Work Text:
Kit was not expecting this to happen. “This” meaning multiple things.
He had not expected his dad to die. He guessed he should have, due to the illegal nature of his work, but he tried to not think about his dad in general. He had not expected his dad to have been murdered, practically torn apart, by multiple people. And he had not expected some guy to show up at his door at the ass crack of dawn and to ask about him, especially not when Kit was still in his pajamas.
Although, he had to admit, the guy was beautiful.
“Kit Herondale?” he asked. Kit nodded. “I’m here to ask you some questions about your father’s death.”
“You want to know about my dad?” Kit asked, voice slow and hoarse from sleep.
“Yes,” the man said. He had black hair, really naturally black, not dyed or dark brown or anything. His eyes were gray, like starlight or storm clouds, and his cheekbones were sharp as knives. He almost looked familiar, like he had seen him somewhere before.
Even though he was gorgeous, he was not in the mood for this conversation. “Why? And who are you?”
“I’m Ty Blackthorn.” Blackthorn stuck his hand into his pocket (no, stuck was the wrong word, they way he did it was way more elegant than Kit made it out to be or had the words for) and handed him a business card. It had his name on it, his email, and his job.
He looked up at him and raised his eyebrows. “You’re a private detective? Like Sherlock Holmes?”
Blackthorn brightened immediately, smiling a little. It changed his entire face, turning it from serious to excited in a very cute way. “Yes, exactly! The police hired me.”
“The police hired you for my dad?”
The detective nodded.
He would never have guessed the police would be interested in solving Johnny Rook’s death, considering he was a known criminal. This was getting less believable by the minute, but Ty Blackthorn seemed legit.
“Come in, I guess,” Kit said, stepping out of the doorway.
Blackthorn stepped into his shitty apartment, glancing around before sitting down on the couch. He sat down across from him, suddenly aware of how messy the place was. The other man didn’t seem judgemental, so at least there was that.
“So, why did the police hire you about my dad?” he asked. “I thought they already found who killed him.”
“They did,” Blackthorn said. “They think the killers, who are from the Mantid gang, were connected to someone else in the community who were holding them back from killing them. I wanted to know if you knew who that person might be.”
Kit ran a hand through his already messy hair. “My dad knew a lot of people. Can you be more specific?”
“He would probably have known him for years. Someone who was influential and popular, and someone who you wouldn’t expect to be involved with gangs. Someone who died recently.”
He ran a list of all the people his dad knew through his head. It was a long list, full of criminals and overall shady people, and for a brief moment he hated his dad again. It was probably disrespectful to hate the dead, but Kit didn’t really care.
“There’s Barnabus Hale,” he said. “He ran the place my dad worked at for a while. He was a huge asshole. Oh, and there was Malcolm Fade. They were friends. Kind of. Business partners, I guess. I don’t know. I haven’t exactly talked to my dad in a while.”
“Really?” Blackthorn asked. He didn’t sound nosy or disappointed, he actually sounded interested. A genuine person in LA, in his apartment. That was like saying Kit was the queen of England.
“Yeah. We had a lot of issues.” And suddenly everything was spilling out of his mouth, all the problems they had had that he hadn’t talked about with anyone. “Basically I couldn’t really go to school because he was a criminal, and he groomed me to be a criminal too and not to trust anyone. He also lied to me about my mom. She was part of this big family but he told me she was a Vegas showgirl that didn’t want me, so I didn’t know I had other relatives until I was like, seventeen. Then I moved in with my cousin Jace and his girlfriend, and I haven’t seen him since.”
Kit laughed self-deprecatingly. Embarrassing himself in front of a cute guy. Classic. “And I’ll never see him again. Because he’s dead. And I have no idea why I’m telling you all this. This is just great.”
He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, blinking back tears. “Sorry. You came here for information and I’m not being any help.”
“You are helping,” Blackthorn stated. “Malcolm Fade was killed recently, and he was very famous. Maybe he’ll have ties to the Mantids.”
“Maybe.” He bit back the rest of the words. My dad will still be dead.
When he finally felt okay enough to look back up, the detective was still sitting on his couch.
“I understand,” he said quietly. “My dad died too. It’s hard, but it gets easier.”
Wow. That was unexpected, but kind of nice. Ever since Kit had got the news, people were telling him left and right how sorry they were for his loss. It was a nice sentiment, but it didn’t help him. Blackthorn seemed to understand. It was comforting.
“Thanks,” Kit said, hoping it conveyed how much he meant it.
Blackthorn nodded, standing up and walking toward the door. He followed. “Thank you for the information. It will help.”
“No problem. Sorry for venting on you,” he added awkwardly. The man was beautiful, but this whole interaction had been strange, and he half wanted him to stay and half wanted him to leave.
“It’s okay. Goodbye.” He added a little wave to the end of his sentence, like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.
“. . . bye.”
And then Ty Blackthorn was gone.
Kit sighed, closing his door and flopping dramatically onto his couch. He felt strangely light. Maybe this had helped after all.
He never thought he’d see the detective again. But life, as always, had other plans.
It was half a year before it happened. He had flown out to New York City for his cousin Jace’s 28th birthday. They didn’t see each other very often, not since Kit had moved out, but they tried to visit each other every once and awhile. They were the only biological family each other had left, and in Kit’s case, his only family in general.
He was milling around the room, sipping champagne and looking for his cousin, when he spotted him. He choked on his drink at the sight.
Ty Blackthorn, in the flesh, in Jace’s living room.
He looked just as amazing as when he had first met him, with those stunning gray eyes and high cheekbones. The only difference he could see were his clothes, half a year ago he had worn slacks with a button-up, and this time he was just in a hoodie and jeans.
He looked equally hot in either of them.
And now he had spotted him. And he was getting closer to him. Fuck.
“Hello,” Blackthorn said.
“Hey,” Kit said. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here, Blackthorn.”
“My sister-in-law is friends with Jace. And call me Ty.”
His heart skipped a beat. Now that he wasn’t busy grieving his dad and simultaneously being angry at his dad, he could really notice how good-looking the other man was.
And how he was so familiar. Kit had heard the last name “Blackthorn” before. He distinctly remembered meeting a woman named Helen Blackthorn, with blonde hair, and her family from back when he was living in NYC. He must have been there.
He decided to play it cool. He had already embarrassed himself in front of Ty, he didn’t need to do it again. “Cool. Jace is my cousin.”
“I remember.”
He remembered.
Kit was screwed.
“So, did my amazing information help, gorgeous?” he asked, smirking. Usually when he flirted it didn’t mean anything, he only did it because he was bored or horny or wanted a distraction, but this time was different. This time it meant something.
Ty smiled shyly, and it was absolutely adorable. “Yeah. Malcolm Fade was protecting your father from them, paying them off, so when he died and the money stopped coming in they didn’t have any reason not to.”
He sighed. “That makes sense. My dad was really good at making people angry. No wonder he died.”
Maybe he said the wrong thing, because Ty’s eyes flicked down to his hands, and his eyebrows furrowed.
“What is it?”
“Did I say the wrong thing?” he asked, the words spilling out of his perfect mouth. “I didn’t mean to bring up your father’s death. People say I can be insensitive sometimes.”
Kit was quick to shake his head, quick to reassure him. “It’s fine. I prefer it when people are straightforward, instead of dancing around a subject. Besides, I did ask.”
“You did ask,” Ty agreed. He smiled again, and he was pretty sure he would do anything to keep it on his face.
“I was just going to find Jace,” Kit said. He held out his hand, praying that this wouldn’t be just one more bad decision. “Do you wanna come with me?”
For a moment, he hesitated, but then reached over and placed his hand in his. Ty’s hands were elegant and slender and smooth.
Beautiful. All of him was beautiful.
Kit smiled at him, and he smiled back.
“Let’s go,” he said.
And go they did.