Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

That was one of the many things Ranpo had noticed about Edgar’s face. His skin; porcelain and delicate, as white as paper. His face would be grey whatever he was feeling, though his hair covered half of it. That one eye, often seen between dark brown curls, revealed the mass of emotion the man felt all of the time. He had a suprisingly good poker face for someone who practically wore their heart on their sleeve.
Nothing he deduced about Edgar’s face was necessary to know, really. Not since he’d completely stopped trying to kill everyone but he liked knowing it. Ranpo found himself analysing and noting down ever possible curve of his face, the long bend of his fingers as he traced down a book page, the way he could write without actually looking at the page — too distracted by whatever he’d researched for his book. Every little detail he kept in the back of his mind to pull out and think on when he was bored.

“Do you need something, Dearest?” Edgar’s voice broke him out of his trance. It occurred to Ranpo now that he’d been staring at Ed for the last twenty minutes whilst he read. Embarrassing.
“Nah, I’m good,” he said. “Can I deduce something about you real quick?” Even without his glasses he knew the answer, same as always.
“I’m shocked you’re asking,” Edgar teased. “You know I love every opportunity to see you at work. My life is yours to know.” His expression was soft, a small smile on his face as he sat waiting for Ranpo to do something. It was cheesy but he always felt those words strike his heart.

Ranpo took out his glasses and handed them to Edgar, who then placed the thin frames on his face, gently. The warmth oh his hands just barely brushed his face, it made his cheeks tingle.
“Deduce away, detective.” Generally Ranpo tried to limit his amazing ability for those he was close to, privacy and all that. Although sometimes he couldn’t really help connecting clues out of habit. He knew as he brought a hand to Edgar’s face and pushed his bangs back out of his face. The gesture dusted his cheeks pink.
“Uh — what exactly are you trying to deduce, my dear?”
“ I wanted to see your eyes.” He stroked a few stray hairs from his forehead to sit under his hand with the rest of his bangs. But Edgar kept his eyes on the couch beneath them out of Ranpo’s view.
“Ranpo — you don’t want to see them,” He said.
“Of course I do. I thought you said you were mine to know? I don’t ever get to see both of your eyes,” his other hand caressed Edgar’s cheek. “Please?” He sighed.
“Alright.”

When they met eyes, Ranpo felt as though the air he was I taking escaped him. He leaned in closer, their noses almost touching. Both of Edgar’s eyes were somewhat greyed; the left a violet-grey whilst the right was a striking blue-grey. It reminded him of the story his lover had published a few months ago, The Tell-Tale Heart. All at once Ranpo deduced the way he’d grown insecure of his eyes, the bullying he could only speculate about when Edgar was a child.
“…Ranpo?” His voice was a whisper; whether because he was nervous or flustered, it was a little hard to tell.
“You’re beautiful. Y’know, they kind of remind me of a storm.” Edgar laughed.
“What?”
“ I’m serious. It really is like looking into the eye of a storm, beautiful.” He stroked a thumb across his jawline and smiled.
“And here I thought I was a poet, you’re a natural, my darling.” It was Ranpo’s turn to laugh now. He’d love to tell the world everything he thought but he didn’t have the patience for the finesse of poetry. He let go of Edgar’s face and booped his nose, his other hand stroking through his hair.
“I’ll leave that to the master.” At that moment a loud scratching overpowered their whispering.
“Oh Karl, not the door!

Chapter Text

Edogawa Ranpo was not a man that lost. Not to criminals, not to friends and certainly not to children. From professional deductive competitions to mediocre board games, he won it all. Success came as easy to him as breathing. Failure was a feeling distinctly foreign to him on almost every occasion. Except today. To a fucking darts competition.

In hindsight, he should’ve never accepted a competition of precision with a military-grade sniper but how could he refuse Edgar when he looked at him like that. After a long yet successful case, some of the agency had decided to go out to a bar to celebrate and since Edgar was there, he was invited along. It might’ve been the alcohol but he could’ve swore Edgar’s face was glowing when he had asked, almost entrancing so. The two of them had been playing for the last hour now and Ranpo lost almost every round; he managed to fluke a bullseye once. Although, it would feel worse if Edgar decided to let him win and his partner knew that, hence why they were still playing.

Despite being at a bar neither of them were drunk — Ranpo didn’t feel like it and Ed wasn’t about to break five and half years of sobriety, and so they started competing. At first, simple deductions of the bar patrons until they started staring back. Then it was card games but apparently poker was banned in that specific bar because of a certain “incident” the bartender refused to elaborate on. This is what led them to darts. They stood in front of the board with a stool to the side for their drinks, water and lemonade. His friends had gathered around in a sort of half-circle around them after Edgar’s third win, intent on witnessing what they thought was impossible. And what made it worse?

“You’ve seriously never played darts before, Poe?” Said Yosano. She had a wine glass in one hand and the other slung around Dazai’s shoulder. The two had started a drinking game, a shot for every bullseye but now they were slowing themselves down as Ed had hit a bullseye on every throw. It would have been impressive if he weren’t a bit frustrated. Though, now he sort of understands how Ed felt after their initial competition. Though he certainly wasn’t going to admit that out loud.
“No, I’ve never had the opportunity. Though it’s much like knife-throwing and I have done that,” Ranpo could hear the smug smile in his voice even though he wasn’t looking at his face.
Dazai whistled, “Maybe we should try that next.” Kunikida, who had been idly nursing his only glass of the night, lightly smacked him in the head, “Not in public, you’re won’t! The president isn’t paying for any more property damages you cause.”

Ranpo ignored their bickering, far more entertained by the image of Ed losing to Kyouka in a knife throwing game. He took out his darts from his pocket and readied himself for another round. “You can do it, Ranpo!” Despite his words, Atsushi’s voice wavered. Traitor. He held the first dart gently between his fingers the way Edgar had done before, lined up his shot and threw. Miss. The second, hit the ‘17’. The third was so close to the middle.
“Dammit.”
“You’re doing well, my dear,” Ed said as he walked past Ranpo, lightly brushing his shoulder with his hand. He only huffed in response, playfully if anything. Ed collected Ranpo’s darts and gave them back before taking out his own. Ranpo’s eyes lingered on his stance, calm and confident. He had tied his hair low with a pale purple bow, the colour matching the long nails which held the dart. His usual suit jacket and cape had been forgotten on the barstool beside their drinks. Now he could really see the way his body moved with a fluidity and ease he couldn’t hope to match. The bar lights created a hazy glow around the writer as he landed all three darts, receiving a round of cheers from the agency.

“I don’t want to play anymore.” Said Ranpo, only to be booed by Yosano.
“Are you sure, dear? I’m certainly having fun.” Ed looked down at his friend, he was far too tall for one man.
“Of course you are. I’m tired anyways,” he faux tanned to punctuate his comment but Ed just laughed to himself before taking his darts off the wall. He motioned for Ranpo’s before returning them to the bartender. Ranpo picked up his glass for a drink. He hadn’t realised how dehydrating a darts game was. And somehow, Edgar hadn’t broken a sweat. The lukewarm sweetness filled his mouth and eased the lethargic feeling in his arms. Ed picked up his jacket and cape and held them in his lap as he sat down on the stool beside Ranpo. He’d finished his water a couple rounds ago.
“You’re not too sore about losing, are you?” He teased, though, Ranpo could deduce even without his glasses that he was asking genuinely.
“Of course not, the world’s best detective doesn’t need to be good at darts!” He ran a hand through his hair, he’d need a good shower when he got back. “Besides, it’s late. I’m sure Karl has decided we’ve forgotten about him by now.” “Oh no, you’re right — he’s probably so worried by now, the poor thing—“ He stood up and pulled on his jacket and cape. His win streak forgotten for his companion. “Ed, I was joking.” “I know, Ranpo dear but I have left him for a few hours now.” He slung an arm around Edgar’s and motioned for the door. “Let’s go home then!”

Edgar placed some cash on the table, intent to pay their share of the bill (it was far too much and covered all of them but they had begun to leave before their friends noticed). “Aw you’re leaving already?” Said Atsushi who had jogged up to them before they hit the door. “Yeah, might as those two rob the bar of all it’s booze,” he pointed at Yosano and Dazai who had begun cheering on Junichiro to take drink the line of shots they’d somehow procured in a few minutes. “Karl needs us home, anyway.” At that Atsushi tilted his head to the side, much like a cat would. “Home? As in one home — you live together?” His eyes widened as he stared at them. Oh shit. “Uh yeah—“ “Ranpo, I thought you said you told them,” Edgar had shout-whispered in his ear; Ranpo had partially moved in a week ago and and he had been told it was a good idea to tell his friend so they didn’t think he’d been kidnapped when he doesn’t show up to the dorms for a week. “Whoops.” Atsushi at first didn’t say anything, looking back and forth between the two of them before bowing. “Congratulations, I’m sure everyone is very happy for you! I can tell the others if you want!” Before they could actually respond he ran off back to the table, his hands waving in the air as he excitedly told the agency the news.

Ranpo caught his friends waving back to him before he dragged Edgar outside. The warmth in his face becoming so much more apparent as the evening cold hit him. Atsushi had assumed they were in a romantic relationship. They were not. Although, the thought made his heart jump. “Ranpo?” He could see Ed’s breath fan out in front of him, a look of worry on his face. Had he picked up on Atsushi’s assumption? He was his rival it wouldn’t be a surprise. “I’m fine! We should start walking, it’s too cold,” he gave Ranpo a look that most definitely meant they were talking about it when they got home, but then he pulled off his cape and wrapped it around his shoulders. “That should do until we get home, my dear.” He felt Edgar’s hands over his one that still hung on his arm, warm and comforting. That flustered feeling gave way to one of comfort as they bang to walk to Edgar’s manor.

The night was cool, refreshing and quiet in comparison to the overcrowded bar. Ranpo tugged the star clasp of the cape further over the shoulder Edgar wasn’t subtly leaning against. The streets were surprisingly well lit, guiding the way home. His friends and family now believed he and Ed were dating. It really shouldn’t have mattered that much, his personal life was his business but it still sat forthright in his mind. He could deduce himself going into work tomorrow and explaining they weren’t together, only to be teased and reassured they completely accepted him. It would be comforting if true. He looked up at the man he was walking with. He knew Edgar was a hopeless romantic no matter how much he denied it. His ‘infatuation’ with Ranpo was obvious to everyone who saw them but was it romantic? Their friendship was great as it was; he finally had someone to keep up with him, to actually entertain him and make work fun. If he lost him he didn’t know what he’d do.

The man in question’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. “Penny for your thoughts?” What better way to find out. He looked at the pavement, anything to not watch his face contort with disgust or cold apathy. “Atsushi thinks we’re dating. And so do the rest of the agency,” better to blurt it out now, he thought. Edgar passed in his step and Ranpo followed. The silence lingered for a moment but it felt far longer, he couldn’t breathe. “Is — is that what’s bothering you?” His voice was quieter than it had been before. He could feel the way Edgar’s fingers twitched against his own and the way he began to pull away. “Not really.” “Oh. Then what is it?” Ranpo pulled his arm closer to him. The deduction came to his mind before he could really think about it. Ed sounded dejected at the thought that the two of them dating bothered Ranpo. Edgar had expected rejection. This could’ve meant a lot of things, maybe he didn’t want to ruin their friendship either. But he was the greatest detective in the world after all and the most obvious conclusion was clearly the correct one.

Ranpo looked up at his companion again, concern laced in his expression and something else. They had stopped under a street lamp beside a closed story he couldn’t be bothered to identify. The light illuminated them both amidst the evening darkness, their shared breath visible and clouding around their bodies. He looked beautiful like this. Beautiful was not a word Ranpo usually used but it felt appropriate for Edgar. There were probably a hundred other synonyms that would do him far more justice but he wasn’t as familiar as Edgar was. “Ranpo?” “Ed,” he brought a hand to cup his face. His cheek was cold against his hand, his lips slightly parted. “Can I kiss you?” The silence hung only a moment longer before Ed had closed the distance between them. His own face caged between his hands, the cool metal of the rings in his fingers practically stung Ranpo’s cheeks but wasn’t complaining.

The kiss wasn’t like anything he had imagine doing with Ed before but it was certainly far better, he’d leave imagining scenes to the writer he was holding. Warmth flooded his body, his anxiety about their relationship somewhat forgotten on the street. It was short and sweet and when they broke apart they stayed close to each other. They lingered there, in each other’s arms for what felt like an eternity before Edgar broke the silence. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” he whispered, a small smile on his face. “I won’t have to correct Atsushi tomorrow, will I?” Ranpo was smiling too. He’d have to give the kid one of his chocolate bars or something as thanks. “I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t.” “Let’s go home then.”