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“There’s something you haven’t told me.”
Kaminaga turns his head slowly, trying not to look too surprised as he’s met with Miyoshi’s drilling stare. He must’ve been so lost in thoughts he didn’t even hear the other man came in; it’ll be his first solo mission in a long time, after all, and his mind is busy with the things that needs to be done before his flight tomorrow night. Although being a spy requires him to stay alert at all times, and everybody in the agency has a nasty game of sneaking up on each other so it’s not easy to fully rest, he tends to let his guard down when in his—their—own room, because, like, come on.
His partner is leaning against the wall next to the door, face expressionless, hands in pocket. It’s a casual pose, yet laden with absolute confidence. Kaminaga can immediately see that Miyoshi has done some investigating and found a solid proof; trying to deny it now will only be futile. Keeping secrets is also a spy thing, but he never really wants to be dishonest when it comes to this man.
Something akin to guilt finds him before he can even form the appropriate words. There’s no salvaging this, he must come clean.
“All right, I’ll confess,” letting out a long breath, Kaminaga turns his body to face him properly, “it was me who ate your share of pudding Fukumoto saved for you the other day.”
“That’s not what I—you what?”
“It was a late-night craving!” Kaminaga tries hard to sound desperate. “And this one, shiny cup of caramel pudding looked so beautiful and inviting under the yellow light of the fridge—”
“You remember we have a convenience store just across the street, right?” Miyoshi doesn’t even look pissed about it, thankfully, but his eyebrows rise high, very, very high. “If you were really that hungry, I mean.”
“Comparing store-bought stuff with our resident chef’s cooking is a near blasphemy,” he replies solemnly, “besides, I have very specific cravings.” Miyoshi stares at him in what must be a silent judging, so Kaminaga quickly adds, “Anyway, you said you want to know about something?”
“You’re going away,” Miyoshi glances at the suitcase spread open on their bed, “so I thought this might be the right time to hear the survivor’s full account of the Light Bulb Incident.”
He immediately turns his body back to the wardrobe, trying to focus on which pair of socks he should bring. It doesn’t matter. Kaminaga tosses in both, and adds a couple more. “Can’t you see I’m super busy preparing for my next assignment?”
“Your hands are, your mouth isn’t.” He can almost hear the smile in Miyoshi’s voice and he slightly wants to die. “Surely you can tell me while you’re packing—oh, take that shirt, it looks good on you.”
“It’s been what, half a year? Way more than that, even.” Kaminaga opens a drawer and begins picking up some ties, before facing the mirror on his left. “I’m surprised you haven’t read my official report of that mission.”
“We’re not supposed to.”
Kaminaga waits until Miyoshi moves to stand behind him, so the man can see him rolling his eyes in the mirror. “As if we’re not doing that all the time.”
Miyoshi doesn’t answer, and starts helping him to choose some more shirts along with the suit jackets instead. His partner has indeed tried to ask him about it a few times before, yet never actually presses so it’s mostly left as an untouched subject until today. But even if the man hasn’t read the report then, from the look of it Kaminaga is sure Miyoshi has read that report by now; he already has the facts from Kaminaga the spy, he just hasn’t heard the story from Kaminaga as his partner and his boyfriend. That’s why he’s still persistent. He wants to know more than just the matter-of-fact crap written on the paper; it’s Miyoshi’s way of worrying.
The man probably won’t ever force him to do or tell something he doesn’t want to, but Kaminaga figures he has the right to know.
“I fucked up that one mission,” suddenly Kaminaga admits, “that’s all.”
“You still completed the objectives, though, it wasn’t a failure.”
“That’s true, but it’s not the point,” he combs a hand through his own hair, “I got caught, that’s bad.”
“Wasn’t your fault.”
“Then I got tricked while trying to escape, that’s the worst,” Kaminaga argues, “I would’ve been dead if it wasn’t for the sleeper.” Miyoshi can’t seem to get his point yet, so he continues, “I was too confident, and it led me to a fatal mistake. Only after that I realized it could be the same for any of us, I just happened to learn it the hard way—but I’m the leader, Miyoshi, your partner leader, I should’ve seen it coming, should’ve done better.”
Silence befalls them, like sudden rain in early autumn. Bantering is a side hobby, but communicating without spoken words is their specialty. Miyoshi steps in closer, right into his personal space and would be something alarming if it was any other person, but this is the man Kaminaga ever allows to see him as he is, the man he trusts completely, the man he’s willing to spend the rest of his life with. Miyoshi may not always know the right words, or know how to express himself properly, but he gets Kaminaga, and that’s all that he needs.
Miyoshi is not actually the touchy-feely type either, but he’ll hold Kaminaga’s hand when he thinks his partner needs it, and press his lips onto the right places and Kaminaga isn’t sure why or how but everything’s suddenly all right. He slides his arms forward; Miyoshi’s waist is just the perfect size for his hug and Kaminaga finds himself leaning towards him before he knows it.
The other man holds the side of his head gently as their foreheads touch. “But that’s why Yuuki-san made you the leader, isn’t it?” His whisper tickles Kaminaga’s lips. “Because you’re prideful like we all are, but willing to admit you’re wrong and learn. Nobody has to be perfect from the start, Kaminaga.”
Kaminaga can’t help it. “You’re perfect.”
His partner’s laugh is a stutter of breaths. “Then consider yourself very lucky.”
This damn narcissist. Kaminaga almost regrets saying so, but then Miyoshi kisses him and all other thoughts melt away, softly like muscle pains under a tender touch at the end of a long day.
The man always likes to begin it slow, almost innocent, while sending joyous hums and let it reverberates throughout Kaminaga’s body. But then he’s unpredictable from there; at times he’ll accelerate without warning and suddenly the world’s moving in fast and Kaminaga gets swept away, while at other times Miyoshi will only tease until Kaminaga’s insides feel like furnace and he’ll crave senselessly. Being with him stirring, elating, maddening—but Miyoshi grounds him, at the same time he makes him feel high and drowning under.
Kaminaga somehow manages to pull them both to the bed without knocking off the suitcase or the scattered clothes. His legs are bent in an awkward position, but he cares the least about that as Miyoshi crawls into his lap and he’s being pushed backward. A small ouch escapes his mouth when the back of his head accidentally hits the headboard a little too hard.
“That’s for stealing the pudding I didn’t even know existed.” Miyoshi rubs his head soothingly and chuckles, warm and genuine. He doesn’t laugh like that often, but if bumping Kaminaga’s head is all it takes to get Miyoshi to do that, maybe he won’t mind getting a concussion or two.
“Consider it a small compensation for stealing my heart.”
“God,” Miyoshi huffs, hiding his smile, “can you just shut up?”
“Why don’t you make me?” Challenging Miyoshi usually doesn’t end up well for anyone, but Kaminaga kinds of hold a special privilege over that. His partner’s eyes bore into him, like he’s some sight to savor, urging the beat in his chest to go even faster. Kaminaga always loves Miyoshi’s eyes; foxlike, gleaming in the color of pre-baked clay, and always assessing. Often, he’ll catch this particular glint in his eyes, like he’s amused by something, and Kaminaga is more than happy to humor him. Sneaking a thumb just above his boyfriend’s waistband, Kaminaga draws tiny circles on the bare skin as he tries to coax Miyoshi to lean in closer.
His partner’s hand traces lower, scratching his hair with blunt fingernails and squeezing his nape lightly. Miyoshi shows affection through his actions, but when it comes to verbal confessions, the impassiveness in his voice always betrays the emotions in his touch. “Why don’t you promise me you’ll come back safely first?” His tone is almost entirely flat, but Kaminaga knows him well enough to understand how much the question actually holds.
“Only if you promise not to get on any shitty train while I’m away.”
“Fair enough.” He gives Kaminaga a delicate peck on the lips, before rolling off his lap and shifting to his side. Kaminaga almost whines at the loss of contact, but Miyoshi rests his head on his shoulder, and he automatically opens his arm so the other man can nuzzle closer to his chest. “Such a nice mission you’ll be having.”
Kaminaga is planned to pose as an art curator—the kind of cover Miyoshi would probably kill to have, since anything art-related is both his passion and his expertise. Purely out of curiosity, Kaminaga asks, “Wondering why you weren’t chosen for it instead?”
There’s another silence jumping in, enough for him to count a few seconds before his partner finally answers, “Actually, yes.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“That’s all?” Kaminaga nudges with his cheek. “Come on, I told you about the Light Bulb Incident—and the pudding too, we might as well make this a confession night.”
Miyoshi snorts, or at least that’s what Kaminaga thinks it is, since it sounds a little too elegant to be a one. Even after almost three years of working together, the man still doesn’t really talk when something is bothering him. Not because he doesn’t trust his partner or his team, it’s just the way Miyoshi is. Most of the time he only needs a little encouragement and that’s all right, Kaminaga’s good at being a supportive boyfriend (right?).
“Do you think, Yuuki-san considers that I’m not ready for another solo mission yet? He hasn’t assigned me anything too serious ever since that accident.” He speaks lowly, as if someone else might hear. “And now there’s a mission like this—the one that usually would go to me—but here I am stuck in the agency babying the new trainee instead.”
Kaminaga would bow low and kiss the Demon Lord’s hand in gratitude if he thought it was the case, if he thought that their director was also trying to keep his partner safe for a while. That’s not what Yuuki is doing. “Don’t be so down, the mission’s pretty boring anyway.”
“Still better than playing mentor for new kids, Kaminaga.”
“But I’m sure you make a good teacher,” he pulls away a little to see his partner’s face, “Miyoshi-senpai.”
He doesn’t even try to hide disgust. “Don’t call me that.”
“How’s Sakuma doing, though? Gotten used to the agency yet?”
“He’s a little too idealistic for what I can tolerate, but Sakuma-san works hard, he’ll get there,” he pauses, then adds, “I walked into the cafeteria yesterday morning and Hatano was beating him with a newspaper. The others were there but nobody did anything—I swear Odagiri even had his phone out, recording.”
Kaminaga coughs to cover his laugh. “Either he accidentally insulted Hatano for his size or he lost a bet.”
“Either way, I don’t care.” Miyoshi closes his eyes and massages the bridge of his nose. “I can’t handle this much bullshit in one place, okay, I’m so done.”
Miyoshi rarely swears, and when he does, Kaminaga thinks it’s cute. “Damn it, why does the fun always happen while I’m out for grocery shopping.”
“Is that your definition of fun?” The man smiles, sweet and clearly fake. “You should take the job, then—no, actually, it should’ve been yours from the start. I don’t even understand why Yuuki-san would assign me to something like this; you’re always better at handling people, Kaminaga, and I’m good with any non-sentient beings. Isn’t that how we always work all this time?”
“We work too well when we’re together, after all,” Kaminaga agrees, “since you and I make up for the lack in each other.”
“Exactly.” Miyoshi nods. “It’s the most reasonable and effective arrangement. I don’t see why we should try to get creative and change it.”
“Isn’t it pretty obvious, though,” Kaminaga says, “it’s because Yuuki-san wants a leader who would be good in both things in case something happened to one of us.”
Miyoshi visibly goes rigid. He blinks once, and then twice, as if the notion of them being mere mortals has just only begun to dawn on him. The possibility of his own death isn’t something shocking for Kaminaga, not when this is the kind of life he’s chosen, but the realization that he could lose the people who are important to him just as easy was what really hit him. Maybe Miyoshi is the same. He’s indeed very smart, but sometimes is just too single-minded; he only thinks about what works best for them, but he hasn’t thought about how it will be if being together is no longer in the equation. He hasn’t thought about losing Kaminaga.
(And to be fair, Kaminaga hadn’t thought about losing the other either, until he was dying somewhere in Germany, buried inside a wrecked train car with a steel beam puncturing his chest. Sometimes Kaminaga still outlines the scar left on Miyoshi’s otherwise perfect skin with his finger, and thinks about how close it had been to lose the person that means the world to him. Kaminaga hadn’t thought about it before; he didn’t want to.)
His partner neither reply nor resist when Kaminaga pulls him back into his embrace. He can almost hear the gears in Miyoshi’s head shift and click into place, before he finally says in a soft voice, “It’s why he’s been giving us separate assignments lately, I suppose?”
“So we can learn each other’s forte? I think so.” Kaminaga strokes his boyfriend’s hair instinctively. “Because you know, it’s better to get yourself a man who can do both, Yuuki-san is a wise old guy, isn’t he?”
“I’m quite sure that’s not how you use that meme,” Miyoshi says, “wait, that was a reference, right?”
Kaminaga chuckles. “Didn’t think you’d catch that.”
“Sometimes I really want to kick myself out of our group chat, you know.”
“I’d still send you memes personally.”
“That’s the point.” Miyoshi peels off Kaminaga’s hand and gets out of the bed. “Come on, finish your packing so we can review your mission objectives.”
He groans. It’s crucial to be prepared, though like he said before, the mission is indeed boring and Kaminaga’s sure there are far more interesting things they could do instead, now, in the bed, preferably naked. But Miyoshi won’t let him do anything else until he deems everything is ready and set. His partner is low-key the textbook example of being responsible, and Kaminaga can’t see why he doesn’t think of himself as a good mentor. To be honest, Kaminaga would probably just get Sakuma drunk and lose a month’s worth of his pay on playing Joker Game with the other boys in the first couple of nights, before he’d really give him any useful advice on surviving in the agency.
Miyoshi lectures briefly on how a classy art expert should look like, and helps him choose the rest of the clothing while Kaminaga is stealing kisses at every chance he gets. His partner is unwavering, however, and insists to go through a mental checklist of necessities before he finally gets his hands on Kaminaga’s ass—which makes him think that they’re, at long last, starting to get into the good part, but then Miyoshi only pushes him to the bathroom to fetch a pack of travel toothbrush.
He leans on the doorframe, watching as Kaminaga grumbles and rummages through the bathroom cabinet. “I haven’t said thanks.”
Kaminaga finds the toothbrush and looks up. “For what?”
“Telling me about the Light Bulb Incident.”
“Are we still gonna talk about this?” In truth, he’s no longer as upset about it as before. Perhaps talking to his partner does help. The other guys will probably never live it down for the rest of his life anyway, so as a certified meme lord, Kaminaga may as well just take it easy from now on and join them by making self-deprecating jokes.
Miyoshi snickers, before clearing his throat and says in a serious tone, “Don’t let it get to you too much. You’re a good leader, Kaminaga, out of us all, you’re the best candidate to take over the agency.”
Air stuck in his lungs as his chest swells in surprise and pride. Is he really hearing this? Did he fall asleep at one point during the packing and is now just dreaming? Is Miyoshi—that damn-narcissist-Miyoshi, really admitting what Kaminaga thinks it is? “You really mean it?”
“Yes, but I’m still the better spy, though,” he smirks, “the best one here, actually.”
“Listen.” Kaminaga walks up to him, trying hard not to kiss that smug smile off his partner’s lips, then forgets whatever witty comebacks he’s going to say when Miyoshi hooks a finger to his belt loop and draws him in. “But you know what? Never mind. I’m just happy we’re able to do some heart-to-heart talk like this, we should do it more often.”
“What talk?” Miyoshi raises an eyebrow, slightly mocking. “You know what they say, I don’t have a heart. I’m cold and heartless like a monster.”
“What monster?” Kaminaga laughs. “I know you secretly feed the stray cat Hatano took in, although you always say you hate cats.”
“Seriously, can you just shut up?”
Brimming, he leans forward to claim another kiss. “Love you too.”