“Your favorite superhero can’t be a villain.” Murder husbands :D
JK it was supposed to be “Don’t touch me we’re fighting.”
rating kind of T for swears and light mentions of violence
Sugawara stares down at the pile of scattered notes on his table as if the force of his glare alone would be enough to start them on fire. Or disintegrate them. Or maybe just make them vanish like a cool magic trick. Akira really isn’t sure which look Sugawara is going for. Or if he’s actually going for a particular look. Akira had only gotten back last night from a two week long job and had promptly passed out his bed and slept the last - he glances at the clock on the stove for confirmation - yep, he was asleep for thirteen hours.
The fact that the other two let him sleep that long should have been his first clue something had happened while he was gone.
The fact that he had woken up alone, regardless of the hour, should have been his second glaringly obvious indication.
But it isn’t until Kouta peeks into the kitchen from the balcony and gives Sugawara a shy smile that it really hits him that something is wrong. Kouta sees Akira and gives him a blinding smile as he slips into the kitchen from the balcony. Sugawara barely glances up as Kouta kisses Akira’s cheek and murmurs a gentle “Welcome home,” against his skin.
Akira wants to sink into Kouta’s warmth and just forget about the world while Kouta lavishes him with attention. And he does a little. He lets Kouta drag his weight across the kitchen towards the table. But the tenseness of Sugawara’s shoulders and the way he goes completely still as they approach sends warning flares straight down Akira’s spine; the last time he had seen Sugawara that still Sugawara had been pressing a blade against his throat and promising all manner of lengthy and messy conclusions should Akira refuse to back down or should he go back on his word.
Kouta stops with his hand inches from Sugawara’s shoulder.
“I told you I had nothing to do with it. I didn’t even know they had put my name on it until you brought it to me.”
“And I told you we weren’t going to have any connections like that anymore. You promised me we weren’t going to have connections like that anymore.”
Akira watches the way Kouta’s fingers don’t tremble even as he sighs softly and curls them before dropping his hand to his side. He knows he’s missing something, a big something at that, but he can’t bring himself to interrupt and find out what exactly.
“Well,” Kouta starts, “they’re not so much connections as-”
Sugawara pushes himself to his feet, hands planted on the table, and turns that glare on Kouta. Who is a much stronger man than Akira because he doesn’t even flinch when Sugawara leans heavily on his hands and hisses; as much as Akira has come to stand on equal footing with the other man, Sugawara worked into a pissed off eerily calm rage still sends every warning and fight or flight response in his body into overdrive.
“Do not. Do not try to use that sweet talking ‘I’m so fucking innocent’ voice on me, Bokuto Koutarou. We promised each other. You promised me. And now one of my oldest friends has his neck on a chopping block and your name is the one on the fucking axe.”
Akira watches warily as Kouta straightens and steps away from him, not so much putting himself between Akira and Sugawara as he is putting Akira to the side of Sugawara’s wrath. He shivers a little at Kouta’s tone when he starts speaking; Kouta serious and calm and focused is not something he’s ever going to be used to seeing.
“Whatever Ennoshita has gotten himself into-”
“You don’t even deserve to say his name,” Sugawara grits out.
“-is none of my concern. I have kept my end of our promises. I’ve never gone back, never looked back, never even made a single indication I am anything but yours in all this now. I don’t know why my name is anywhere near this contract and since I had promised you I would stay away I haven’t even thought about looking into why it is.” Sugawara’s jaw is clenched so tight Akira is afraid he’ll crack his teeth. “But if you want me to, if you ask me to, I will not hesitate to contact Oikawa and find out what is going on.”
Sugawara huffs scornfully. “Oikawa. You would be able to just run off and contact him like it’s nothing.”
Akira holds his breath. He’s only heard about Sugawara and Kouta’s epic knock down drag out fights. He’s never seen one in person but he feels like they’re right at the edge of one. Like the heaviness in the air just before a crack of thunder rips the skies open and the rain starts pouring down.
“Just like you can always ‘run off’ and contact Matsukawa if you need to.” Sugawara’s cheeks flush at Kouta’s insinuating tone, the way he drawls the word ‘need’ into something almost demeaning. Akira is still standing at that edge between storms but he’s honestly not sure if they’re going to come to blows, blow each other off and leave, or just end up blowing each other. Such is the tenuous relationship between assassins sometimes. “Well,” Kouta prods. “What is it going to be Suga?”
A knock at the door draws Akira’s attention but the other two refuse to look away from each other. Sugawara gestures for Akira to get the door and he would normally balk and rolls his eyes at Sugawara treating him like some sort of servant. But honestly he’s glad to be out of the kitchen.
He opens the door to the sight of two strangers waiting patiently.
“Hello,” the taller of the two says smoothly and Akira’s mind instantly snaps into work mode. He doesn’t know why but he’s learned to trust his instincts. “We’re here to see Sugawara. Is he in?”
“Don’t worry. He’s expecting us,” the shorter man adds. His bright smile and fluffy blonde hair don’t reassure Akira in the slightest. Neither does the sound of the balcony door slamming shut on it’s track. Kouta’s resigned sigh fills the hallway a moment before Kouta leans against Akira and hooks his chin over Akira’s shoulder.
“Oh it’s you two. Shoulda figured,” Kouta says, voice neutral and polite. “Come in.”
