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“Do you like him?”
Ogawa laughs, flexing his fingers in Susumu’s hair. “Yes, I think so. Good job.”
Hayata grins, returning his eyes to the road, but it’s not long before his gaze wanders back to the rearview mirror. He knows Ogawa’s tastes well enough by now, he thinks, but there was always the chance that, in one of his moods, he would reject the gift Hayata offered. It might even have been presumptuous to enlist someone else’s help in fighting Ogawa’s battle. But now he’s wearing an expression of almost fond satisfaction as Susumu proves his worth, so Hayata allows himself to feel smug.
His role right now is to be the driver, the plausible deniability if anyone dares to check up on their absence, but he almost wants to interfere. He could give Susumu advice, coach him on the best way to make Ogawa happy, but that’s cheating - and not the fun kind. He has to learn for himself, just like Hayata did.
“What do you think?” Ogawa asks, and it takes a moment to realize he’s not talking to Hayata. “Should we drop you off after all?” Susumu’s response is muffled but distinctly negative, and Ogawa chuckles again. “No? He’ll suspect something, you know. There’s no reason for us to show up, but you’re his partner. You don’t care if he gets suspicious?”
There’s a faintly wet sound on the edge of hearing and Susumu clears his throat. “What can he do if he does? Replace me? He’s out of friends. I’ll play nice when I see him.”
“Hm, good. How will you convince him?”
“Like this?” Hayata knows Susumu well enough to hear the grin in his voice, though he has to guess what he’s referring to. It’s occurred to Hayata that he should go back to calling him Yuya, if they’re on these terms again, but that will come with time. He’s not the same person he once was. They’ll build back up to that. For now, hearing and half-watching him with Ogawa is enough, an observer as they test each other’s boundaries and Ogawa satisfies himself that Susumu will fit into Stinger’s dynamic.
“That wouldn’t convince me,” Ogawa replies to Susumu’s unspoken suggestion, “but maybe if you…” He trails off, or else he’s speaking too quietly to be overheard, but before long he hums under his breath, a note of approval that’s almost a sigh. “Yes, that might make him believe you. He likes that.”
Of course, he might be even more suspicious that Susumu knows what he likes, Hayata doesn’t say. Ogawa has no doubt thought of that; it might even be part of the fun for him. As he steers through a traffic circle he can just barely, over his shoulder, see Susumu’s mask on the seat next to Ogawa. He’d left his apartment with the mask shoved in his pocket - “Just in case,” he’d said, though he’s hardly in a position to be seen through the car window. Knowing him, it’s more likely that he’s amused by having the mask so near while he betrays Kotaro so thoroughly, as if the upcoming match won’t be enough to satisfy him. Hayata can’t help but smile at the thought, and when he meets Ogawa’s gaze in the rearview, he finds a matching grin.
“You’ll crash if you don’t look at the road,” Ogawa warns, and Hayata snaps his eyes down before hearing, “so you might want to pull over.”
Yes. He nods as he searches out the nearest parking lot, harder now than ever to focus on the task at hand. Ogawa is looking directly at him every time he glances into the mirror, even to check for traffic, and his face is a mixture of amusement and expectation that makes Hayata want to stop in the middle of the street, if only to cut to the chase. When at last he finds a spot, what he sees when he turns his head to back safely into it nearly takes his breath away.
The car isn’t large, so neither is the back seat, but with the passenger seat pulled up there’s just enough room for Susumu to kneel between Ogawa’s legs. Knowing this was happening, even hearing bits of their conversation, can’t compare to seeing them up close. The mirror only shows so much, smiles and gestures reversed - now he can see Ogawa’s face tilted towards the car’s ceiling as Susumu bobs his head, could almost reach out and feel the tension in the line of his throat. When he’s finally - finally - free to turn in his seat and watch them, adjusting himself as he goes, Susumu looks up and winks at him.
This trip around the city had been a casual one, more of a joke between the three of them than a concrete destination or plan. Most likely they’ll go home once the contract signing is over, having been carefully incommunicado for the duration, and that suits them fine. For now, Susumu has Ogawa’s trousers open and - well, Hayata couldn’t see much more than that in the mirror, but he didn’t need to guess. He knows Ogawa’s deliberately measured breathing very well, knows the way he clenches his teeth, his various sighs. Knows, too, the way he’s shifting his hips and raking Susumu’s hair back from his forehead, and what it means about the skill of the man in front of him. Hayata can’t help but be proud - he’d helped build those skills, after all, and Ogawa should probably thank Susumu for helping Hayata in turn. But that’s for later. Now it’s all he can do to keep from touching himself through his jeans until Ogawa rolls his head to look at him.
“You know, you can do more than watch.”
It’s tempting, but no. This is about his present to Ogawa, about Susumu ingratiating himself. There will be more nights for the three of them. He shakes his head, and Ogawa nods in concession.
“That’s fair enough. But you’re allowed; at least know that much.”
Those are the words he hadn’t consciously been waiting for, and he unzips his jeans so quickly he almost skins a knuckle. Taking himself in hand, he can’t help but imagine Susumu’s mouth, Ogawa’s hands, focused on him instead. Ogawa’s head has fallen back again, his eyes closed, and Susumu’s cheeks are hollowed as he doubles down, and Hayata wishes he were in either position, or both.
It occurs to him that Ogawa was holding off until Hayata could watch them, testing both himself and their new teammate. Testing all three of them, really, because Hayata’s self-control has gotten noticeably worse since leaving Yo-Hey - has been degrading since before he’d officially left him, in fact. But for this, which was his own scheme from the start, he has patience and restraint. To a certain extent.
Having held off this long, Ogawa clearly isn’t going to last much longer if the tone of his breathing is any indication, and Hayata speeds his own hand to match his momentum. When Ogawa tightens his grip on Susumu’s hair, Hayata moves a hand to his own head to mirror him, pulling gently and then more sharply as he gets close. He won’t last long either. In the end it’s Ogawa’s exhale that does it, the way the tension leaves his body for a moment as Susumu groans under his breath and Hayata can see his throat working. He knocks his head against the window as he comes, shuddering and distantly grateful the parking lot is deserted.
When Ogawa unclenches his hand, slowly letting go of his grip on his hair, Susumu rocks back on his heels and wipes his mouth. Hayata passes him a wet wipe from the glove box before using another to clean his hands and a spot on his jeans, carefully looking out of the corner of his eye as Susumu gets himself off. It doesn’t take him long either.
“Well,” he says after a long moment, resting his head on Ogawa’s thigh, “I need to walk around for a minute. My knees are cramped.” Hayata can’t help but laugh - his priorities are so sensible, even in this situation - but he has to hope the abrupt refocus doesn't offend Ogawa.
Ogawa chuckles as well, opening the door and shifting so Susumu can extricate himself. As he stretches his legs, Hayata does his best to move the passenger seat back to its rightful position and he and Ogawa make eye contact. Ogawa nods silently, and Hayata smiles, nodding in return as a band of anxiety loosens from his heart.
After they drop Susumu off, Ogawa moves to the passenger seat so Hayata can drive them back to his apartment. It’s easier to stay with Ogawa than to take a train home this late, on nights like this, and more fun besides.
“I think he’ll fit in well. We’ll make a good team.” Once through the door, Ogawa properly stretches out, working the cricks out of his neck. “I can’t wait to see Kotaro’s face.”
Hayata nods. “Same.”