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If Poe had a choice, he’d never deal with other people ever again. He disliked the intricacies of social interaction. People were confusing and unpredictable, and every new face brought with it a new set of enigmas that couldn’t possibly be riddled out easily. It was, frankly, exhausting.
There were a few exceptions, however. One was currently nestled in bed with him, scrolling through social media and snorting derisively every few moments. This was the usual way Ranpo used his phone, and Poe often was left wondering why he still read social media posts if he thought they were all so ridiculous. Not that he’d ever say that out loud; he trusted Ranpo’s judgement a little too well, as several of his boyfriend’s coworkers had gently criticized him for before.
Curious nonetheless, Poe tried to glance at the screen of Ranpo’s phone. The characters were too distorted to read easily from this angle, so he shifted a little, but it was hard to crane his neck that far without disturbing the other man. He settled instead for murmuring “What’s going on?” and threading his fingers through his hair.
“Ugh,” Ranpo began, lowering his shirt sleeve from his mouth. “People. They just...oh, you know! Weird priorities. Weird concerns.” With that, he locked his phone and dropped it onto the sheets. “It’s really annoying. It’s no wonder I apparently have to help solve every major crime in this city—country even—when this is what people spend so much of their time worrying about!”
Poe still had no idea what “this” was, exactly, but Ranpo seemed uninterested in clarifying. His cuff (Poe’s cuff, really, of one of his old button-down shirts) was back in his mouth, and they lapsed back into silence. It was comfortable, at least—most people seemed to expect silences to be filled. Poe, for all his dramatic flair, wasn’t always a master of casual conversation. He much preferred to listen. Of course, then, what a stroke of luck it was that Ranpo could monologue for what seemed like hours, going on tangents of tangents. It was a mental exercise in and of itself to follow what Ranpo was thinking that led him to connect two topics that otherwise sounded unrelated, and Poe prided himself on being able to keep up a majority of the time. On his part, Ranpo seemed pleased with it, too—to not be met with a short “what?” when he paused or asked a question, to not get a noncommittal hum, to actually get a response that showed the other party could keep up, that was certainly the best possible scenario.
Best possible scenario? Ah, wasn’t that a nice thought. Poe tied a few loose knots into Ranpo’s hair, twirling a strand around his finger, pulling the end through, the knot untying itself the moment he let go. Best possible scenario. Best possible? Who in their right mind would want the company of a man as reclusive and eccentric as he? Ranpo certainly seemed to, but why?
Ranpo tilted his head upwards, looking questioningly at Poe over his shoulder. Oh, dear. He’d asked that out loud.
“I always do this?” Ranpo replied in a statement that sounded much more like a question.
He thought Poe meant—ah, goodness. Of course he didn’t mean that, Ranpo. “Not...not that, sorry. I didn’t—I was accidentally thinking out loud.”
Unlike Ranpo had earlier, Poe knew he wouldn’t be able to get off the hook without explaining. The man was a detective by nature, and he always had to know every last detail or it’d never leave his head. It drove him crazy, he’d once admitted to Poe—some nights he couldn’t turn off his mind, so active it was trying to piece together the truth of passing situations he’d never know the real answer to because in the grand scheme of things they had been wholly unimportant to Ranpo’s life. Oh, but he was waiting for an answer. He looked slightly impatient and had now taken to gnawing on the button of his shirt sleeve.
“Sorry, um, I guess I just was wondering about, well. Why me? Why—no, that’s honestly it. Why me, of all people?”
Ranpo looked bored at the question. Bored? Perhaps a little thoughtful, but Poe had thought his question at least had some merit. Was it that annoying? “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—it’s a ridiculous question, I know, you don’t really need…”
“Hey. Just shut up a second.” Ranpo huffed out a quiet laugh at that. “Not something I usually have to tell you. Anyway, it can’t be anyone else or whatever. That’s all it is. Most people can’t—well, don’t really want to—keep up with me, and it’s annoying and frustrating but you can do it and you even can keep me entertained, which honestly isn’t easy for people to do unless they’ve just killed someone and I’m hot on their trail.” He paused, far sooner than usual, and glanced up at Poe as if to make sure his words were actually sinking in.
“And you seem to actually like being around me, that’s part of it, too. I know a lot of people only kind of put up with me because they respect me and my ability, but you seem really interested in spending time with me in general on top of admiring my ability, which you totally should and I totally get why you would. Plus, you don’t think of me like a kid, like the President or some of the other people at the agency do—hell, sometimes it feels like even Yosano does, and she’s my best friend. But you, I guess, saw me as a rival for so long that you couldn’t do anything but respect me?”
“Like you should be,” Poe murmured.
“Like I should be!” Ranpo confirmed, grin spreading across his face. “So don’t worry about why. I’m here, aren’t I? That’s all that should matter, Edgar.”
He reached up to Poe’s hand in his hair, pulling it away and lacing their fingers together. Poe took a deep breath.
“Alright. You’re right. Thank you, Ranpo.”
A sly grin broke out on Ranpo’s face. “Call me Ranpo-sama and I’d say things like that more often.”
Poe shook his head, unable to suppress a smile. “I think I’m fine with what I can get anyway.” He paused, hesitantly adding, “Or we could save that for later tonight…”
Ranpo nodded, a little too enthusiastically, and accidentally knocked himself in the teeth with their entwined hands.
Poe kissed the side of his head. “I probably should go grocery shopping today.” They’d spent far too long lazing around in bed today. “Would you want to come with me?”
“As long as you buy me whatever snacks I want.” He sounded like he was negotiating, but Poe knew the answer would never be “no.” After all, Ranpo would tell him as they walked down the street side by side, sounding as if he’d read Poe’s thoughts earlier, any day together was a best possible scenario.
It surprised Poe to hear it—Ranpo really didn’t bother praising others out loud often—but unlike with anyone else, there really was no riddle to figure out regarding why Ranpo had chosen to say that. He’d already been told, hadn’t he? There wasn’t any reason to worry about it too hard. The reason was simple, and there was only one possible answer, only one that would fit this situation, and Poe didn’t even need to rehearse saying it a thousand times like he did his order at a restaurant (or, come to think of it, the first time he’d said this phrase).
“I love you,” he mumbled, a finger twirling through his own hair in lieu of Ranpo’s, just out of reach as they turned down an alley, a shortcut Poe had learned about one day while trying to find his boyfriend after he’d gotten lost on the short walk from the Agency office to Poe’s apartment.
Ranpo stopped abruptly in front of Poe and waited, expectantly.
Ah. Here was another thing Poe didn’t need to think too hard about. If it was anyone else, perhaps, he’d wonder what the hold-up was. But he’d learned to read the cues Ranpo gave him (few, unusual, so unique compared to what he got from anyone else). He threaded his fingers through Ranpo’s hair (a good feeling, a nice feeling, even better than his own), craned his neck down, and Ranpo stood up on his toes to meet him halfway. The kiss was short and loving, and that would have been enough. But then, as they were pulling away, Ranpo murmured, “Love you too,” and Poe couldn’t resist leaning back in for a second kiss, longer this time.
They split apart again, Ranpo clinging on to a handful of Poe’s cloak as they proceeded on their way.
Comfortable. That’s the only way Poe could describe the feeling of being with Ranpo. Even as they entered the busy shopping district, voices overlapping and the crowds closing in on them from both sides, Poe felt comfortable. It was still exhausting, to be sure, and he definitely felt a part of him wishing they were back home in his quiet room, but it was nothing like if he’d been alone. That, he supposed, was why Ranpo was an exception to his desire to be away from other human beings as a general rule. He was bright, loud, energetic, almost the polar opposite of Poe in so many ways. And yet...he made sense. People didn’t make sense, as a rule. That was part of why he’d started writing in the first place—perhaps by studying them in his stories, he could figure out how other people worked. But then he’d met Ranpo, and he finally felt like he’d met someone who could match pace with him. And he’d even been bested, what a thrill!
Ranpo was giving him a look again. He wanted to know what was going on, why Poe was so quiet. He knew it wasn’t just the usual anxieties. He was too smart to fall for that explanation. It was always best to be honest.
“It’s comfortable with you.” And that was all he needed to say. Ranpo gave another beautiful grin, and tugged on his cloak, leading him towards the convenience store on the corner.
“I know it is, I can tell. Now come on, you promised to buy me snacks.”
It was Poe’s turn to be unable to say “no.” Not that he would, seeing his smiling face in the bright afternoon sun like this. Best possible scenario, wasn’t it? Poe had to agree.