A Parliament of Owls {BokuAkaKuroTsuki/IwaOi}

One

"Excuse me but is this seat taken?"

Akaashi looked up from the counter, a charming smile gracing his lips while he leaned forward slightly and propped his elbow up to rest his cheek in his hand. "It isn't", he answered the tall man, who was holding a glass in one hand and a rose in another.

White, huh?, the smaller man thought, concentration running high as he recalled the chart that hung on the entrance of the dimly lit club. Vanilla, interesting but definitely nothing special. His hand reached for his own blue flower, the pedals shimmering in the shallow light, open for everything.

The man was now fully seated next to him, his glass, probably whiskey but Akaashi couldn't be sure, on the surface in front of him. "So what is a boy as beautiful as you doing here?", he asked, sly grin dancing over his features. "Aren't you too young to for this kind of scene?" The black haired male pretended to be sheepish and adverted his eyes in a shy fashion. "I am allowed to be here", he answered, disgust running through his veins but not showing on his face. This stranger couldn't care less if he was legal or not, and they both knew it.

"That bastard", a voice in his ear snarled and another hushed it but Akaashi knew that he was right, he did not know that Bokuto was currently in contact with him though, he was pretty convinced that it was Kenmas turn tonight.

A hand sneaked onto his thigh and he flinched out of surprise, wide eyes looking up to find the strangers face only mere inches from his own, predatory eyes seizing him up, taking him in. "I'm Hirato by the way, it's a pleasure to meet you." His breath reeked of alcohol and cigarettes and Akaashi couldn't help but compare the smell to a grave yard, because that's exactly what those lips were but instead of recoiling he just smiled back with a polite "Nika."

Persistent fingers danced up his skin, sneaked under his shirt and protruded into his too tight jeans. "Nika, huh? Sounds foreign", Hirato said, no curiosity what so ever in his voice, only demand. Akaashi had stop himself from slapping the mans hand away and maybe kicking him once or twice where it would certainly hurt. "My mom is from Greece, she gave me the name", lies, a little too emotionless to sound convincing but the other male was already far too gone to notice anything off.

There was some rumbling in Akaashis headset and for a second he was scared that the connection had cut off but than there was an unmistakably angry voice that clearly belonged to Bokuto. "If he lies his hands on you one more time I will tear them off."

Carefully as to not be noticed the black haired man tapped his ear twice, a signal, before he turned his head and buried his hands in Hiratos surprisingly soft hair and leaned forward, lips barely gracing the strangers as he carefully exhaled and as the other adult tried to dive in and get more he just turned his head away.

"How about we take this somewhere else?", he whispered, half lidded eyes even more closed than usual, nimble fingers demanding. "I have a key." "No, no, I know a better place", Akaashi smiled and mentally prayed the other male wouldn't put up a fight, he really didn't feel like creating a scene right now, there were too many people around and he couldn't be bothered to make a mess.

So he just stood up and wrapped his hand around the others elbow without waiting for his answer and hurried through the mass of bodies towards the exit. Out of the corner of his eyes he could spot two tall figures watching them, following and a real smile danced over his face. Everything went according to plan.

"Tsukishima and Kuroo are eight seconds behind you, move to Place B immediately, no further actions needed."

Indeed, everything went according to plan and a small buzz of excitement washed over him as the stuffiness of the club was replaced with cool night air and instead of dim lights and annoying music only the muffled sounds of a beat run through the abandoned streets.