Archive of Our Own ^beta

Kaito notices it by accident. It’s been weeks of dodging Hakuba Saguru’s nosey detective-y habits and trying to throw him off the trail, so of course Kaito is looking for anything that might be a weakness—he’s a hundred percent sure Hakuba is doing the same right back. Their pattern has been settling in as Hakuba accuses, Kaito deflects, Kaito gets back with a prank, rinse and repeat. Hakuba has no problem getting in Kaito’s face when he’s calling him Kid. The funny thing?

Hakuba does not know how to handle it when Kaito gets in his face back.

Kaito catalogs the way Hakuba freezes and tilts his chair the slightest bit back when he invades his space. All irritation that led him to this point is gone up into curiosity. As anyone who has ever known Kaito more than a few minutes could attest, curiosity and Kaito are a terrible combination. He braces a hand on Saguru’s desk and leans closer, finishing what he came over to say. “So at least try to find some actual proof before throwing blame. It’s upsetting Aoko.”

Note, Aoko is not currently upset about Hakuba. Hakuba doesn’t need to know that. She was upset the night before, and about how Hakuba kept barging in on her dad’s investigation not his pointed fingers at Kaito for once, but Hakuba didn’t need to know that either. Kaito’s annoyed at him because of a trap at last night’s heist, but it’s a lot easier to have Aoko be an excuse than to give himself away.

Hakuba is almost cross-eyed, frozen like he can’t decide if leaning away is showing weakness or not. “…Noted.”

It’s the most rattled he’s been when not in the middle of a prank. A little voice in the back of Kaito’s head makes a note that this might be something they can use. Kaito leans back and Hakuba unfreezes. Hmm.

Of course, the only way to be sure if this is something that trips Hakuba up is to test it.

Kaito sits back at his desk, a plan unfolding in his mind.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Aoko asks with the proper amount of suspicion anyone who knew him should have.

“Had a thought.”

“Is it going to disrupt class?”

“Not telling. That’d ruin the fun.”

“Kaito,” Aoko says, unamused.

Kaito grins at her. “I swear I won’t sabotage next week’s test.”

“No damages. Nothing big to clean up. We’re not on cleaning duty this week.”

“Promise,” Kaito says. That’s enough for Aoko for the moment, though he knows she’ll try to pin him down on details later.

Hakuba gives him a deeply unimpressed look from across the classroom that conveys he’s watching Kaito’s every move. Kaito grins wider and knows it sets off the detective’s paranoia. He’s been looking for something interesting to do during school hours anyway.

*o*o*

Saguru is certain something has changed with Kuroba. He’s not sure what is going on in his crazy classmate’s mind, but there is, without a doubt, a plot of some sort happening. For one, there are an increased number of unsettling smiles in Saguru’s direction. For another, Kuroba has taken to getting spontaneously close to Saguru’s personal space and it is both annoying and nerve wracking.

Like right now. Kuroba isn’t even doing anything at the moment. It’s lunch. Aoko invited Saguru to join them and of course he agreed because what better way to observe Kuroba up close? But it’s backfiring because Kuroba is sitting on top of the desk Saguru is using, his hand almost brushing Saguru’s every time he tries to take a bite of food, and Kuroba’s whole side is close enough that Saguru can swear he feels the warmth of him even through their uniforms.

And Kuroba isn’t looking at him. He’s talking with Aoko. He’s not even saying a word to Saguru or looking at him, and yet it can’t be as casual as it has to look for an outside observer. It has to be a deliberate tactic of some sort because Saguru can’t think of a reason that Kuroba would be comfortable enough to be that close to him otherwise.

Saguru checks his lunch, but there’s nothing slipped in it. There’s nothing in his hair. Kuroba hasn’t taken his watch or made anything explode in Saguru’s face yet.

Truly, there must be a catch.

“We should all try it then, right Hakuba?” Kuroba says, turning toward Saguru.

Their hands brush for less than a second and something in Saguru freezes up. It’s better than leaping back, which is what his brain tries to make him do a moment later, but he catches the impulse so it doesn’t show as anything more than a slight twitch of his dominant hand. “Pardon,” Saguru says. “Try what?”

“A new noodle shop!” Aoko says. “It has birds. A bit like a cat café only with budgies. You two both like birds, right?” She looks expectant.

Saguru wonders when she decided they were friends enough to want him to get along with Kuroba because that is clearly the only reason she would try to get them in a location with such a thin stretch at shared interests. "I suppose I do like birds,” Saguru says. Because having a hawk does imply a liking for creatures with feathers, though there is a world of difference between a trained sparrow hawk and a tame budgie. Kuroba would undoubtedly be much more at home since he had doves.

“A little weird to have a noodle shop with a bird theme,” Kuroba says, “but it sounds like fun.”

Saguru’s survival instinct pings, wondering why Kuroba would want to include him. Perhaps it has something to do with whatever reason he keeps being close. Perhaps it’s because Aoko looks so excited. Perhaps, Saguru thinks as he takes in the mischievous spark in Kuroba’s eye, there is some sort of plot to publicly humiliate him. At least he can rest assured that Kuroba will not harm any birds if this is a trap.

“It does sound interesting,” Saguru says after a moment of hesitation.

“Not too busy to spend some time acting your age?” Kuroba jokes, leaning in too close.

And Saguru knows it’s losing, but he leans away. His personal bubble has never been smaller since coming to Japan and he’s not sure what to do with Kuroba constantly tap dancing past the edge of it. “Despite what you think, I am capable of having fun.”

“Hmm, have yet to see it,” Kuroba quips.

Aoko giggles. “I’m inviting Keiko too.”

“Cool, just no inviting Koizumi.”

“Why not invite Koizumi-chan?”

“Because we want to have fun, not end up with a mob of boys scaring away the birds.”

“Hmm...” Aoko says, “good point. So we invite her some other time to a place where there aren’t a lot of people.”

Kuroba grimaces and Saguru kind of agrees, much as he’s loath to admit agreeing to anything with him. There’s something not quite right about Koizumi. “So. Saturday?”

“Saturday,” Aoko agrees. They both look at Saguru.

Saguru gives in and accepts that this is happening. “Saturday. But no earlier than eleven.” It is the one day a week he allows himself a true lie-in. Goodness knows he needs the rest.

“Eleven-thirty Saturday. We can meet near the clock tower since it’s nearby.” Aoko grins and Kuroba gives her a fond look that he probably wouldn’t be wearing if he knew Saguru was making close note of it as all his expressions.

It’s just a day out. Saguru can handle that much.

Then Kuroba glances back at him and there’s that glint in his eye again and… Well, Saguru supposes he’ll live through Saturday no matter what happens.

*o*o*

It’s fun watching Hakuba jump and twitch away every time Kaito’s just a little too close. And when he doesn’t move, he goes very still in a way that means he has to be hyper aware of how close they were to touching.

The couple times Kaito does touch to see how he’d react? Priceless.

Of course all of this means getting stupidly close to Hakuba. Hakuba who had handcuffed him, tested his hair follicle as Kid and constantly grates on his nerves with his superiority complex (not that Kaito doesn’t get being proud of your own achievements, but he doesn’t talk like 90% of the people he interacts with are dumber than he is. Err. Not usually anyway.) It’s worth that little sacrifice though. It takes so very little to get ridiculous responses and he’s enjoying it immensely. If anything, seeing Hakuba’s paranoia skyrocket while nothing more than a brush of pinky fingers happens is worth holding off some of the prank ideas he’s been stockpiling.

Hakuba’s also a lot less annoying when he’s distracted enough to not be smug at everyone or throwing accusations in Kaito’s face every five seconds.

It’s kind of weird, but Kaito’s not even dreading having to spend out of class time with him at that bird restaurant Aoko hyped up.

“Hey Kaito,” Aoko says as they neared the clock tower where Keiko and Hakuba were meeting them.

“Mm?” Kaito hums, checking his phone for an update on a new batch of razor cards he’d ordered form one of Jii’s friends. Nothing. Also nothing from the Kid fanclub and their fun theories and occasional roasting of all things taskforce related. Pity.

“Is there something going on with you and Hakuba-kun lately?”

He looks up, face studiously confused. Aoko looks back with guileless interest. “Uh, no, why?”

Aoko raises an eyebrow. “Because you aren’t arguing with him lately. And he’s not saying you’re Kid. And you haven’t pranked him in two weeks.”

“Maybe I’m taking a break.”

“And you keep sitting really close,” she continues like Kaito didn’t say anything at all. “Like you do with me.”

Sometimes Kaito forgets that Aoko isn’t just a happy girl with a berserker temper and actually has a sharp brain. It’s just usually that shows up in book learning, not people skills, but he also forgets sometimes that she’s known him for more years than she hasn’t by this point. “So?”

“Are you friends now?” she asks bluntly.

He laughs. “Friends. With Hakuba.”

And Aoko puffs up, temper flicking on low-simmer. “You didn’t even put up a fuss about Hakuba-kun coming with us. You invited him to come before I did.”

Ok, true, but Aoko was going to invite him anyway. She’s been doing that lately. Inviting him to lunch. Inviting him to little things like shopping. Inviting him to more than one outing with Kaito though Hakuba’s declined all the other ones so far. Kaito’s pretty sure Aoko’s doing that thing she sometimes does when she sees someone needing something and gets it for them. Though Hakuba and friendship is a new equation there.

“You brought up the bird place because we both have birds,” Kaito points out. “So you wanted us to both go in the first place.” A thought occurs to him. “Wait, are you trying to get us to be friends?”

Aoko rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to sound so horrified. Would getting along really be that bad?”

Kaito opens his mouth to say yes on principle but stops before words can form with a grimace. Hakuba’s… maybe not the worst person in his acquaintance list. Akako for one. Aoko gives him a triumphant look. Kaito glowers. “He’s still a smug asshole a lot.”

“Kaito,” Aoko says drily, “I say this as your friend, but you’re a smug asshole a lot of the time.”

“I am not!”

“Who bragged about how much Valentine chocolate they got and then demanded more? And you call yourself one of the best magicians in the world. Hakuba-kun doesn’t go around bragging about his ability.”

“No, he just smirks and talks down at you like he’s so much smarter,” Kaito grumbles. But Hakuba hasn’t been doing that as much.

“I think,” Aoko says, her head tilting to the side, “he just doesn’t have much social skills.”

“You think?”

She whaps him lightly on the back of the head without even looking. “You only have social skills when you want something so don’t be such a jerk about it. I am your only friend.”

Ouch. Kaito frowns. It’s not wrong, but… Ouch. Aoko doesn’t usually hit below the belt like that.

“Hakuba-kun probably doesn’t have many people he gets along with his age,” Aoko says, “but unlike you he doesn’t know how to fake like he does.”

“I get along with people fine.”

“You entertain people. There’s a difference.” She stops beneath the clock tower, the restaurant’s big, cheesy bird-themed sign cheerful and visible if Kaito cranes his neck toward the next street crossing. “I hope you can be friends,” she says, open and honest because Aoko is direct like that, always has been. “I think you both could use a friend.”

“I have you,” Kaito says awkwardly.

“You do. I want you to have more though.” Aoko glances at her phone. “Oh, looks like Hakuba went straight to the café instead.”

“Rude,” Kaito says.

Aoko rolls her eyes. “I only said the clock tower because it’s a landmark. I’ll let Keiko know to just go straight there instead.” Her fingers fly over her keyboard as she leads them down the road right to the restaurant. The sign honestly isn’t any less cheesy up close.

Kaito’s left a bit wrong-footed as she steps into the café, bell jingling cheerfully behind them. Hakuba, of course, is already there, sitting at a table big enough for four looking strangely nervous. The nerves melt away as he spots them, a confident smile crossing Hakuba’s face as he waves them over. Huh. Kaito doesn’t know what to make of that. Or of the conversation he just had with Aoko, but that’s a bird of another feather.

He pays the cover fee for himself and Aoko as she bounces over to greet Hakuba. It’s nice in here, open and bright, though the food tables are separate from the actual bird area for health reasons. The bird room looks like bird paradise with all the perches and toys and little nesting baskets a bird could want dangling and attached to walls with dozens of bright-colored budgies and canaries and a few lovebirds flitting around and chirping loud enough to be heard even with the door shut. There are a couple cockatiels in a second room with patrons gently petting them as they sat on their arm.

Kaito kind of wants to upgrade his dove’s room. Some of the perch designs are really cool.

Aoko grins at him as he finally makes his way over. “I see you eying the birds. Do you want to pet them before or after eating?”

“After,” Kaito says because it’s more hygienic even if there are hand sanitizing stations. “Besides we’re waiting on Keiko.” Aoko’s sitting across from Hakuba so he could sit next to her… or… He slides into the chair by Hakuba’s side, taking note of how Hakuba tenses then relaxes as Kaito does nothing more than pick up the menu. “So. Why noodles?” Because it is entirely noodle dishes named after different birds with the exception of a tiny dessert selection that’s more the sort of thing you’d expect to find at an animal-theme establishment.

“Maybe the owner just likes birds and noodles?” Aoko says eying the different dishes.

“There,” Hakuba says, voice coming out slightly too loud before he clears his throat—still nervous? “There is a sign over there,” he points to one side of the cashier counter. “Apparently two friends with a love for birds got together and opened this shop. One runs a pretty popular noodle restaurant so they went with his expertise. The other friend came up with the desserts and the general theme design, and they both raise the birds.”

“Oh.” Aoko blinks.

“I got here early,” Hakuba explains, shifting slightly in his chair, “so I took the time to look around.”

“Well thanks for answering that question I guess,” Kaito says, bemused by how out of his depth Hakuba seems to be. He kind of expected him to just launch into talking about a case or something like he does at lunch, but he just sits there fiddling with the menu like he’s worried to open his mouth. It’d be kind of funny except it’s really not normal and it’s not even the sort of mildly paranoid Hakuba gets when he’s expecting a prank.

Kaito contemplates forgetting the whole ‘invade Hakuba’s space because it’s fun to get a reaction’ thing. But if he’s this weird about just going out to eat with people his age, maybe that just means he actually needs that casual… ugh, intimacy isn’t the word Kaito wants to use. He needs to get used to people and it’s totally normal for people to get close to each other or touch. Well. For friends to. Would it be better or worse for Hakuba to think Kaito is seriously making a bid at friendship?

Another thought to shelve for when he’s not with other people. Kaito casually leans over to Hakuba to look at his menu instead of the one in front of him. “So,” he says like Hakuba isn’t practically holding his breath to keep from accidentally bridging the last bit of space between them. “If you had time to look around, what looks best on the menu?”

“Err.” Hakuba shifts slightly away, not that there was far to go with the glass wall to the bird room right up against his side. “Well. The online reviews said that their udon and ramen are both good, but I was interested in trying one of the soba dishes. Or, well, the weather is getting warmer so perhaps a chilled ramen dish.”

“They have that?” Sure enough, there is hiyashi chuka under the ramen section of the menu.

“I’ve never tried it before,” Hakuba admits. “It seems like an ideal time to order something different than usual.”

“It’s kind of a salad with noodles,” Kaito says. “It’s not bad, but ramen’s better in soup than out. Ooh, hey they have yaki udon.” He reaches out to point at it and he swears Hakuba literally flinches. He glances up to find Hakuba’s face slowly going red, then across to Aoko who’s looking at him with a very pointed look that makes him both want to draw back immediately and plaster himself on Hakuba just to be contrary. He does neither, just sends Aoko a grin and asks, “And what looks good to you?”

“Oroshi soba,” Aoko says. “Hakuba’s right about chilled noodle dishes sounding good.” She keeps giving Kaito the look and Hakuba clears his throat, probably rightfully feeling caught in the middle of something.

Or he just doesn’t know how to handle Kaito still being in his bubble. “So we’re decided?” Hakuba says a bit desperately.

“We can decide on dessert too,” Kaito says cheerfully, flipping the menu over.

Of course that’s when Keiko shows up, a little out of breath and disheveled. “Sorry I’m late!” she says, sliding into the free seat and casting a slightly curious look at Kaito still in Hakuba’s space.

Kaito internally sighs and leans back into his own side of the table. Hakuba lets out a slow breath, relaxing. In other circumstances Kaito would be a little insulted at how he was reacting, but it still is funny how he can’t seem to decide how to take Kaito’s sudden closeness.

“It’s fine,” Aoko says. “We’re just getting ready to order food and drinks.”

The waitress takes their order and Kaito springs for some of the cakes for the rest of the group for dessert, which Hakuba protests about.

Aoko, cuts him off. “He owes me, Hakuba-kun, so just let him pay.”

And Kaito has an impulse and it’s probably not a kind one, but he can’t help but give Hakuba an over-the-top wink and say, “You can pay for mine next time.”

Hakuba sputters, Aoko laughs, and Keiko makes this weird snort-cough sound before hiding her face in her hands, all of which are just the sort of ridiculous reactions he loves. Kaito keeps grinning as Hakuba manages to finally get out the words, “Next time?” Like he can’t picture there being a next time, or maybe he’s thinking Kaito actually means just the two of them. Together. Like a date.

Oh that would be hilarious except they’d probably try to kill each other with words in the middle of it without anyone around as a buffer.

“I assume there’ll be a next time we all hang out?” Kaito says, pretending to misinterpret Hakuba’s incredulity. “Like today?”

“Oh. Right.” Hakuba’s face is pink Kaito notes with a bit of fascination. He’s flustered. Hakuba gets embarrassed by flirting. Another thing to think about later because on the one hand Hakuba losing dignity. On the other, flirting with Hakuba. But flustered Hakuba. Hmm.

They pass time until their food comes watching the birds in the next room and Kaito and Hakuba are called upon for bird facts which, despite not being the sort of birds either of them care for, they both have a decent amount of knowledge on. And their food, when it gets there, is as cutesy as the sign outside, which should not have been possible for noodle dishes, but there’s little bird-shapes carved from vegetables and carrots made to look like feathers. The food is actually pretty good too, though the whole experience is a bit on the expensive side compared to the sort of places he normally goes to with Aoko. Between the entry fee, drinks, food, and dessert, it costs a pretty penny. But Aoko is clearly having a good time and Keiko’s engaging with Hakuba who is actually having a conversation with a peer that isn’t full of ridiculous vocabulary.

Kaito of course has to keep things interesting by playing with the carved veggies and leaning in to Hakuba’s space a few times to get condiments. Not to make him trip over his words at all really. After the second time, Hakuba gives him a look like he wants to call him out for it but he doesn’t know what Kaito’s motive is to even accuse him. Kaito gives him his best innocent inquisitive look back which Hakuba doesn’t buy for a second.

After desserts shaped like cockatiels and budgies, they all go over to the bird room. There’s treats to offer and it doesn’t take long for a few birds to flutter down on each of them.

Kaito runs a gentle finger down a budgie’s back. They’re cute, if a bit shrill compared to his doves. Tiny too. But he’s always liked birds and these are no exception. Tiny claws prick gently along his hand as the bird accepts a treat. It trills and Kaito smiles. Aoko and Keiko laugh together as another bird hops back and forth between their hands.

Hakuba has a tiny smile on his face, holding very still as a canary uses him for a perch. Kaito’s caught off balance by it; he’d expected him to reach out or something, approach the birds but he’d let them come to him and he’d somehow managed to make his presence the least vibrant in the room. It’s so different from the Hakuba Kaito’s gotten to know, the whole time he’s been different, but maybe there’s more to Hakuba than he first seems.

Kaito could go over to Aoko but… Eh, she’s having fun with Keiko and he did plan to see Hakuba’s reaction to more overt closeness. He glides over with a bird on his shoulder and another clinging to his fingers. “Hey,” he says from close behind Hakuba and Hakuba stiffens again like he always does and it scares the canary away.

Hakuba has a tiny disappointed frown on his face before he takes a careful step out of Kaito’s immediate space. “Yes?” he asks, a hint of his usual imperious personality showing through.

“Hold out your hand.” Kaito grins.

Hakuba gives him a look like he expects Kaito to perform a magic trick in his face but he holds out a hand.

Kaito leans in, brushing their hands together as he coaxes the budgie from his hand to Hakuba’s. It goes happily enough; all the birds are incredibly friendly the way only hand-raised and trained birds tend to be. “Budgies are pretty cute. I wonder if they’d get along with doves.”

“Doves are much more mild mannered than budgies,” Hakuba says, eyes fixed on the bird, or maybe Kaito’s hand since he’s still touching, the back of his knuckles brushing Hakuba’s palm. “They. It’s generally inadvisable to house more than one bird species together, especially if one is more aggressive than another or there isn’t sufficient space and resources.”

“They seem pretty healthy and happy here.” Kaito holds still as another bird lands on their hands, hopping between Hakuba’s and his own.

“It’s a very big room with plenty of high perches.” Hakuba’s hand brushes a bit firmer against Kaito’s own, on accident or one purpose he can’t tell. “They’re very different from Watson.”

“Yeah, birds of prey would be pretty different.”

“Your doves. Are they similarly… affectionate?” Hakuba asks as a bird starts trying to preen his hair.

“All the time. I let them get away with a lot though. They’re pretty calm in general, unless it’s feeding time. Then it’s a bit chaotic. Or if I’m training a new trick. They get excited.”

They’re still touching. Hakuba looks almost relaxed again, with a small, genuine smile on his face. Kaito could take a step close and make Hakuba a flustered mess again, but he doesn’t want to. And that’s weird because messing with Hakuba is one of the best parts of his day, with banter with Aoko topping that, and coming out victorious as Kid just a bit above that.

He doesn’t want to upset the birds, Kaito decides, taking a step back and leaving Hakuba to the budgies. He probably imagines the way Hakuba leans slightly in his direction as he pulls away. After all Hakuba seems to hate being too close to anyone, especially Kaito.

He joins the girls in trying to lure a bright blue budgies from its perch with little chirping noises.

There are a lot of things he’s setting aside for later thought these days. Maybe he’ll even actually get around to remembering to look into them.

*o*o*

Saguru isn’t sure what the hell is going on. If Kuroba was just trying to mess with his head, he should have gotten his kicks and moved on by now. First there was sitting closer at lunch. Then there was him being actually friendly at the bird restaurant. Although he can’t say that friendliness was real because there had been more casual hovering too close for Saguru’s comfort going on there as well. And he keeps doing it. And sometime he throws in things that were, well, potentially innuendos though why Kuroba would use them with him is something Saguru’s trying not to dwell on.

Because if he takes it at face value it all points to Kuroba being attracted to him, but he has plenty of evidence that Kuroba hates Saguru for trying to expose him as Kid. Which only leaves the thought that this is some long-game psychological torment method. And it’s working.

If Kuroba sits close enough for their thighs to touch one more time Saguru is going to—! He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Combust? Cry? Give in to that part of himself that just wants to close the gap and feel Kuroba’s body against his own? He’s not supposed to want to embrace a suspected criminal. Especially not one who has repeatedly humiliated and defeated him. But Kuroba has an undeniable, magnetic charm that Saguru can’t help but admire as much as hate.

It’s almost a relief that there’s a heist tonight because at least that makes sense still. There’s the task force rushing around, Nakamori-keibu bellowing commands down the com line and Kid surely will still be Kid even if when he’s Kuroba he’s not being normal. Kid is a persona and Kuroba will play it out regardless of whatever game he’s playing in his civilian life.

The target for the night is a ruby necklace set in gold and studded with smaller, darker garnets around its center gem. Most of Kid’s targets are terribly gaudy, likely from necessity since he aims for gems above a certain carat these days, but this one, with its solid gold wire and sweeping curves is actually rather tasteful for a gem that’s larger than his thumb. Its owner had attempted to install a security system, but it was laughably bad. Saguru could easily get through it and he doesn’t have a fraction of Kid’s skill with this sort of thing.

Instead of cluttering the display area with Nakamori-keibu, Saguru chooses to stake out the most likely of Kid’s potential escape routes. He could choose a window or perhaps even attempt another bait and switch like he so loves—the display would be easy enough to do so—but Kid likes to be flashy when he can afford to be, so he’s likely to use his glider from an upper floor room. The best room to choose, with a balcony that could easily grant roof access and is best with the current wind direction is on the west side of the house, so Saguru goes there.

When he first arrived to Japan, he’d spent time trying to catch Kid in the thick of the task force, but if he’s honest, he prefers not to be. Too many people close together is stifling and he hates the suffocating feeling of being accidentally tackled by someone he’d rather not touch. It’s not like he detests touching people he’s just… unused to it happening. And getting surrounded, shoved by, and buried under people is not the sort of touch he would want anyway. These days he prefers to be a bit separated, either scoping out the best preventative location prior to a heist starting, or focusing on escape routes.

His watch ticks down the time and he knows it’s started three and a half seconds after midnight when the lights go dark below. It’s still a bright night, the moon glowing enough that no one is going to stumble over each other in the dark. Saguru waits, listening. Nakamori-keibu’s enraged bellow is loud enough to be heard from the third floor.

Saguru snaps his pocket watch shut and tucks it away. He listens, waiting.

Below, officers stream out into the night, chasing Kid or at least something they think is Kid. But Saguru has chosen correctly tonight and he hears the soft sound of the door opening though he can’t see it from where he’s tucked away.

Kid’s ghostly white form glides to the balcony door, the night’s target in hand. He looks at it for a breath, held up in the moonlight and huffs, just the slightest bit of sound and force in the breath. His expression is abnormally blank as he does it, like he’s trying to control some emotion.

Saguru has waited long enough, but perhaps too long, for before he can even reveal himself, Kid stills and looks around. Their eyes meet in the silvery moonlight and shadow.

“Hakuba-tantei,” Kid says with a little smile like they’re exchanging a casual greeting at an office party.

“Kaitou Kid,” Saguru says back, grave.

“I’d wondered where you were.”

“You’re becoming predictable,” Saguru says taking a step forward.

Kid doesn’t give ground. “Such a critic.” His smile grows wider. “I suppose I’ll have to try harder. It’s more fun when you have to try to keep up.”

Saguru restrains from rolling his eyes. Kid is terribly dramatic. He also could have leapt out the balcony door by now, so the only reason he hasn’t is because he’s humoring Saguru. He doesn’t even try to run as Saguru gets within grabbing distance.

Honestly. Saguru should tackle him here and now.

He doesn’t though and Kid just keeps smiling.

“Aren’t you going to run?” Saguru asks.

“Are you going to chase?” Kid challenges, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course.” The moment Kid twitches for the door he’ll whip out the cuffs in his pocket.

Kid, smug bastard that he is, huffs a laugh and actually takes a step forward. And another. And it’s all Saguru can do not to give him the satisfaction of stepping back as Kid’s close enough to feel the warmth of his body and see Kuroba’s blue eyes. All of Kuroba’s face really, though Kid’s used some sort of makeup to change the lines in his face some. It makes it seem narrower, sharper and his cheekbones seem a bit higher. Saguru freezes just like he has with Kuroba for weeks and internally curses himself for it.

He just doesn’t have the instinctive danger response from Kid that most criminals brought on or Kid’d be in a judo flip right that moment instead of Saguru being caught in a ‘person-too-close’ panic.

“Are you going to run?” Kid asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. Saguru isn’t breathing as Kid reaches out and ever-so-gently places the night’s heist around Saguru’s neck. “Hmm, rubies suit you.”

Saguru remembers to breathe and almost chokes. “What--?!”

Kid pats his face and Saguru sputters, hating himself a bit for wanting to lean into that split second of mocking contact. For feeling hyper sensitive where Kid’s gloves brushed his bare throat. “It looks like I won’t need this gem after all,” Kid says. “Lucky you. You get the credit for returning it.”

“Kid!” Saguru reaches out to… to what? Catch him? The cuffs are the last thing on his mind. And Kid steps back, Saguru’s traitorous body leaning toward him, still rooted in place like a fool.

“Goodbye, detective,” Kid says with a mocking wink. Or was it meant to be flirtatious? What is happening?

He opens the door and Saguru finally can move. He lunges after him but Kid is already the sound of laughter and a white triangle gaining height from an updraft. Damn it. He grits his teeth, watching that bit of white get more and more distant with a mix of irritation and self-directed anger. What even was that? Saguru isn’t letting that happen again. He touches the necklace at his throat. Kid’s touch lingers in an echo of goosebumps.

He feels more defeated than triumphant when he finally trudges back down to the gallery room to tell the task force that Kid hasn’t taken the ruby after all.

*o*o*

Something has changed. It’s not just Kaito, and it isn’t just Hakuba, though something has undeniably shifted in both of them. Kaito can’t put his finger on it. It was supposed to be a joke, getting close, but it honestly doesn’t feel like one anymore.

Hakuba keeps freezing and sputtering and reacting in general when Kaito gets close. Even more spectacularly if he adds in a bit of flirting. It’s just that for all that he reacts, and all that he gets flustered, he’s never once asked Kaito to stop or reacted in a way that Kaito can entirely call negative. Yeah there’s the freezing thing, but it happens less often for the short invasions of Hakuba’s bubble these days, and Kaito’s not actually sure it ever was negative in the first place. If anything he’s starting to think of that freeze response as Hakuba’s brain short circuiting rather than him wanting Kaito to get the hell away. It’s like Hakuba doesn’t know how to handle someone being close in a setting that isn’t combat or catching a criminal, and that’s… kind of sad really.

And the more Kaito pays attention, he notices that Aoko’s right; Hakuba doesn’t really interact with people his peers. He’s polite to the point of coming across as antiquated charm, but if it isn’t related to his interests, he’s kind of terrible at connecting. Kaito saw a girl confess to him once and Hakuba had handled it so badly the girl had been in tears and Hakuba had just stood there awkwardly like he’d been handed a bomb. At least Kaito has the social skills to let a girl down gently. Kaito doesn’t have close friends besides Aoko by choice, not because he couldn’t manage the social skills to get more. Hakuba’s kind of pathetic and he’s still an asshole but Kaito doesn’t really hate him anymore. Besides, it’s kind of nice to argue—discuss?—moral quandaries and theoretical scenarios and play devil’s advocate about Kid-related things just to see how Hakuba will react. He’s a good conversational partner and Kaito likes and hates him for it in equal measure.

It’s around that realization when Kaito knows that his own plan to mess with Hakuba’s backfired and he’s managed to kind-of sort-of make friends with Hakuba.

If he hadn’t realized it before, sitting next to Hakuba now, while Aoko’s not even in school today, would cement it in his mind. He’d gone over to him at lunch out of habit and Hakuba hadn’t thought twice about it either because he didn’t even flinch from Kaito using his desk as a chair this time. Then again, he’s reading something very intently.

Kaito spends half a second considering the fact that he could go anywhere else or even eat lunch alone before discarding the idea. He leans over to see what Hakuba’s reading instead. “…You’re reading forensic psychology papers in class?”

Hakuba twitches, finally jerking away slightly. “Could you perhaps not read over me?”

“Nah, I’m curious.” Kaito keeps leaning even as Hakuba scoots the papers to one side. He just uses Hakuba’s shoulder to give an extra bit of balance. Hakuba, of course, goes from twitching away to completely still like he always seems to do when there’s actual contact. “That’s about how you determine if a witness is credible, right?”

“Among other things.” Hakuba… actually starts to relax even though Kaito’s still touching. “For the police and detective work, witness testimonies are important. The credibility of a witness is pivotal for cases and the parameters for credibility can be changeable at times. I’ve studied a good deal on the subject in London, but I don’t have as good of a grasp on the standards in the Japanese legal system so…”

“Is that something you do a lot of? Either being a witness or looking into credibility?” It’s something that Kaito should look into actually. It wouldn’t do to have a witness that couldn’t testify if he ever manages to set his crows up for a police net.

“As a witness?” Hakuba shrugs. “More often than not, I’m not a direct witness and supply a written report. I’m not technically a member of the police force, but more of a… consultant. In rare cases, yes I am a witness. As for determining credibility, that’s not something I do in an official sense.” He tilts his head and Kaito realizes they’re getting way too close bent over the papers. “Unofficially, I have to make judgment calls all the time. Being able to recognize mental illness or behavioral patterns are useful skillsets of any psychological field of study, forensics aside.”

Kaito leans back first for once. He’s not sure why but it’s a little unsettling looking into Hakuba’s face as he talks about psychology. And it’s not because Hakuba’s calling him a criminal this time, because he isn’t. “Huh. That’s interesting I guess.”

“I also just happen to like the topic,” Hakuba says.

He still hasn’t brushed off Kaito’s hand.

Considering he’s reading psych papers, maybe he’s decided to try and beat Kaito with mind games of his own.

“I like trying to better understand people,” Hakuba continues with a tiny smile on his face he’s probably not even aware he’s making. “Motivations, behavioral patterns, modes of thinking—they’re fascinating. I was bad at guessing them as a child, so it really helped to…ah...” He finally seems to notice Kaito’s hand and freezes up again.

“It’s helped to…?” Kaito says leadingly.

“To, ah, better understand where people are coming from.” Hakuba frowns. He looks at Kaito’s hand like it’s a puzzle he doesn’t have an answer for. That or like he can’t believe he didn’t realize Kaito still has it placed there.

“Hmm, just how bad were you with it? Like little old granny offering you a treat and thinking she’s going to kidnap you level of bad or…?”

Hakuba blinks and frowns deeper. “I’m not going to give you tools to mock me with.”

“Mm, fair enough. Though I have to wonder what your psychological profiles make of me.” Kaito smirks like it’s a come-on and Hakuba blinks again, slower.

Then he carefully reaches up and lifts Kaito’s hand off his shoulder. It might be the first time Hakuba’s touched him first that didn’t involve an attempted use of handcuffs. “I’m fairly certain you don’t actually want me to psychologically profile you,” Hakuba says.

“Not even to satisfy my curiosity?”

Hakuba shakes his head. “People don’t appreciate having bare truths thrown in their face,” he says with the rueful tone of someone who has learned that the hard way.

“And now it sounds like you’re advocating for lies. I’m learning all sorts of things about you today, Hakuba.”

“There is a difference between speaking lies and not speaking everything you know.” Hakuba shifts away and Kaito feels like he made a misstep somehow.

Kaito shifts away, picking up his lunch again. What are they exactly? Friends? Enemies? Hakuba doesn’t look at him like he’s constantly trying to pick him apart to expose Kaito’s lies and contradictions anymore. And after this little conversation, Kaito’s not sure if it’s because Hakuba doesn’t want to break their truce or if it’s because he’s figured Kaito out more than Kaito’d be comfortable with.

*o*o*

It’s a nice kitchen. It’s clearly been remodeled in the last three years, all clean and modern with granite countertops and a countertop with barstool seating for informal meals. It’s not at all what Saguru would have guessed Kuroba’s kitchen would look like. Granted he never thought he’d see the inside of Kuroba’s front door, let alone be sitting in his kitchen. It has Saguru full of a mess of twisting, complicated feelings that he’d probably have to cut through because they’re too much to untangle. It’s not much consolation that Kuroba looks just as conflicted about having Saguru in his inner sanctum as Saguru feels being there.

Of course, the whole reason they are there is Aoko. Nakamori Aoko is terribly hard to say no to. She is even more difficult to deny when she is being painfully earnest in her offers of friendship.

“But why,” Kaito says, sitting close to Saguru at the kitchen counter—by habit? By choice? — “do we have to do this here? Why couldn’t we use your kitchen?”

“Tou-san’s home,” Aoko says. “He was up all last night for a case so he needs the rest. You’re not quiet, Bakaito.”

“Well then we could have gone to Hakuba’s place.”

Saguru twitches. God, if he let Kuroba in his place willingly, who knew what mischief he’d get up to.

“Yours is closer,” Aoko says. She plants hands on her hips. “So. What cookies are we baking then?”

Saguru doesn’t know why he agreed to this. He isn’t even that fond of sweets.

“It has to have chocolate,” Kaito says.

“You and chocolate,” Aoko says fondly. She reaches for the cupboard and starts pulling out flour and baking powder and sugar. And a scale. Saguru has baked with weight measures plenty, but his mother had always preferred using volume measures to weight. Something about it being simpler to just scoop and dump in a bowl, less precise but making each batch of baked good a bit unique. Aoko tosses a chocolate bar at Kuroba’s head. “Start chopping.”

“Do you see this?” Kuroba says with a dramatic sigh. He leans on Saguru’s shoulder and Saguru feels the point of contact like a brand. If Saguru could just stop freezing every time he did this, maybe he could even enjoy the feeling, but it’s as alarming and surprising as ever. Kuroba goes even further and plants his chin on Saguru’s shoulder. Saguru can smell his faintly citrus-like shampoo. He stops breathing. “She takes over my kitchen and orders me around!”

“If I left you to bake them, they’d come out wrong,” Aoko says. “You have no patience to follow a recipe.”

“Recipes are more like guidelines,” Kuroba says.

“Baking is a science,” Saguru says. He regrets saying it because it means Kuroba turns a pout his way from less than a handspan from Saguru’s face. He can’t handle this.

“Of course you’d say that,” Kuroba says. “Killjoy.”

“You have to follow it at least a little or you won’t have an edible result,” Aoko says. “Hakuba-kun, you can stir ingredients; I’ll measure.”

Oh thank god, a task. Saguru moves so quickly Kuroba almost falls over without him as a prop. Kuroba pouts even harder and Saguru is Not Noticing this. He dutifully puts all of his attention into stirring in every ingredient Aoko adds to the bowl, carefully not watching Kuroba.

Of course, not watching Kuroba is as bad as watching Kuroba because ignoring him is an excuse to be bothered. Saguru twitches as Kuroba slides up behind him and puts a hand right in his face.

“Chocolate?” Kuroba says, and yes, there is a piece of chocolate in his hand. Right in front of Saguru’s mouth. Is he… Is he expecting Saguru to eat it directly from his fingers? Before Saguru can decide whether or not to attempt that mortifying prospect, Kuroba takes the initiative to push it right against Saguru’s lips. It’s take the chocolate or risk Kuroba shoving his fingers in Saguru’s mouth too. Saguru’s face burns. “Aoko bought the good stuff,” Kuroba says, pulling his hand away.

He offers Aoko a piece next like nothing happened at all.

Saguru stares down at half-finished batter, a feeling not unlike having fire ants crawling over him itching at his skin. What does Kuroba want from him? Is it still just a joke? Is this how he is with friends? Is this all because Kuroba always needs a reaction? He hates the uncertainty and hates that he likes these small intimacies as much as he doesn’t know how to tolerate them. If only he knew whether Kuroba meant anything by them.

“Chocolate time,” Kuroba says, tipping the chunks into Saguru’s bowl.

Saguru mixes it in mechanically. Kuroba sits on the counter next to the bowl. Of course he does. Of course.

“I’m really jealous that you have a full oven,” Aoko says as she pulls out a baking sheet. “Making these in a toaster oven takes forever.”

“I counter that with—toaster oven, perfect for personal cookies whenever you want if you freeze the dough, much more space and energy efficient.” Kuroba eats leftover chocolate out of a cupped hand. A tiny bit has smeared on the corner of his lips and Saguru can’t help how his attention keeps being drawn back to it. He wants to wipe it clean. Then he’d have less reason to keep staring at Kuroba’s lips.

“Good point,” Aoko says, “but it’s still more fun to bake them in a big batch. Do you have a full oven, Hakuba?”

Saguru blinks at her attention still caught by the smear of chocolate. “Hm? Oh, yes, there is a full Western-style kitchen at home. In London, there are actually two full sized ovens.”

Both Kuroba and Aoko give him a perplexed look. “What would you need two ovens for in a house?” Kuroba asks.

“They’re useful for entertaining. You can have a roast or casserole going in one oven, and dessert baking in the other.” It’s not even terribly rare to have two ovens, but to someone who grew up in Japan where an ‘oven’ was either a toaster oven or a microwave for most people, it probably seems excessive.

“You could bake cookies so much faster,” Aoko says, taking a shine to the idea. “Hakuba-kun, you could practically have a bakery out of your house.”

“Yes?” Theoretically that was possible, but why would he want to? The only time baking was done in bulk was for Christmas.

“I’m a little bit jealous,” Aoko says.

“I’m not,” Kuroba says. “You don’t really need more than one oven for baking cookies.”

“It’s still cool though.”

“But think of how much space that takes up.”

“They’re embedded in the wall,” Saguru says. “One above the other.”

“…How does that even work?”

“One door flips down, the other has hinges that pull up. It’s really a convenient design.”

“Weird,” Kuroba says. He finishes the last of his pilfered chocolate.

Aoko plops the baking sheet in the oven and sets a timer. Saguru holds onto the bowl of remaining dough for lack of anything better to do.

“You know,” Kuroba says after a few minutes of waiting for the treats to bake, “we could just eat the dough.”

“That’s disgusting,” Saguru says.

“What? No it isn’t. It’s tasty.” Kuroba steals the bowl. “And people obviously like it or there wouldn’t be cookie dough made to eat raw. Or cookie dough ice cream.”

“Kaito, don’t eat all the cookie dough raw.” Aoko steals the bowl back.

Saguru is trapped between them and would love to retreat to the other side of the kitchen where he wouldn’t have two warm bodies fighting over a bowl or raw dough right on top of him. He solves the problem by grabbing the bowl himself and pushing past them. “We’re baking, so let the dough be.”

“Spoilsport,” Kuroba says wrinkling his nose.

“Honestly, it’s raw.”

“It’s good.”

“It’s sticky paste with chocolate lumps.”

“Good sticky paste.” Kuroba makes grabby hands. Saguru rolls his eyes.

“Boys, no fighting.”

Kuroba turns his pout on her, but Aoko is immune to it after so many years in close proximity.

“I have another chocolate bar,” she says. “Eat some of that instead.”

“It’s just not the same.”

Saguru shakes his head and gets another sheet of parchment to dole out the rest of the dough on so that they can just exchange out the cooked for the raw with very little fuss.

“Can I at least scrape the bowl?” Kuroba asks right before Saguru puts it in the sink.

Saguru sighs. “If you get sick off it, it’s your own fault.”

Kuroba leaps off the counter with a little bounce and snatches the bowl from his hands. “Thank you!” He gives Saguru a side-hug before skipping off around Aoko like he thought Saguru was going to retaliate.

Saguru isn’t sure what he’d do honestly, he’s a bit too busy being frozen up. Again. Dear god, what will it take to stop having this response? Does he have to have Kuroba touch him even more to get used to it? The idea is shamefully appealing in ways Saguru doesn’t want to closely examine. Especially since he’s still not sure how sincere any of Kuroba’s touching is.

His fingers trace his shoulder where Kuroba squeezed his bicep a moment before. Kuroba bickers with Aoko as he manages to scrape tiny bits of dough Saguru missed from the bowl into his mouth. Neither of them seem to notice Saguru’s conflict at all. That is…good. He is glad they don’t comment. Truly. Glad.

Their comfort with each other is clear in how they lean in and around and touch without a thought, years of being friends plain as could be.

He doesn’t know how to be like that.

Saguru doesn’t know if he can be.

The timer goes off and Aoko pulls fresh, golden chocolate chip cookies from the oven. They smell delicious. Kuroba immediately burns his finger snatching one from a tray.

“Hot!” He juggles it a moment before magicking a napkin to cradle it in.

“You could have waited five minutes,” Aoko says drily. She pulls the cookies onto a baking rack to cool and slides the ones Saguru prepped in their place to bake.

“They wouldn’t be as fresh,” Kuroba says. “They have to be eaten right out of the oven.”

“It’s your mouth you’re burning,” Aoko says without pity. “Have fun with blisters on the roof of it and trying to taste anything for the next day.”

“It’s better with ice cream, but I didn’t think to get any…”

He looks so sad that Saguru falls into his orbit like he seems to always be doing. “Next time.”

“Next time?” Kuroba perks up. “So you’ll bake with us again?”

“Yes.” Against his better judgment. Oh, who is Saguru fooling? They’re both his friends in some capacity by this point. “…perhaps next time we could use my kitchen.” He’ll just have to keep Kuroba sufficiently distracted from mischief.

“Are there two ovens in this one too?” Kuroba gives him a grin.

Saguru rolls his eyes. They’re going to bring that up forever aren’t they? “No, there’s only one oven. It is bigger than the one here though.” For those days Baaya decided to use a proper roaster pan.

Kuroba bites into his cookie and ends up breathing awkwardly as he tries to cool the morsel in his mouth. He goes back for another bite seconds later anyway, getting more dabs of chocolate smeared at the corner of his lips.

Saguru wants to clean them away so much it’s painful. He’s not sure if it’s the urge to touch or cleanly tendencies that is the driving force of the impulse. He looks away and watches dough melting in the oven toward flat, pebbled discs. He definitely doesn’t watch Kuroba’s tongue flick out to chase the mess melted chocolate has made on him.

“Okay,” Aoko announces, prying a cookie free. “They’re a little less molten now.” She passes him one as Kuroba steals another from the rack.

The center is still soft and the chocolate bits molten, still hot to the touch but not too hot to hold.

It’s sweet and chewy and good. He doesn’t really like sweets, but there’s something nice about this one.

Kuroba bumps their shoulders together and the taste of vanilla and chocolate on his tongue is all the better for it. He absolutely does not wonder what the taste would be like if it came from Kuroba’s mouth. He doesn’t think about that or the chocolate on his mouth or the warmth of his presence at all.

*o*o*

Kaito lays on Aoko’s bedroom floor, tossing a juggling ball idly. His homework is finished in a messy, rushed way beside him and Aoko’s still working away on her bed. “Aoko,” Kaito says, contemplative.

She doesn’t answer.

“Aoko.”

“Mm?”

“Aoko, am I bad with boundaries?”

“Yes,” she says without even a pause for thought or to look away from her work.

Kaito catches the ball and pouts.

“Don’t even look at me,” Aoko says, still not looking up. “You knew exactly what I was going to answer. Boundaries might as well not exist to you.”

“I don’t trample over every boundary I see.”

“You’re bad at respecting pretty much every definition of the word,” Aoko says. She flips a page. “I’m pretty sure you just like the adrenaline rush of doing something you’re not supposed to do. Like flip my skirt.”

“That’s because you blush.”

“Which makes you a jerk.”

Kaito internally shrugs. If it truly bothered her, she wouldn’t be friends with him by this point. In her own way Aoko didn’t care about rules any more than he did, she just was keener on keeping the appearance of being good than actually being good.

“How do you know if you’ve crossed the wrong one?”

“Did you make someone cry?”

“No.”

“That’d be one indication. I’d ask if you felt guilt, but you never do, so…”

“I do. Sometimes.”

Aoko snorts, disbelieving.

Of course Kaito feels guilt sometimes. It’s just not usually what he’s supposed to feel guilty about. The problem is he isn’t always sure when he’s supposed to feel guilty according to societal standards in the first place, and that means he can go way past other people’s social boundaries without even meaning to. Aoko had a lot more flexible boundaries than most people, but that’s probably because she grew up with Kaito in the first place.

He tosses the ball, adding another, then another, simple juggling a nice counterpoint to his thoughts. Did boundaries shift? Did Kaito’s boundaries shift? Those were hard to define and harder to pin into a semblance of clear-cut anything. He drew a lot of lines in some ways—people who were important, those who weren’t, what he was and wasn’t willing to do as Kid, what masks people could see, who could get to know him on a deeper level. He has a good number of boundaries but they change like the tide depending on the situation. Try to line people up in boxes and they’d slide out of them and ooze into different ones and he’s guessing that’s part of what Aoko means with him and boundaries too. It’s impossible to talk to someone and not care a little. Into the ‘acquaintance’ category they went, and most never made it out of there. But there were cracks in it, and if people showed up enough they’d start ending up in different places, all cross contamination. Like Hakuba. Hakuba who’d gone from ‘enemy’ to ‘rival’ to dripping into ‘friendship’ and maybe something more.

Kaito frowns. Aoko’s the same. She’d been ‘pretty girl’ to ‘friend’ to ‘best friend’ to ‘crush’ to ‘love’ and somehow still blurred all the other categories in the background, adding to them instead of completely shifting to another place in his thoughts. And that’s Hakuba. Still a rival-enemy, but a friend blurred over it all and a longing for his attention the same way he’d felt with Aoko in middle school when he’d realized all over again that she was pretty.

“Aoko, do I cross Hakuba’s boundaries in a bad way?”

Aoko looks up.

“Kaito, do you really think Hakuba’s the sort of person who’d keep saying yes to social things if you’d done something he considers too far?”

Maybe? Hakuba’s weird about what he’s polite about. And even weirder about what he isn’t polite about. He’s as prideful as Kaito is and they both take digs at each other’s pride on the regular. And hell, he still thinks—knows?—Kaito is Kid, and isn’t that something he’d consider ‘too far?’

Kaito makes a neutral sound in the back of his throat.

Aoko tosses an eraser at him and it actually hits.

“Ow!”

“You don’t care about his personal space boundaries,” Aoko says, “or you’d have backed off. And you don’t care about his moral ones either. You have too much fun prodding at both of those things. Are you sure this isn’t about your own boundaries?”

“What boundaries?” Kaito jokes.

Aoko gives him a flat look.

“I’m… not great at friendship,” Kaito mutters.

Her face slides from stern to confusion. “You do fine at friendship. When you mean it, you’re really serious about it.”

“Which is why you’re my only friend,” he shoots back. And inevitably she is more than that.

“It’s not the end of the world to add Hakuba to that list.”

Isn’t it though? Kaito thinks of the way Hakuba stares, the way he seems to look right through all of Kaito’s misdirection sometimes and see everything that lays under it. He’s not sure he likes the thought of anyone besides Aoko getting close to him like that.

“So I take it this is you being done with pretending it’s just about making Hakuba freak out every time you touch?” Aoko asks lightly.

Kaito misses one of the juggling balls. It bounces off his forehead. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says like nothing happened.

“Kaito.”

He starts juggling again.

“Kaito,” Aoko says again with the hint of a growl.

“I’m not… Boundaries,” he mumbles, focusing on the balls so he doesn’t have to look at her. “If I let him closer it’s going to get all blurry.”

“That’s a bad thing?”

“Isn’t it?” Kaito catches the balls and sits up. “I already have you; I don’t need anyone else this close.”

Aoko tips her head like she’s seeing him in a way that’s uncomfortably similar to how Hakuba looks at him.

“And Hakuba probably only tolerates me anyway. He might not even consider either of us friends. It’s not like we know what’s going on in that weird detective brain of his.”

“No one gets what’s going on in your head either, Bakaito,” Aoko says. “And we are friends now, I think. He’s stopped yelling at you or making accusations. And he does things with us if we invite him.”

Kaito struggles to find words to imply yes but there is more here than friendship without outright confessing he sees her as more than a friend too. The words aren’t there and he groans into his hands instead. Does Aoko know? How he feels about her? Or is she just seeing his interactions with Hakuba and drawing conclusions without the whole story? “I hate emotions.”

Aoko snickers. “Yeah, they suck.”

“…I really don’t need more than I have,” he mumbles into his hands. “I’m doing fine. Great.”

“You never get lonely?”

Kaito can’t answer that.

“Because sometimes I do.”

And Kaito keeps causing problems that take her dad away. Ow, really needed that sucker punch of guilt.

“I think Hakuba might be lonely,” Aoko says. “But he’s less lonely when he’s with us. Even if he doesn’t know what to do with it.”

“He’s okay with people, he just doesn’t know what to do about being touched,” Kaito blurts. Then blushes because it sounds kind of inappropriate and he didn’t even mean it that way for once. “In a friendly way! He doesn’t know how to handle being touched at all! Not in a pervy way, stop giving me that look!”

Aoko’s laughing at him inside even if she’s just grinning on the outside. “Did you want to touch him in a pervy way?” She actually wiggles her eyebrows at him.

No. No, they’re not having this conversation. This is too weird. “And I’m going home now, have fun with the rest of your homework. Good heart to heart.”

Aoko laughs out loud as he grabs his stuff and shoves it in his bag. His ears are still burning by the time he’s out the front door. Why does he fall for people who call him on his bullshit? Kaito has the worst—best—taste in people.

*o*o*

Kuroba is avoiding him. Oh, he is still talking and teasing and sitting nearby at lunch. But he hasn’t touched Saguru once in the last three days, and Saguru hadn’t realized how much he’d grown used to it until it suddenly stopped. It’s the same feeling as missing a stair, open air and misstep, waiting for the ground to hit. Saguru doesn’t know what he did but he wishes he could take it back.

There’s a body width between him and where Kuroba sits on top of Saguru’s desk—by the edge, not right up against Saguru—and he’s talking with his hands as usual, but it’s much more with the hand opposite Saguru so there’s no chance in accidentally touching.

Saguru couldn’t tell what Kuroba is talking about, hasn’t heard a word since the realization of what had felt off the last two days slammed him in the chest. The gap between them feels wider than the English Channel.

He could reach out. He could cross that gap and circle his hand around one of Kuroba’s waving wrists and feel warm skin against skin, the pulse of Kuroba’s heart.

Saguru could lean forward on his elbows and edge into the space like Kuroba usually did. He could shift so that his arm brushes Kuroba’s side. He could nudge a leg against Kuroba’s dangling feet. He could reach up and touch the curve of Kuroba’s face and see if that would make him still for once.

Kuroba might flinch away.

Saguru’s hands clench into fists. It isn’t fair that he wants to touch. He’s never needed it, never wanted it much before, but every part of him wants Kuroba to reach out with his casual touches that are so overwhelming and to bask in that feeling. That simple human connection.

There is no reason to touch casually in Saguru’s daily life. Not unless he is stopping someone from being harmed or trying to catch a criminal, but then again those aren’t exactly ‘casual’ touch.

One of Kuroba’s hands comes to rest on the desk. Saguru can’t help staring at it. Kuroba’s nails are short and neat, but one is cracked and sealed with something, maybe superglue or nail polish. There are tiny scars all over them and he bets there are stories behind each and every pale line, and only some of them are connected to Kaito’s night life.

Kuroba’s body shifts. Stands, and that hand slides across the desk.

Saguru catches Kuroba’s wrist on automatic, touching so much easier than he’d thought it would be. They both freeze this time, Saguru unable to look away from where his wider fingers circle Kuroba’s wrist almost the whole way around.

“Uh, Hakuba?” Kuroba says, lightly pulling against the grip.

Saguru lets go like it burns. Why did he do that? He can’t look at Kuroba’s face even to see if he’s messed things up. “Apologies,” he murmurs.

“Did you need something or…?”

“I need to.” He needs to go somewhere else immediately. “Excuse me.” He stands and leaves, still not looking at Kuroba.

“Oi, Hakuba! Class is going to start back up!” Kuroba calls after him.

He can miss a class period.

Saguru shuts himself in a bathroom stall and screams internally. His hand can still feel the weight and warmth of Kuroba’s wrist. Of all the times and people to have his barriers break down with… If he were anywhere but a public restroom, he’d indulge the childish, panicky part of his brain that wanted to curl up in a ball and freak out for a while. Sadly, this is a public restroom and so Saguru locks himself in a stall and limits his response to pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing very slowly.

He can’t wait until he’s older and perhaps emotions and hormones will be a bit stabler.

Being sixteen and socially challenged is the worst. Maybe he’ll grow out of it?

It’s almost fifteen minutes exactly past the start of class that the bathroom door opens. Saguru knows it’s Kuroba even before he says anything; there’s glitter stuck to his school shoes from one of his pranks a few weeks ago.

“Hey, are you actually using the toilet or just hiding?” Kuroba asks.

“Go away, Kuroba,” Saguru says with a sigh.

“Hiding it is.” Kuroba pops his head over the top of the toilet stall door. It’s an annoying move of upper body strength that Saguru wishes he didn’t find appealing. “…what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“Honestly? Like you’re both hugging yourself and debating pinching your nose off. You have finger imprints.”

Saguru scowls in his direction.

“Do you need an actual hug?”

“I don’t believe that will help the situation.” Just the opposite.

“Is this seriously just because you touched my wrist?” Kuroba asks in a judgmental voice. “Because you’ve grabbed my arm in public before.”

“Shut up, Kuroba.”

“It is about that. What the heck, Hakuba?” In the next moment, Kuroba levers himself over the door in the small space between the stall and the ceiling and right into Saguru’s space. Saguru steps back but there is very little room to go anywhere with two people and a toilet.

“Kuroba!”

“Oh calm down, no one is going to come in and if they did, who cares? It’s not like we’re doing anything.”

“Do you honestly think anyone who walked in would stop to check?!”

“This wouldn’t even be the weirdest thing people have seen me do,” Kuroba says. Fair enough, but Saguru doesn’t have that sort of reputation for ignoring social conventions and he’d rather not gain it now. “Why are you being so weird about just grabbing my wrist?”

“Why have you been avoiding touching me?” Saguru blurts. Dear god, he’s going to combust with embarrassment.

Kuroba blinks. Shockingly, his cheeks get pink too. “You’re complaining that I’m not touching you? You always freeze up and get weird when I do.”

“And that has never deterred you before.”

Kuroba meets his eyes and Saguru doesn’t flinch away. Not even when Kuroba takes another step forward and there truly isn’t any way to keep a reasonable distance between them. He can all but feel the air warming between their bodies, so very close despite not touching. “Hakuba. Do you… want me to touch you?”

“…That sounds horribly inappropriate in this setting.”

Kuroba’s lips twitch up in a smile. He doesn’t back away. Instead he reaches out slowly, slow enough that Saguru could push him away if he wanted to. It’s just a light touch, just a brush of Kuroba’s thumb against where Saguru’s fingers pinched the bridge of his nose hard enough to leave it red, but it makes Saguru’s breath hitch and every centimeter of his body feel like a live wire. The touch skims down his cheek, just missing the corner of his lip, to his jaw and lower, to the sensitive skin of Saguru’s neck. He can’t hold in the shiver that twitches through him.

“Oh,” Kuroba says quietly.

Saguru closes his eyes and swallows. He isn’t sure what he wants still, but that doesn’t seem to matter with Kuroba’s touch on him. He wants that at least. He wants that whole palm against his skin and he doesn’t have the courage to ask for it or for anything more intimate.

As usual he can’t bring himself to move let alone touch back.

“Are you okay?” Kuroba asks.

“Yes,” Saguru says. Kuroba’s thumb brushes his neck again and he twitches. “No.”

“…Do you like me touching you?” Kuroba asks even softer.

Saguru feels like he’s cut open, vulnerable and seen and he hates it and likes it at the same time. He’s not sure if he wants to drag Kuroba closer or shove him and run. “…Yes.”

“I wasn’t sure,” Kuroba says. “With the whole freezing thing.”

“No one touches me,” Saguru says back. “No one gets this close. I haven’t been hugged in years.”

“Well that’s no good. Hugs are healthy.” Kuroba’s trying to sound light, but it’s not diffusing the growing tension between them the longer Kuroba’s thumb runs along Saguru’s throat.

Saguru swallows again. Slowly, he raises a hand to Kuroba’s, pressing on it so that Kuroba’s whole palm rests against his skin. Warm. Present. His face feels like it’s going to burst into flames, but the touch is good.

“If I gave you a hug, would that freak you out or be a good thing?”

“I don’t know.”

Kuroba decides to risk it, tugging Saguru in by a hand on the back of his neck. He’s shorter than Saguru is, but that just makes it easier for Saguru to slouch a bit and hide his face against Kuroba’s hair. He smells like fruit shampoo and something chemical. Kuroba is a warm line down Saguru’s body. He freezes. Does he… hug back? Should Saguru do something? But it’s so much, so much warmth and Kuroba, and the pressure of arms around his torso, hands splayed across his shoulder blades, and fruity shampoo, and the prickle of hair against Saguru’s face. The tickle of breath against his neck. The hug keeps going. And going.

Saguru slumps into it when it becomes clear that Kuroba isn’t going to let go. Kuroba holds him just a bit tighter and Saguru finds his hands tentatively reaching up to grip the edge of Kuroba’s shirt in a loose facsimile of a hug.

“Okay?” Kuroba asks softly.

“…Yes. Is this…?” Saguru clutches the tiniest bit harder. Kuroba lets him. Kuroba doesn’t try to move away at all.

“I like hugs,” he says. “Well, when I can get them. There’s not many people I usually want to hug.”

Somehow that’s surprising. Maybe because Kuroba dips in and out of personal space of everyone so much, that he touches casually all the time, but he doesn’t usually do more than brief touches, does he? Even with Aoko…

“I can’t remember the last time I did this,” Saguru says. But no, that’s a lie. He can remember the last hug he received from his grandmother in England before she passed away. He can remember hugs that lasted like this one when he was much younger, caught up in warm arms after a night terror or some small hurt that children collected in their clumsy enthusiasm to explore the world. He can’t pinpoint when the hugs stopped. When they went from full embraces, to circles of arms, to a touch on the shoulder, to nothing at all. Was it when he started school that it changed? When his parents began to grow apart? Was it when he started getting treated more and more like a man instead of a child, expected to keep emotions to himself and shoulder his needs on his own more often than not?

It was before solving cases and after he started martial arts because he can remember thinking how different a grapple was from a hug.

This hug starts to be too much but he doesn’t want to let go. Saguru is too conscious of all the places their bodies touch, how it’s too much stimuli and yet not enough to fill some aching part of him.

Eventually he has to let go though, and Kuroba lets him.

“All good?” Kuroba asks.

“Yes.” Saguru can’t look him in the eye. What was that? Friends don’t embrace quite that intimately in Saguru’s observations but…

“Good.” Kuroba steps back and scrubs at his hair. It stands up even more wildly than usual. “Should go back to class now.”

“Of course.”

Saguru straightens his clothing and Kuroba does the same, though it doesn’t look like they’ve been doing anything too inappropriate. Saguru’s attention keeps flicking to the soft skin of Kuroba’s neck and wrists and the light scars on his hands and the slope of his nose and curve of his lips; anywhere but his eyes because he can’t stop looking but he doesn’t want to know if Kuroba is looking back. Saguru has always been unsure what to do with feeling vulnerable. Now is no exception.

“C’mon.” Kuroba catches his wrist like it’s natural, and Saguru follows. He lets go before he enters the classroom and Saguru feels that touch, the echo of his own finger and palm against Kuroba’s pulse-point, like a phantom sensation the rest of the school day.

*o*o*

They don’t talk about it. It’s probably because they’re both horrible at emotions. Kaito isn’t sure which of them is worse, actually; they just have different preferred facades covering how they feel. They hugged and… life just went on? It’s actually weird how weird it wasn’t to hug Hakuba. Once he’s not stiff as a board, he’s a decent hugger.

Aoko keeps giving Kaito ‘subtle’ looks since that day even though he hasn’t said a word about what happened to her. That just means he has an excuse to be more irritating than usual at her. She hasn’t snapped yet, but Kaito’s counting down the last grains of her patience with each tiny grating thing he adds to the act. If some of that is leaning on her and stuff that he doesn’t usually do—he’s not masochistic and touch has lines even if he’s fine with walking all over them when he feels like it—she hasn’t called him on that either.

He might be feeling a bit needier than usual.

He should put on another heist. It would be a great outlet for the restless energy thrumming in his bones.

Instead Kaito finds himself walking aimlessly window shopping alone. Aoko’s working on a class project he finished a week ago. He could have invited Keiko or Hakuba, but Keiko is more Aoko’s friend, and Hakuba… Hm.

Would Hakuba accept if it was just with Kaito? Would that be too much like a date? (Would the thought of dates ever not make him panicky and nervous? He’s just as bad about the thought of going on one with Aoko not that he’s ever admitting that to her. She’s maneuvered him into a date more than once now. Not that they called it that but they hang out all the time and those times were definitely a different feeling between them…)

There’s some sort of commotion coming from a watch shop. Kaito slows as he sees a police car roll up. There’s already officers there though, probably from the koban down the street, close enough to get there quickly at a jog without need of a car. Kaito stops when he catches a glimpse of Hakuba’s light brown hair.

Of course Hakuba’s at the scene of a crime.

An officer walks out with someone in cuffs followed by a grim-faced Hakuba. Kaito can’t help sneaking up close and leaning an elbow on Hakuba’s shoulder even if he has to lean up a bit to do it. “So, another successful case?”

Hakuba gives a full body jerk like he narrowly stopped himself from a violent reaction—maybe shouldn’t have touched immediately after an active crime scene. Hakuba looks at him askance. “Kuroba.”

“Hakuba.” Kaito shoots him a grin as Hakuba slowly relaxes. He doesn’t brush him off either. Nice. “Please tell me this isn’t a murder scene.”

Hakuba snorts. “No. It’s not a murder scene.” He looks at the man being led into the police car. “It is, however, a scene of an attempted robbery.”

“Well aren’t you one for lucky timing.” Kaito guesses Hakuba had been there for work on his pocket watch.

“That’s one way to put it,” Hakuba agrees with dry humor.

There’s a curious sound from around hip level. Kaito glances down and sees another familiar face staring back at him. Inwardly he freezes. Outwardly he puts on a surprised look like Edogawa Conan is a baffling presence instead of a potentially scary one. “Hello…?”

Hakuba snorts again, no doubt finding this situation hilarious, and if Kaito wondered if he still thought he was Kid, this response alone showed that Hakuba never gave up that little theory. Even if he stopped being vocal about it. …Why was he so comfortable if he still believes that? “I had some help subduing the robbers,” Hakuba says. “Kuroba, this is Edogawa Conan. A fellow detective.” There’s humor in his eyes and a tiny smile on his lips; Hakuba’s the type to enjoy turnabout surprises. Why is Kaito not surprised? He’s just earned a prank in his future.

“Hey.” Kaito gives a little wave. “You’re pretty young to be a detective. You must be smart for your age.”

“You must be Hakuba-nii-san’s… friend?” Edogawa says, all wide eyed and innocent like he definitely isn’t. If Edogawa wasn’t such a pain, Kaito would appreciate the level of being a little shit the kid could pull off.

“Yup, his best friend,” Kaito says with a shit-eating grin at Hakuba’s expense. He makes sure to sling his arm around Hakuba’s shoulders and lean in even more that before.

Hakuba takes this with an abnormal amount of stoicism. “He means he’s a menace that haunts me personally.”

“Not just you. I mess with Aoko too.”

“Ah yes. Your other best friend.”

“No, I’m your best friend, but Aoko’s mine.”

“And what does that make me to you?”

“Second best,” Kaito says poking Hakuba’s cheek. Hakuba twitches like he’s tempted to dump Kaito on the ground. He still doesn’t push him off.

Edogawa watches the byplay with fascination. “Does Kuroba-nii-san go to the same school as you?”

“Yes.” Hakuba smirks at Kaito. “We did not get along when I first transferred, coincidentally. Kuroba is a fan of Kid’s.”

Kaito subtly pinches Hakuba because that was low. Don’t give the scary child hints. Hakuba twitches but the smirk doesn’t even leave his face.

“A fan.” Edogawa raises an eyebrow, seeing way too much. Kaito does not like how he’s focusing on his face, especially not in light of how many times he’s impersonated Kudo Shinichi without a mask.

“Yes, a fan!” Kaito says, channeling Suzuki Sonoko. “As a fellow performer, how can I not appreciate the skill that goes into Kid-sama’s showmanship! He’s dazzling in his skill! Yes, he takes a rock or two, but he gives them back. Do you have any idea how much effort must be put into some of the vanishing acts he does? Honestly, goals.”

“Your goal is to be a thief,” Edogawa says flatly.

Kaito frowns down at him. “No, it’s to be a world-class magician. I’m already amazing, but I aim high. Kid-sama’s techniques are on another level. Amazing an audience and evading the police? That’s some multitasking.”

“He’s insufferable about it,” Hakuba says, commiserating as Edogawa’s nose wrinkles.

“And you’re still friends.”

“He grows on you. Like a mold.”

“Hey! If I’m a mold you’re some kind of invasive vine.”

“Why a vine?”

“You keep coming back.”

Hakuba snorts and Kaito knows that there’s no hard feelings here for once. And Kaito’s not even annoyed that Hakuba has Edogawa giving him dissecting-potential-criminal eyes. Ugh, Hakuba really has grown on him. Why does he like him and his weird dry humor?

“Eh, you turned out not to be as stuffy as my first impression. He sometimes even laughs,” Kaito confides to Edogawa in an overexaggerated whisper. “Out loud.”

“I never pass up a chance to laugh at you making a fool of yourself,” Hakuba says.

“Ow. I revoke that best friend status.”

Hakuba huffs in amusement again and Kaito finally lets go of him. Edogawa’s looking at his arm with a bit too much insight.

“Anyway, I was just passing through and noticed Hakuba. Congrats on protecting society,” Kaito says, shoving his hands in his pockets so he doesn’t reach out and keep messing with Hakuba.

“You’re going?” Hakuba asks, and is it Kaito’s imagination or is there a note of disappointment in his voice.

“Er.” Kaito hesitates. “I don’t know what you had planned for your day besides watch repair, but I’m guessing the whole robbery thing interrupted it enough already.”

“Are you busy?”

“I was window shopping so no, not technically.”

“Just agree to get lunch together or something,” Edogawa cuts in.

“Wow, you’re kind of a rude kid,” Kaito grumbles.

“Am not. You both clearly want to spend more time together. I don’t even need to be a detective to see that.” Edogawa gives Kaito a pointed look that has no place being on the face of a six-year-old. But then most of Edogawa’s expressions have no place on a child’s face; he’s just creepy and scary like that. He looks at Hakuba. “You have a weird taste in friends though, Hakuba-nii-san. Are you sure he doesn’t look up to Kid a bit too much?”

…Kaito has a sinking feeling that Edogawa knows. Or at least thinks he does. Not that he has any more proof than anyone else. “Wow. Are you accusing me of what I think you are? On our first meeting? It’s like déjà vu. Too bad for you kiddo, I’ve been proved innocent.” Kaito jerks his head at Hakuba. “I spent a whole heist handcuffed to him once.”

Hakuba blushes slightly. “Kuroba.” He shakes his head. “At any rate, Edogawa, I believe Kuroba is a good person no matter who he might emulate.”

“You called me a force of chaos less than a week ago.”

“You are a force of chaos; that doesn’t make you a bad person,” Hakuba says. Kaito feels touched until Hakuba adds, “Perhaps a bit misguided though.”

“What a backhanded compliment.”

“Right,” Edogawa says skeptically. “Are you sure that—”

“Conan-kun!” a female voice calls.

Edogawa’s jaw snaps shut and he turns toward the sound with a grimace. It’s Mouri Ran, which isn’t surprising since she seems to be one of his primary caretakers.

“Conan-kun,” Mouri says as she enters the shop, “you need to stop running off like that! I was looking all over. If I hadn’t seen the police car…”

It’s a little sad that a police car is how she spots her ward, but at least she knows the kid, Kaito supposes.

“Haha… Sorry Ran-nee-chan, I ran into a case again.”

“More accurately a robbery in progress,” Hakuba says.

Mouri blinks and turns to Hakuba. “Oh! You’re… Hakuba-san, correct? No one was hurt, right?”

“No one was injured,” Hakuba says.

“Except for the robber,” Edogawa says.

“A few bruises at most,” Hakuba returns. “The judo throw merely knocked the breath from him, and you didn’t even break his fingers when you disarmed him with a soccer ball.”

…There’s a lot of ways Kaito can imagine that going down and clearly Mouri has the same line of thought. He can all but see her shove down exasperated worry.

“I’m glad you’re both okay then. And that no one is dead.” With Edogawa, someone is usually dead. “Conan-kun we need to—”

Kaito can see the exact moment she actually notices him, all her focus until then on Edogawa and Hakuba. Her face goes slack with shock, then tight with anger, and then confusion as she stares a moment longer.

“You’re… not Shinichi.”

“No,” Kaito says with good humor, “I’m not. But I keep hearing that I look like him.” A lie, but she doesn’t need to know that. “Kuroba Kaito, and you are?” he says with a dash of a charming smile just because he’s enjoying the way Edogawa is glowering at him. Kaito takes it a step further and leans close into her space. He’d take her hand too, but she has shopping in one hand a another around her purse strap. Still… He makes a flower appear. “For a lovely lady.”

Mouri stares at the flower for a beat before flushing lightly. “Mouri Ran… You look a lot like my friend.” She takes the flower and Edogawa looks murderous.

“Kuroba,” Hakuba says like a warning. Killjoy.

“I’d love to get to know you but you seem to be busy,” Kaito says to her.

Mouri blinks for a few flustered seconds before pulling herself together. “Oh, right. Conan-kun we need to head home so I can start cooking. Tou-san’s supposed to have guests, so…”

“Ah, sorry Ran-nee-chan,” Edogawa says all cute-like as if he isn’t a terrifying crime magnet.

“It’s okay, but we need to go now.” Mouri bows slightly in Kaito and Hakuba’s direction. “It’s nice to meet you, Kuroba-san, and good to see you again, Hakuba-san.”

“You as well,” Hakuba says. “It was a pleasure to work alongside Edogawa-kun again.”

“Hehe…” Edogawa gets a squirrely look on his face like he’s hiding something but it’s pretty par for the course for him in Kaito’s experience. He’s a bigger mystery than half the cases he solves. Mouri takes his hand and they leave and then it’s just Kaito and Hakuba. Alone. At a crime scene.

What a familiar scenario.

This couldn’t be further from those times.

“Must you?” Hakuba says.

“What?” Hakuba lifts an eyebrow. “The flirting? That was just to piss off Edogawa.”

“Hm.”

Not even a comment about how Kaito was making it a bit too obvious that he’s Kid. Is…Hakuba a little annoyed? Kaito flirts with so many people and Hakuba’s never seemed to care. Then again that was before… whatever it is that happened in the school bathroom. (A hug, it’s a hug, not a confession or something equally ridiculous. Get a grip, Kaito.)

Kaito clears his throat. “So. Do you want to get lunch? If you’re not busy?”

Hakuba’s silent just long enough to make Kaito wonder if he should backtrack. “If you are also not busy.”

“I wasn’t even doing any shopping,” Kaito admits.

“Then yes. I would like to get lunch.”

“Cool.” This is painfully awkward. Kaito’s not someone to do this sort of awkward, so he shoves the feeling aside and acts like his usual annoying self. “I think there’s a Western style tea shop a couple blocks over. Wanna try it and complain about what they got wrong with their menu?”

Hakuba softens, the edge of a smile edging at his lips. “I would like that.”

“Great!” Kaito launches into some story he barely is paying attention to about a time he and Aoko tried to put on their own tea party and determines not to think too hard about this. Any of it. He’s here, he’s with Hakuba, he’s having a good time. That’s all that matters.

Anything else can wait.

*o*o*

Kaito is injured and running on fumes and if he ever catches wind of whoever set Jii’s bar on fire, he’s going to make their life a living hell. Tonight had been a heist weeks in the planning, but because of said fire, Jii had been forced to deal with that literal fire just hours before the heist. And because Jii could no longer assist, Kaito had had to rework weeks of planning in a few hours to pull off the heist without help. It hadn’t gone entirely smoothly. He’d sprained his wrist in the initial disappearing act, and then his rappel later had almost failed because he could grip the rope right and had left him with rope burns on his hand, armpit and knee when he’d had to improvise a quick stop or be a pancake.

It’s much harder to do a quick change with a sprained wrist, and it’s much harder to walk like an ordinary bystander when the fold of your knee is a line of abraded skin. Kaito got home, heist successful, but feeling drained instead of his usual triumphant.

Of course, the gem isn’t even anything special. In fact, he’s fairly certain it’s a historic replica and the original is long gone, maybe even cut down to smaller stones to hide its disappearance. What a disappointment.

Kaito sighs and tosses the flawed gem onto his kitchen counter before grabbing his medical kit. He has no idea how he’s going to properly clean the armpit burn; it’s on the side of his good wrist. Well, first things first, ice, compress and elevate his wrist…

The doorbell rings and Kaito considers ignoring it, bone deep exhaustion dragging at him. Then it rings again. He sighs and heaves himself upright, straightening clothing to look normal.

On the other side of the door is Hakuba, hand raised to press the bell again. He blinks at Kaito and Kaito stares back, face neutral. He should shut the door. Hakuba was at the heist only an hour ago. He should make a few quips, play it like he’s been home even though they both know he hasn’t been, and send Hakuba off into the night.

But Kaito is very tired and it has been a long, stressful day, and he really wishes he wasn’t the only person home for once.

“Hakuba.”

“Kuroba. Are you okay? You seemed off tonight.”

Kaito stares at him, denials on the tip of his tongue. But Hakuba doesn’t look like he’s going to arrest him at all, just concerned as any friend would be and… And Kaito’s allowed to be weak sometimes.

“Kuroba,” Hakuba starts again.

Kaito sighs and slumps forward until he’s resting his forehead against Hakuba’s shoulder. Hakuba goes stiff as a mannequin beneath him. Slowly, one arm rises to rest feather-light against his back.

“Are you alright?” Hakuba asks again, much more worried this time.

“I’ll be fine but I really could use a hug right now.”

“Oh.” The hand presses just a bit tighter but Hakuba can’t seem to work up the courage—or maybe the desire, what does Kaito know?—to make it a proper hug.

“I could also maybe use another set of hands for some bandages.”

And just like that, Hakuba’s touch is firm and unselfconscious as he’s dragging Kaito upright and looking him over. “You’re injured? Where? How badly? Do you need professional medical care or—”

“Just a sprain and some awkwardly located rope burns. Nothing serious.”

“Oh.” Hakuba swallows, hands tight on Kaito’s shoulders. “That’s… good.”

“Yeah. Maybe let’s not do this on my doorstep?”

“Of course.”

He lets go and Kaito misses the touch immediately. He almost sways forward into him again, but he has better self-control than that. “Right. First-aid kit.”

“Sit,” Hakuba says, and Kaito does. Except then he remembers he needs to get his shirt off and has a moment of frustration over his injured wrist.

Kaito tugs the shirt over his head and hears Hakuba make a small strangled noise. “Mm?”

Hakuba blinks once, wide eyed before zeroing in on the abrasions and immediately switching over to the same laser focus he had when doing detective work. “This,” he says reaching for the disinfectant, “will likely sting.” For once, he doesn’t even hesitate when reaching out to touch.

*o*o*

It’s easy to touch Kuroba to clean his wounds. Ordinarily Saguru wouldn’t be able to reach out, but this isn’t casual touch but touch with purpose. That isn’t to say that he doesn’t notice Kuroba’s muscles or the faint scars on his torso as he dabs disinfectant into inflamed skin. He definitely notices the warmth and the way Kuroba’s breathing speeds up and each little hiss of breath that escapes between clenched teeth as Saguru hits a particularly painful spot.

Kuroba looks tired in more ways than one and Saguru isn’t good at comfort, but he wants to be in this moment. He wants to be gentle and warm and knows he’s probably managing professional at best. It’s easy to keep touch careful and precise. It’s harder not to linger in places he doesn’t need to touch. Along Kuroba’s pectoral. The line of his ribs. The slight hint of softness at his gut with his muscles relaxed. There’s no reason to trace the scar near Kuroba’s heart or the fine lines on his arm left from wire or glass. There are old bruises and new ones rising to the surface from harnesses and ropes and misjudged moments in acrobatics.

“Where else?” Saguru asks softly as Kuroba watches him with something unreadable in his eyes.

Kuroba holds out a hand with the same abrasive marks and Saguru disinfects those too, puts cream to soothe the pain and wraps it gently.

“Where else?”

A wrist, a clear sprain and swelling. Saguru tests to make sure it isn’t broken and Kuroba closes his eyes and grits his teeth but doesn’t say a word. It’s not reassuring that Kuroba has a high pain tolerance. Just the opposite really. Saguru braces it like he remembers from a first aid class, takes a cold pack from the kit and cracks chemical crystals until it feels icy to the touch. Some of the tension leaves Kuroba’s shoulders when it’s set on his wrist.

“Where else?” Saguru asks once more.

Kuroba tugs, clumsy, at his pant leg and Saguru kneels and rolls fabric up, up until he can see the torn skin at his knee and thigh. It’s worse than the first two abrasions. Saguru glances up, concerned at what must have gone wrong for this to happen and finds Kuroba staring back, intense. The position clicks in the back of his brain and he blushes even though there is nothing more to his touch than professionalism. “Kuroba…”

“That’s the last one,” Kuroba says. “I swear.”

Saguru huffs. “I hope that you aren’t lying because I will be upset if you are.”

“I have some bruises but they’re nothing bad.” Kuroba looks sincere so Saguru decides to trust him. This time. He’s letting Saguru help which is more than he’d ever expected to be allowed.

Saguru disinfects this wound too. Kuroba’s muscles jump under his touch, only self-control keeping him from flinching away. “…A rappelling line,” Saguru says as he carefully pulls threads embedded into Kuroba’s flesh free with tweezers. “Wasn’t it?”

“If you know the answer, why are you asking?”

“Perhaps I just like to have theories confirmed.” The wrist must have been injured first; that would be why the rappelling went so badly and why the abrasion is only on one hand, not both.

“Theorize less. I don’t like being the object of your theories.”

“Hmm.” Kuroba doesn’t move away though, not when Saguru finishes cleaning the wound, nor when he starts to wrap it.

The angle is poor and he’s uncomfortably aware of Kuroba’s other leg against his shoulder and the heat off his body and how closer this brings him to other places of Kuroba’s anatomy. He’s being a nurse at the moment though so he will not think too deeply about said anatomy.

“You haven’t flinched away once,” Kuroba says abruptly as Saguru ties off the bandage, one hand steady on Kuroba’s calf.

And of course that is what makes Saguru feel uncomfortable all at once. He lets go all at once, scooting out of Kuroba’s space.

“Hey, no that wasn’t a complaint.”

“It’s… different when it’s because of a task,” Saguru says, trying to explain.

“And I’m guessing when you’re doing the touching?” Kuroba sways forward. Saguru can feel the heat of him again.

He swallows.

“You can touch. I could use more hugs. Or anything really.”

Kuroba’s eyes are sincere, as vulnerable as Saguru feels in this moment, like he might shatter if Kuroba is the one to reach out first. He wants to lean in. He wants to leave because surely it’s not a good thing to feel anything as strongly as the mess of emotions churning through him currently is. Kuroba leaves him a choice.

Saguru reaches with fingers that tremble to touch the curve of Kuroba’s cheek bone. It’s where the monocle sat an hour and a half ago. The skin is smooth. It feels like his fingertips are burning, like they’re the only point of him that truly exists.

Kuroba tilts his face into the touch and Saguru’s whole palm is cupping soft, warm skin.

“Kuroba…” Saguru bites his lip. This doesn’t feel like something friends do. This feels more, deeper, and perhaps it is him projecting because all touch, any touch means something to him, but Saguru doesn’t think that’s the case. “What is this?”

“What do you want it to be?”

Saguru doesn’t have an answer.

Kuroba tips his head forward until they’re forehead to forehead, breathing the same air. Saguru can feel Kuroba’s eyelashes flick against his cheek. He could kiss him from here. He could pull him into an embrace. This is enough though. This is almost too much as it is.

“Would you be against cuddling on a couch and watching something that doesn’t take too much thought?” Kuroba asks.

On the one hand, Kuroba’s body close to his own. On the other hand, Kuroba’s body close to his own.

“You can say no.” Kuroba sounds exhausted. It’s the most vulnerable Saguru has ever seen him. Perhaps the most genuine.

Saguru wants more glimpses of Kuroba under the masks. Even if some of those glimpses are of a petty selfish side. Kuroba’s also a man who will jump from a helicopter to save an old woman from falling.

“Okay.”

Kuroba pulls him onto the couch and against his side. It takes long minutes into the nature documentary Kuroba puts on until Saguru relaxes, but once he does Saguru feels warm the whole way through. And it’s safe. Kuroba must trust him more than Saguru thought because they’re twenty-seven minutes into the documentary when he falls asleep, his head against Saguru’s chest. There’s warmth growing in Saguru’s heart. If he could distill this moment, bottle it for long and tired days at his lowest, he’d never feel lonely again. On the television screen, multicolored birds dart off in all directions, brilliant and bright. Saguru turns Kuroba’s ice pack over and dares to link the tips of their fingers together.

Eventually, his eyes slide shut to the smooth sound of the narrator and Kuroba’s soft breathing mingling in the background.

*o*o*

Kaito wakes up with a warm weight against him, a crick in his neck and ache in his limbs, and the sound of a camera shutter going off. He groans and turns into the warmth. “No pictures.”

“Yes pictures,” Aoko says. “Definitely pictures. This is adorable.”

Kaito glares in her direction before darting a bleary glance down at Hakuba who is currently acting as his pillow. Hakuba’s face is slack with sleep, comfortable and looking his age with relaxation smoothing his usual edges. His hair’s a mess and he’s drooling a little which is kind of both gross and cute. Hakuba’s also very warm and Kaito doesn’t feel like moving.

“So,” Aoko says. She perches on the edge of an armchair. “Since when are you on cuddling level?”

“Ugh. I don’t even know, I’m not awake enough for this.”

“Are you hurt?” she asks suddenly, honing in one the bandage around his hand and the lost icepack.

“Just some accidents working on a new trick,” Kaito deflects.

Aoko gives him a disappointed look. “You haven’t been following proper safety measures again, have you.”

He rolls his eyes. Set himself on fire twice and she never lets him forget it. “It’s fine. I’ll be better before you know it.” Just a few more scars. Who’s counting?

Hakuba snuffles and squishes his face into Kaito’s neck and it might be the cutest thing he’s done so far. Kaito flushes as Aoko raises her phone again, grin huge.

“Stop it,” Kaito hisses.

“No, I want this as my phone background.” Aoko takes a few more pictures before tucking her phone away. “…can I join?” she asks.

There isn’t a lot of room left on the couch with two teenage boys half-sprawled across it, but there was room if she didn’t mind almost ending up in Kaito’s lap. Some restless part in the back of Kaito’s mind finally, finally shuts up with two bodies heavy and warm against him. “I’m going to have all of my limbs fall asleep,” Kaito says musingly.

“Shh. You like it.” Aoko nuzzles up against him, legs ending up in Hakuba’s lap. Hakuba makes another tiny snuffley sound. Kaito’s not moving anytime soon. “We used to do this a lot more when we were kids,” Aoko says.

“Kids don’t have boundaries.”

“That explains you. You never grew up.”

“Hm.”

Kaito’s eyes flutter shut as he feels Aoko’s fingers in his hair. “Go back to sleep, Kaito,” she says. “We can all have a lazy day sometimes.”

“Mm,” Kaito hums in agreement. “Let’s do this more often…”

Kaito drifts off again with Aoko and Hakuba’s breathing tickling his throat, pinned by their weight. Instead of feeling trapped, he feels secure.

*o*o*

Saguru blinks awake to the sun at a much higher angle then it usually is in the morning. His pillow smells like stale sweat and ointment and it takes Saguru an embarrassingly long moment to realize it isn’t a pillow at all. He sits up abruptly. Kuroba’s nose scrunches and he curls into the other warm body nearby. Aoko. Aoko who definitely wasn’t here last night.

She’s wide awake and on her phone but she looks up when Saguru sucks in a surprised breath.

“Hakuba-kun.”

“Nakamori-chan.”

“Aoko,” Aoko says.

“…Aoko-chan.” Falling asleep with Kuroba does not explain why she’s there. “What time is it?”

“A bit past eleven,” Aoko says. “You both looked like you needed the sleep.”

“Ah.” He only ever sleeps this late if he’s been pulling all-nighters.

“What happened to Kaito?”

“An accident,” Saguru says, making up an excuse on automatic. It’s funny how a few months ago he would never imagine doing this for Kuroba’s sake. “It involved a pulley system.”

“Of course it did,” Aoko says with a heavy sigh. “He always ends up hurting himself chasing after some goal or another. He’s supposed to have a spotter for that kind of thing.”

“It’s lucky I happened to be nearby.”

Aoko gives him a look and Saguru has the uncomfortable feeling that she sees right through him. …Aoko doesn’t know about Kuroba, correct?

“Kaito is an idiot. Thanks for patching him up.”

“Of course.” How could Saguru not? Kuroba is… Kuroba is so many things, but he’s someone Saguru can’t ignore and someone important. Aoko can understand that feeling better than anyone. Kuroba is still curled up against Aoko like he’s a small child. It makes some part of Saguru’s heart feel warm. His wrist doesn’t look like the brace is doing quite enough though, swollen again at the edges. “He should ice that again,” Saguru murmurs.

“Hmm.” Aoko nudges Kuroba back into Saguru’s space. Kuroba latches on, still without waking up. Aoko leaves and Saguru can hear a refrigerator door open and shut before she returns with an ice pack and a towel to wrap it in. With a hint of mischief in her eyes, she immediately touches the cold, damp side of it to Kuroba’s cheek.

He jerks upright like he’s been electrocuted. “What the hell?”

Aoko giggles.

“Aoko,” Kuroba says, wiping his face.

“I don’t get many chances to prank you back!”

“Geeze,” he grumbles. Then he seems to realize he’s all but in Saguru’s lap. “Uh. Hi.”

“Hello,” Saguru says, amused. He doesn’t feel like he needs to run from the contact, or freeze, or even overwhelmed at the moment. It’s simply nice.

Kuroba goes red, color creeping down his cheeks.

“Cute,” Aoko says.

“Shut up, Ahoko,” Kaito says, blush reaching his ears.

“Wrist,” Saguru says, holding his hand out for the ice pack. Aoko gives him in and Kuroba lifts his hand like it’s automatic to trust him. Saguru presses the ice to his wrist and guides the arm to Kuroba’s chest.

Kuroba’s eyes skip between Aoko and Saguru and back to Aoko, unable to decide where to focus. “Thanks…” Saguru can’t help but smooth his thumb along the soft back of his hand.

Aoko watches the motion, intent. “Hakuba-kun.”

Saguru pulls away from Kuroba, guilty even though he’s done nothing wrong. “Yes?”

“May I touch you?”

He blinks. There’s no clear sign to why she asks this, nothing cruel or dangerous in her gaze. Nothing that he would constitute as warm either though. Saguru hesitates. “…You may.”

Aoko smiles and reaches out to touch his face. Saguru freezes. It’s a gentle touch, exploratory, and he expects to hate it but doesn’t. He relaxes by increments as the moment stretches on. He trusts her, he realizes. It’s a bit of a late realization, but she counts among his friends here too.

“Huh,” Kuroba says, watching them.

Aoko’s smile widens. “Right?”

“…Should I be concerned about whatever you two are communicating about?” Saguru says.

“No,” Aoko says.

“Maybe,” Kuroba says.

“That doesn’t inspire confidence.”

“You’re stuck with us,” Aoko says tossing herself on the couch and coincidentally across Saguru and Kuroba’s laps. Saguru’s suddenly very unsure of where to rest his hands.

“For better or worse,” Kuroba adds, tugging a strand of Aoko’s hair gently.

As friends? Romantically? As bringers of chaos in Saguru’s otherwise fairly regulated life?? It would be lovely if someone would clarify things for him. It seems like they’re intent on being cryptic though because both Aoko and Kaito have identical smiles on their faces that promise secrets and answers if only he sticks around long enough to ask the right questions.

Saguru lets go of his tension. They’re teasing, yes, but it’s an invitation to laugh with them, smile with them instead of at him.

“Perhaps,” he says with a small smile of his own, “you’re both stuck with me.” Very deliberately, he sets a hand on Aoko’s side and Kuroba’s arm. They’re warm and present and overwhelming against him, but he thinks he might like to get used to feeling this way.

*o*o*

Kaito sits on the edge of Hakuba’s desk, hips brushing his forearm, elbow grazing his shoulder as he shuffles cards. Hakuba is, for all outward appearances, engrossed in a book. He hasn’t read a line since Kaito started deliberately wiggling a little closer every few minutes to press them closer together.

“Hey Aoko,” Kaito says. “We should do something.”

“An outing?”

“Yeah. Like an amusement park or something.” Like a date. He leans on Hakuba, twisting around to look at Aoko over their lunches. Hakuba goes very still, and Kaito knows now that it’s not frozen rejection, but Hakuba cataloging every moment of the contact like he needs to store it for later. Kaito might like the oddity more now than he did when he thought it annoyed him.

“Hmm.” Aoko scrunches her face like she’s giving it serious thought. “How about an aquarium?”

Kaito shudders. “No.”

“It’d be like a haunted house just for you,” Aoko teases.

“Hakuba, Aoko’s being mean.”

“Let’s avoid traumatic phobias,” Hakuba says, not looking up from his book. He’s smiling a little though like he’s trying not to, and he’s leaning into Kaito too, so, win.

“Zoo then? Because we went to an amusement park.”

“But not with Hakuba.”

“Oh, am I included?”

“Duh,” Aoko and Kaito say together.

Hakuba smiles openly at that. “Would either of you be opposed to the natural history museum? I actually haven’t been to it yet.”

“Nerd,” Kaito says, flicking a lock of Hakuba’s hair. “Sure, I’m down for a museum. Aoko?”

“Yeah! I heard there’s an exhibit on mummies!”

Of course Hakuba looks interested in that. Is it a detective thing to be curious about dead people? Kaito huffs. “Yeah, I’m more for the dinosaurs and the walkthrough of Japan’s history than mummies.”

“There’s more there than we can see in a day, but we can see both,” Aoko says. “Kaito, remember not to do anything stupid in the museum.”

“Just because they gave me a warning when I was ten for using the play area—”

“You were literally climbing the walls. And tried to sit on the dinosaur skeleton.”

“I did sit on the dinosaur skeleton.”

“I don’t know how you didn’t get banned.”

“I mean, I was ten so…”

Hakuba snorts and bites his lip like he isn’t on the edge of ruining his public dignity and laughing like the teenager he is. “Please,” Hakuba says, “do not get us banned from the natural history museum.”

“No promises,” Kaito says, planning to actually do his best not to cause too much chaos; it’s a place Hakuba would probably like to go back to with them again. Especially if it ends up being their first more or less official date.

This is a nice moment. Aoko is smiling and Hakuba is warm and relaxed and Kaito is happy for real instead of pretending to be.

Hopefully there will be many more of these moments.

And Kaito turns the conversation to playful bickering about what dinner should be and keeps leaning on Hakuba. Hakuba sighs in that long-suffering way that means he’s actually amused as hell. Kaito pushes and Aoko and Hakuba meet him halfway to let him in. The lines blur a little more every day, but Kaito’s alright with that. He likes this warm place they’ve settled into.

Hakuba laughs. Aoko throws paper at Kaito’s head. And Kaito grins.