Chapter Text
The private jet touched down smoothly on the runway in Tokyo, its engines whining down as the ground crew approached. Through the small oval window, the city lights stretched endlessly into the evening haze.
Inside the cabin, Roger stretched his arms over his head with a groan. “Christ, my back’s gone stiff,” he muttered. “Next time we holiday, Deaks, we’re not letting Miami talk us into ‘a few quick promo things.’”
Across from him, John was still buckled in, fiddling with the sleeve of his jumper. He’d been quiet most of the flight, watching clouds drift past. Now he glanced up with a small, tired smile.
“You agreed quicker than I did,” John said softly. “You said gameshows sounded ‘brilliant fun.’”
Roger scoffed. "Well they did, didn’t they? Didn’t expect three bloody days of them.”
From the front of the plane came the heavy footsteps of their bodyguard. Wally ducked slightly under the low doorway as he stepped into the cabin. At six foot four he looked even larger in the cramped space, shoulders nearly brushing the walls.
“Alright, lads,” Wally said in his steady, calm voice. “Car’s waiting. Hotel’s about twenty minutes.”
Roger leaned back in his seat dramatically. “Carry me,” he said.
Wally stared at him. “No.”
John huffed out a quiet laugh, lowering his head.
The hotel lobby was immaculate—marble floors, polished brass, and a faint smell of something floral drifting through the air. A few hotel staff bowed politely as the three of them stepped inside.
Roger blinked around the room. "Bloody hell.”
John stayed close beside him, hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket. He always looked slightly overwhelmed in places like this—quiet, observant, letting Roger do most of the talking.
A receptionist approached with a bright smile.
Roger leaned down toward John slightly. “Bet Miami’s got us doing something stupid tomorrow,” he murmured.
He shrugged. “Probably.”
A pause.
Roger nudged him lightly with his elbow.
“But admit it,” Roger said. “Private jet, fancy hotel, people bowing… not the worst way to spend a week.”
John’s mouth curved into a small smile. “Just wait until they put you on one of those obstacle courses.”
Roger turned his head sharply. “They wouldn’t."
He raised his eyebrows innocently.
Behind them, Wally let out a quiet chuckle.
Roger looked between them suspiciously. “You two know something I don’t.”
John simply picked up his room key from the desk and started toward the lift. “Night, Rog.”
Roger stared after him. “…Deaks.”
He turned halfway.
Roger pointed a finger at him. “If there’s slime involved tomorrow, I’m blaming you.”
John’s smile widened just slightly as the lift doors slid open. “Goodnight, Roger.”
Wally followed him in.
Roger sighed dramatically and trudged after them. “Should’ve stayed home with Freddie and Bri…”
The lift doors slid shut with a soft ding, sealing the three of them inside.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Roger groaned loudly and leaned his head back against the mirrored wall. “Jet lag’s going to murder me.”
“You slept half the flight,” John pointed out.
He tilted his head toward him. “I was resting.”
“You were snoring.”
“I do not snore.”
From behind them came the low rumble of amusement from Wally.
Roger turned slowly. “You too?”
Wally lifted a shoulder. “Plane was small, mate.”
He threw his hands up. "Unbelievable. Betrayed by my own security.”
John looked down, smiling faintly.
The lift stopped with another soft chime. The doors slid open onto a quiet carpeted corridor. Their footsteps were muffled as they walked down the hall, Wally bringing up the rear like a moving wall.
Roger checked the room numbers. “Here we are.”
He shoved his key into the door and pushed it open.
The room was large—bigger than most hotels they stayed in during tours. Wide windows overlooked the glowing skyline of Tokyo, neon lights blinking in the distance. Two beds, a low table, and a tidy arrangement of tea cups sat waiting.
Roger stepped in and whistled. “Alright, I take back some of my complaining.”
John followed him inside, glancing around quietly. “It’s nice.”
The blond dropped his bag onto one of the beds and flopped down backward, arms spread wide. “Dibs.”
John blinked. “They’re identical.”
Roger pointed at the mattress dramatically. “This one’s mine.”
He rolled his eyes slightly but set his bag on the other bed without argument.
Behind them, Wally leaned against the doorframe. “I’ll be down the hall,” he said. “Miami’s people are sending tomorrow’s schedule up soon.”
Roger groaned again. “Don’t tell me that.”
Wally smirked slightly. “Sleep while you can.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
For a few seconds the room was quiet except for the distant hum of the city.
Roger rolled onto his side to look at John.
“So,” he said lazily. “What do you reckon they’ve got us doing first?”
John sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing the back of his neck. “No idea.”
Roger squinted at him. “You look suspicious.”
“I always look like this.”
Roger snorted. “True.”
John reached for the kettle on the table. “You want tea?"
“We’ve just landed in Japan and you’re making tea.”
He shrugged. “It helps with jet lag.”
Roger shook his head with a laugh. "Only you, Deaks.”
John smiled faintly as he filled the kettle.