Work Text:
Daisuke was ultimately a people person. Not that people like him or he them per say, just that he knew what they wanted from him.
He could consistently rely on his own instincts to tell him which buttons to push, how much money to throw around, he always knew exactly what would get him his way.
Those were essential facts of life, that was until Haru, an outlier in his rock solid belief in his own ability to manipulate. He didn’t seem to want money - not rare he had seen pride before just not of such a vibrant shade.
Haru’s pride was a barsh gold, he wouldn’t accept anything: money, material possessions, even help. Though Daisuke had never offered the third he had watched Haru reject help from others who were more inclined to kindness.
Maybe that was why, the innate frustration that came with the uneven footing that was Haru, when Daiksuke noticed the detective was struggling he didn’t offer a hand.
Bags grew under honey eyes, pale skin stretched tight, hand trembling as they reached for all ready cold coffee. It was mildly
concerning
amusing.
It was Kamei who first brought it up, Haru had gone for his first break in a few weeks after much insistence from his colleagues, voice concerned but more tired than surprised. It mustn't be a new thing- the fits of overworking. It must happen enough that it is a well accepted fact of their tiny world
His more caring co-workers, people that actually wanted to help Haru out of their own selfless goodness. It was an unfamiliar environment.
It was a Tuesday when Daisuke realised the extent of Haru’s exhaustion. The sun had been bright but it had long since gone down. That didn’t matter in the basement anyway, where the only indication of time was the ticking clock and the comings and goings of colleagues.
They were the only two left, Haru hunched over paperwork as he had been for hours. Kambe felt some sort of morbid curiosity at the seeming lack of hand cramps.
Suddenly the detective stood, pen falling to the table with a silence shattering click.
“I’m going to get a coffee.” He didn’t offer Daisuke one but it's not like the billionaire would have agreed to the mud that Haru seemed to claim was quality coffee.
Haru took about 10 steps, making it to the first creaking step before collapsing, legs giving out under the heavy weight of sleep deprivation and hunger. It wasn’t a surprise but it was terrifying.
His body slammed down, head colliding with the fifth step up with a resounding crack then… silence. No groaning or cursing, Haru’s body lay painfully still and Daiksuke couldn’t deny himself a moment of sheer panic.
Body seemingly acting on its own, he made his way over to the crumpled form of the brunette.
“...Inspector Kato?” He hadn’t heard himself sound so unsure in a long time but caring for others was uncharted waters.
A weak groan from the still slumped body and finally air filled Kambe’s lungs again in a rush of sweet relief. Though he wasn’t sure why.
He forced his body to move again, hands grabbing the cheap material of Haru’s brown coat to pull him into a sitting position.
Blood was dripping from the head wound, liquid red spreading from temple, over the eye and dripping of the chin. There was a lot of blood but he had lived with his distinctly violent sister long enough to know that was normal for a head wound.
“Inspector,” He squeezed his shoulder for a response and was treated with a deep groan and a twitch of the eyebrows. “Kato, I need you to wake up for me.”
He wasn’t accustomed to patience, having a deep wealth meant the privilege of usually being high up on everyone’s list of priorities but despite his lack of experience in the area he knew it was probably necessary when treating head trauma.
The collapsed man grunted again, whole face twitching this time before his copper eyes opened uncertainly . His pupils were large but not concerningly so.
“Dai-“ his voice was hazy, barely concealed confusion lingered before suddenly something sparked. A flash of realisation then he sat up straight as if just a moment ago he hadn’t been unconscious.
“My apologies. That was unprofessional of me. I’ll get back to work.” His words were clipped and tense. Daisuke was, for the first time in his life, stunned into silence.
An uneasy quiet fell upon the two as Haru struggled to stand, head still dripping blood and arms trembling under the pressure of pushing himself up. Frustration bubbled in both.
“Inspector Kato, you can’t honestly think you will be returning to work after -“
“Just because you don’t know a damn thing about hard work doesn’t mean I’m going to fall to your level.”
The only sound was Haru’s harsh breaths and the blood roaring in Daisuke’s ears as frustration grew to anger.
“Inspector. This isn’t working hard, this is overworking. You are going to hurt yourself. Hell, you already have!”
Haru’s eyes met his, honey gold melting into blue, before he nodded once. A harsh simple movement that spoke more than their words would ever be able to.
Daisuke wrapped his arms under the inspectors slump form, preparing to lift him to the sofa.
“Sorry,” Haru’s face was twisted into an awful mix of shame and fatigue. No response. Daisuke’s particular brand of social experience didn’t usually require him being adept at comfort.
The inspector was light in his arms,too light, and Daisuke racked his brain for a memory of Haru eating over the past week but nothing came to mind.
The walk to the sofa was short but Haru managed to fall asleep in that time, wrinkles fading as eyebrows unfurrowed and muscles losing any residue tension.
5 minutes passed in silence, Haru sleeping softly on the decade old coach. It was the same colour as the coat that was draped over him as a makeshift blanket.
The billionaire sat at his side, wiping the drying blood off his hand and watched with a sense of protectiveness that was as strong as it was unearned.