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City lights nothing but a blurred, firefly illumination doting the distance behind their window; the same windows that were opened by a crack. Ranpo wanted to close it, but Dazai persisted, insisting it was for ventilation (it was more so to have a silent excuse to hold Ranpo close). It didn’t take long for the genius detective to realize the actual reason. Once Ranpo did, he wrapped himself up with the sole blanket on their shared bed.
“Enjoy the ventilation.” Ranpo made a face at him, tongue sticking out, body rolled into a burrito.
Dazai chuckled and crawled onto the bed, cupping the silly face made at him with both hands; how perfect. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on his senior’s forehead. “Aw, but you won’t be able to resist anything I do all wrapped up as a burrito, can you, Ranpo-san?”
“Hm?” Ranpo tilted his head, eyelashes fluttering with suspicion. He tried to lean back, but with how tightly he had wrapped himself, it was rather futile.
Holding Ranpo’s face in his hands, Dazai peppered light kisses all over. From Ranpo’s forehead down, one near each of his brows, temple, corners of his eyes, lips, nose, mouth, on his cheeks, down to his jawline, and ears.
“Wha—, wait, wait!” Ranpo, the burrito, wiggled through it all, pink fading into red across his face with each kiss Dazai rained on him.
“This pretty face was meant to be held and kissed by me, isn’t it hm?” Dazai brushed aside a few pieces of hair blocking Ranpo’s eyes and—chu, another kiss.
“You—you…I—what—you—Daza—wait—” Before Ranpo could get out a complete and coherent sentence, Dazai planted another kiss, this time on the lips, giving the flustered detective no chance.
“Aww, the all-mighty detective Edogawa Ranpo all embarrassed from some kisses,”—Dazai’s teasing lips lean so close, the two’s eyelashes are nearly touching— ”Say it, Ranpo-san, say it, or I won’t stop~”
Ranpo twisted and turned, and twisted and turned. Finally, he settled. “…Fine.” He turned his head to the side, avoiding eye contact with Dazai. “I…I—”
Dazai gleefully nodded along in encouragement.
“…I—” The burrito jumped up from the bed and headbutted the teasing man right on the forehead.
“OW! Ranpo-sannn—” Whines poured out of Dazai like water. His hands let go of Ranpo and rubbed at the spot where he was attacked. “That hurtssss.”
Ranpo unrolled himself from the blanket and hid his tomato cheeks behind his hands. “Hmph, suits you well.”
Ignoring the sarcastic comment, a teary-eyed Dazai threw himself onto Ranpo. “Ranpo-san is so mean to me,” he complained, throwing his arms around Ranpo’s shoulders and letting theatrical tears fall. “All I ever did was show my love…but it seems that Ranpo-san doesn’t feel the same after all…”
The urge to punch the man brewed, and Ranpo gave in to it. Punching—if it could even be called that with the little force that was used; knocking might be a better word—the puddle of a man above him, Ranpo huffed, “You’re so an—”
The following word already on the tip of his tongue, but the expectant expression on Dazai’s face sent it right back down to the pit of Ranpo’s stomach. “—dumb!” A couple more “punches” thrown, Ranpo continued, “I don’t sleep with idiots!”
Dazai caught one of Ranpo’s punches, forced his hand open, and laced their fingers together. “No?” The mesh of the bandages wrapped around his palm grazed Ranpo’s. It felt perfect. “I must be special then,” he giggled.
“Hmph, definitely special.” Ranpo leaned his cheek on Dazai’s shoulder. No longer throwing punches at the man holding him, he began picking at the creases and folds on Dazai’s shirt with his free hand. “You’re more affectionate tonight than usual.”
No questions followed, just a plain statement. Dazai brought their intertwined hands to his lips. Another kiss. Dazai answered, “Why wouldn’t I be? Ranpo-san is so lovely, it would be a crime not to be.”
Ranpo didn’t bother to rebut, only turning his head and pressing his face against Dazai’s neck. Through the bandages, the subtle, rhythmic beat of life drummed against Ranpo. He opened his mouth and gave Dazai’s neck a small bite—a quick nimble, like a kitten might do when annoyed. Dazai’s breath hitched for a moment, and then he drew in a light breath, light enough to pass as normal.
“I’m going to sleep,” Ranpo said, letting his hand drop.
Dazai could feel the vibration of Ranpo’s words against his neck, and scooped up Ranpo’s hand into his own without missing a beat. “That’s unfair, Ranpo-san. You can’t just go to sleep right after teasing me like that.” Still, his voice softened.
A low hum, a shift in the nooks of Dazai’s neck, and after that, steady breaths.
Ranpo can, because he is Ranpo, and there wasn’t much that Dazai could do against the wishes of such a pampered boyfriend if he could help it.
This understanding, is both enticing and daunting to Dazai.
Dazai slipped them both under the soft sheets, washed just that morning. The silence in the air was decorated by whispers of the winds that slipped through the cracks of unclosed windows, mingling the breaths from the two of them. Dazai’s arms pulled the sleeping detective in closer, removing the remaining millimeters of distance between their hearts.
He rested one hand on the sleeping detective’s hair, and wrapped another around his waist. The skin under his touch all warmed up from being safely blanketed. He squeezed a little, like how one might do to a kitten—once, twice, and then a third time. Where did all the snacks Ranpo ate go? They were certainly not showing.
Dazai pressed his face into the deceptively spiky yet actually fluffy raven hair and breathed in. Even the shampoo and body wash Ranpo regularly uses are cotton candy flavored. His lover’s entire being marinated with sugar inside out.
“It’s a fun flavor.” He remembered Ranpo saying. “And it was a freebie with the cotton candy cake promotion from the new bakery.”
Dazai let out the same breath he took in, his face still buried in Ranpo’s hair. His sugar-made lover made a small noise amidst his sleep, and curled in closer. The sugary scent enveloped Dazai once again, and he wondered about his chances of avoiding Ranpo’s “punches” if Ranpo were to wake up with his saliva on him.
Cotton candies are meant to be eaten, aren’t they? If not tonight, Dazai doesn’t mind waiting until another night to melt Ranpo under him.