Fic for spurious
Title: Mission #416
By: gothicauthor
Pairing: Akame
Rating: PG-13
Genre/Warnings: AU, spoilers for the end of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, slaughtering of Bond-inspired tropes, craptastic guesswork at spy life
Notes: You said not to make it too easy, so... Um. I apologize in advance, spurious. x.x I am a terrible person. I hope you can accept this. >.<
On a more technical note, the page breaks indicate time shifts: Right is forward, left is back.
Also, a huge thanks to my beta, who is seriously the most incredible person ever.
Summary: Things get a little awkward when Johnny tells Kame that he has to go undercover with Akanishi.
"Agent Kamenashi."
"Sir."
"This mission is... different. It will require great delicacy."
"Yes, sir."
"It will also be difficult. That's why you won't be working alone."
"Sir?"
"I'm sending you in with Akanishi."
→→→
The humidity is like a smack in the face as Kame steps out of his car, even despite the sea breeze. It's six o'clock, but the sun is still baking, soaking into the cement and well-appointed gardens. He's already sweltering in his pale blue polo, missing the air conditioned coolness of the very sleek, very sexy Aston Martin behind him, door still ajar and waiting for the valet.
Alas, duty calls.
Kame obligingly tosses the keys to the young man who runs up and tucks his hands in his pockets before strolling up the steps. The hotel lobby is predictably full of marble, the lines spare and expensive.
"Welcome to the Villa Regalis. May I help you, sir?"
Clearly, whoever named it had never taken Latin, but that's not the receptionist's fault. She's a pretty girl, in a standard blonde sort of way. The look she gives him is hopefully attentive, though-earnest-and it makes him like her. He smiles back, turning up the charm. "Yes, I'm checking in. Reservation under Nakamura?"
She types for a moment before frowning down at her screen. "I'm sorry, sir, but it appears that-"
"There you are, darling. I thought you'd never come."
Kame barely has time to turn before he's being kissed. With tongue.
←←←
"Your target is Matsumoto Jun, a former agent of this company. He was supposed to be working undercover but has failed to make contact in several months. We suspect he may have gone rogue. Intel says he'll be attending an exclusive party for young, gay socialites on Catalina Island, off the coast of California. You and Akanishi will be posing as fellow attendees. I want you to perform full reconnaissance and tell me what he's up to. If it goes south, I need the two of you in position to neutralize."
"...Akanishi, sir?"
→→→
Akanishi grins. Kame can feel it against his lips.
"Hi to you, too."
"I've missed you," Akanishi murmurs, voice low and sultry and personal. His hands are warm on Kame's waist even through the fabric. The scent of his cologne is musky and dark, wholly inappropriate for the season but somehow utterly appropriate for him. Kame's surprised that he didn't smell Akanishi coming from a mile away-Jin's the only person who'd wear something so flashy-but he supposes it would be more pungent up close.
Kame glances at the receptionist, who's staring at them with wide blue eyes, and clears his throat before pulling away. He doesn't need to pretend to blush.
"We'll just go on up to our suite, then."
"Y-yes, sir," the poor girl stammers back at him. "Please enjoy your stay."
←←←
"You've collaborated once before. I was told that you have excellent chemistry."
"...Yes, sir."
"This won't be a problem, will it, Agent 223?"
"No, sir. Of course not, sir."
→→→
Kame pins Jin in the corner as soon as they get into the elevator. He tries to keep his expression as amorous as possible. The security camera probably only shows his back, but just in case. It'll look like he's pressing Jin into the wall to make out with him or something equally exhibitory.
"What do you think you're doing?"
His partner-Partner, Kame thinks, mildly horrified. Fuck my life.-smirks back, looking impeccable in a half-unbuttoned white shirt and black slacks, hair perfectly styled. Jin always looks good. It'd be troubling if Kame cared. Which he doesn't.
He doesn't.
"I should think that'd be obvious," Akanishi purrs, "honey."
"This is a mission," Kame hisses. "Not a game. We don't have time to screw around."
"On the contrary, I believe we have orders to screw around."
←←←
"Johnny thinks we have excellent chemistry."
Ueda raises an eyebrow from his bench, where he's putting the last touches on the Jimusho's latest technological innovation. "Well, you do."
"But I hate him!" Kame insists. "He's like. The worst person to. I can't even." He makes a frustrated noise. "He's the biggest womanizer in this agency! How did he even get this mission?"
"Well, probably because he's also a top agent," Ueda says philosophically. "Besides, it's just a mission. Switch on. What's the big deal?"
"I can't stand him," Kame says. "He's such an arrogant son of a bitch. Does Johnny want us to kill each other? Is that it? Is this supposed to be a Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing? Matsumoto is just the decoy, and in the end, we shoot each other instead?"
Ueda tilts his head. "Um. At the end of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, they fall in love for real. You know that, right?" He grins like a shark. "Was that a Freudian slip there, Agent Kamenashi?"
"...Oh." Kame huffs, embarrassed. "I've never seen it," he mumbles. "I don't really like Brad Pitt."
→→→
Kame glares at Jin before letting go of his shirt and looking away. "You're unbelievable," he says. "Do you even realize how dangerous this situation is? We could be exposed at any time."
"...Hey." Jin cups Kame's jaw in his hand and tips his head back up. His face is soft, concerned, completely different from how he'd looked a minute ago. "Stop worrying. Okay? Nothing's going to happen."
Kame snorts and looks away again, but Jin uses his other hand to guide him back. "Look, the old man wants us to be a couple. So let's just be a couple. What are they going to do? Yell at us for being too convincing?"
Jin looks expectant, sincere. Really fucking beautiful and way too persuasive.
"Johnny doesn't yell," Kame says at last. "He'd dishonorably discharge us. Or kill us. Or both."
Jin laughs a little and leans forward until their foreheads touch. "I guess he shouldn't find out then."
"That would be bad, yes," Kame agrees.
←←←
It starts at the super, of all places.
Kame's fresh off a round trip flight from Tokyo to Edinburgh via Montenegro via Cairo via Los Angeles. His sense of time is shot to hell. All he really wants is to go home and sleep it off before he has to get up and do it again. Unfortunately, his body's too hungry to let him collapse just yet, so he throws on some sweats and twists his hair up into a messy ponytail for a trip down to the market. It'd be faster to order in or even go somewhere himself, but Kame likes to cook; it reminds him that he can do more with his hands than just kill people.
So there he is with a bag of apples, some cup ramen, and some beef and onions and carrots in his basket (the ramen is really all he ever has time to eat in his own kitchen, but he can dream about curry) when he sees a wallet lying on the counter.
He picks it up while the cashier's ringing up his purchase. The ID inside says "Akanishi Jin" next to a picture of a bored looking young man. His hair is pulled back into a huge curly puff at the back of his head, and his smirk is half-hearted at best. One of those hipster kids, Kame guesses. The listed address is on his way to office, so Kame figures he can drop it by.
It's not entirely surprising when Akanishi doesn't answer the intercom the next morning-he looks like a uni student, so he's probably in class. Kame shrugs. No matter. He can try again when he gets back. If that doesn't work... Well, he should have enough connections to wrangle out a phone number from somewhere.
Secret agents can be good Samaritans, too.
→→→
Their suite is lavish but simple, silk sheets a pristine white to match the pale beech wood furnishings. A small sitting room opens onto a long veranda through wide French doors, white curtains fluttering in the breeze. The bathroom boasts a Jacuzzi complete with fresh red rose petals in a basket on the side.
Kame is kind of amused and appalled at the same time. "I can't believe you actually booked the Honeymoon Suite. I can't believe they let you."
Jin grins. "What better way to celebrate our love?" he croons into Kame's ear before leaving to unpack his bags and equipment.
"You know, some poor newlyweds are going to be very disappointed," Kame says as he puts his own things in order. "Not to mention how the place is going to be bugged in about two minutes. By us. We won't even be able to take full advantage of it."
"Well," Jin replies as he fits a camera to its mount with expedient fingers, "I suppose we'll just have to have our fun elsewhere, then."
←←←
It's almost a week before Kame gets another chance to return Akanishi's wallet. He feels kind of bad, but it's hard to keep these things in mind when he's being shot at.
He gets home at ass o'clock in the morning, but the Director's given him the rest of the day off, so he figures it's a good a time as any. Kame makes sure to clean up and sleep a bit before he goes; no point in terrifying a civilian with his post-mission face. He figures five in the afternoon should be late enough that Akanishi will be home but early enough that he won't be disturbing dinner. Things work out pretty well when he actually gets a response this time.
"Hello?" Akanishi’s voice crackles over the intercom.
"Hi. Uh, sorry, you don't know me, but I found your wallet a little while ago. I wanted to return it?"
"Oh! Oh, thank you so much! Hang on a moment, I'll be right down."
Kame hums a little as he waits. It's nice to be doing something so mundane for once. No ulterior motives, no impending doom. No crazy people trying to take over the world.
When the door opens, Kame finds himself surprised. Driver's license photos don't do anyone justice, but Akanishi doesn't look anything like he'd imagined. In the picture, he seems jaded and snide-Kame had expected him to be a bit of a snobby jackass-but Akanishi in real life stares up at him owlishly from behind clunky glasses. His hair is a messy mop, spilling out from under a beanie topped by the biggest pompom Kame has ever seen. The sweater he's wearing looks like it used to be a blanket or a rug or something; it's huge, shapeless, and just plain strange. The entire outfit should look ridiculous, but somehow it suits him.
"Are you the...?"
"Yeah," Kame replies, handing the wallet over. "Here, you've probably been missing this."
Akanishi takes it and flips through it quickly, looking relieved to find everything intact. "Thanks," he says. "I've been out of town, so I figured I'd just left it at home... I didn't even realize it was actually gone until you called." He laughs sheepishly, and Kame can't help but be charmed. "It's pretty bad, right? I'm so scattered."
"No problem," he says. "It happens." Kame feels like he should maybe say something else, something witty and suave, but he can't think of anything that isn't lame. What do normal people talk about?
"Hey, um... Do you maybe want to come up for a drink or something?" Akanishi pushes his glasses back up, looking nervous and guileless and earnest. "Or dinner, if you haven't eaten. It's the least I can do."
Kame thinks about the fresh cup ramen in his kitchen, the vegetables that have already started going bad.
"Yeah, sure," he says. "Thanks."
→ → →
"Understood."
Jin snaps his phone shut and tosses it back on the table.
"Is everything in place?" Kame shrugs on a black dress shirt and slings a white skinny tie around the collar.
"Yeah. But command says no contact. They're about to crack some new intel, and they want us to wait until they know." Jin eyes Kame's white trousers and dinner jacket. "I guess you're the wife, then?"
Kame scowls. "Shut up. It's summer."
Jin laughs and slips into his own white shirt. "You're such a girl, Kamenashi. Any of the women you seduce ever think you're gay?"
"At least I don't walk like you," Kame snipes back. The cameras and mics are up now, and their every move is being watched, their every word recorded. It'll get old soon, he suspects, but at least bantering with Jin is fun. Pretending to hate him, though, is hard. "All hips and baby steps. Sure you weren't born a girl?"
"Want to find out?" Jin leans against the dresser beside him, close enough to touch but not enough to be intrusive. He's posing, Kame can tell. The curve of his hip is too pronounced, the cock in his head too deliberate. His shirt's still half-unbuttoned-knowing Jin, it's definitely intentional.
Kame's gaze lingers for a moment before turning back to the mirror. "Quit trying to give Koki a show, Akanishi. I'm sure he doesn't care any more than I do."
Jin chuckles low in his throat, dirty and amused, and Kame lets the sound travel down his spine and flush him with warmth like wine.
Fuck this. If they're going to be on assignment together, posing as a fucking couple, Kame will take whatever pleasure he damn well pleases.
...As long as it isn't too visible.
"Ready yet, princess?" Jin's get up is predictable and not all that much different from what he'd worn earlier in the day: long black sport coat over a white shirt (properly tucked in for once), black pendant in place of a tie, black trousers, fedora tipped at an angle over one eye. It's a sharp contrast to Kame's immaculately tailored suit.
Kame frowns at their reflections in the mirror. Possibly too sharp a contrast. By which he means, too neat: a perfect inversion.
"Oh, my god." Jin wrinkles his nose suddenly, and Kame knows he's noticed, too. "We match."
"If I'd worn black, we would've matched, anyway," Kame points out, just to be a pain.
"Well, sure, but everyone wears black. This is just..." Jin makes a face. "You're definitely the wife."
←←←
They meet a couple more times on the train to work. They even get off at the same stop. Kame thinks it's kind of funny they haven't met before, but Tokyo is crowded; it's not that surprising. Besides, they both travel a lot. Jin's always out of town doing research for his thesis, and Kame... Well. Kame's out doing what he needs to do.
Jin, he learns, is just as sweet and absentminded as he'd originally seemed, with a wicked sense of humor to match. His mind jumps from topic to topic like a leapfrog, moving at a million miles a minute. Even though it can be hard to keep up, the conversation is always interesting and delightful. Talking to him is refreshing, because despite all his quirks, Jin is normal. Kame finds himself laughing more and feeling less keyed up. Sometimes, he's even happy to wake up in the morning. He's not depressed or anything, but knowing what he knows can be a heavy business.
The only thing he feels a little guilty for is lying to Jin about his job. As far as Jin knows, Kame works for an insurance agency. He can never find out the truth, of course, but in a way, Kame is almost glad. It's like he has a life of his own again, one that isn't intrinsically tied to saving his country day after day after day.
When Jin confesses about a month later, Kame can't really think of a good reason to say no. Practical reasons, yes: it can't last, it's potentially dangerous for them both, Jin will inevitably ask questions that Kame won't be able to answer. But none of it seems good enough to deny the fact that Jin's the best thing that's happened to him in a long time.
→→→
The chamber orchestra is playing something light and unobtrusive as they enter the dining room. There's a mixer set up onstage, though, for the DJ who'll arrive later. It's a gathering of young men celebrating themselves, after all; no matter how exclusive the party gets, the ultimate point is to get drunk and have fun.
"See him yet?" Jin murmurs.
Kame scans the room. It's still fairly empty-they seem to be early, or perhaps everyone else is simply fashionably late-but thus far, no one resembling Matsumoto is there. "Not yet," he says. "I don't think he's arrived."
"Good," Jin says, grabbing a drink from a passing waiter and downing it in one go. "Come on."
He pulls Kame towards the dance floor, where only a few couples are swaying along to the music. Which is, Kame suddenly realizes, a mellow waltz arrangement of "Bad Romance."
How fitting.
"I didn't think this was your idea of entertainment," he says drily as Jin bows, wraps his arms around Kame's waist, and begins steering them in gentle circles.
"Well." Jin smiles when Kame obligingly links his own hands behind Jin's neck. "I figured this way, we'd look less suspicious keeping an eye on the room."
Clever, Kame thinks. They can even manage a full 360° view this way. "I see. So it's all work, no play?"
Jin laughs. "I thought you might disapprove, so I came up with a logical excuse. Did it work?"
"Hmmm." Kame pulls himself closer until his cheek is resting on Jin's shoulder. "I might need more convincing." Jin laughs again, and it's a solid vibration, rumbling through his chest into Kame's.
←←←
Koki glances up when Kame opens the door. "Agent 223, welcome back."
Kame nods as he takes his seat at the conference room table. "Agent 115."
"Has Johnny briefed you yet?"
"Yeah," Kame says. "You think my case is related to another one?"
Koki turns back to fiddle with the smart board, bringing up the image of Kame's latest target. "Nagasawa Yuriko," he recites, "an overseas operative with many contacts in arms dealing. At first, the case seemed pretty cut and dried, and we dispatched you to take care of it. However, earlier this week, we received intel that she may be involved with this man-" Another image opens up on screen, one Kame hasn't seen before. "Yasuda Nobuaki. He's domestic, under suspicion for managing a network of moles."
Kame understands the implications immediately. "He's selling secrets to her."
"We believe so, yes." Koki crosses his arms and frowns at the two faces staring out from the board. "As soon as Agent 704 arrives, he can give us more details about Nobuaki, and we will proceed from there before reporting to the Director."
Almost immediately, the door opens, and a man who is presumably Agent 704 steps in. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. 115, always a pleasure." He turns to Kame. "And you must be..."
704 trails off when he gets a good look at Kame.
Kame doesn't reply. He's getting a pretty good look, too, and he thinks he's staring into the face of Akanishi Jin.
→→→
"Target confirmed, six o'clock," Jin murmurs halfway through a cover of "Lover's Spit." It's quite beautiful; the piano bass is strong and steady, the violin melody fading sweetly in and out, viola harmony trailing after. "Your six o'clock," Jin adds helpfully.
Kame lets him maneuver them around so that he can see. Sure enough, Matsumoto Jun is sitting at a dining table with what appears to be an entire coterie of suitors. He's much more handsome in person than in pictures; there's something mesmerizing about him, less irritating without an automatic sneer on his lips. His cheekbones, in particular, are quite incredible.
"Didn't you say you were hungry, dear?" Kame asks casually, eying the buffet of refreshments in the back, conveniently placed right behind where Matsumoto is sitting.
"Absolutely famished," Jin says before offering his arm. "Shall we?"
Kame grins and slides his hand into the crook of Jin's elbow. "I think you're enjoying this a little too much."
"The party?"
"Wearing the pants."
←←←
Somewhere in Kame's apartment, a clock is ticking. The sound doesn't echo exactly, but it's loud in a way he has never noticed before. As the silence stretches on in Kame's living room, it's the only thing he can hear.
Perhaps it's time to switch to digital.
Jin sits on the edge of Kame's couch, stiff and formal in his suit. His hair is neat and combed; no cap-covered mess. Kame wonders, briefly, if this could possibly be the same person he has known for almost three months now, two of which were spent rather intimately.
The moment he'd seen Jin in the office, the day had begun to seem like a dream; neither good nor bad, simply unreal. Listening to him speak at length, calmly, confidently, with none of his characteristic levity, about subjects Kame has buried within himself, never mentioned outside the walls of the Jimusho. Seeing him stand straight at his full height, no slouch or afghan-patterned jacket to weigh him down.
It'd felt like a different world.
They'd taken the same train on the way back, standing together without speaking until the announcer had called out Jin's stop. Only then had Kame looked up to see Jin deliberately ignore it. He wasn't surprised. The doors closed, and the train moved on.
Climbing up the stairs had been a likewise hushed affair, three flights of just steps, then the clunk of bolts tumbling into place at Kame's door, then the infernal ticking of that damned clock.
"I don't." Jin's voice breaks in the quiet, and he stops as if to absorb the shock. "This is unexpected," he says finally.
"...Yes." Kame doesn't have anything else to say.
"I would offer an explanation," Jin continues. "But you don't really need one, do you."
"No," says Kame. "I suppose not."
And he doesn't because... He wants to laugh. Why would he? Who could possibly understand better than him? This entire time, they've been tiptoeing around each other, lying to maintain elaborate excuses when they've been keeping the same secrets all along.
This is way too complicated.
Kame sighs, puts his head in his hands. "I need a drink."
→→→
The party is in full swing by the time Kame's finished with his second glass of wine, packed with beautiful rich boys who are getting more than a little rowdy with each other. There is no polite mingling here. The orchestra has long since retired, and the sound system has taken its place, a preselected party mix blaring over the speakers.
Two tables away, Matsumoto is still holding court with his admirers. There's no way to get closer; his fans have commandeered the space around him. It's too loud to hear what's being said from where they're sitting, but Matsumoto's audience is large enough and amused enough that Kame's fairly sure it's just wit and flirtation, nothing too serious.
Yet, anyway.
"I wish we had audio," Jin whispers in his ear, hand sliding slowly up Kame's thigh.
"If wishes were fishes," Kame retorts, tilting his head to let Jin kiss the corner of his jaw.
"That's not a word," Jin says.
Kame gives him the narrowest, sluttiest look he's capable of. "A vocabulary lesson? Really, Mr. Akanishi?"
"We could continue it upstairs." Jin glances to the side beneath lowered lashes before leaning forward to kiss him. "If you'd like."
Kame watches as Matsumoto passes by behind Jin's head, a pretty redheaded twin on each arm. He's about to reply when his chair is jostled from behind, and a hand lands heavily on his shoulder.
"Hey." A blond kid grins down at them, eyes wide, pupils blown, high as a kite. "You're really pretty."
Jin scowls. "He's taken," he says curtly in faintly accented English, taking Kame's hand and standing. "And we're leaving."
"Awwww, come on!" The kid latches onto Kame's other arm and refuses to let go. "Quit being so boring. He won't mind if you share. Will you?"
Matsumoto's already at the door, laughing with the host. He won't stay much longer. "We're exclusive. Sorry," Kame tells the kid, tripping over the "l"s and "r"s. Goddamn, maybe he does need a vocabulary lesson. He's better at French.
The kid starts looking annoyed. "Well, I don't know who you think you are," he begins pompously, "but-"
Kame rolls his eyes at Jin's warning glare and twists away neatly, pressing his fingers into the kid's neck over the arteries. The kid goes down in a matter of seconds, and Kame lowers him slowly into the chair to recover.
When they look back up, Matsumoto's already gone.
←←←
"Fuck me," says Jin. He slumps back against the sofa with no care for his very nice, very pressed suit. "How does this even happen."
Kame squints down into his bottle. "You're going to ruin your clothes."
Jin snorts but takes off his jacket and tosses it onto the cushions.
Silence.
"You know," Jin says slowly, breaking the silence again. Kame isn't sure where he's getting so many words from, because his own brain is pretty much refusing to function right now. "I always thought you were the one ordinary part of my life."
...This is ridiculous, Kame thinks, a little bit hysterical. This is ridiculous because that's exactly what Jin had been for Kame. They are probably two of the least ordinary people in the entire city of Tokyo-and knowing Tokyo, that's saying something-yet they've been anchoring each other's sense of normality. Which really just goes to show how much either of them knows about being normal.
He flops over, scrutinizes this new Jin, lists out all the differences and similarities, comparing what he thought with what he knows now. There are so many small things that don't match up. How had he never noticed? Was Jin really that good, or had he let his guard so far down?
The only upside in this entire situation is that at least he knows Jin isn't an enemy. But that doesn't make him a friend, either.
"You were so weird," Kame says, the words a surprise even to himself. "I thought. It never even occurred to me, you were so fucking weird. But that was all a lie, right?"
Jin looks down and fidgets with his glass before looking up again, eyes dark and piercing in a way Kame's never seen before. Because Kame's never really seen him. "Yes," he says, "kind of. A little bit. It's just. It's nice to imagine what I might've been like, if I'd never." He gestures helplessly. "You know. If the Jimusho had never happened to me."
And damn it, Kame wishes he didn't understand completely, but he does. He wonders, too, sometimes; he suspects they all do, except for maybe Director Johnny, who's already of an indeterminate age and still running the place with an iron fist.
Shit. Johnny.
"Oh, fuck." Kame presses his hands against his face for what must be the billionth time in the past hour. "What are we going to do? About Johnny?"
It's a moment before Jin replies, but when he does his voice is thoughtful, steady. "I don't know," he says. "I suppose that depends on what we are. What we want to be."
Kame stares at Jin. He seems to be doing a lot of that lately. "Is there still a 'we'?" he asks cautiously.
Jin stares back at him. "I hope so," he says. "It's up to you."
Kame considers it for a moment. Considers three months of curry from the restaurant down the street; of walks in the park and running around the children's playground messing with the swings; of coming home to a bright smile and really great sex. Of feeling at peace or something like it for the first time since he made special status.
"Yes," he says. "Yes. I want there to be."
→→→
By the time they get to the lobby, Matsumoto is nowhere to be seen.
The good thing is that Matsumoto is definitely still in the hotel. The bad thing is that they have no clue where he's gone or which room he's staying in and no way to track him down.
Jin swears under his breath. "No man, no bug. We're blind."
"We've got four days," Kame reminds him, tugging him around by the elbow and heading for the elevator.
"Three," says Jin. "Today counts as one."
Kame pulls him through the doors as soon as they open. "Whatever," he continues. "My point is, we can go back and check if intel has anything for us yet. Then we should change and take a walk around the perimeter, just in case."
Jin smirks. "Are you asking me out on a moonlit stroll?"
"There's even a beach involved," Kame says in his most promising voice.
"Well, when you put it that way..." Jin reaches out and tucks a wayward piece of Kame's hair back behind his ear. "You look really great tonight, by the way. I didn't get a chance to say so earlier."
Kame feels the blood rush to his cheeks like he's some middle school girl. "Thanks," he says awkwardly. "You, too." How Jin switches so effortlessly between consummate agent, incorrigible flirt, and earnest cavalier is a mystery to him; a very compelling mystery.
And Jin knows, damn him. A Cheshire grin is already unfurling across his face, like he spends an hour a day plotting out ways to take Kame by surprise-which wouldn't be shocking at all-as he leans down to steal yet another kiss.
(Just because Kame tilts his head willingly doesn't make it any more of a legal acquisition.)
"You're an awful person," Kame tells him.
Jin blinks. "Because I love you?"
"Bec- No! Shut up!" Kame flushes some more because, apparently, he is not an incredibly experienced secret agent who has been confessed to before. "I hate you!"
Jin is still laughing at him when the elevator bell dings, marking their arrival on the 9th floor.
"You are the worst-" Kame is mid-rant, about to step off the car, when Jin pulls him back abruptly, expression suddenly stony. He turns to find one barrel aimed at his face and another aimed at Jin's.
"Hello, boys," Matsumoto says cheerfully. "Took you long enough to get here."
By: gothicauthor
Pairing: Akame
Rating: PG-13
Genre/Warnings: AU, spoilers for the end of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, slaughtering of Bond-inspired tropes, craptastic guesswork at spy life
Notes: You said not to make it too easy, so... Um. I apologize in advance, spurious. x.x I am a terrible person. I hope you can accept this. >.<
On a more technical note, the page breaks indicate time shifts: Right is forward, left is back.
Also, a huge thanks to my beta, who is seriously the most incredible person ever.
Summary: Things get a little awkward when Johnny tells Kame that he has to go undercover with Akanishi.
"Agent Kamenashi."
"Sir."
"This mission is... different. It will require great delicacy."
"Yes, sir."
"It will also be difficult. That's why you won't be working alone."
"Sir?"
"I'm sending you in with Akanishi."
→→→
The humidity is like a smack in the face as Kame steps out of his car, even despite the sea breeze. It's six o'clock, but the sun is still baking, soaking into the cement and well-appointed gardens. He's already sweltering in his pale blue polo, missing the air conditioned coolness of the very sleek, very sexy Aston Martin behind him, door still ajar and waiting for the valet.
Alas, duty calls.
Kame obligingly tosses the keys to the young man who runs up and tucks his hands in his pockets before strolling up the steps. The hotel lobby is predictably full of marble, the lines spare and expensive.
"Welcome to the Villa Regalis. May I help you, sir?"
Clearly, whoever named it had never taken Latin, but that's not the receptionist's fault. She's a pretty girl, in a standard blonde sort of way. The look she gives him is hopefully attentive, though-earnest-and it makes him like her. He smiles back, turning up the charm. "Yes, I'm checking in. Reservation under Nakamura?"
She types for a moment before frowning down at her screen. "I'm sorry, sir, but it appears that-"
"There you are, darling. I thought you'd never come."
Kame barely has time to turn before he's being kissed. With tongue.
←←←
"Your target is Matsumoto Jun, a former agent of this company. He was supposed to be working undercover but has failed to make contact in several months. We suspect he may have gone rogue. Intel says he'll be attending an exclusive party for young, gay socialites on Catalina Island, off the coast of California. You and Akanishi will be posing as fellow attendees. I want you to perform full reconnaissance and tell me what he's up to. If it goes south, I need the two of you in position to neutralize."
"...Akanishi, sir?"
→→→
Akanishi grins. Kame can feel it against his lips.
"Hi to you, too."
"I've missed you," Akanishi murmurs, voice low and sultry and personal. His hands are warm on Kame's waist even through the fabric. The scent of his cologne is musky and dark, wholly inappropriate for the season but somehow utterly appropriate for him. Kame's surprised that he didn't smell Akanishi coming from a mile away-Jin's the only person who'd wear something so flashy-but he supposes it would be more pungent up close.
Kame glances at the receptionist, who's staring at them with wide blue eyes, and clears his throat before pulling away. He doesn't need to pretend to blush.
"We'll just go on up to our suite, then."
"Y-yes, sir," the poor girl stammers back at him. "Please enjoy your stay."
←←←
"You've collaborated once before. I was told that you have excellent chemistry."
"...Yes, sir."
"This won't be a problem, will it, Agent 223?"
"No, sir. Of course not, sir."
→→→
Kame pins Jin in the corner as soon as they get into the elevator. He tries to keep his expression as amorous as possible. The security camera probably only shows his back, but just in case. It'll look like he's pressing Jin into the wall to make out with him or something equally exhibitory.
"What do you think you're doing?"
His partner-Partner, Kame thinks, mildly horrified. Fuck my life.-smirks back, looking impeccable in a half-unbuttoned white shirt and black slacks, hair perfectly styled. Jin always looks good. It'd be troubling if Kame cared. Which he doesn't.
He doesn't.
"I should think that'd be obvious," Akanishi purrs, "honey."
"This is a mission," Kame hisses. "Not a game. We don't have time to screw around."
"On the contrary, I believe we have orders to screw around."
←←←
"Johnny thinks we have excellent chemistry."
Ueda raises an eyebrow from his bench, where he's putting the last touches on the Jimusho's latest technological innovation. "Well, you do."
"But I hate him!" Kame insists. "He's like. The worst person to. I can't even." He makes a frustrated noise. "He's the biggest womanizer in this agency! How did he even get this mission?"
"Well, probably because he's also a top agent," Ueda says philosophically. "Besides, it's just a mission. Switch on. What's the big deal?"
"I can't stand him," Kame says. "He's such an arrogant son of a bitch. Does Johnny want us to kill each other? Is that it? Is this supposed to be a Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing? Matsumoto is just the decoy, and in the end, we shoot each other instead?"
Ueda tilts his head. "Um. At the end of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, they fall in love for real. You know that, right?" He grins like a shark. "Was that a Freudian slip there, Agent Kamenashi?"
"...Oh." Kame huffs, embarrassed. "I've never seen it," he mumbles. "I don't really like Brad Pitt."
→→→
Kame glares at Jin before letting go of his shirt and looking away. "You're unbelievable," he says. "Do you even realize how dangerous this situation is? We could be exposed at any time."
"...Hey." Jin cups Kame's jaw in his hand and tips his head back up. His face is soft, concerned, completely different from how he'd looked a minute ago. "Stop worrying. Okay? Nothing's going to happen."
Kame snorts and looks away again, but Jin uses his other hand to guide him back. "Look, the old man wants us to be a couple. So let's just be a couple. What are they going to do? Yell at us for being too convincing?"
Jin looks expectant, sincere. Really fucking beautiful and way too persuasive.
"Johnny doesn't yell," Kame says at last. "He'd dishonorably discharge us. Or kill us. Or both."
Jin laughs a little and leans forward until their foreheads touch. "I guess he shouldn't find out then."
"That would be bad, yes," Kame agrees.
←←←
It starts at the super, of all places.
Kame's fresh off a round trip flight from Tokyo to Edinburgh via Montenegro via Cairo via Los Angeles. His sense of time is shot to hell. All he really wants is to go home and sleep it off before he has to get up and do it again. Unfortunately, his body's too hungry to let him collapse just yet, so he throws on some sweats and twists his hair up into a messy ponytail for a trip down to the market. It'd be faster to order in or even go somewhere himself, but Kame likes to cook; it reminds him that he can do more with his hands than just kill people.
So there he is with a bag of apples, some cup ramen, and some beef and onions and carrots in his basket (the ramen is really all he ever has time to eat in his own kitchen, but he can dream about curry) when he sees a wallet lying on the counter.
He picks it up while the cashier's ringing up his purchase. The ID inside says "Akanishi Jin" next to a picture of a bored looking young man. His hair is pulled back into a huge curly puff at the back of his head, and his smirk is half-hearted at best. One of those hipster kids, Kame guesses. The listed address is on his way to office, so Kame figures he can drop it by.
It's not entirely surprising when Akanishi doesn't answer the intercom the next morning-he looks like a uni student, so he's probably in class. Kame shrugs. No matter. He can try again when he gets back. If that doesn't work... Well, he should have enough connections to wrangle out a phone number from somewhere.
Secret agents can be good Samaritans, too.
→→→
Their suite is lavish but simple, silk sheets a pristine white to match the pale beech wood furnishings. A small sitting room opens onto a long veranda through wide French doors, white curtains fluttering in the breeze. The bathroom boasts a Jacuzzi complete with fresh red rose petals in a basket on the side.
Kame is kind of amused and appalled at the same time. "I can't believe you actually booked the Honeymoon Suite. I can't believe they let you."
Jin grins. "What better way to celebrate our love?" he croons into Kame's ear before leaving to unpack his bags and equipment.
"You know, some poor newlyweds are going to be very disappointed," Kame says as he puts his own things in order. "Not to mention how the place is going to be bugged in about two minutes. By us. We won't even be able to take full advantage of it."
"Well," Jin replies as he fits a camera to its mount with expedient fingers, "I suppose we'll just have to have our fun elsewhere, then."
←←←
It's almost a week before Kame gets another chance to return Akanishi's wallet. He feels kind of bad, but it's hard to keep these things in mind when he's being shot at.
He gets home at ass o'clock in the morning, but the Director's given him the rest of the day off, so he figures it's a good a time as any. Kame makes sure to clean up and sleep a bit before he goes; no point in terrifying a civilian with his post-mission face. He figures five in the afternoon should be late enough that Akanishi will be home but early enough that he won't be disturbing dinner. Things work out pretty well when he actually gets a response this time.
"Hello?" Akanishi’s voice crackles over the intercom.
"Hi. Uh, sorry, you don't know me, but I found your wallet a little while ago. I wanted to return it?"
"Oh! Oh, thank you so much! Hang on a moment, I'll be right down."
Kame hums a little as he waits. It's nice to be doing something so mundane for once. No ulterior motives, no impending doom. No crazy people trying to take over the world.
When the door opens, Kame finds himself surprised. Driver's license photos don't do anyone justice, but Akanishi doesn't look anything like he'd imagined. In the picture, he seems jaded and snide-Kame had expected him to be a bit of a snobby jackass-but Akanishi in real life stares up at him owlishly from behind clunky glasses. His hair is a messy mop, spilling out from under a beanie topped by the biggest pompom Kame has ever seen. The sweater he's wearing looks like it used to be a blanket or a rug or something; it's huge, shapeless, and just plain strange. The entire outfit should look ridiculous, but somehow it suits him.
"Are you the...?"
"Yeah," Kame replies, handing the wallet over. "Here, you've probably been missing this."
Akanishi takes it and flips through it quickly, looking relieved to find everything intact. "Thanks," he says. "I've been out of town, so I figured I'd just left it at home... I didn't even realize it was actually gone until you called." He laughs sheepishly, and Kame can't help but be charmed. "It's pretty bad, right? I'm so scattered."
"No problem," he says. "It happens." Kame feels like he should maybe say something else, something witty and suave, but he can't think of anything that isn't lame. What do normal people talk about?
"Hey, um... Do you maybe want to come up for a drink or something?" Akanishi pushes his glasses back up, looking nervous and guileless and earnest. "Or dinner, if you haven't eaten. It's the least I can do."
Kame thinks about the fresh cup ramen in his kitchen, the vegetables that have already started going bad.
"Yeah, sure," he says. "Thanks."
→ → →
"Understood."
Jin snaps his phone shut and tosses it back on the table.
"Is everything in place?" Kame shrugs on a black dress shirt and slings a white skinny tie around the collar.
"Yeah. But command says no contact. They're about to crack some new intel, and they want us to wait until they know." Jin eyes Kame's white trousers and dinner jacket. "I guess you're the wife, then?"
Kame scowls. "Shut up. It's summer."
Jin laughs and slips into his own white shirt. "You're such a girl, Kamenashi. Any of the women you seduce ever think you're gay?"
"At least I don't walk like you," Kame snipes back. The cameras and mics are up now, and their every move is being watched, their every word recorded. It'll get old soon, he suspects, but at least bantering with Jin is fun. Pretending to hate him, though, is hard. "All hips and baby steps. Sure you weren't born a girl?"
"Want to find out?" Jin leans against the dresser beside him, close enough to touch but not enough to be intrusive. He's posing, Kame can tell. The curve of his hip is too pronounced, the cock in his head too deliberate. His shirt's still half-unbuttoned-knowing Jin, it's definitely intentional.
Kame's gaze lingers for a moment before turning back to the mirror. "Quit trying to give Koki a show, Akanishi. I'm sure he doesn't care any more than I do."
Jin chuckles low in his throat, dirty and amused, and Kame lets the sound travel down his spine and flush him with warmth like wine.
Fuck this. If they're going to be on assignment together, posing as a fucking couple, Kame will take whatever pleasure he damn well pleases.
...As long as it isn't too visible.
"Ready yet, princess?" Jin's get up is predictable and not all that much different from what he'd worn earlier in the day: long black sport coat over a white shirt (properly tucked in for once), black pendant in place of a tie, black trousers, fedora tipped at an angle over one eye. It's a sharp contrast to Kame's immaculately tailored suit.
Kame frowns at their reflections in the mirror. Possibly too sharp a contrast. By which he means, too neat: a perfect inversion.
"Oh, my god." Jin wrinkles his nose suddenly, and Kame knows he's noticed, too. "We match."
"If I'd worn black, we would've matched, anyway," Kame points out, just to be a pain.
"Well, sure, but everyone wears black. This is just..." Jin makes a face. "You're definitely the wife."
←←←
They meet a couple more times on the train to work. They even get off at the same stop. Kame thinks it's kind of funny they haven't met before, but Tokyo is crowded; it's not that surprising. Besides, they both travel a lot. Jin's always out of town doing research for his thesis, and Kame... Well. Kame's out doing what he needs to do.
Jin, he learns, is just as sweet and absentminded as he'd originally seemed, with a wicked sense of humor to match. His mind jumps from topic to topic like a leapfrog, moving at a million miles a minute. Even though it can be hard to keep up, the conversation is always interesting and delightful. Talking to him is refreshing, because despite all his quirks, Jin is normal. Kame finds himself laughing more and feeling less keyed up. Sometimes, he's even happy to wake up in the morning. He's not depressed or anything, but knowing what he knows can be a heavy business.
The only thing he feels a little guilty for is lying to Jin about his job. As far as Jin knows, Kame works for an insurance agency. He can never find out the truth, of course, but in a way, Kame is almost glad. It's like he has a life of his own again, one that isn't intrinsically tied to saving his country day after day after day.
When Jin confesses about a month later, Kame can't really think of a good reason to say no. Practical reasons, yes: it can't last, it's potentially dangerous for them both, Jin will inevitably ask questions that Kame won't be able to answer. But none of it seems good enough to deny the fact that Jin's the best thing that's happened to him in a long time.
→→→
The chamber orchestra is playing something light and unobtrusive as they enter the dining room. There's a mixer set up onstage, though, for the DJ who'll arrive later. It's a gathering of young men celebrating themselves, after all; no matter how exclusive the party gets, the ultimate point is to get drunk and have fun.
"See him yet?" Jin murmurs.
Kame scans the room. It's still fairly empty-they seem to be early, or perhaps everyone else is simply fashionably late-but thus far, no one resembling Matsumoto is there. "Not yet," he says. "I don't think he's arrived."
"Good," Jin says, grabbing a drink from a passing waiter and downing it in one go. "Come on."
He pulls Kame towards the dance floor, where only a few couples are swaying along to the music. Which is, Kame suddenly realizes, a mellow waltz arrangement of "Bad Romance."
How fitting.
"I didn't think this was your idea of entertainment," he says drily as Jin bows, wraps his arms around Kame's waist, and begins steering them in gentle circles.
"Well." Jin smiles when Kame obligingly links his own hands behind Jin's neck. "I figured this way, we'd look less suspicious keeping an eye on the room."
Clever, Kame thinks. They can even manage a full 360° view this way. "I see. So it's all work, no play?"
Jin laughs. "I thought you might disapprove, so I came up with a logical excuse. Did it work?"
"Hmmm." Kame pulls himself closer until his cheek is resting on Jin's shoulder. "I might need more convincing." Jin laughs again, and it's a solid vibration, rumbling through his chest into Kame's.
←←←
Koki glances up when Kame opens the door. "Agent 223, welcome back."
Kame nods as he takes his seat at the conference room table. "Agent 115."
"Has Johnny briefed you yet?"
"Yeah," Kame says. "You think my case is related to another one?"
Koki turns back to fiddle with the smart board, bringing up the image of Kame's latest target. "Nagasawa Yuriko," he recites, "an overseas operative with many contacts in arms dealing. At first, the case seemed pretty cut and dried, and we dispatched you to take care of it. However, earlier this week, we received intel that she may be involved with this man-" Another image opens up on screen, one Kame hasn't seen before. "Yasuda Nobuaki. He's domestic, under suspicion for managing a network of moles."
Kame understands the implications immediately. "He's selling secrets to her."
"We believe so, yes." Koki crosses his arms and frowns at the two faces staring out from the board. "As soon as Agent 704 arrives, he can give us more details about Nobuaki, and we will proceed from there before reporting to the Director."
Almost immediately, the door opens, and a man who is presumably Agent 704 steps in. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. 115, always a pleasure." He turns to Kame. "And you must be..."
704 trails off when he gets a good look at Kame.
Kame doesn't reply. He's getting a pretty good look, too, and he thinks he's staring into the face of Akanishi Jin.
→→→
"Target confirmed, six o'clock," Jin murmurs halfway through a cover of "Lover's Spit." It's quite beautiful; the piano bass is strong and steady, the violin melody fading sweetly in and out, viola harmony trailing after. "Your six o'clock," Jin adds helpfully.
Kame lets him maneuver them around so that he can see. Sure enough, Matsumoto Jun is sitting at a dining table with what appears to be an entire coterie of suitors. He's much more handsome in person than in pictures; there's something mesmerizing about him, less irritating without an automatic sneer on his lips. His cheekbones, in particular, are quite incredible.
"Didn't you say you were hungry, dear?" Kame asks casually, eying the buffet of refreshments in the back, conveniently placed right behind where Matsumoto is sitting.
"Absolutely famished," Jin says before offering his arm. "Shall we?"
Kame grins and slides his hand into the crook of Jin's elbow. "I think you're enjoying this a little too much."
"The party?"
"Wearing the pants."
←←←
Somewhere in Kame's apartment, a clock is ticking. The sound doesn't echo exactly, but it's loud in a way he has never noticed before. As the silence stretches on in Kame's living room, it's the only thing he can hear.
Perhaps it's time to switch to digital.
Jin sits on the edge of Kame's couch, stiff and formal in his suit. His hair is neat and combed; no cap-covered mess. Kame wonders, briefly, if this could possibly be the same person he has known for almost three months now, two of which were spent rather intimately.
The moment he'd seen Jin in the office, the day had begun to seem like a dream; neither good nor bad, simply unreal. Listening to him speak at length, calmly, confidently, with none of his characteristic levity, about subjects Kame has buried within himself, never mentioned outside the walls of the Jimusho. Seeing him stand straight at his full height, no slouch or afghan-patterned jacket to weigh him down.
It'd felt like a different world.
They'd taken the same train on the way back, standing together without speaking until the announcer had called out Jin's stop. Only then had Kame looked up to see Jin deliberately ignore it. He wasn't surprised. The doors closed, and the train moved on.
Climbing up the stairs had been a likewise hushed affair, three flights of just steps, then the clunk of bolts tumbling into place at Kame's door, then the infernal ticking of that damned clock.
"I don't." Jin's voice breaks in the quiet, and he stops as if to absorb the shock. "This is unexpected," he says finally.
"...Yes." Kame doesn't have anything else to say.
"I would offer an explanation," Jin continues. "But you don't really need one, do you."
"No," says Kame. "I suppose not."
And he doesn't because... He wants to laugh. Why would he? Who could possibly understand better than him? This entire time, they've been tiptoeing around each other, lying to maintain elaborate excuses when they've been keeping the same secrets all along.
This is way too complicated.
Kame sighs, puts his head in his hands. "I need a drink."
→→→
The party is in full swing by the time Kame's finished with his second glass of wine, packed with beautiful rich boys who are getting more than a little rowdy with each other. There is no polite mingling here. The orchestra has long since retired, and the sound system has taken its place, a preselected party mix blaring over the speakers.
Two tables away, Matsumoto is still holding court with his admirers. There's no way to get closer; his fans have commandeered the space around him. It's too loud to hear what's being said from where they're sitting, but Matsumoto's audience is large enough and amused enough that Kame's fairly sure it's just wit and flirtation, nothing too serious.
Yet, anyway.
"I wish we had audio," Jin whispers in his ear, hand sliding slowly up Kame's thigh.
"If wishes were fishes," Kame retorts, tilting his head to let Jin kiss the corner of his jaw.
"That's not a word," Jin says.
Kame gives him the narrowest, sluttiest look he's capable of. "A vocabulary lesson? Really, Mr. Akanishi?"
"We could continue it upstairs." Jin glances to the side beneath lowered lashes before leaning forward to kiss him. "If you'd like."
Kame watches as Matsumoto passes by behind Jin's head, a pretty redheaded twin on each arm. He's about to reply when his chair is jostled from behind, and a hand lands heavily on his shoulder.
"Hey." A blond kid grins down at them, eyes wide, pupils blown, high as a kite. "You're really pretty."
Jin scowls. "He's taken," he says curtly in faintly accented English, taking Kame's hand and standing. "And we're leaving."
"Awwww, come on!" The kid latches onto Kame's other arm and refuses to let go. "Quit being so boring. He won't mind if you share. Will you?"
Matsumoto's already at the door, laughing with the host. He won't stay much longer. "We're exclusive. Sorry," Kame tells the kid, tripping over the "l"s and "r"s. Goddamn, maybe he does need a vocabulary lesson. He's better at French.
The kid starts looking annoyed. "Well, I don't know who you think you are," he begins pompously, "but-"
Kame rolls his eyes at Jin's warning glare and twists away neatly, pressing his fingers into the kid's neck over the arteries. The kid goes down in a matter of seconds, and Kame lowers him slowly into the chair to recover.
When they look back up, Matsumoto's already gone.
←←←
"Fuck me," says Jin. He slumps back against the sofa with no care for his very nice, very pressed suit. "How does this even happen."
Kame squints down into his bottle. "You're going to ruin your clothes."
Jin snorts but takes off his jacket and tosses it onto the cushions.
Silence.
"You know," Jin says slowly, breaking the silence again. Kame isn't sure where he's getting so many words from, because his own brain is pretty much refusing to function right now. "I always thought you were the one ordinary part of my life."
...This is ridiculous, Kame thinks, a little bit hysterical. This is ridiculous because that's exactly what Jin had been for Kame. They are probably two of the least ordinary people in the entire city of Tokyo-and knowing Tokyo, that's saying something-yet they've been anchoring each other's sense of normality. Which really just goes to show how much either of them knows about being normal.
He flops over, scrutinizes this new Jin, lists out all the differences and similarities, comparing what he thought with what he knows now. There are so many small things that don't match up. How had he never noticed? Was Jin really that good, or had he let his guard so far down?
The only upside in this entire situation is that at least he knows Jin isn't an enemy. But that doesn't make him a friend, either.
"You were so weird," Kame says, the words a surprise even to himself. "I thought. It never even occurred to me, you were so fucking weird. But that was all a lie, right?"
Jin looks down and fidgets with his glass before looking up again, eyes dark and piercing in a way Kame's never seen before. Because Kame's never really seen him. "Yes," he says, "kind of. A little bit. It's just. It's nice to imagine what I might've been like, if I'd never." He gestures helplessly. "You know. If the Jimusho had never happened to me."
And damn it, Kame wishes he didn't understand completely, but he does. He wonders, too, sometimes; he suspects they all do, except for maybe Director Johnny, who's already of an indeterminate age and still running the place with an iron fist.
Shit. Johnny.
"Oh, fuck." Kame presses his hands against his face for what must be the billionth time in the past hour. "What are we going to do? About Johnny?"
It's a moment before Jin replies, but when he does his voice is thoughtful, steady. "I don't know," he says. "I suppose that depends on what we are. What we want to be."
Kame stares at Jin. He seems to be doing a lot of that lately. "Is there still a 'we'?" he asks cautiously.
Jin stares back at him. "I hope so," he says. "It's up to you."
Kame considers it for a moment. Considers three months of curry from the restaurant down the street; of walks in the park and running around the children's playground messing with the swings; of coming home to a bright smile and really great sex. Of feeling at peace or something like it for the first time since he made special status.
"Yes," he says. "Yes. I want there to be."
→→→
By the time they get to the lobby, Matsumoto is nowhere to be seen.
The good thing is that Matsumoto is definitely still in the hotel. The bad thing is that they have no clue where he's gone or which room he's staying in and no way to track him down.
Jin swears under his breath. "No man, no bug. We're blind."
"We've got four days," Kame reminds him, tugging him around by the elbow and heading for the elevator.
"Three," says Jin. "Today counts as one."
Kame pulls him through the doors as soon as they open. "Whatever," he continues. "My point is, we can go back and check if intel has anything for us yet. Then we should change and take a walk around the perimeter, just in case."
Jin smirks. "Are you asking me out on a moonlit stroll?"
"There's even a beach involved," Kame says in his most promising voice.
"Well, when you put it that way..." Jin reaches out and tucks a wayward piece of Kame's hair back behind his ear. "You look really great tonight, by the way. I didn't get a chance to say so earlier."
Kame feels the blood rush to his cheeks like he's some middle school girl. "Thanks," he says awkwardly. "You, too." How Jin switches so effortlessly between consummate agent, incorrigible flirt, and earnest cavalier is a mystery to him; a very compelling mystery.
And Jin knows, damn him. A Cheshire grin is already unfurling across his face, like he spends an hour a day plotting out ways to take Kame by surprise-which wouldn't be shocking at all-as he leans down to steal yet another kiss.
(Just because Kame tilts his head willingly doesn't make it any more of a legal acquisition.)
"You're an awful person," Kame tells him.
Jin blinks. "Because I love you?"
"Bec- No! Shut up!" Kame flushes some more because, apparently, he is not an incredibly experienced secret agent who has been confessed to before. "I hate you!"
Jin is still laughing at him when the elevator bell dings, marking their arrival on the 9th floor.
"You are the worst-" Kame is mid-rant, about to step off the car, when Jin pulls him back abruptly, expression suddenly stony. He turns to find one barrel aimed at his face and another aimed at Jin's.
"Hello, boys," Matsumoto says cheerfully. "Took you long enough to get here."