Work Text:
Poe watches as Ranpo reads his latest work, he seemed to nod along with it as he reads it approving of its mysterious tone and plot.
Ranpo finished it smiling “Well I must say I did figure out the killer in the middle but it’s improved from me finding out in the beginning!” Poe smiled nodding.
“Thank you! I wanted to go for something a bit different then use-“ Poe was cut off by Kunikida as he stormed into the room, “Ranpo I told you to stop inviting him over and do your work!”
Ranpo sighs “But I don’t wannaaaa, work is boring and Poe is fun!” Kunikida shakes his head grabbing Ranpo before turning to Poe “Don’t come back unless he’s finished with his work” he says dragging Ranpo out of the room as the smaller detective whines.
The door was shut leaving Poe alone. He grips his recent manuscript a little harder as he stands up. Karl climbs up jumping onto his shoulder as he exits the building.
Poe mutters to himself as he gets into his car “Am I holding Ranpo back? We are still rivals I suppose but… god I knew this was a bad idea”
It wasn’t unknown to others that Poe is actually quite sensitive and nervous. Ranpo always brought out that side of him that could talk happily for hours and not tell him once to stop.
He overthinks and when he overthinks he gets emotional and when he gets emotional he can’t think straight and when he can’t think straight he does irrational things.
When he was younger whenever he let his emotions take control of him he often lost a friend or two. He has said some things that he will never be able to take back.
He arrives to his house running inside, tossing his manuscript somewhere on the floor as he heads upstairs to dramatically collapse onto his bed.
Goddamnit… was he that bad? Was he holding his rival back from his life? Did he overstay his welcome? Goddamnit humans are so difficult. He tries to take into account their emotions often, did he forget this time?
Poe tries to calm his breathing. He was not going to have a meltdown over something a coworker of Ranpo’s said, that would just be straight up pathetic.
Writing.
Writing calms him down.
He needs to write something.
He needs to get his emotions on paper before they overflow outside of him like a broken dam.
Poe jumps off the bed getting to his writing station as he picks up the brush the words seemed to Stream out of his thoughts onto the paper perfectly.
You are not the sun. You are the gorgeous stretch of sky, the sun gives light however you show its beauty. The stars shine upon you the cloud fluff floats across you.
You are seen every day, your beauty is unmatched. Everyone adores you, the sun and moon greet you every dawn and dusk, The stars dance around you and you play around with the winds to push the clouds around.
I am not the moon. I am the rolling Hills and tall mountains, I am where the beach’s meet the sea and where The Himalayas say hello to the clouds. I am the land.
I am needed yet I can be easily replaced. People take from me and they never give back the same, I am blamed for the change of seasons and I am the reason many separate and go to war.
You are the beautiful and mysterious sky everyone wants to be with you. I am the land they wish to leave and abandon because of the problems they created.
I love you I want to meet you I want to say hello like a stars, sun, and moon. I wish I could help you I wish I really could but it is my land that continues to pollute and darken your skies.
I wish I could leave I wish I could fix this I really wish I could be more useful to you. However I know that cannot be and I cannot do anything but wait for my eventual demise…
Poe puts down his brush. He smiled to himself slightly, he felt much better.
Admittedly he does not write poetry as often as he writes his stories and novels. However it’s refreshing to have such a poetic meaning.
Writing was a piece of the soul. It should reflect your feelings your thoughts and be able to have someone read it and feel what you felt.
He always loved that about writing, He didn’t need to talk he didn’t need to convey his feelings through words spoken to another he could just write it down as a story. Having the other person read it and understand what he feels was a level of trust he gained with the dear detective.
He stands up taking off his clothes and changing into PJs. Tonight he was going to get an early rest and tomorrow morning he will think far more clearly.
Poe puts the poetry into his nightstand. He was simply going to look over it in the morning before putting it with the rest of his writings that he will never show the world.
He lays down on his mattress, pulling the blankets up and over him with Karl beside his head. He thinks about showing the poetry to Ranpo, however knowing his detective skills he will pick up what he feels and he doesn’t want to ruin his chance at a girlfriend.
He was about to drift off when his door bell starts aggressively ringing over and over again. He jumps up sliding on his slippers and grabbing a bathrobe as he heads down.
He looks out the peep whole seeing nobody. He reaches for the handle slowly creeping it open as his heart beats faster. The writer briefly thinks about every single horror movie and book he has ever seen.
Ranpo was sitting at the step smiling “I’m back~!” The detective says running inside “I’m really sorry about Kunikida, I think he’s still mad about Dazai dating a port mafia member. I hope you don’t mind but I’m gonna need to borrow some of your pajamas tonight!”
Poe nodded “Uhh, yeah sure just go upstairs and take your pick, are you sure you want to stay at my house tonight?”
Ranpo nodded “When I’m around you I feel far more comfortable and relaxed! From now on I’m finishing my work as early as possible so you can come over OK!”
The writer was touched, Ranpo wants him to stay? He’s willing to do his work just for him? He feels his eyes glaze over with tears that he refuses to shed around the detective.
Ranpo found one of his shirts, that was clearly seven sizes too big for him or something, and crawled into bed. Poe climbs in as well letting Ranpo cling onto him.
Gosh… he loved him.
He loves him so much it hurts to think about him with another.