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Being awoken the middle of the night to incessantly loud knocking really pissed Genichiro off.
Being dragged out of his warm bed on a cold night to open the door to one Edogawa Ranpo further pissed him off.
Being thrown up on by said Edogawa Ranpo really had him questioning if he could commit murder and get away with it.
But he doesn’t, and he takes a moment to study the man in front of him in order to determine the next course of action—which ideally would be putting Ranpo into a taxi and sending him back home where he was no doubt, supposed to be—and his eyes rove over Ranpo’s form, studying the red flush that’s spread across Ranpo’s face, the familiar smell of alcohol on his breath that Genichiro can smell from where he is standing, and the way that Ranpo is clinging to the doorframe… all point to Ranpo being very, very drunk.
“Genichiro, it’s cold, let me in!” Ranpo slurred out before stumbling into his apartment, tripping over his own feet and only avoiding the following faceplant because Genichiro doesn’t want to add blood to the mess that his floor has become. Ranpo clings to his shirt, and looks up at him, the widest grin that Genichiro has ever seen on his face.
It throws him for a loop for only a couple of seconds before he gets his wits about him, and he leans over to close the door, trapping Ranpo in the apartment. “Why are you even here, you brat?”
“I came to see you, of course!” Ranpo shifts closer, chin pressed firmly against Genichiro’s chest with arms winding around his waist. “I missed you!”
“You are drunk.”
“Yep!”
Genichiro sighs and crosses his arms. “You aren’t going to leave, are you?”
Ranpo’s grin widens. “Nope!”
Resigning himself to losing the rest of his night to deal with… whatever this situation he’s found himself in is, Genichiro steps away with the intention of at least changing his clothes, since they were covered in drunken vomit, and it was not comfortable in the slightest. Not that Ranpo makes it easy, clinging to Genichiro and whining whenever he tries to pry the younger off of him. Normally, he wouldn’t hesitate to manhandle Ranpo into leaving him alone long enough to actually get shit done, but normally in those situations, Ranpo is sober.
Ranpo when he’s as drunk as he is, is far different to the one that Genichiro normally deals with, so he has to be a little careful, lest he actually hurt Ranpo.
Somehow, he manages to get to his bedroom whilst Ranpo clings to his front, and somehow he manages to undress himself—truly a feat when Ranpo used the one moment he bent down to scale him like a tree and latch on even harder, nuzzling against his cheek like a cat. It’s grossly affectionate, and Genichiro wishes he had a camera to take a picture so that he can show Ranpo once he’s sober; he can already picture the expression the younger will make, perhaps annoyed, or embarrassed, but either way, it will bring him joy.
“I hope you know that you are the biggest brat I’ve ever known.” Genichiro voices, walking out of his room and towards the bathroom. “Just how much did you even drink?”
“Lots!” Ranpo says, throwing one arm up into the air in drunken excitement and waving it around without a single care. “We were cele—celebrating uh, uh… Yosano’s birthday! Yes, we were celebrating!”
That you certainly were, Genichiro thinks, even though he knows full well that it was Ranpo’s best friend’s birthday last month, but there’s no point in even bringing that up, not when the chance of Ranpo even remembering this conversation is very low. Instead, he changes the subject. “As much as I love you clinging to me—” he absolutely did not, “—you stink of alcohol and vomit, so you need to let go and take a shower—”
“Nooo, I don’t want to.” Ranpo cuts Genichiro off, his voice rising in pitch, and the arms around Genichiro’s neck threaten to cut off his air.
“I don’t care, you’re having one.”
His words are met with bitching and moaning, but Genichiro ignores every complaint that comes, prying Ranpo from his being—finally—and dumping him into the shower and underneath the cold spray. Ranpo yelps in response, and tries to scurry away from it, but Genichiro grabs onto one arm and holds it firmly, preventing him from escaping. “Stop fussing, brat!”
“It’s cold!” Ranpo looks up at him with a pout.
Genichiro huffs and sticks his hand under the spray; already the water is warming. “Yeah, and it’ll warm up in a second, so stop your whining. And scoot over, you aren’t the only one to need a shower.”
Immediately, Ranpo’s pout vanishes, and is replaced with a wide-eyed look that absolutely does not suit him. He doesn’t say anything, but he does as Genichiro asks and moves over so he can get into the shower as well. He also chooses to remain on the ground as well, meaning that Genichiro has to kneel so that he can pry Ranpo’s clothes from his body, which apparently indicates somehow that it’s okay for Ranpo to break the silence—it’s very much not—and he starts to chatter away at everything he’d done the last few hours.
Genichiro does his part in listening half-heartedly to Ranpo as he talks, focusing more on cleaning the two of them off and getting them out of the shower and into a bed since he was so rudely dragged from it to begin with. Besides, Ranpo’s drunken ramblings don’t make a whole lot of sense to begin with, and it’s hard to figure out just what exactly he’s on about when he switches topics so fast. At first, it starts off with what Ranpo believed to have happened—a celebration for Yosano’s birthday—but then it starts to derail into absolute chaos involving what Genichiro deciphers to involve a strip club and another of Ranpo’s friends climbing the pole and subsequently falling from it.
And as he’s forcing Ranpo into one of his shirts, the story falls apart completely, with Ranpo repeating himself, and forgetting what he’s saying halfway through. It’s as he’s about to hear the strip club story for the fourth time that Genichiro intervenes, slapping a hand across Ranpo’s mouth. “Quiet you drunken idiot. Tell me this in the morning if you even remember.”
“Okay!” Ranpo says, unperturbed. He then dashes from the bathroom, colliding with the door frame and tripping before he disappears from view entirely.
Not that Genichiro doesn’t know where he’s going of course.
He takes a moment to run his hands through his hair before he heads back to his room, and sure enough, there’s Ranpo, already curled up underneath the blankets. Genichiro merely raises an eyebrow, more than used to having his bed invaded by the younger man, and he crawls into the bed, throwing an arm over Ranpo’s waist and dragging him close.
Ranpo lets out a content hum and rolls over so he can press his face into Genichiro’s chest. There’s a moment of silence, and then Ranpo quietly slurs. “Love you…”
“Tell me that when you aren’t drunk.” Genichiro responds, smoothing his hand through Ranpo’s hair, already drifting back to sleep himself, and completely ignoring that the sun is starting to rise.
“Okay… I will…” Ranpo promises, voice fading as sleep claims him.
Genichiro snorts, knowing that Ranpo won’t follow through because he won’t remember ever making such a promise when he wakes up in the afternoon, but that doesn’t bother him in the slightest.
There’s never been a need for words with them.