Archive of Our Own

"- And then ten minutes later, he was exactly where I told them he would be!" Ranpo cackles, throwing back his head. His cap slips, but he doesn't bother adjusting it, seemingly uncaring that his hair is falling in his face. It's likely that he's forgotten he's wearing it. "You would think that by now, everyone would learn to universally accept my genius, but it seems that some stupid people are still thriving in this world. What do you think, Poe? Poe? Are you even listening to me?"

Poe startles, blinking himself back to reality. "What? Oh, of course I was listening."

Ranpo narrows his eyes, and if the look he shoots him doesn't make Poe gulp and shift away in his seat as if it might burn him. "What did I say, then?" he challenges, and Poe realizes he is fucked.

"Um," he says, bringing a hand up to fiddle with his necktie. "I'm - I'm sorry. I don't know where my head is at today."

That's not exactly true. Poe knows exactly where his mind is right now, but he'd frankly rather die than openly admit it.

The way Ranpo smirks, eyes still slit but now dancing with mirth, makes it seem like he knows anyway.

The two of them are in Ranpo's agency dorm room, and the reason for Poe's nerves is because despite the year they've known one another and the month or so that Poe has actually been with the agency, this is the first time he has been here. 

Usually, the two of them hang out either at the agency itself or at various cafes, most often the Cafe Uzumaki on the bottom floor of the agency building. Ranpo is an interesting person - he'll let slip the most private, personal information that often has Poe blushing and clutching his pearls, but is extremely private about his home life. He never tells Poe what he's doing outside of work unless he wants him to be a part of it. Anything he deigns not to tell Poe is a complete mystery to him.

But today, after their shift at the agency was over, Ranpo had looked Poe in the eye and told him they were going to his place, and that's where they are now.

The second they'd gotten in, Poe had noted the pale white walls in nearly every room, the hundreds of sticky notes attached to almost every surface and the scattered piles of books, mostly murder mystery novels filled with even more colourful pieces of paper. There are a few fluffy rugs placed along the wooden floors, piles of unwashed dishes in the sink, and some clothes stacked at the end of the couch that have yet to be put away. It's very homely. Every inch of it just screams Ranpo, every inch of it gives Poe just the smallest glimpse into the detective's mind.

He hadn't had much time to look at it all, however, because Ranpo had dragged him to the couch in front of the unlit TV and opened a new novel he'd bought the other day to promptly begin ranting about it.

One thing Poe is good at is listening. He's an introvert and tends to be very quiet, absorbing information instead of putting it out. So while Ranpo chatters away, switching from topic to topic faster than Poe's brain can keep up with, he listens. Nods and smiles whenever he needs to. Ranpo could never bore Poe, never in his life.

It seems that, despite this, he has still managed to zone out a little.

Ranpo is just visually fascinating to Poe. Of course, he's more than his beauty, far, far more. He isn't known as the greatest detective in Japan for nothing. His intellect far surpasses Poe's, sometimes leaving him a little lost in conversations, and his dry wit and perfectly constructed sentences give him an air of someone who's been public speaking since he was a child and has never ran off a stage crying like Poe remembers doing more than once in high school. He never runs out of ideas, of things to say or do, and he always knows exactly what he wants and will do it no matter the cost. He is extremely outspoken, sometimes to an embarrassing extent. Ranpo will never lie to someone about anything. If you want someone to evaluate, say, a piece of writing you're rather proud of, Ranpo is not the person you should go to if you're only looking for compliments.

But Poe is only human, and Ranpo Edogawa is the most gorgeous man he's ever met.

He wasn't that different eight years ago, when Ranpo was nineteen and Poe newly twenty one, and the detective had been a little bit less put together than he is today, skinnier and dressed like his eyes had been closed when he picked out his outfit for the day. It hadn't changed the way Poe's heart had picked up upon seeing him for the first time, because wow, was he stunning. It got worse when the man looked at him for the first time with those eyes that Poe could only describe as being like actual emeralds, an unnatural green peering out from a well sculpted, rosy cheeked face. He had captivated him instantly.

Ranpo has filled himself out a little more, now. He clearly eats more, even if most of his diet consists of sugary sweets that somehow never seem to marr his near perfect skin, and his clothes are a little more put together, most days. His hair is always glossy and well brushed, visibly well taken care of. Sometimes a pair of rectangular glasses are perched at the end of his slightly upturned nose, slipping down his face when he's thinking too hard to notice. Sometimes he nibbles on his bottom lip whenever he isn't talking, and it flushes red with blood.

That was what he had been doing prior to the rant he had just launched into, and that was why Poe had been staring at him and perhaps not listening nearly as much as he should have been, and that was what had gotten him caught.

"I think I know what's on your mind," Ranpo says slyly, and Poe's heart rate skyrockets so fast his vision briefly whites out with shock. The detective snorts at the way Poe coughs into his sleeve, trying to cover up the mini heart attack he'd just had before grabbing the older man's sleeve. "You're hungry, aren't you?"

Ah. Ok. Poe can work with that. "Well, I, ah," he stammers, trying to set his head straight. "I actually did eat earlier, so really, I -"

As if on cue, his stomach rumbles, and Poe sags in defeat. There is no point trying to hide anything from Ranpo.

"Snack time!" the detective shouts with delight, and yanks Poe to his feet. He barely gives him a moment to adjust to standing for the first time in an hour before dragging him into the kitchen, humming as he goes.

It's quite small, made even smaller by the sizable kitchen table that is surrounded by exactly two chairs and is covered in more books and miscellaneous pens. The tablecloth is wrinkled and stained with ink. Poe has to stifle a smile, because it just feels so correct. He has occasionally wondered what Ranpo's home looked like (not staying in an agency dorm himself), and despite never coming to any solid conclusion, he feels like this makes sense. He couldn't have expected anything else.

Ranpo throws open his fridge and fills the room with light, getting down on his knees to root through the piles of stuff he has in there while Poe watches. He usually takes every opportunity to admire Ranpo's features whenever he isn't looking, but he's just been caught doing that, so he keeps his eyes on the man's hands instead as they push aside egg cartons, leftover takeaway containers and bags of unopened fruit and vegetables that someone else most certainly bought in for him. Even Ranpo's hands are nice. He has long, slender fingers, tan and unscarred, with rough knuckles and soft palms. Ranpo is sometimes a very touchy person. Poe has felt those lovely hands slip into his without warnings more times than he can count, and he never fails to lose his mind every single time.

"Are you alright with blueberry pancakes?" Ranpo says eventually, turning around to meet Poe's eyes with the offending item in hand. "If I wanted to make an actual dinner it'd take time and effort and I really can't be bothered, so this is the best I've got."

Poe nods, leaning against the table behind him and fidgeting with the frilled ends of his sleeves. "I'm not picky, you know this. Do you not even have any frozen meals in for yourself? Perhaps that would be easier, and wouldn't take so much time to prepare."

Ranpo rolls his eyes as he straightens, stretching his arms over his end and arching his back like a cat. Poe deliberately avoids looking. "I usually do, but Akiko says eating ham spaghetti night after night isn't good for me and keeps trying to get me to "expand my horizons," whatever that means. She told me if I at least try and eat something different a few nights a week, she'll take me out for dinner on Friday. Like I'm a child that needs a reward in order to encourage me to do things… Well, it worked, so I'm trying it out. And I've already had spaghetti the last few nights."

"I see," Poe murmurs as Ranpo bustles about putting the pancakes on plates. As far as he's worked out, Yosano Akiko, the agency doctor, is something of a sister figure to Ranpo. They sometimes seem to communicate in a language no one else can understand, using only tweaks of the head and quirks of the eyebrow. It's endlessly frustrating, especially when Poe knows he is the topic of their silent conversation. "Well, what are you going to eat later, then? You are going to eat a proper dinner, right? Pancakes are suited more for breakfast than dinner, they're not very substantial."

Those catlike eyes fix themselves on him again, causing Poe to freeze. Then Ranpo's lips turn up in a lazy smile. "I was planning on just the pancakes," he drawls, clicking the microwave behind him shut without looking. "But I suppose if someone else was willing to prepare me something more filling, I wouldn't be opposed."

Poe sighs, crossing his arms across his chest.

That man knows just how to work him. Even as he's thinking this to himself, Ranpo is pushing off the counter where he's leaning and stepping just slightly closer, socked feet soft against the tile. Those warm hands come up to rest on Poe's, stilling his entire body in one motion. Poe swallows as Ranpo's chin lifts, making up for his much smaller stature with puppy dog eyes and pouted lips that he knows will crack the writer in seconds.

"Please, Ed?" he asks, and Poe's lungs empty out into the space between them.

"You know I would have offered anyway," he says, slightly breathless because no matter how many times Ranpo uses his nickname, he will never fail to take psychic damage from it. "There's really no need for the whole kicked puppy act, as much as I'm sure you enjoy the excuse to be dramatic."

Ranpo's childish pout turns into a wicked grin faster than Poe can blink. "You know me so well," he hums, and turns back to the microwave to set the timer up.

This gives Poe a moment to catch his breath, but not for long. Not even a second passes before he hears the sound of faint ringing. His hand automatically flies to his trouser pocket, searching for his phone before realizing it's not his that's making the sound. "I think that's your phone," he tells Ranpo, shifting on the spot. "Ringing, I mean, from the other room."

Ranpo seems completely unbothered. "Go grab it for me, Edgar, I need to find the syrup. And the brown sugar… I think I lent some to Junichiro a while back, but it wasn't a whole bag, was it? I'm certain it would be in this cupboard if anywhere…"

He's talking only to himself, now, something he does more often than Poe would like. So he sighs and slips out of the kitchen, heading back into the living room to search for Ranpo's phone. It's not a long journey - the item in question is on the couch, sliding into the cushions next to Ranpo's hat where he'd thrown it before getting up. The screen is lit up with the incoming call, and the sight of it makes Poe's chest tighten. AIDEN, it reads, a blank default photo flashing underneath his name.

There are several reasons why Poe has not yet asked Ranpo out yet. One of the main ones is that the chances of being rejected are extremely high, and in Poe's most dramatic moments he thinks he'd have to take Dazai up on a double suicide if Ranpo was ever to stop talking to him. It's something he wouldn't risk for the world. A few of the other reasons are rather basic - he's insecure, he doesn't know how to do it, he can never seem to find a moment perfect enough, he's only good with written word and very much not the spoken kind, ect.

The other big reason, however, is that throughout the duration of what Poe supposes can be called their friendship, Ranpo is often romantically occupied with other men.

In the time Poe has been out of the Guild and in the agency, he has seen Ranpo go through eleven different guys, and those are only the ones he's public about. There have definitely been others that didn't get to stick around long enough for Poe to learn their names or, God forbid, have to meet them. That is always the worst part of these unfortunate situations to Poe. When Ranpo walks into Cafe Uzumaki with a new man hanging off his arm and introduces him like he can't see the way it practically crushes Poe. However, he's always managed to keep his cool about it. To this day, he's always been civil with Ranpo's boyfriends, and they're usually kind in return, because of course Ranpo knows where to find the limited supply of men in the world that are both good looking and good hearted, too.

Poe once asked Ranpo tentatively why he always broke up with his various partners who seemed nothing but nice when he'd met them, and Ranpo had openly asked Poe if he thought he was a slut.

"Wh- No," Poe had stammered, mortified as his hands flew to his face. "That's a terrible word, I'd never say such a thing. I merely wondered - I mean, they seem so nice and you seem so happy with them, and then they disappear from your life a few weeks later. I know it's not my business, I was just - I apologize. I promise I never meant to insinuate anything of the sort."

Ranpo took pity on him then, laughing and waving the comment off dismissively. "I don't mind at all," he told him, shrugging. "I would argue that it's really the perfect word for me. Slut, whore, harlot, whatever you wish. Why, Edgar - you're blushing. Is such language too much for your innocent little mind?"

Poe would have argued that his mind was anything but, especially at that exact moment, but then Ranpo leaned forwards to whisper in his ear with a playful smile dancing on his lips and he goes completely silent, prepared to listen to whatever the detective is about to say. Ranpo chuckles, well aware of how spellbound Poe is, and speaks.

"I break up with them," he murmured slowly, "because they're too boring for me. They don't understand me, Edgar, not like you do. Not a single one of them."

He'd pulled away with a deliberate smirk and went to work popping open a bag of konpeito under the desk as if nothing had happened.

"And the sex is never good enough to justify sticking around," he'd continued casually, and Poe had to bend over double to avoid coughing his lungs out while Ranpo innocently informed Kunikida that everything was alright and Poe was not going to die on their office floor, which he definitely would have argued against if he'd been able to speak.

Aiden is Ranpo's most recent conquest. The moment Poe had met him was enough to tell him that this relationship would be no different from all the others. Ranpo would date him for a month at the absolute maximum, and then he would be gone, soon to be replaced by another pretty face for Poe to secretly despise only for the fact that they got to be held in Ranpo's arms even if only for a short while and Poe could not be.

That was a month and a week ago. Aiden, a tall, muscular brunette who wore leather jackets and tight black jeans, had officially beaten Ranpo's longest boyfriend streak and stuck around far longer than any other man he'd been with. What's more, Ranpo didn't seem intent on keeping him secret from the others at the agency. The man had shown up not once, not twice, but three times in the last two weeks to pick Ranpo up from work and whisk him away, leaving Poe to walk home on his own in silence.

"Poor guy," Yosano had said to him the last time this had happened, patting his shoulder sympathetically. He had yelped at the unexpected touch, causing her to laugh harshly. "Aww, Atsushi, walk him home, will you? The little lamb is lost without Ranpo, it'd be a shame to leave him alone."

The walk back to his home with Atsushi had been an awkward one, given how obviously Poe had been stewing the entire time, but they both got through it and managed to exchange polite goodbyes at the end.

The thing is - Poe wants to date Ranpo. Very, very much. It had taken a good amount of time for him to come to terms with this, to come to terms with holding romantic affection for a man at all, given his upbringing in a community that wasn't too keen on such things. But it seemed like the moment Poe had finally understood and accepted the fact for what it was, Ranpo had thrown himself into dating, into sleeping around and never being available for more than a few days at a time if he could help it. So even if he was to gather his courage and try to tell Ranpo how he felt, there is never any opportunity to do so. Which is infinitely annoying, because Poe is twenty nine years old, for God's sake, he's turning thirty in less than a year and still is relegated to acting like a schoolboy with a silly, teenage crush.

Ranpo has that effect on him. He seems to have that effect on every man he comes across, actually. Poe's seen people practically thrown themselves at his feet for a crumb of his attention, which makes Poe feel a little better about himself at the very least, because he's not the only one that this man makes entirely crazy on the regular. However, it does spark the question of why all these men want him so badly when it seems they barely know him - something Poe blushes to think about, because if it's not Ranpo's mind they're after, it must be something else.

Not that Poe isn't all too aware of Ranpo's various sexual exploits. The detective seems to love torturing him with the gruesome details of his various altercations, if only to make him go red as a tomato and beg him to talk about literally anything else.

The phone continues to ring, the vibrations bouncing it back and forth on the couch and bringing it dangerously close to falling off.

"Edgar?" Ranpo calls from the other room, snapping Poe out of his thoughts. "Did you find it? Hurry up, the pancakes are nearly done!"

Absently, Poe finds amusement in the way Ranpo describes the pancakes being nearly done as if he'd made them from scratch instead of simply sticking them in the microwave and grabs the device off the couch.

Ranpo is standing on a chair when Poe returns to the kitchen, going for a bag of brown sugar off the top shelf. He shoots Poe a lazy grin, probably noticing the way the writer stiffens at how close Ranpo is getting to tipping over. "Who's calling?" he asks, grabbing the bag in one hand and finally descending back onto the ground again. "Anyone exciting?"

"Aiden," Poe informs him, trying to keep his tone level. He holds the phone out to Ranpo.

The detective, to Poe's surprise, wrinkles his nose. "Deny that call, will you, Edgar?" he says, kicking the chair vaguely back into place and darting out the room with his hands held out in front of him. "My hands are sticky, I'll be back in a sec!"

Poe's curiosity is certainly piqued, now, but he does what Ranpo says with perhaps a little too much vigor. The microwave beeps shrilly and Poe clicks it open if only to make the noise stop. The pancakes smell wonderful. He picks the plate out the microwave, wincing at the heat on the glass, and sets it down on the counter just as he hears Ranpo return with a beaming grin.

"Syrup time," he sings, yanking a second plate out of a cupboard so he can split the pancakes for them both. He doesn't need to ask Poe what he wants, because he's a damn mind reader and knows he's not as into sweet stuff as Ranpo and will only take a sprinkling of the sugar. Poe watches silently as Ranpo slides over the plate, a plastic orange one, and returns to the living room to sit back on the couch. Poe only spares a glance at the neglected kitchen table before grabbing two forks and following him, because he knows he's expected to.

Ranpo switches on the TV, seemingly already tuning Poe out as he absorbs himself in the cop show that's currently on. Poe sits down next to him, perched at the very edge of his seat. Between them, Ranpo's phone rings again with the same number.

The detective doesn't pay it an ounce of attention.

"Decent enough pancakes," he says with a satisfied nod, once again acting as if they aren't store bought. "Ed-gar, how would you feel about going to grab me the syrup? I didn't put enough on and I'm starting to feel my tongue again."

Poe frowns. "But I just sat down…"

He's unsurprised when Ranpo faces him and brings out the signature wide eyes and pout. "Please, Edgar," he whines, tilting his head so he's peering at Poe through his lashes. "Ple-ase would you -"

"Your phone is ringing again," Poe interrupts.

Ranpo's face smooths itself out. He turns back to the TV and shovels more pancake in his mouth, already having forgotten about his request for more syrup.

The phone silences itself, and then begins ringing again before even five seconds have passed.

"Oh my god," Ranpo shouts suddenly, and Poe jumps when he grabs the device off the couch and slides his thumb across the screen to accept the call.

Poe stares at his pancakes. Unfortunately, this is not the first time Poe has experienced something that he is certain will be terribly awkward due to Ranpo's rather callous behaviour. A few months ago, one of his boyfriends had come to the agency to beg for forgiveness - for what, Poe didn't know, and he was too scared to join in with Dazai, Yosano and Naomi in the rest of the agency gossip. Ranpo had been very brutal with his rejection. Poor Kunikida had to be the one to send the man on his way, and Poe had been sitting at Ranpo's desk like an idiot the entire time, unsure of whether he should go back to his own desk or if it was too late to try and save himself. Dazai had sure thought it was funny. Poe very much had not.

This feels like it's going to be a little less public repeat of the same event.

"Aiden," Ranpo says sweetly into the phone. He doesn't seem to care that Poe can hear every word. "I told you not to call me anymore. Didn't you delete my number like I asked?"

"Well, I - I did, but -" comes a voice from the other end of the line, and Poe's eyes bulge with horror as he realizes he's on speaker. "I wanted to see if there was anything I could do - to win you back. I really missed you, Ranpo -"

Ranpo yawns loudly, dragging it on for far longer than necessary before smacking his lips and smiling like Aiden can hear him.

"You're boring me," he says flatly. "Man up and quit acting like a child, it's not attractive. Bye."

"Wait -" Aiden tries.

The phone clicks.

Poe grimaces. "Um," he says, trying to return the mood to how it was prior. "Do you… still want syrup?"

He blinks in surprise when this makes Ranpo laugh, his stomach stirring with warmth.

"That's ok," Ranpo says, sinking back into the couch. His smile looks strange, like it's been painted on. "I'm not hungry."

He drops his plate to the floor.

Now this is enough to stir a little bit of panic in Poe's heart, but he tries not to show it, even if Ranpo probably knows regardless, like he knows everything else about him. "Ranpo Edogawa, not hungry?" he jokes, clinging to his own plate with both hands. "The world must be ending."

On screen, the cops are infiltrating some building, firing bullets and shouting loudly. Instead of replying to Poe, Ranpo stares at it, lips still stretched weirdly even when there is no smile in his eyes.

Poe stares at him, considering.

"Ranpo," he says softly. He receives no acknowledgement.

He reaches out and takes Ranpo's hand, where it's limp in his lap.

At least this causes Ranpo to stir. He stares at their interlocking fingers, Poe's pale and stubby with chewed up nails, his own long and thin and well-kept. Poe keeps his eyes on his friend's face, watching for a sign, for something.

"Are you… alright?" he asks, very softly.

Ranpo lets out a deep sigh.

"How sweet it is that you're asking," he replies in a teasing voice. He's still not looking directly at him. "Frankly, Edgar, I'm irritated. Irritated at everything." He smacks his free hand against his knee with every word. "I give dumb men a chance to prove themselves to be interesting and not one of them can cut it. None of them have a thing to offer me. I even give some of them do-overs, and yet."

He groans loudly. "Why are there no decent men left in the world, Edgar?"

Poe picks at his pancakes until he realizes Ranpo actually wants an answer and swallows. "Ah… I'm not sure. I haven't dated… in a while. So I wouldn't know."

Emerald eyes fix on his. "You do like men, though, Edgar?"

An unexpected question. Ranpo talks about his love life enough for the both of them, so he's never asked something like this before. "Yes," Poe admits. He never asks how Ranpo knows these things, and he doesn't mind that he does, either. If Poe had something he really didn't want Ranpo to stick his nose into, then he knows he wouldn't. It's an unspoken rule between the two of them. "I'm simply not interested in anything like that right now."

The detective hums. "No one at all?"

Poe swallows.

"Why do you ask?" he wonders aloud. "You've never wanted to know before."

Ranpo says nothing, just stares intently, like he's waiting for something.

It makes Poe feel strange, deep in his stomach. Of course, he'd love for this to be some kind of hint, but he doubts it is. Ranpo flirts with Poe all the time, the same way he does to every other man that catches his interest. Sometimes Poe considers asking him to stop, just because it stings a little bit, knowing it's not genuine - but most of the time, he tries not to mind.

Poe has never been jealous of the men that Ranpo has one night stands with, because even if they get to hold and kiss Ranpo the way Poe would love to, they aren't good enough to hold his attention for long. It makes him a little prideful, knowing he is interesting enough for the detective. Even if Poe doesn't get to do anything more than hold his hand every once in a while. He's ok with that.

Eventually, Ranpo breaks the eye contact and smirks. "Just curious."

Usually Poe doesn't ask questions like this, but right now, he has one that he needs to voice. "Ranpo, did - did something bad go wrong with you and Aiden?"

The phone continues to sit between them like a barrier.

However, Ranpo only shrugs. "He was just stupid and annoying. He didn't hurt me, of course, I'd never let him, but he didn't respect me, either. I'm not an idiot. That's not the only reason I broke up with him, though."

He tilts his head back, revealing his neck as his collar rides up. There are usually marks there, but not as of late. "I'm swearing off dating losers for now," he says, and Poe's breath hitches. "I've got my eye on someone in particular, and I've decided not to mess around anymore until I can catch his attention."

It's not a huge surprise, that Ranpo is already moving on, but it still sends that familiar twinge of jealousy into Poe's lungs.

"Oh," Poe says. "Alright."

Ranpo breathes out a laugh through his nose. "Aww, Edgar, you look almost disappointed."

"Of course not," Poe snaps, anxiety rising in his chest. He's sure Ranpo must know about his attraction to him, and it's fine if he doesn't reciprocate, but having it made fun of crosses a line. "Your dating life has nothing to do with me."

The detective looks a little surprised at Poe's minor outburst, a reaction that usually pleases him to see given Ranpo's status as someone who knows everything and therefore almost never feels the emotion. He doesn't care much right now. Poe does not like being mocked.

However, Ranpo snaps back to his ordinary behaviour almost immediately, pulling his knees to his chest and letting them loose at his sides. His jaw unhinges in a huge yawn, clearly exaggerated to make Poe laugh and lighten the mood. And Poe does find his lips turning up at the corners at the sight, as much as he wants to stay annoyed.

"Don't you want to ask more?" Ranpo suddenly says, after a silent pause. "About this new person I'm interested in?"

Poe looks at him, puzzled. "Should I?"

Ranpo's eyes flicker in his direction. "Do you want to?"

Not particularly.

"I know," Ranpo suddenly says, and his irises practically glow with how his face lights up. "Poe, play Twenty Questions with me. You love Twenty Questions."

"I don't, actually," Poe retorts wearily, "not when I'm playing with you, because when you're asking the questions, you always guess whatever I'm thinking in three or less, and when I'm asking, you forget that I'm not exactly on an equal intellectual level to you and tell me the most ridiculous things. Like when the answer was "Karl," and I asked if the person you were thinking of was a raccoon, and you said no because Karl is a Guadeloupe raccoon and I was not being specific enough, apparently."

Ranpo ignores all of this. He sits bolt upright, folding his legs into a basket and looking at Poe with a delighted expression. "That's settled, then," he says gleefully, like Poe had said something entirely different to his ears. "Start asking me questions."

Poe is certainly confused, now, because how is he supposed to ask questions when he - A realization hits him. "Ranpo, is it someone I know?"

"Yes," Ranpo says, eyes thinning with his mischievous smile. "That's one question. You know what, this round ought to be easy for you, given how many people just the first question cut it down to, so I'll give you ten questions instead."

He wants to protest because Poe knowing the person doesn't cut it down that much, but… it does, actually. Poe does not get out much. He sags in defeat. "Alright, whatever…" he mutters, reaching up to push his hair off his face so he can think better, no distractions. "Do I get a prize for winning? Usually you do prizes because you always win and have me buy you sweets." As if Poe doesn't do that anyway on a regular basis, just to see Ranpo's face light up with warmth.

"Hmmm." Ranpo seems to be really considering, rocking himself back and forth and tapping at his chin. "Alright, I have a prize in mind. I'll only give you it if you win, though, so don't screw up."

Poe groans. "But I never win against you… oh, alright."

He chews on his lip, wishing he knew where Karl was. The animal had abandoned him in the garbage outside, claiming he was going for a nap. Poe does not look forward to bathing him later. "This might be a silly one, but it won't hurt to make sure," he starts off. "It is a man, right?"

Ranpo snorts. "Yes, Poe. I'm gay."

Poe feels his face heat up. "Well, you've never discussed something like that with me," he says defensively. "You could have been bisexual with a preference for men, it's impolite to assume. I'm simply covering all my bases."

The detective titters, but nods anyway. "Fair enough," he says dismissively. "Keep going."

Two questions in, and already Poe just wants to give up. However, he struggles on. "Is it Mushitarou?"

This makes Ranpo laugh, teeth bared. "Hell no. The most romantic thing I've seen him do is mope about his dead boyfriend, although I do admire your confidence. Try again."

Poe huffs, feeling silly. "Is he a detective, then?" Most of the people he knows are detectives, given his current occupation.

The other man hums, seemingly content to take his time answering, even picking up the TV remote and flicking through a few channels before deciding on a new one to watch. Poe doesn't even give it a glance, fixated on Ranpo and mildly annoyed that he might be being played for a fool right now.

"Yes," Ranpo says, once he's decided everything in their surroundings is up to his standards.

This gives Poe pause, and he turns an answer over in his mind, getting the sense it might get him laughed at. "It's not Minoura, is it?" he asks tentatively, wincing slightly.

"Nope," Ranpo replies, popping the "p". He sends a cheeky look in Poe's direction. "But I'd let him have me for a night if he wanted, you know -"

Poe buries his face in his palms while Ranpo laughs. "Don't ever say things like that to me about people we know!" Poe cries, cheeks alight. "Dear God! No wonder he doesn't enjoy working with you!"

"It's because he's scared of how good I look while I do his job better than him," Ranpo counters easily. He leans back further with his arms crossed behind his head. "Go again. You've got five guesses left."

Ah, crap, he hadn't been keeping track. It's a good thing he has an idea that will certainly narrow it down. "Is he an ability user?" Poe questions, and Ranpo's eyes flash with mirth.

"Yes," he says simply, and Poe swallows, because that means this has to be someone he knows well, given how few ability users Poe knows. However, his mind comes up a blank at each question he thinks to ask, because he doesn't even have anyone he suspects could be the one, apart from… shit, is he really going to ask this? 

"Is it Dazai?" he wonders, grimacing.

Ranpo pauses before answering this one, too, because he's evil. "No."

Poe waits for a suggestive comment to be tacked onto the end, but gets nothing. Ranpo notices his expectant look and shrugs. "Dazai has a partner already," he tells him. "I respect that."

This makes Poe wonder who exactly would be willing to date someone as interesting as Dazai, but he figures that's a conversation for another time. "Alright," he mutters, trying to think. "It's… someone in the agency, then?"

He's expecting a no, because there's no one else within the agency that it could possibly be, unless it's… Kunikida? 

Definitely not, right, unless -

"It is," Ranpo answers, and suddenly his face has smoothed into complete neutrality, like he isn't most certainly getting a kick out of watching the gears in Poe's brain turn and splutter to a stop as he slowly realizes.

"Would he happen to be a writer?" Poe asks, quietly, and Ranpo's lips lift at the corners like he's just been handed a large bag of his favourite candy.

"Would you believe me if I said the answer was yes?" he says in reply.

Poe might pass out, in all honestly.

Ranpo suddenly shifts closer, actually facing him now instead of the TV, staring at him and him alone like he's the only thing in the room. "One more question," he says, casually. "Do you wish to submit a final guess, or give up?"

He knows damn well that Poe is not giving up now, not when he's so close to hearing the thing he's secretly wanted to hear for eight years now, since the day he swore revenge after Ranpo beat him for the first time.

Poe looks away, suddenly a little embarrassed, and hesitantly points to himself.

Ranpo cocks his head, giving away nothing. "A verbal answer, if you please."

He's really going to make him say it - oh, Ranpo Edogawa is an evil, evil man, Poe thinks, even as he gathers the courage to speak the words out loud.

"Me," he murmurs. "I think. It's me."

Without warning, Ranpo pumps both his fists in the air, shouting gleefully. "Yes!" he cries, grinning wide. "Edgar, you are officially the first person ever to have won a game of Twenty Questions against me!"

He's so shocked that it takes him far too long to reply, and when he does, it's not exactly a celebration. "I don't," he starts, and then swallows and starts again. "I'm afraid to admit I don't understand."

Ranpo stops celebrating and looks at him like he's stupid. "Edgar, what on Earth are you not understanding?"

Everything is starting to overwhelm Poe a little, that sickening feeling that he's definitely being made fun of seeping back into his stomach. "Do you actually mean it?" he demands, wringing his hands together. Poe has never been good at hiding how he feels. He knows his distress is obvious on his face. "That you're romantically interested in me? If this is a prank, Ranpo, it's a very cruel one and I won't have a part in it. It's awful to mess with a person's emotions like that."

The other man has completely sobered now, face blank and blinking softly in obvious confusion. "Poe," he murmurs. "You don't think I'd say something like that and not mean it, do you?"

"You've played very mean pranks in the past," Poe mumbles. "Like that time you tried convincing me that Karl had gotten into your chocolate stash and exploded."

Ranpo laughs softly, then clears his throat and frowns again. "I didn't think you'd believe something like that, to be fair."

"I can be terribly gullible," Poe admits, feeling like a bit of an idiot.

Then Ranpo shuffles forward, until his knees meet the side of Poe's thigh and their faces are inches apart. "Ed," Ranpo says seriously, the nickname once again making Poe's heart jump. "I mean it. Of course I mean it. Even if I sometimes - misjudge what other people might think is funny or not, I would never tell you I'm into you as a joke."

Poe freezes when the detective gets close, almost terrified to move. He doesn't look directly at him, but his body is starting to feel lighter as he realizes that maybe this is real and not some prank, that he's not being played for a fool after all. "Oh, so you'd tell me my pet is dead as a joke, but not that you're attracted to me?" he says, feeling his lips twitch in a smile. "Is that where you draw the line?"

"I told you he exploded," Ranpo argues, but he's smiling too, now, the brief tension between them dissipating. "From eating chocolate. Animals don't do that, Edgar. And I didn't think you'd cry over it."

"Karl is my best friend!" Poe says loudly, hiding a grin behind his hand. "It was very mean of you! I was afraid to let Karl out of my sight for weeks!"

Then they both go silent, looking at each other, unsure of how to proceed.

Before they do, however, Poe has a question he needs to understand. 

"Ranpo," he begins, quietly. "Did you… did you know how I felt about you?"

Ranpo doesn't look like he wants to answer, suddenly. Something like shame flickers across his face.

"I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable," he says with a shrug. "But you never asked me out."

Poe nearly laughs at that. "Because you were always dating other people," he says, looking down at their legs, still pressed together. "I thought you knew the whole time but never said anything to spare my feelings."

Ranpo's eyes shift, staring somewhere away from Poe's face. He's still smiling softly. "I wasn't sure about how I felt, you see," he says, in a tone more suited to his explanations as to how he figured out who a murder mystery killer was than this. "It took me some time to realize that I preferred spending time with you than with those other men because no matter what they would promise me, you're more fun and interesting than any one of them."

It gives Poe pause - the thought that Ranpo maybe didn't know everything, that he hadn't originally realized he was attracted to him. It also makes him feel a little better about the situation. Knowing that Ranpo hadn't been making fun of him, all that time he'd spent talking about his various partners.

"Besides," Ranpo continues. "You won at Twenty Questions."

Poe snickers, unsure of where to put his hands and tugging at his sleeves. "Twenty Questions isn't that difficult. We ought to play chess instead."

"I would smoke you," Ranpo says, without a moment of hesitation. "Only Dazai could ever beat me at chess. I'm just too good at it."

A silence falls over them again, not necessarily a bad one, more comfortable than before. But there is still the weight of the new knowledge that was shared between the two of them, and an uncertainty as to how to continue.

Ranpo clears his throat, tilting his chin up slightly. "Well, I did promise you a prize. Would you like to know what I had in mind?"

Poe opens his mouth, then closes it. He's a little afraid to hear the answer, afraid to make assumptions despite everything Ranpo's just admitted to him. However. "I would."

"Can I kiss you?" Ranpo asks. His eyes are wide and bright, as beautiful as the day he met him.

Blunt as usual. Poe shouldn't have expected anything else.

His heart is still racing like wild, regardless.

"Edgar?" Ranpo tries again, when he doesn't receive anything but a stunned silence. "You can say no."

The man's smirk proves that he doesn't really believe he will. And he's right. Poe isn't planning to.

"Yes," Poe says, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "Yes. You can - kiss me. Just be warned that I haven't done this with anyone in a good few years -"

Ranpo closes the distance between them before he can finish his stammered attempt to stall and presses their lips together, at long last.

It's nothing crazy. At first, it's very gentle, the two of them just mouthing at each other for a moment before a pair of hands so cold that Poe jumps a mile in the air find the flushed skin of his face. Ranpo laughs breathily against his lips at that, even as Poe gasps and then follows suit. How ridiculous this is. How ridiculous Ranpo makes Poe feel, as if he really is a teenager experiencing romance for the first time again.

Then Ranpo crashes against him, harder this time, deepening the kiss and dipping one hand to clutch at his collar. Poe has to prop himself up on his hands to avoid falling over the side of the couch, which makes Ranpo grin, although he doesn't stop. His lips taste like syrup and blueberries, nothing less than Poe had expected. It makes his stomach feel light and airy, like he could just fly away. 

Poe is Ranpo's opposite in terms of their stances on sweet and savoury, preferring things like pretzels and chips when it comes to snacking, and yet. He thinks he would like to taste Ranpo forever, if he could.

For the first time, he truly understands the phrase "butterflies in his stomach" - he'd never experienced something that had brought about that exact feeling before, but here he is. How funny that is. He'll have to write it down, when he gets a chance.

He pulls back slightly so he can catch a breath and stares at Ranpo's flushed face, delighting in how breathless and messy he looks after only a minute or so of kissing. Reveling in the spark of lust in the detective's bright eyes. 

This is so unusual for him that it makes his head spin a little.

"Do you want to stop?" Ranpo asks, dragging the pads of his fingers lightly up the sides of Poe's face and making him shiver. When he reaches the top, he pauses, and then tangles his fingers through the dark hair he finds there, grinning. "I'm alright if you want to."

Poe thinks Ranpo knows the answer to that fine well, and is only asking to be polite. He lets his eyes flutter closed and breathes, wondering what his twenty one year old self would say if he could see where he is now.

"Is this part of my prize?" he asks breathlessly.

"If you want it to be," Ranpo replies, brushing their noses together as he restrains himself from reinstigating the kiss. "Or it can just be me, asking if you're planning to sleep with me like a normal person. Up to you."

Having it laid out to him so plainly makes Poe's head spin. Yet, he's still not planning on saying no. How could he? 

How could anyone in the world say no to Ranpo Edogawa?

"Kiss me again and we'll see," he says firmly. "Then I suppose I'll make dinner like I promised."

"Sounds like a plan," Ranpo replies with a cheeky grin. "What a romantic night this is turning out to be..."

Poe rolls his eyes and pulls Ranpo close to him once more.