Best Served Cold
If Obito were even ten seconds slower, he’d have been too late.
It all happens in a blur; the moment he swings himself up onto the edge of the balcony, his eye catches on a slim figure in dark clothes, just approaching the wide glass doors with their covering of steel grills. In the same moment, there’s a spark of red across black cloth, all but invisible in the night. Across the busy street, on one of the top floors of an office building, light dances across cold metal, and Obito doesn’t even try to shout a warning. He hurls himself across the balcony with every ounce of speed he has and tackles the figure just as they reach for the lock.
In the same instant, there’s a muffled pop, and a bullet slams through the thick glass.
“God damn it!” Obito’s captive hisses, but Obito wraps an arm around her waist and leaps for the far edge of the terrace. Another pop, another bullet, and this one is even closer as it slams into stone, showering them with chips of stone. With a snarl of warning, Obito shoves his target around the corner, pushing her down, and whirls to bring his own gun up. There’s no time to aim, no chance to actually hit the bastard when Obito doesn’t have a rifle and scope with him, but he eyeballs it, squeezes the trigger, and dives after the woman as another shot cracks the stone where he’s been standing. At the same moment, glass cracks with a shattering crash across the street, and Obito pushes the target hard, trying to get her moving towards the far side of the building.
“Go!” he urges, and with an irritated huff she scampers along the narrow ledge, grabs a zip line between gloved hands, and vaults over the side of the museum. Obito shoves his gun back into its holster and follows her, landing lightly in the statuary garden behind the building. The woman is nowhere to be seen, but a maintenance gate is standing just a little ajar, and Obito wriggles through the gap, emerging into the lush darkness of the botanical garden that abuts the museum.
“You know,” he says into the darkness, more than a little annoyed, “thank you is generally what people say in this kind of situation.”
“My diamonds,” the woman says instead, a mournful lament, and Obito rolls his eyes as he steps into the small pagoda that overlooks a decorative pond.
“Sniper, Rin,” he reminds her, exasperated. “Aiming for your head. Priorities, please.”
Rin drags her ski mask off to pout at him, brushing her bobbed hair out of her face. “Diamonds,” she insists. “Obito, we’ve been casing that building for weeks, and now it’s ruined.”
“But your head isn’t!”
Of course, Rin just waves that off. “Now security’s going to be insane,” she complains, folding her arms over her chest.
Obito is so done with this. “Someone just tried to kill you, and you’re worried about rocks?”
“Pretty rocks. Valuable rocks. Rocks that I spent a very long time planning to steal, Obito,” Rin insists, casting a dark look back at the museum. She heaves a sigh that’s overly thick with regret. “I bet every silent alarm in the place is going off right now.”
“Except the one for a dead would-be intruder,” Obito reminds her, because it can’t be overstated. “If I hadn’t gotten to you in time—”
That at least gets him a laugh, and Rin reaches up to cup his scarred cheek. “Yes, yes, you rode to my rescue like always, dashing hero, et cetera, et cetera. And here I thought you’d heard about our heist and were coming to join us again.”
Obito rolls his eye, though he doesn’t bat her hand away. It’s Rin, after all. “I don’t think assassin falls under the necessary skills to be a white knight, Rin. I’m not a thief anymore. You shouldn’t hold your breath that I will be again.”
Rin rolls her eyes right back, stepping a little away to prop her hands on her hip. “But we were good thieves,” she wheedles, though Obito can see the mischief in her expression. “Remember the casino in Kiri? The bank in Suna? The hotel in Ame?”
Making a face at her, Obito looks away, checking their surrounding so he doesn’t have to face the full force of Rin’s puppy dog eyes. “You know I make as much in one contract as you do in three heists,” he reminds her. “And this is a family business. If you have a problem with me killing people—”
Rin smacks him over the head.
(Obito probably should have seen that coming.)
With a yelp, he leaps back to get out of range, because Rin never stops at just one hit. At the same time, hands close around his elbows from behind, dragging him up against a hard chest, and it’s only a very vivid burst of sense-memory that keeps Obito from flipping the bastard over his shoulder and stabbing him.
“What are we talking about?” Kakashi asks, almost directly against Obito’s skin. It would take a stronger man then Obito not to shiver at the feeling.
“Assassinations,” Rin says cheerfully, stepping forward to tap her fingers against Obito’s chest.
Kakashi hums in acknowledgement, though he doesn’t lift his head. His flyaway hair brushes Obito’s cheek, and Obito can feel the sound more than he hears it. “Is that what that was? Rin, did you get into a death feud with someone and not tell me?
“It was Madara,” Obito says before she can answer. “And—can you let go of me? Hands to yourself, Bakashi!”
Kakashi, of course, does not let go. “Madara?” he asks, and there’s the faintest edge of darkness to his voice. “Your partner Madara?”
Rin is starting to frown as well, and Obito waves his hands as much as he can while still in Kakashi’s grip, trying to get them off this track. “No, no, not like that. He was an asshole so I left to work on my own, and he’s pissy because I’m better than him and he’s only making half as much money now. This was him trying to get revenge against me.”
“By coming after us?” This makes Rin beam. “Obito, you really do care!” she says cheerfully.
“Of course I care,” Obito grouses, huffing and slumping back into Kakashi’s hold. “It’s been the three of us since we were, what, six? You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Not even by getting married.”
Kakashi chuckles, his fingers tightening just a little. “I would have thought the way we fought over who got you as best man was convincing enough.”
“And we offered to let you join in on our wedding night,” Rin points out, her smile far too bright to be saying things like—like that. Obito flushes, on the verge of spluttering, but before he can she adds, “So how many times has Madara tried to kill you since you left?”
Behind him, Kakashi goes stiff, but Obito ignores the overprotective idiot. “Ten times?” he hazards, though he can’t quite remember clearly. “It’s fine, he’s a moron who can’t use a gun. All of his stuff is arranged accidents or poisonings. I’m fine.”
“I don’t know,” Kakashi says mildly. “That sort of looked like a gun to me just now.”
Obito snorts rudely. “Yeah, and no offense to Rin, but if I was behind the trigger she would have been dead six times over before she even got to the balcony. Madara’s an overly dramatic moron.”
“Says the man who cried at our wedding.” But there’s tension easing out of Kakashi’s fingers, and when Obito glances back and up at him, he crinkles his eyes in a smile about his half-mask.
“Emotional is not the same as dramatic,” Obito insists hotly. “And would you let me go, please?”
Kakashi hums low in his throat like he’s considering it, gaze slipping away from Obito to land on Rin. He lifts a brow in silent question, and Rin’s grin slides back onto her face, her delight clear. Apparently that’s answer enough, because Kakashi chuckles a little and leans down again, pressing his mouth to the curve of Obito’s neck.
Obito stiffens, jerks, and squawks, “What are you doing, Bakashi!?”
“If you’ve forgotten,” Kakashi says, still perfectly mild, “I think it’s about time we remind you.”
“Like a thank you for saving my life!” Rin agrees cheerfully, trailing her fingers down the center of Obito’s chest. “Think of it as a Hallmark card, but with more orgasms.”
One of the hands holding Obito’s elbow vanishes for a moment, and there’s a rustle of cloth. This time when Kakashi nips at his skin, his mouth is entirely uncovered, and Obito jolts and gasps. “But,” he manages as Rin leans up to kiss him, and for half a minute that’s far more interesting than words. Especially when Kakashi’s hands settle on his hips and drag him back even more firmly. When Rin finally surrenders his mouth, dragging her teeth across his lower lip, he groans and tries desperately, “But—revenge, I have to get revenge on Madara because he’s an asshole—”
Rin pouts at him in the way she knows he’s weak to, the witch. “Really, Obito? You’re thinking about revenge at a time like this? It’s been so long since we were all in bed together. Don’t you want to have some fun?”
“You just want to see Kakashi fuck me again,” Obito accuses, and from behind him Kakashi makes a very interested sound and scrapes his teeth over the spot on Obito’s jaw that always makes him lose control of his knees. Obito sucks in a hard breath, eye closing automatically, and Rin laughs.
“This is true,” she says without an ounce of shame, fingers ghosting over his belt. “Can you blame me? It’s been four years. Besides, I want a piece of you too.”
Her light touch turns into a definite grope, and it takes effort for Obito not to whine through his teeth. “But—plan. I have a plan and I need to go—”
Kakashi makes an intent sound against the curve of his shoulder. “Oh? For your revenge? You’re not just going to shoot him?”
“Mmm.” Obito breaks the kiss that Rin pulls him into, trying to drag his wayward thoughts back under control. They all seem to be taking a nosedive and heading south. “I—yes. Yes, I have the perfect plan. There’s this—this outstanding contract Madara has—oh.”
“Outstanding contract,” Kakashi prompts cheerfully, as if he didn’t just stick his hands up Obito’s shirt.
“On a businessman,” Obito forges on doggedly. “Madara was gleeful for days after he got it, because they have history. So I’m going to get there first.”
“And kill him before Madara can?” Rin asks, though her attention seems to mostly be on Obito’s abs as she follows the path of Kakashi’s fingers.
With an aggravated huff, Obito turns, getting ahold of Kakashi’s turtleneck and pulling him in for a hard kiss that’s full of teeth. “No,” he insists, pulling back. “I’m going to save the bastard and keep him alive no matter what, just to spite Madara.”
Rin laughs, pulling back a little. “That sounds like a good plan,” she agrees, and when Obito makes the mistake of looking at her she makes that one face, halfway between sultry and a pout, that always does terrible things to Obito’s willpower. “But it can wait until tomorrow, can’t it, Obito? Or…maybe the day after?” She traces her fingers down his chest, looking up at him through her lashes, and Kakashi pulls him in even tighter, halfway to a hug but with a very prominent bulge in his jeans.
“Oh god I hate you both,” Obito says, and Rin laughs because she knows that’s his surrender.
“You brought your bike, didn’t you?” she asks coyly. “I’ll take the car back to the hotel. Kakashi, why don’t you make sure he doesn’t change his mind?”
“I can do that,” Kakashi agrees cheerfully, nipping lightly at Obito’s ear. “You can tell me more about your revenge on the way. There’s no way that’s all of it, knowing you.”
“Keep implying that I’m a tricky bastard and I’ll prove you right,” Obito threatens as Rin leans up for another kiss. “I just—ah, Rin, god—I can only stay one night, okay?”
“We’ll revisit the discussion at a later time,” Rin decides, and her bright, sunny smile returns. “After we’ve wrecked you the second time, maybe?”
It’s vaguely sort of possible that Obito whimpers.
Maybe revenge is overrated.