake the man up and receive a beating from the field agent who was likely to be in better shape than he was.
Shifting his legs to stretch, the brunette came to an abrupt halt as he realized that Kamio had a leg firmly wedged in between his thighs. Thinking that he should probably be mortified instead, Kajimoto burst out into a fresh bout of laughter which he quickly stifled into Kamio's neck.
Oh dear. He would just have to wait it out.
Kamio didn't stir, save to move closer to the solid, warm thing that was in his bed. Something in the back of his mind told him that it was another person, acknowledged the rise and fall of a chest and the occasional jostling with little care. Even the feel of something -- fingers? -- running through his hair was pushed aside in favor of the sleep he needed so badly.
Finally, however, some nagging thought started to push through his exhaustion-addled mind. He had somewhere he had to go. Something important…soon? Maybe? He shook it off for a few more minutes before the feeling became more insistent. The redhead frowned in his sleep, shifting and nuzzling closer to the solid/warm/comfy person he was currently curled around, but that didn't help either. The sense persisted until, hazily, Kamio slit open his dark blue eyes and made an irritated sound that had the distinct meaning of, 'what time is it?'
However, it was garbled and partly in Russian. The redhead furrowed his brow, gaze focusing on the rumpled shirt he was currently using as a pillow, before he tried the question a second time.
"Too early," Kajimoto replied, tongue curling around the foreign words in a soft caress, tone laced with an undercurrent of mirth. "linger still in slumber"
Body shaking lightly in his efforts to keep from laughing out loud, Kajimoto's fingers would themselves in locks of crimson as though attempting to anchor callused digits among the head of silken strands.
He could do with an hour or two more of sleep himself anyway.
Rating: G
Summary: Kamio comes home from his mission, to discover he has a visitor.
Tired.
The redhead blinked sleepily as he climbed out of the taxi, yawning and tugging his bag from the backseat. One plane change and some…seventeen-odd hours between Regean International and Tokyo had left him feeling drained. Disregarding the fact that he'd just skipped through about eleven time zones -- he thought -- Kamio Akira had pretty much lost an entire day.
It had been the rush hour commute when they'd left their hotel in Washington, on a Thursday evening; now…he was pretty sure it was Friday night. He hoped, at least.
What a waste.
The last leg of the flight, after he'd changed terminals at LAX, had been long, his legs were sore and the movie had been boring. Or what he'd seen of it, at any rate, because he'd apparently dozed off shortly after the opening credits. Not that it mattered. He hadn't particularly wanted to watch some film about people lost in the desert anyway, bad voice-overs into his native tongue aside.
Standing next to the cab, Kamio pulled out his wallet and handed the driver his fee plus a tip, muttered something that sounded like a half-assed attempt at 'thanks' and headed inside the building. He took the elevator up to his floor, leaning heavily against the wall as the lift dinged every floor off. Blue eyes were only half open, the back of his mind swarming with a post-mission crash. If he had his way, his cell phone would have stayed off and he'd sleep for the remainder of the weekend.
Sadly, that wasn't meant to be. A few hours of sleep, at best, given that he'd received an email from his superior in-flight. The details were sketchy, and other than a ten am meeting -- wasn't someone being generous -- he had no clue what he was getting into this time. He'd find out in the morning, when he was hopefully somewhat awake, and he hoped that whoever he was meeting with didn't mind the whole thing being recorded for him to review later.
When he was fully awake.
Stepping off the elevator, his messenger bag's strap flung across his torso, the redhead raked his hair back and walked down the dimly hall, finally coming to a halt in front of one of the doors and fishing for the key to his apartment. He'd just started to put it into the lock before something…stopped him. Instinct, perhaps; he wouldn't argue with the assessment that it was. Kamio made an annoyed sigh, grumbling about his father under his breath. Still, he pulled the messenger bag's strap off and let the black leather satchel rest of the floor, his fingers expertly going to the harness and gun hidden underneath his light jacket.
The weapon out, the safety clicked off, Kamio worked the key into the lock and listened for the tumblers to take. Then he stepped off to the side and leaned on the jamb itself, pushing the door open with his foot.
No gunshots greeted him -- real or recorded, and yes, his father was insane but the man had never actually shot at him. That didn't make the redhead any less cautious though. The gun was cradled in his hands, finger resting on the trigger but not eager to pull it, as he entered the dark apartment.
Shrouded in the darkness and hidden from Kamio's sight, someone watched him, amethyst eyes straining to make out more than a faint outline of a shadow. Slender fingers grasped the handle of a handgun, more of a precaution than a weapon, and fingered the edge of the safety catch.
For a moment, Kajimoto contemplated the extent of his sanity and decided a moment later that he had none or he would have considered the possibility that this field agent was probably a trigger happy greenhorn and turned up in a more sensible manner… if at all. He pressed himself further into soft cloth, maneuvering such that his right arm was free to move as he sat up, back pressed up against the wall.
"Welcome home, Kamio-kun."
The gun that the redhead held trained towards the unfamiliar voice, in the region of the futon that the young agent normally called his bed. Kamio took a step back and dropped one hand from his gun. His fingertips found the wall, skimmed upwards to the switch and he clicked on the lights.
The room was instantly bright.
It took half a second for his eyes to adjust to the change, but even then, the gun stayed steady. He adjusted it only slightly once his vision came back into focus, pointing the barrel directly at the stranger leaned against his wall. A frown graced his features as he studied the man. Unfamiliar…completely unfamiliar, though not someone Kamio would have been adverse to finding in his bed.
Had he invited him.
As it was, however, the redhead was at a disadvantage and he knew it. The man knew his name, probably had some idea of who he was and, if he had spent anytime snooping through the surveillance expert's equipment, he would have had a vague idea of what Kamio did. However, the unknown brunette had given away his own presence and position by speaking up. Blue eyes had also caught sight of the glint of gunmetal, though the weapon wasn't directed at him. Yet.
So…the stranger was not necessarily hostile.
The redhead lowered his own gun a fraction and swallowed. "Who the hell are you and why are you in my bed?" he demanded.
"It's late," Kajimoto shrugged nonchalantly, placing his gun onto his lap as he shot the agent a wry smirk. No pun intended, of course. "I was tired and your couch is in full view of an ill-concealed pinhole camera."
Selective hearing came in to play here, and he completely left out any mention of names.
He stifled a false yawn and tilted back his head, appearing completely at ease with the situation at hand. Heavy-lidded amethyst orbs met clear cerulean ones and Kajimoto grinned a Cheshire grin, face splitting nearly in half. The agent was young. Young, slender and beautiful. Probably about his age, give or take a year or two.
"Why don't you go wash up and take a bath? You look ready to drop." To ease the redhead's fears a little, he stowed the gun away in his coat which lay by his side and withdrew a manila envelope with the agency's insignia clearly shown at the corner and held it up for him to see. "This can wait a little longer."
Kamio frowned and slanted his eyes in the direction of the wall opposite the couch, catching site of the tell-tale black hole of said camera. "God damn it, dad," he hissed under his breath. Honestly, if the man was going to sneak in and plant things in Kamio's apartment, he should know to do a better job. Even half dead with sleep, as he was, the redhead would have noticed something that sloppy -- were his mind not distracted by the still nameless man on his bed.
Though if that camera was there, likely there were a few other things around the place as well. Hopefully not as obvious.
He'd have to do a full sweep, he realized.
But not until this guy was gone.
Glancing back to watch the man put away his gun, the redhead dropped his own down and tilted his head to the side. He wasn't getting answers, clearly, though the envelope's insignia did make him relax marginally. Almost as much as it pissed him off. He'd just gotten back into the country. A chance to rest before being pulled into something else would have been appreciated.
Then again, so would an introduction. "I'll get a bath after I know who you are." Eyebrows knotted, he gave a short snort of disapproval. "And if it can wait, why couldn't it wait until the morning?" he demanded curtly. "Instead of you showing up in my apartment and nearly getting your damn head blown off?"
Dropping the envelope given to him by his handler, Kajimoto relaxed against the wall once more, crossing his arms across his torso as he shrugged. It seemed that rumors about redheads having fiery tempers were true. Then again, generalizing and sweeping statements were never his thing. Glancing straight at another pinhole camera situated above Kamio Akira's head, the brunette offered the agent a small smile.
He'd done a brief sweep of the living room area just an hour ago but had not touched anything in case they actually belonged to Kamio. While no expert on this area, he knew enough to pass the agency tests and to tell that the whole damned place was an invasion of privacy. For all he knew, the agent was paranoia personified.
"Kajimoto Takahisa," he said finally, nodding his head politely. "Journalist and agency employee." Deciding that it should be enough to sate the redhead's curiosity for a while, the brunette crawled back under the covers of the futon without a single by your leave and shut his eyes. He looked for all the world to be asleep, the innocent picture he made enough to cause Shishido to throw up. "Figured that I'd catch you before you slept rather than break in and wake you up. Blasted meeting's at 10 in the morning."
Kamio glared at the uninvited body in his bed. "Well, Kajimoto-san, why don't you just make yourself comfy?" he grumbled sarcastically as he tucked his gun back into the holster. "Instead of, ya know, waiting until the meeting to meet me like a normal person would. Or calling me on the phone or…" he continued as he went back down the short entry hall and out the front door. Grabbing his bag, the redhead unzipped one pocket and tugged out his cell phone, shouldered the rest, and shut the door behind him. Two locks -- deadbolts, both -- and a quick check of the video on the recorder that was positioned over the peephole sated the redhead's worry that someone besides his father and this…guy had made their way into his home. It was a simple looking device, and truthfully, anyone could have pulled it off the peephole and trashed it once they got inside.
But that was disregarding that Kamio had made serious modifications to it the moment he got it. With an added Bluetooth chip and some tinkering, the small camcorder now transmitted it's video straight to a receiver secluded in the drop ceiling above.
If anyone asked, Kamio would say he wasn't paranoid. He was cautious.
Then he flipped open his cell phone. One text message to his father -- Dad, turn off the damn cameras and you are SO patching my walls before the landlady sees this! -- and a second to his department head asking for verification of the name. As he texted, he walked across his living into the kitchen and flipped on the lights, dumped his bag on the counter and shrugged off his jacket. The jacket he left on the counter, picked up the bag again and took it into what was supposed to be a bedroom; the redhead used it as a workroom, save for the closet. Then the bag was quickly scavenged, dirty laundry tossed into a hamper and clean boxers grabbed before he, his gun and his cell phone slipped into the bathroom.
Ten minutes -- and a lot of steam -- later, the redhead slipped out from under the showerhead and dried off. His phone buzzed with a new message as he pulled on clean boxers. Flipping it open again, his eyes skimmed over the message.
…damn.
Kamio sighed and closed the phone as he exited the bath, pausing in the kitchen long enough pull a bag of chips from off the top of his icebox and a couple of longneck bottles of Asahi from inside. It took only a moment to pops both caps off. He then dimmed the light, enough to give the rest of the single room -- living, dining and kitchen all in one -- a soft glow and, with bottles tangled between his fingers, chips tucked under his arm and his cell phone and gun balanced precariously, returned to the living room.
He sat down heavily on the edge of the futon, setting the beers on the table in front of him and tossing the chips and cell phone down next to them. Then he opened the gun barrel, emptying it of bullets and laying both down on the end of the low table.
"Abe says you check out."
"Abe is my new best friend," turning to rest on his side, Kajimoto offered a sleepy smile to the agent whose annoyed expression did little to deter him. "Although Choutarou and Shishido might protest to that."
Reaching out for the manila folder, he tossed it onto Kamio's lap and snuggled further into the futon. How he was going to extract himself from its toasty embrace he did not know but he was determined to enjoy it while he could before returning to his empty hotel room.
"Information on the situation over at Iran, things you should know but should never let others know you do and things you need to know to survive there," the professional edge to his voice was dropped and he lowered his tone to a more sleepy one. "Aka things that you need that the agency won't provided. Logistics and mission stats during meeting tomorrow as per usual."
Most of the notes were from his personal stash, things that he had found out but the agency did not need to know. Kajimoto was not to keen on working with someone else, but as always, figured that if he had to, he might as well do it as thoroughly as his abilities allowed him to. Tugging on the collar of his violet dress shirt, the amethyst-eyed spy yawned and sat up in one fluid motion. Fingers combed through golden brown locks and Kajimoto attempted to rub sleep from his eyes.
If he fell of his bike on the way home and died, he figured the he could still blame the agency. Now he need only hope that Ohtori remembered that his will was at his place.
He yawned.
"I'm sure Abe'll be thrilled to hear that," came the dry response. Then the redhead pursued his lips at the two names mentioned, both...familiar. One, he knew from the rooster, at least; the other...
Couldn't be the same guy. He probably didn't even work for the Agency.
Shrugging it off, Kamio opened the manila envelope and pulled out the pages inside. Blue eyes skimmed for a moment before Kamio gave a heavy side, shifted on the futon so he could reach the nearby end table and plucked his spare glasses case from inside the single drawer. He slipped the thin wire frames on and grabbed one of the beers from the table, settling back on the futon so that he was leaned against the wall.
"Iran?" he murmured, running fingers through his hair. Not an area he was overly familiar with, to be honest, nor one that he had ever really wanted to get familiar with. Sipping from the bottle, he pursued his lips and flipped through the pages. "Hm...fine, I'll look over it in more detail tomorrow. When I'm awake," he decided, slumping back and taking another drink. He was still tense, pressure from the mission and the realization that it was over not fully dawned on him. Not to mention coming home to find the other man in his house, but the alcohol eased his nerves.
Catching sight of the other agent yawning out of the corner of his eye, the redhead followed suit. "Damn it," he complained as he covered his gaping mouth was a fist. "Don't do that."
Then he settled back and laid the envelope and it's contents aside, focusing more on drinking his beer in relative silence and trying to stay awake a little longer. Though, if the other man didn't pick up the remaining Asashi from the table, well...the redhead wasn't above finishing it off himself. At the very least, two beers would knock him cold.
Which might not be a good thing, given the early meeting the next day.
"Probably would have been better if you had come in the morning," he murmured, tilting his head to one side and inhaling deeply. "Might need someone to wake me up."
"Hn," the brunette grunted noncommittally as he watched the redhead down the booze. He had a slight aversion to the taste of bottled beer and never drank it unless his intention was to get completely smashed or if he needed it to get the job done. Besides, Kamio had not offered and he was not about to assume.
Yes, Kajimoto had odd scruples.
He had not missed the recognition at the names of his two friends and allowed himself the luxury of a small smirk. It was a blind whack in the dark, but it seemed that the world was indeed a little too small of its own good.
Eyelids drifted shut of its own accord and the brunette was too drowsy to care. Besides, Kamio did not look like he was about to shove him out of the apartment just yet and he was not above taking advantage of that. With his back to the wall, the spy nodded off as though he were in a safe house with his mind in high alert.
Old habits died hard, after all.
"I'll wake you up at nine."
Kamio finished off the first beer easily. Reaching for the chips, he opened the sack and grabbed the second beer. Yeah, he'd be sleeping soundly. He hoped, though a sidelong glance at the man next to him told him the other might fall over asleep at any second.
He could relate.
But that didn't stop him from eating…something, as he hadn't had any food since leaving LAX, and the redhead wasn't sure any of what he'd eaten was actually edible. The chips weren't much, true, but should get him through the next…nine hours of sleep? Without him waking up starving.
A few minutes of munching, and the second beer downed, the redhead set the bottle aside and closed up the chips. He stood, stretched and scratched his stomach, then turned to look at the brunette still leaned against the wall. Kamio sighed and grabbed the bottles and chips, the first to throw away and the second to put back up. "I'm going to go get the lights," he murmured. "You might as well lay down or something. Just don't bitch if you wake up with me on top of you…"
Eyes opened at the sound of Kamio speaking despite the fact that he had not really fallen asleep, and Kajimoto arched a brow at the back of his new partner-to-be. For a moment it was a toss up of feeling surprised at not being shoved out the front door or grateful for the same thing. Then he decided it was pointless and that he could feel both at the same time without permanently screwing up his brain.
"I won't," Kajimoto responded, sure that his smirk could almost be heard in his voice. "It is a most thought-provoking idea and to be fair, I cannot be held responsible for actions I might take while still asleep or half-lucid."
Curling up tightly under the covers of the futon once more, he moved further to the side to allow the redhead more space as he stifled another jaw-breaking yawn.
The redhead made his way easily across the now darkened room, rubbing his eyes and yawning softly. It wasn't that he particularly wanted to share his bed with the other man, however…they were going to work together. And as much as the first impression might leave to be desired, Kamio wasn't going to throw his own partner out on the street when Kajimoto was almost as close to falling over asleep as he was.
"Good," he replied, settling down on the bed and rolling over to his stomach. "Try and keep it to your hands, though," the redhead suggested, reaching over to tug at the sheets. "Anything else, and I'm not going to answer for what I do on instinct in response." The fighter in him might accidentally leave the other with a black eye otherwise; the part of him that was a single twenty six year old…well, Kamio tried to make not jumping his coworkers a habit, least of all his own partners.
Things could get messy otherwise.
He drew part of the covers over him and squirmed, slowly settling into a comfortable position. It took him a couple of minutes, but between the beer and just the fact that he was home, sleep came quickly to the redhead.
Lids snapped open, courtesy of rigorous training and years of paranoia ingrained into the very soul of his cautiousness. Amethyst was met with an eyeful of red and Kajimoto's hand flew to the weapon hidden beneath the folds of his coat. Then his attacker moved, arms curling tighter about him in perfect imitation of a koala on its beloved eucalyptus tree.
Kajimoto laughed, the soft rumbling of his chest not enough to wake the dozing redhead it would seem. With his left arm wrapped about Kamio's shoulders, the spy carded his fingers through bangs of soft crimson. Then shaking his head as though mocking himself, he relaxed back into the embrace of the futon.
A quick glance at the clock told him that it was far too early to be waking his new partner who was fresh from a mission and no doubt exhausted. That quickly eradicated any thought of him attempting to wriggle out from Kamio's hold lest he wake the man up and receive a beating from the field agent who was likely to be in better shape than he was.
Shifting his legs to stretch, the brunette came to an abrupt halt as he realized that Kamio had a leg firmly wedged in between his thighs. Thinking that he should probably be mortified instead, Kajimoto burst out into a fresh bout of laughter which he quickly stifled into Kamio's neck.
Oh dear. He would just have to wait it out.
Kamio didn't stir, save to move closer to the solid, warm thing that was in his bed. Something in the back of his mind told him that it was another person, acknowledged the rise and fall of a chest and the occasional jostling with little care. Even the feel of something -- fingers? -- running through his hair was pushed aside in favor of the sleep he needed so badly.
Finally, however, some nagging thought started to push through his exhaustion-addled mind. He had somewhere he had to go. Something important…soon? Maybe? He shook it off for a few more minutes before the feeling became more insistent. The redhead frowned in his sleep, shifting and nuzzling closer to the solid/warm/comfy person he was currently curled around, but that didn't help either. The sense persisted until, hazily, Kamio slit open his dark blue eyes and made an irritated sound that had the distinct meaning of, 'what time is it?'
However, it was garbled and partly in Russian. The redhead furrowed his brow, gaze focusing on the rumpled shirt he was currently using as a pillow, before he tried the question a second time.
"Too early," Kajimoto replied, tongue curling around the foreign words in a soft caress, tone laced with an undercurrent of mirth. "linger still in slumber"
Body shaking lightly in his efforts to keep from laughing out loud, Kajimoto's fingers would themselves in locks of crimson as though attempting to anchor callused digits among the head of silken strands.
He could do with an hour or two more of sleep himself anyway.