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The moment Nakahara Chuuya sees the detective, there’s a sense of irritation rising within him — he hasn’t forgotten how he fell for Edogawa Ranpo’s trap, resulting in days lost within the ability user’s novel.
The mafioso meant to teach him a lesson, as a token of gratitude, of course.
What Chuuya doesn’t expect is his own failed attack — the detective is surprisingly light on his feet and not only did Ranpo manage to avoid being assaulted, he even excels at fighting back. Their little fight doesn’t drag out for long as Chuuya feels his dagger pressed against his neck as he is restrained on the floor with the raven on top of him.
Again and again, Ranpo surprises him: he hadn’t expected the detective to gain the upper hand so easily.
“You fuckin’ bastard.” Chuuya curses as sharp eyes glare at the man on top. Reluctantly, he admits that he fucked up and Ranpo may as well slit his throat — he’s got all the reasons to, after all and with the mafioso restrained, he’s also in the perfect position to do so.
Ranpo cracks a grin as he leans in closer instead, voice dripping with amusement. “You can have this back, Nakahara-kun.”
The knife's stuck into concrete and grazes his ear lightly. Chuuya feels his blood boiling and dripping, heart beating faster with adrenaline. The pain surges, but it’s not nearly enough to warrant any sort of reaction from the mafioso.
Instead, a gloved hand grabs Ranpo’s wrist and without further delay, his ability surges through his target and Chuuya topples the man over with ease.
Their positions turned, Chuuya restrained his wrist against the floor as his free hand reached for Ranpo’s neck in a chokehold.
“Don’t fuckin’ mess with me, Edogawa.” He threatens as he applies pressure on Ranpo’s neck; having the man gag for air.
Much to Chuuya’s irritation, the detective’s smile doesn’t falter, as if he’s enjoying the turn of events.
“You — hah — will not kill me.” He rasps, lips curling up wider and eyes crescent in amusement.
The executive knows that he’s right: as tempting as the thought may be, he cannot murder the agency’s linchpin just like that — especially with the ceasefire the two organizations have. Chuuya isn’t oblivious either: even without the temporary suspension, the armed detective agency will be after his ass if he did. In fact, Mori is more likely to serve him on a silver platter in order to avoid war with them.
So instead, Chuuya focuses his frustration and contempt into the dagger grazing Ranpo’s cheek — leaving a trail of blood as sharp eyes stare down at him and he leans in close. “You may be right, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still beat you up.” It’s more a warning than a threat.
Next thing he knows is that the gravity fails him in the moment of surprise as Ranpo’s free hand reaches for the back of his neck to push the mafioso down; their mouths crashing together.
Chuuya’s eyes widen in shock and his frame freezes for a split second as his brain processes the situation. He can feel the raven’s tongue against his lips and it’s soft and warm and hot and— reflexively — he kisses back.
They bite and tear at each other's mouths, hands shoving and pulling at their clothes. A surge of urgency pushes them to deepen the kiss and violently wrestle on the dirty floor. Chuuya's persistent nature pushes him even further, despite the absurdity of the situation.
They only part when the chokehold on Ranpo’s neck is enough to have the man gasping for air and reaching for Chuuya’s wrist, unable to continue what he had started.
Chuuya lingers a while longer, watching the detective; sapphire hues no longer filled with the rage and irritation from earlier.
He is intrigued — he likes what he sees and if anything, has enjoyed their little game just now. He likes that Ranpo can put up a fight and actually keep up with him. It has him weirdly excited in a way he can’t quite put into words yet and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious to see what else the man has to offer, but those thoughts are fleeting at best. There’s no way they’re going to continue this absurdity.
“…there’s definitely something wrong with your head.” Chuuya comments instead, knowing full well that it applies to himself as well.
He has the decency to finally let go of Ranpo’s neck and get off him; picking up his dagger and slipping it back into his pocket as well as his coat, dusting it off and throwing it over his shoulders once again.
There’s a chuckle ringing in his ears and he glances back to see the raven standing again; hand sliding across the marks Chuuya left on his neck. It looks good on him, he thinks and curses himself for his thoughts.
Ranpo steps closer to him as if they’re friends and tilts his head with a sheepish grin. “Why don’t we have a more elaborate talk about that at your place, Nakahara-kun? You’re free tonight, right?”
“Huh?” Did he just invite himself over?
Does he even know what he's implying?Chuuya snorts at the thought, the audacity. He doesn’t care to suppress his excitement either. As annoying as the older is, Chuuya knows that he's very well aware what he just suggested. “Sure am — however, don’t expect to be leaving tonight. I’m not known for holding back.” If he had the man at his place already, then he wasn’t going to play nice at all.
“I wouldn’t want you to! It wouldn't be fun otherwise~.” Ranpo smirks as he walks next to Chuuya without any care in the world. As if he'd planned all of this.