Work Text:
It’s past midnight.
Hayato works with ease, hiding any trace of evidence anyone was here.
He stuffs the illicit supplies into his backpack, hikes the strap over his shoulder and quietly exits the bathroom. The hallway is pitch black but his night vision is at its peak. He crosses back into the room, heading for the open window.
He pauses mid-step and looks back over his shoulder. The blinking light of the computer speaks back to him in morse code. Do it, it insists.
He glances over at his target, deep asleep in his bed, just like most people are at this time of night.
A breath later he eases the rolling computer chair back and starts hacking away. Or tries to, at least. He was never really all that great with technology. He’s going to need reinforcements.
The clacking key board sounds failed to wake up his target, but he exits the room anyways, not taking the risk. He pulls out his phone, calling the first number on the list.
“Hello, love. Light of my life, my sun, my moon and all the stars,” he greets.
“What do you want,” a curt voice answers back.
Hayato smirks. He can picture the pink haired teen bundled in blankets to the tip of his nose, eyes glued to his video game.
“How are you this fine night?”
“Make it quick, Hacchan. I’m busy.”
“I need a small favor. I am in need of your expertise.”
“Hmm, and what’s in it for me?” The repetitive gun shots in the background have been cut off and rustling sounds replace it, telling him Kiryu is walking to his computer.
“How about I buy you that new game station coming out?”
“Already bought it myself. Try again.”
Hayato huffs good-naturedly. Sometimes it’s a curse dating someone richer. What’s the point in being rich if he doesn’t even get to buy his boyfriend things. “Dinner and foot massages for a week?”
“For a month and you have a deal.”
“Understood.”
“Do you have the USB?”
“Of course.” Hayato circles back to the computer, inserts the stick, and waits.
“Suo Hayato,” Kiryu reprimands as soon as he accesses the target’s network. “Really, you’re messing with him of all people? He's close to Hiragi-san, you know, and Hiragi-san will not be pleased.”
“We’ll get him more Gas-kun 10. He’ll deal.”
“Your funeral. You should have access now,” Kiryu states and sure enough, the computer blares to life and he’s bypassed all password-protected securities. “Will I be seeing you?”
Hayato wedges his phone between his ear and shoulder, quickly moving the mouse in one hand and types with the other. “This will only take a minute. I’ll see you in twenty?”
The line goes dead without a response.
Hayato laughs under his breath; he’s got some grovelling to do.
_____________
The brown hair teen silently climbs his way up the pipe drain, careful in his footing as he traverses across the roof. He slides open a window and gracefully ambles into the room. He tosses his black beanie to the side and the matching face mask along with it. His sneaky outfit, his boyfriend calls it.
In front of his big screen TV wrapped in blankets, Kiryu Mitsuki leans back on his padded floor chair, hands glued to the controller as he’s entranced in his first person shooter game. He doesn’t bother acknowledging his boyfriend, but he raises his arms slightly and that’s all the encouragement Hayato needs.
His bones and muscles melt as he collapses to the ground, ducking under the arms to embrace Kiryu around his midriff, smashing his face into the fleece blankets. “You’re the bestest of the best, Tsukki,” he mumbles as he relaxes against the teen, eye closing shut.
“Hmmph, I have a door, you know,” Kiryu grunts. His arms rest comfortable around Hayato’s shoulders. “Did Kaji-chan annoy you that badly at training today?”
“He was being a little shit. He had the nerve to bail on me.”
“Sakura-chan needs the extra practice. He’s facing Endo, you know. Even the senpais are worried.”
“I know. Still annoyed,” he grumbles.
The weight around his shoulders shift. He doesn’t bother looking up; he can tell Kiryu is pausing the game, setting his controller to the side.
Fingers lightly brush against his bangs as Kiryu gently removes his eye patch. Brown hair cascades down. A hand to the jaw guides Hayato away from the plush and he breathes in sweet cologne.
He blinks both eyes open and meets emerald green gazing adoringly back.
“Hi, there.” Kiryu smiles sweetly, tracing the scar bisecting Hayato’s right eye with his finger. “You look less agitated, Hayato-chan. Did you get it out of your system?”
His head rests heavy on his lap. He takes Kiryu’s hand and kisses the back of each knuckle. “For now.”
Movement in the corner of his eye makes him pause. In the corner of the room—the designated Sad-Time corner—and underneath the pile of large plushies and stuffed animals, pair of long legs stick out. Only one person ever really uses it.
Hayato raises himself up and blinks. “Is that you, Sugishita-kun?”
“Mmhm,” Kiryu affirms. He sighs exasperatedly, “He got to spar with Ume-chan-senpai today.”
“Then why’s he moping? He should be elated.”
“He thinks he disappointed Ume-chan.”
A muffled scream fills the room.
“Ah, poor Sugishita-kun.”
The next day, Kaji Ren stomps into Furin with an intimidating scowl, purple hair, and nothing but gamercore tracks blaring from his headphones.