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Ranpo doesn’t know how they found themself here, in front of the entrance to the agency, Poe…confessing something. Something Ranpo wasn’t ready for. Won’t ever be ready for, probably. He thought Poe was smart. He thought he knew him, knew Ranpo, because nobody else did or ever would. But he was wrong, and wasn’t that a first?
He was wrong.
“I just thought I should let you know. I don’t wish to deceive you.”
“Poe,” He started, hesitant for the first time in his life, in what to say. Poe had a way of leaving him out of his element. Usually, it was exhilarating. Usually. “I don’t…”
“D-don't say anything!” Poe exclaimed, bowing deeply. His face flushed red, before he stammered, “I mean- please. I know. I only spoke to be honest. I had no other hidden intentions. I already know your feelings on the subject matter. So if you can...spare me.”
His voice cracked on the last word, despite his attempts to seem unaffected.
Ranpo felt his stomach churn uncomfortably. He found the only thing he could say was a whisper, “Poe…”
Just when had he let himself become so pathetic?
“I really couldn’t stand it if I had to hear those words so plainly. Just trust that I expect nothing from you.” And he straightened up, giving a small smile that's so obviously fake. Who does he think he is, fooling someone like Ranpo? He must be dumber than he thought.
For a moment he’s angry. Upset. How could Poe do this to him? Knowing what he knows? Wasn’t it just a few days ago he’d told him he couldn’t see anybody in his life? That nothing could possibly be more important than the agency. Nobody’s smart enough, interesting enough. So why does he feel guilty right now? It’s Poe’s fault for being so stupid and catching feelings. He got himself hurt, if anything. Ranpo hadn’t even thought much of the conversation before. Poe had stabbed at his cake, and asked Ranpo with a nervous look, if he’d ever thought about being in love.
It was just Poe being Poe, nothing else. It was easy to playfully smirk and tease him for such a weird question. It was easy to tell him “Love makes you weak. I’m above such things.”
He should’ve caught this, long before those pesky feelings could fester anymore past much deserved admiration. He should have distanced himself a bit more- shouldn’t have gotten so close. Now everything was changing. Again.
But then he looked back at Poe, sweet Poe, looking at his feet with his head bowed as if waiting for a punishment. His tense shoulders were shaking, just enough for Ranpo to catch, but not enough for the average eye.
“I knew anyway,” Ranpo began, lying through his teeth, “Probably even before you did!”
“Wha- really?” Poe stuttered, the wind causing his hair to move to the side. Ranpo could see the starry eyes staring back at him, and even at a moment like this, they shine in admiration. Ranpo felt very out of his element. He felt like someone picked him up and threw him in a freezing ocean. He felt like he was just about to take a bite out of his favorite snack, but someone took it from him right before-
Anyway, He thought, Poe’s just confused. After all, Ranpo is impressive. And cool, and awesome, and-
It makes sense. Honestly. It’s not Poe’s fault at all. It’s Ranpo’s fault for being too much. He shouldn’t have...he shouldn’t have encouraged Poe. He shouldn’t have let him stick around.
Why does Ranpo’s own thoughts feel false? Could he not trust himself anymore?
“Don’t worry, Poe. I’ll spare your delicate feelings. I’m not cruel, y’know.” Ranpo squinted at his friend, and forced a grin. “You owe me a bunch of snacks, for all this trouble.”
That was decidedly the wrong thing to say, apparently. Because Poe immediately tensed. And Ranpo’s a detective, of course. He’s not stupid. He shouldn’t have compared Poe’s fragile feelings to something like ‘trouble’. That it was ‘trouble’ for Ranpo. That’d be the last thing Poe would want. Ranpo just didn’t think about his words sometimes. He’s not used to having to, with Poe.
Once again, Ranpo is reminded of ice water.
Poe perked up, “Yes, of course! I would expect nothing less from my rival.”
That is something he would say, on a normal day, 6 months ago, when he still considered them to be enemies.
They both cringe, and now everything is wrong.
“I-I should...I’m just going to…” Poe stopped, an embarrassed flush appearing on his face.
Ranpo decided to save him some face, “I have a case to get too! They’re useless without me.”
He did not run.
The next few days were cold. Everything’s cold.
Ranpo was always easily more cold than others, it's why they constantly had to keep the heater up, even in the summer. He had thought, dumbly, at one time, that perhaps, Poe had made everything warmer. It was a foolish notion, Poe was as cold to the touch as him. So he has no idea why the air had suddenly decided to turn frosty on him. It’s supposed to be spring.
He usually likes spring.
He hadn’t seen Poe in about...3 weeks. Maybe. Ranpo doesn’t usually care about counting time. If it didn’t have to do with an investigation, why should he waste his energy on remembering the day of the week? He’d rather remember he needs to get more chips at the market. Or rather, that he needs to get someone else to get him chips. (He still doesn't like the train.) He’d rather put his energy into solving Poe’s books, than remembering what time it is.
He found lately, he has more space in his brain for a lot of other things. It wasn’t as useful as he thought it might be. Mostly, he’s just extremely bored. At first, he thought he only missed Poe’s tricky books (Not everyone can stump him for at least a few seconds) and maybe his company. But that was up for debate.
It only took 2 weeks for Ranpo to discard that theory. It wouldn’t have made sense to keep Poe around before- before if he only needed his stories. He was sure Poe would have been fine with that either way, as long as he made Ranpo happy.
That’s another thing: Poe really did care for him. It wasn’t like he didn’t believe him when he confessed, it's more like he hadn’t realised just how much his...infatuation was.
He knew because of the way Poe would spend days writing books for him. The way Ranpo didn’t have to utter more than one word before Poe would pay for his meals, and buy him all his favourites. The way that even though he's protective over Karl, he’s never been worried about it with Ranpo. The way he smiled at Ranpo, and no one else.
It’s a bunch of things really, a bunch of tiny things that Ranpo should have caught. Some detective he is, he can’t even tell when someone likes him.
He didn’t like human feelings. He didn’t like when people cry, or jump in joy. He didn’t like when Fukazawa was poisoned and he’d been so worried . Feelings made him weak, they made everyone weak. They were why people stole: greed, need, hopelessness. They were why people murdered: Lust, jealousy, anger, love. They were dangerous. Ranpo couldn’t help that he had them, as much as he’d like to pretend otherwise. He can’t separate himself from others. He can’t say his front is all he has, that there's nothing underneath his mischievous, happy behaviour. Poe had shown him otherwise.
He’d made him feel. As gross, and unwanted as that is. But it happened, and he liked it, and now it's gone. Because Poe left him. Now he has to sit in this stuffy office, with scattered paperwork, and suffer the tragic phenomenon that is boredom- when usually Poe would just stop by and solve all his problems.
He didn’t think that by confessing, Poe would just leave. He might have needed a few days to lick his wounds, and get over his wounded pride. If Poe had really cared for him so deeply, wouldn’t he still want to be friends? Wasn’t their friendship worth keeping, even if he wasn't sure about loving somebody? Loving somebody like Poe, nevertheless. That was riskier. Because Poe mattered. More than others. Because he was his friend-
But friend is what Fukazawa is, perhaps. Friend is what the agency means to him. And Poe means more. More than this stingy office, and stingy kunikida, who won’t leave him alone- No he doesn’t want to do his paperwork- He’s Ranpo. He's needed for much bigger, and more important things. And there's that too-
Poe means more than being a detective. More than ultra- deduction. And didn’t that take him a long time to figure out. Forever to admit it to himself, but maybe not so long to happen. Maybe it was always like that. Maybe it just happened right now.
Everything feels like a maybe, lately. (That rhymes, Poe would have thought it was funny.) Everything is new, and weird, and Ranpo is out of his element. He’d never liked being unsure about things. He didn’t like not having control. But it wasn’t so much annoying right now as it was...exciting.
What does that mean? What does any of this mean?
Ranpo is a detective. He solves cases, and he solves them fast and efficiently. He’s smart, and he thinks things through. He doesn’t care for trivial things such as family, paperwork, trains or…love. He thinks about cases, murders, and the agency- and Poe.
Poe, who he cares for.
Ranpo is a detective, but he’s also in love with Poe.
Maybe it’s okay to be both.
He’s tired of maybe. Ranpo is one who took action. He didn’t doubt, or hesitate. He was blunt, precise, quick, and impatient.
He’s also in love.
--
It was a week later that Ranpo decided enough was enough. He hadn’t been hesitating, no. He didn’t hesitate. He was just thinking. He had a lot to think about, afterall.
He found himself at Poe’s doorstep, his fist rapping against the wood. Now would be the perfect time to say something positive. To say ‘Everything’s going to be fine’ or ‘this is new and maybe a little scary but a lot exciting, but it’s fine because Ranpo’s in love, and he won’t ruin this’ and then keep knocking some more, maybe he’ll have to knock on wood for the rest of his life- just so he can keep this good thing.
Ranpo’s a lucky guy, but everybody's luck runs out at some point.
Before he can debate the practicalness of carrying a plank of wood with him everywhere, Poe opens the door. His lock is still in place and it causes the door to jerk to a stop when his eye is visible. Or, where his eye would be, if it wasn’t covered with hair.
Poe’s eyes widen, by the way his hair shifts up slightly, and he immediately unlocks the door all the way, stepping back.
“Ranpo,” he started, standing awkwardly with his hands moving in the air like he’s trying to swim on land- or something.
Ranpo took pity on him, “I’m not here to fight, or anything like that.” He tilted his head, “Why would you open the door if you thought I had bad intentions?”
He knows why, of course. It’s because Poe is Poe. Whose sweet, and dumb, and so gone for Ranpo.
That’s his favorite part, he thinks.
Ranpo breezed over Poe’s continued spluttering, “I have a buncha’ stuff to do-“ No. He didn’t. “So you should feel pretty lucky that I’m here.”
…that’s not what he wanted to say.
Poe’s hands fell to his side, and he stood there, hair a mess. Ranpo wondered why he didn’t notice before, but Poe’s kinda cute.
“Yes, I am. I do, I mean. Um, w-why are you here, Ranpo?”
Ranpo opened his eyes, ignoring Poe’s stuttered inhale. “I thought you told me I was always welcome? Do you have a concussion?”
“No! No, I’m fine. I- remember.”
Ranpo always knows what to say.
He stalled by humming, and stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You love me.”
Poe squeaked.
“You're not the first, of course.” Ranpo should have written this down.
“Ran-“
“But- I don’t do that. I'm a detective, and human feelings are fragile things-”
“Ranp-”
“I’m also human though. And I want to take you on a date.”
Poe stops. And Ranpo briefly worried he'd broken him. He watched in bemusement as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish.
“Well? Are you going to say no? Because if so then I’ve already wasted enough time-”
“No! Wait- no, I mean yes! Yes! Yes?”
Ranpo squinted his eyes, “Yes?”
“Yes. I think.”
“You think?”
“I just- you…want to take me on a d-date. Romantically?”
Ranpo frowned, “Aren’t those what dates are?”
“Mostly, but you’re- you.”
“I would hope so.”
Poe ignores him. “And I’m me.”
“I would definitely hope so. That’s sorta- the whole point.” Ranpo was starting to really worry about Poe's head. He’s probably delirious, from neglecting food and water. Poe doesn't necessarily have the best coping mechanisms when faced with tragedy.
He almost misses Poe’s softly spoken words. “Why would you want me?”
Ranpo shrugged, “I don't know, I just do. Why do you love me?”
“Because you’re you,” He responded easily.
“Exactly,” Poe nodded encouragingly, “Do you get it now?”
Poe looked a little broken, and a lot fragile. And Ranpo loved him, so he crossed the space between them, and didn't waste any more time, grabbing his face between his hands. He didn’t think this through enough. He didn’t know what happened after this point. He just stood there, tapping his fingers against Poe’s cheek in what he hoped was concealed anxiety.
“You're you. I like you. If you weren’t you, then I wouldn’t bother. I’d have to find another you. Or someone like you. No- I’d probably just stay single forever!”
Poe gasped, “Ranpo! Don’t say that!”
“Why not? It’s true so why not say it? Should I lie?” Ranpo was still holding his face, and he decided he’d very much like to see Poe’s eyes. He used his hand to move the pesky hair out of the way. Poe’s eyes widened until it looked like they’re about to fall right out of his head. Ranpo hoped not. Poe’s eyes were fascinating.
“Well…you might regret it later,” Poe confessed, averting his eyes to the side of Ranpo’s face.
Ranpo clicked his tongue, “Can you see the future? Do you have another ability you never told me about?”
“No-“
“Then don’t tell me what I’m gonna do or not do. And stop doubting me too! I’m smart aren't I? I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t plan to stay.”
Ranpo is getting tired of holding Poe’s face when he wants to be doing something else. Like…
“Okay.” Poe finally said.
“Good.”
And then no more words are spoken between them. Instead, Ranpo slid his hand into Poe’s hair and- oh it’s soft- finally kissed him.
Ah. That’s what he wanted to do.
It’s perfect, and also not perfect, because Ranpo has absolutely no experience, and by the way their teeth clack and the awkward position, neither does Poe. But they're Ranpo and Poe, one in the same, and eventually find each other's rhythm- and then it’s perfect.
Maybe even better than being a detective.
No. It’s definitely better.
It’s exciting .