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Being an agent is hard work.
But being in a relationship with a fellow agent? That’s just a whole new ball game.
It was a late night, the vast majority of the neighbourhood already tucked in bed, asleep.
The car drove down the quiet street, then turned right and into the driveway of their home. Oikawa sat in deathly silence, arms crossed and eyes glaring out the side window. He was fuming.
Iwaizumi shifted the gear stick in to P and let out a deep sigh. He eyed Oikawa from the side. “Oikawa..”
Oikawa didn’t reply. He immediately unclicked his seatbelt and got out of the car. The agent slammed the car door and rushed to their front door. There was a click of the car door opening and he ignored Iwaizumi’s agitated “oi!”
Oikawa unlocked the front door and made his way in. He waited for the door to slam shut behind him but Iwaizumi caught it in time.
“Hey, I’m talking to you. Oikawa!” Iwaizumi snapped, grabbing a hold of his arm. “Can you listen to me?”
Oikawa shot him a dark glare. “Let go.”
“Just listen to-”
“I said, let go.”
Iwaizumi sighed and dropped his arm. He raised his hands up. “There. Happy?”
“Far from it.”
“For god sakes, it wasn’t even a big deal!”
Oikawa immediately spun around, glowering down at the other. “It was,” he growled. “It was to me.”
Iwaizumi dropped his head back and let out an exasperated sigh. “You know I wouldn’t have done it if I knew it was too risky. I assessed the situation before I acted.”
“You ran headlong in to the fight. Whilst it was still swarming with enemy agents. Professional. Armed. Enemy. Agents!” Oikawa’s voice sharpened with anger. “All for what? A stupid piece of metal?!”
“For Beretta. I couldn’t leave her behind-“
“It’s a gun, Iwaizumi! You risked your life just for a flimsy gun!”
“Look, I just-”
“You could have gotten shot. Or worse.”
“I highly doubt that-”
“You!” Oikawa snatched a fistful of his shirt and yanked him in. He hissed through his teeth, on the verge of spitting out a string of curses. He towered over the other, forcing him to lean back. “You god damn selfish bastard,” Oikawa spat. “Tonight isn’t the first time you’ve pulled a reckless stunt like this. You don’t want me to get angry, but you keep pulling this kind of shit! What will it take for me to get the message across in to that thick-headed skull of yours?!”
Iwaizumi’s expression immediately darkened. He slowly reached up and dug his fingers in to Oikawa’s wrists. His jaw was clenched, eyes steely. “Let go.” He simply stated.
Oikawa’s eyes sharpened in to a nasty squint and he shoved Iwaizumi away. He turned away, stomping off, then stop. The agent raked his hands through his hair roughly and let out a snarl. He spun around, still furious.
“Do you love me?” Oikawa questioned in an accusing voice. He raised his brows, eyes wide with anger. “Hm? Hajime? Do you love me?”
Iwaizumi’s expression blew up in downright fury. He stormed up to him, chest pushed out threateningly. “You really going to pull that shit on me right now? Because that’s low, even for you.”
“If you love me,” Oikawa continued, barely able to retain himself. “You are going to throw out every single gun. Right. Now.”
“What the hell? No!”
“If you love-“
“Shut the hell up, you know I do! But I’m not going to throw them out!”
“Then get the hell out of my sight.”
Oikawa marched over to the livingroom, more than eager to get away from the other. But Iwaizumi wasn’t having it.
“Don’t walk away from me. Come back- oi!” Iwaizumi snatched him by the shoulder and shoved him down on to the couch. “Don’t you dare walk away from me!”
“Or what?” Oikawa challenged. “What are you going to do, Hajime? Pin me down? You and I both know who’s the stronger one out of us two so I’d like to see you try.”
Iwaizumi’s face twisted in to an awful, hurt look. “Shut the hell up,” he growled.
“What? First you want me to stay put, and now you want me to ‘shut up’? What exactly do you want from me then? Just sit here like a mute? Then again, I suppose that’s what all your guns do anyway.”
“Shut up!” Iwaizumi snapped. His fingers curled and uncurled as he stood hunched and poised like a feral animal, shoulders lifted in tensed agitation. “You don’t understand. You don’t know how much they mean to me.”
Oikawa tipped his chin back and shot him a scornful look. “You know, sometimes I get the feeling that you love those guns. Like, actually love them. And it sickens me.”
Iwaizumi jerked his head back, expression full of disbelief. “Oh, it sickens you?” he said. “Well then, yeah. I do love them. They’re my- hey!” He whacked the flying pillow out of his way. “Christ, what the hell is your problem?”
“What the hell is my problem? What the hell is your problem?!” Oikawa snapped, grabbing another pillow and flinging it at his face. “I don’t know if you know this, but we’re husbands! You and me! Not you and me and the guns!”
“Okay, you know what? You need to calm down. I didn’t do anything wrong and you’re acting like a god damn pyschopath.”
Oikawa opened his mouth in a snarl but shook his head. He stood up. “I need to calm down? Fine. I’m taking the bedroom, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight. And don’t you dare think about sneaking in later cause I will kick your ass.”
Iwaizumi looked like he was going to retaliate, though he sat himself back down and let out a deep sigh. Oikawa spun on his heel and stormed away, exhaling heavily through his nose. He grit his teeth so hard it felt like his jaw was going to crack.
“Tooru, wait.”
He stopped, staring blankly ahead of him. There was a small flicker of satisfaction in his chest and he quickly squashed it down. As stubborn as his husband was, he at least knew when he’d stepped over the line. Oikawa peered over his shoulder with one brow raised. “Yes, Hajime?”
Iwaizumi stood on the spot, fidgeting with his hands. He looked hesitant, eyes darting around nervously before they peered up at him. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re not going to.. you know,” he said slowly. “Break them or anything whilst you’re in there right?”
Oikawa stared, expression hollow. No words could express the fury which rippled over him. “You…” he said in a low growl. “You have the actual nerve to…”
His expression twisted quickly and he let out a frustrated yell. Oikawa pointed a finger and sent Iwaizumi the most withering death glare. “You best wish that they’re still in one piece in the morning,” he threatened in a demonic rumble. He caught one final glimpse of Iwaizumi’s shocked face and he stormed to the bedroom. He slammed the door behind him just in time to cut off Iwaizumi’s plead. “wai-“
Oikawa stood there for a moment, back against the door, eyes closed. His heart raced from all the pent up adrenaline and all he wanted to do was destroy everything he could get his hands on. The agent listened, waiting for any sound outside the room but there was nothing.
Oikawa scrunched his brows and let out a small hiss of anger. He pushed himself off the door and paced around the room, hands bunched in to fists.
Iwaizumi’s words kept ringing in his mind, fuelling his inner rage.
“You’re not going to break them or anything, right?”
Not even an apology. No consideration. Just a stupid question about those god damn stupid guns. It was like a slap to the face.
Oikawa let out a frustrated snarl and lashed out, punching the bed. “That selfish idiot!” he snapped. “Selfish, insensitive, idiotic-”
Oikawa jerked up immediately, panting. His eyes were sharpened with anger and he glowered at the wall.
The wardrobe.
Don’t, the small part of his mind warned. However, it was quickly over turned by the roaring of his bitter emotions. Oikawa turned and faced it directly. It was like a pull which came from his chest and he marched over to the wardrobe and yanked the doors open.
Their clothes were left just as they were in the morning, all neatly folded and stacked in the shelves. Oikawa shoved his arm in and rummaged the back to pull out the hidden compartment. There was a soft click and he yanked the extra shelves out. His blood boiled at the sight of them.
Break them all. Break all those useless guns.
He should have never given him that MSP pistol in the first place. It was a huge mistake.
Oikawa lunged in, shoving his arm deep to the back. A few were knocked out of the way, falling off their stands and clattered in the shelf. He didn’t care. He was going to sweep them all out and snap them in to pieces. His frenzied thoughts were suddenly cut off when his hand collided in to something sharp.
“Ow!”
Oikawa immediately snapped his hand back, nursing it. He stared in surprise at the drawer. What the hell was that?
He lowered his head and peered in the drawer. It was too dark to make out what it was. Oikawa furrowed his brows. He inserted his hand again, this time carefully feeling around. His fingers brushed against the object and he patted his hand around to get a proper feel. A box…?
Oikawa squeezed his other hand in and tugged the object out. It pulled out easily and he gently lifted it out to examine it.
It was an old shoe-box, slightly tattered around the edges. The colour had faded in to a dark grey, nothing particularly fancy or interesting about the thing.
Oikawa had never seen it before, nor had Iwaizumi ever shown him.
Sitting down on the bed with it on his lap, he carefully slipped his fingertips under the lid and raised it. As he did, a sudden fleeting thought passed through his mind - Something this weathered, Iwaizumi must’ve been holding on to for a long time.
Inside was a mess. It was full of papers, receipts, a bottle cap, almost every useless thing you could find all shoved in to a tiny box. Most of the papers were scrunched, like they’d been shoved in to a pocket, some even yellow around the edges. Oikawa scrunched his nose in confusion. What is all this junk? He rummaged through the papers, though with deep care - he didn’t want to ruin anything.
He paused when he heard something rolling around at the bottom. A marble?
Oikawa tilted the box to one corner and rummaged inside. His fingers brushed against something small, hard like a pebble. He gently clasped it and pulled it out to examine.
A bullet.
His immediate reaction was to pelt his against the wall. His anger flushed back, reminding him of the reason why he’d opened the back compartment in the first place. Oikawa scrunched his face in irritation and he glared down at the small object. But something caught his eye. There was some kind of familiarity to it. Oikawa pinched it between two fingers, and he brought it up to properly examine.
4
It was a single number, engraved in to the small bullet, nothing too exciting. But the moment he laid eyes on it, his breath stopped. It felt like the entire bed tipped back and he fell with it, tumbling through space and time, back to that exact moment years ago.
It was hot.
The sun scorched down on him, its harsh rays burning his face and he quickly shielded it with his hands. There was a light ding! of the doorbell behind him as the other exited the old store.
“I can’t believe you,” Oikawa muttered aloud. He turned and scowled at his partner. “Are you honestly telling me you dragged me four hours out in to the middle of nowhere to buy a gun with you?”
“Not just any gun,” Iwaizumi replied. He held it out to show him. “An HK P7M8 Jubilee. Very hard to come by, only manufactured in Germany.”
Oikawa shook his head but he couldn’t suppress his laugh. “Unbelievable. Is this really the same person who said they didn’t like guns?” he teased.
“Uh, no? Let me correct you. I said I didn’t have an interest in guns, I didn’t say I disliked them,” Iwaizumi defended. He was fixated on the gun, turning it around to peer at it from all angles. “Besides, this one is a rare piece. Super rare. The guy could’ve easily sold it for way more too, the amateur.”
The agent rummaged through his pocket and held up a small object. “Look, he even tossed in this too. You know how much this is worth? At least a grand for the single.”
Oikawa raised his brows in surprise. “Really? For a small bullet?”
“Like I said, it’s a rare find.” Iwaizumi grinned and held it to the sky, squinting. “It’s even got my lucky number engraved in it. Number four. I think it was meant to be.”
Oikawa huffed in light amusement, eyeing the other from the corner of his eye. Who knew his boyfriend was such a nerd. “You look like you’re going to start crying tears of joy any moment now. Does it really make you that happy?”
Iwaizumi stopped and looked over at him, mouth still tugged in that lazy, lopsided smile. His eyes shone, reflected by the sunlight and from here, Oikawa noted the small speckles of green infused in the brown pupils. Iwaizumi shrugged casually. “You make me happy.”
Oikawa blinked rapidly, a flurry of emotion sweeping through his chest. He felt his cheeks warm and he let out an embarrassed laugh. “You’re disgustingly romantic.”
Iwaizumi shrugged again, looking pleasantly flustered too. “Shut up.”
He shoved the bullet in Oikawa’s face. “Here, kiss this.”
Oikawa’s smile immediately wiped away and he grimaced. “Ew, no! Iwa-chan, you don’t even know where that’s been!”
“It’s for good luck! A small peck isn’t going to kill you.”
“Okay, I take it back. You’re not romantic, you’re just disgusting.”
“You gonna do it or not?”
Oikawa rolled his eyes and leaned in. He lightly pressed the bullet against his lips and wiped them immediately. “Eurg- yuck! Go get me some antibacterial wipes.”
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure they’re not meant to be used on lips. Come on, we need to get back to HQ. I wanna test this little guy out.”
Oikawa stared at the small bullet, holding it up against the artificial bedroom light. He’d almost forgotten about that day, it was so long ago. Did Iwaizumi keep this here after all that time?
Oikawa gently placed the bullet back in the box and shifted through the papers. Most of them had faded almost completely, the ink reduced to a faint grey. He held them up to the light to carefully read through them. It was like stepping back in to the past each time.
A receipt from a small café named ‘Moloko’.
Their B-rank mission in Russia. It was the first time Oikawa had been there and he’d practically frozen himself from the cold. Iwaizumi dragged him in to the café where he’d bought him a hot tea to help warm him up. Oikawa had teased him, telling him holding hands was a much easier way of warming him up, and so Iwaizumi did. He didn’t let go the whole time.
A ‘Pacifico’ bottle cap.
Their one free night after their gruelling two month mission in Mexico. They both got ridiculously drunk at some dingy bar and eventually had security usher them out. Before they’d gotten kicked out, Oikawa swiped the beer bottle cap from the bar and which he later gave to the other as they both suffered through a deathly hangover.
A lightly-scrunched up piece of paper with a small, messy doodle.
The night they were held back in the south region of Japan, stuck in a cramped motel room with no tv or reception. They passed the time talking and playing ridiculous, childish games. At one stage, Oikawa had drawn a ‘portrait’ of Iwaizumi and handed it over. He’d purposely drawn it uglier than it was meant to and Iwaizumi retaliated by tackling him in to the bed where they laughed then later made love.
Everything they’d gone through together, their ups and downs, their fun moments, their sad moments, their life together.
All those memories, tucked in this small, weathered shoe box.
Oikawa slumped down, mind numb as he stared down in to the pile. He felt the distinct prickling form at the back of his eyes and he tilted his head up to the ceiling, and blinked rapidly to suck back the tears.
Oikawa sniffled.
“That idiot,” he whispered to himself.
Iwaizumi sat on the couch, staring at the carpet when he heard the light click of the door. There was a light shuffle which grew in to the distinct sound of slippers and he looked up to find his husband traipse over. Oikawa didn’t look at him and for a split moment, he’d suspected the other was back for another round.
But Oikawa didn’t say another word. He simply sat down beside the other and pulled him in for a hug.
Iwaizumi blinked several times but soon wrapped his arms around him. Oikawa pressed his face in to the crook of his neck and squeezed on to him so tightly, their chests constricted whenever he took a breath. Iwaizumi gently stroked the back of his head, running his fingers through his hair.
“mm’ sorry,” Oikawa mumbled against his neck. Iwaizumi glanced over from the corner of his eye then he dropped his head and pressed a gentle kiss on his shoulder.
“You know I love you,” he said softly.
“I know.”
“More than anything.”
“Yeah.”
“Even more than the guns.”
Oikawa didn’t say anything.
Iwaizumi stared blankly at the far wall of their livingroom, listening to the steady heartbeat of the other. Silence dragged between them. The storm had finally passed, leaving them both exhausted and emotionally drained.
Iwaizumi was the first to speak.
“You know,” he murmured. “You’re the one who gave me my first gun. The MSP pistol. 1975 model. It was right after our first mission,” he paused at the thought. “Man, our first mission. What a god damn disaster that was.”
Iwaizumi let out a weak chuckle then shook his head. “Yep. By far the worst mission I’d ever undertaken,” He peered down at the other, despite knowing he couldn’t see him. “But you know what shocked me even more?” he asked. “You still came back.”
Oikawa didn’t reply and he looked up at the wall again.
“I couldn’t believe it,” he murmured distantly. “Even after all the shit I put you through, you still came back. You just never gave up. I thought you were crazy.”
“And when you gave me that gun.. I thought, now this guy is definitely crazy,” Iwaizumi huffed in laughter. “But then it occurred to me that perhaps it wasn’t craziness but… loyalty. Someone was actually willing to give me a second chance. And for the first time in three years I felt normal,” Iwaizumi whispered. His gaze dropped lightly.
The agent closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
“I’ll throw them out,” he murmured. “Get rid of them all at once. Maybe disassemble them first incase someone else finds them. Can’t have Kuroo scavenging through our garbage, right?” he joked.
“Don’t.”
“Hm?” Iwaizumi leaned back to peer down at his husband.
“Don’t throw them out.”
Iwaizumi blinked. Then he smiled. “Why?”
Oikawa didn’t move from his position, only snuggled in closer. “They’re a part of you,” he answered quietly.
Iwaizumi watched, waiting for him to elaborate but he didn’t. He exhaled and scooted in impossibly closer. Neither said another word, remaining in their positions, snuggled tightly on the couch.