Work Text:
5:10 PM, FRIDAY
A: “You mean right now?”
R: ”So, you’re busy then?”
A: “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“I’m just surprised is all. It’s not often you reach out to me first.”
“But to answer your question—no, I’m not busy. I’ll meet you at 6:00 PM sharp.”
The sun had already started to set. Ren, currently celebrating in silence, sat on his bedside. He placed his phone beside him, stretching before pushing himself to his feet with a groan.
His eyes drifted to his shelf. Ren’s wardrobe wasn’t exactly extensive, though he never failed to look presentable. Not that it took much effort—his options were limited, and honestly, he didn’t mind. Of course, he already had in mind what he’d wear. His usual black tee, a white button-down to match, and a pair of slightly snug jeans.
Was it special? Not really. But then again, his closet wasn’t exactly unordinary. If anything, his attire would surely fool his date. This is what he’d wear on any average day out, especially with how common these hangouts had recently become. Most would consist of just a splasher or two, a longer in depth conversation about society, and a riled up Akechi attempting to keep his composure. To no surprise, Ren was almost always at fault for this.
Though, tonight would be different. With Valentine’s Day approaching, he’d finally have his excuse to make a move. In his head, he’d run through a dozen different ways it could go. But Akechi? He probably wasn’t expecting anything beyond their usual conversation at Jazz Jin.
“Date? What are you on about?” Yeah, Ren could already hear him shutting it down before the thought even formed.
So, as far as Akechi knew, this was just a normal night out. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Getting ready didn’t take long. A quick run of his fingers through his hair, and he was out the door. Unlike Ren, Akechi had already been running behind.
6:00 PM sharp… what a joke, He thought. It’s not like he was necessarily untimely, but living alone had its challenges—getting out the door on schedule was definitely one of them.
Unlike Ren’s bare-bones excuse for a room, Akechi actually had a closet to store his clothes. Sifting through the different shirts and cover ups, it’s no surprise as to what he landed on—his average, oh so very average, long sleeve button down, paired with his favorite blue sweater vest. Without a second to waste, he hastily buttoned up his shirt, tugged the vest over his head, and gave himself a quick pat-down to make sure everything was in place.
Glancing up at the clock as he sprinted through the living room, he groaned. 5:45. Great. His wallet, phone, and keys were still sitting on the kitchen counter where he’d tossed them earlier. He scooped them up, shoving all three into his pocket with a pang of regret—he really wished he had more time.
His errands had already eaten up most of his afternoon. What was supposed to be a quick trip to the supermarket had turned into a desperate race to get home before Ren won in his stead. And now, back at his apartment, he found himself frustrated at the fact that he would agree to such an unreasonable timeframe. Nonetheless, he hurried himself out the front door, making sure to lock it behind him.
From a distance, Akechi could be seen huffing just outside the entrance—only ten minutes late, mind you. Inside, Ren was already seated at a small two-person table, grinning like he had something to say. What was so amusing, anyway? Akechi shook his head and hurried inside, not that he had the luxury to dwell on such things.
As he made his way over, he kept a mindful eye on his surroundings—especially the waiter approaching with two blue splashers in hand. “I apologize for the delay,” he started, but before he could finish—
“Your drinks, sir,” the waiter cut in, clearly prepared. Akechi, however, was not. He had already gathered that the glasses were meant for his table, but the sheer fact that the waiter had anticipated this—no, that Ren had anticipated this—irritated him.
Ren spoke a low thanks before turning his attention back to Akechi. “Look at you, Ace Detective. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you late before.”
The smug remark gave Akechi just enough time to settle into his seat, considering how he’d been interrupted a moment prior. “You’d be surprised,” he sighed, sitting up straight before motioning vaguely. “What, couldn’t wait ten minutes?”
Ren blinked, sitting up a little straighter himself. He hesitated, clearly torn between saying something like “sorry” or “that’s not it”.
Akechi wasn’t stupid. He knew the waiter had done nothing wrong. But the fact that Ren knew exactly what he’d order? That was what pissed him off. Before Ren could get a word in, Akechi smiled—that infuriating, all-too-innocent smile that Ren could see right through.
“You must pay close attention.”
Ren let out a laugh. “Well, to be fair, I’ve never seen you order anything else.” He leaned back, shaking his head. “Considering how often you drag me here, it’s only expected.”
Drag? Akechi felt his eye twitch. It was then when he was reminded of why they didn’t get along.
“Well then…” He reached for the glass in front of him. “Why not just turn me down? I’m not sure if you’ve realized, but you do have free will.” Akechi idly stirred his straw around the glass, the ice clinking against the sides.
Meanwhile, Ren’s gaze was locked onto the way Akechi’s hand moved, making absolutely no effort to be subtle about it. It was irritating. Of course, all Akechi could do was scowl. He needed to change the subject—maybe to politics. Something that would let him tune Ren out while still keeping the conversation going. He preferred it that way. It was safer. No risk of vulnerability.
“Oh, by the way…” Ren’s voice cut through his fog with ease. “Don’t stress over refills. It’s on me.” He propped his elbow on the table, resting his cheek against his palm. “I know how much you like those. I’d be pretty bummed if you didn’t take advantage of that.”
The offer was nice, sure, but the way Ren was looking at him threw him off. “Who cares what you think.” He proceeded to down the entire glass.
“Feeling argumentative? We just got here,” Ren teased. He tilted his head, amused. “Not that it matters—I like you more this way.”
Ren was looking straight at him now. And better yet, Akechi stared right back. Their eye contact was painfully prolonged. He hadn’t meant to react, hadn’t meant to look at him like that—but every time Ren said things like this, it forced him to respond in ways he shouldn’t.
Excessively flirty comments were nothing new, that much was certain. But for them to flirt in such a setting was uncanny. Like a scene ripped straight out of a cliche romantic film.
Akechi shook his head. “Very funny.”
Lifting his straw, Akechi took a slow sip—not that he wanted Ren to be watching him, but… oh, hell. He already knew his feelings ran deeper than just hatred. Beyond rivalry. Beyond reason.
Beyond romantic, even.
But of course, Akechi wouldn’t let himself get caught off guard so easily. Not that he’d ever admit it. Getting involved with Ren Amamiya sounded worse than hell itself…Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
As the night stretched on, their conversation drifted into heavier territory, leaving Akechi with even more to think about. More to overanalyze. More to ignore. The weight of it all settled on his shoulders, pressing down with every drink he finished.
He glanced at his phone beneath the table. 9:00 PM. Shit. How did he let himself get this caught up?
“Ah,” he exhaled, sitting back with a sigh. “That’s a shame. I was just starting to enjoy myself… I should get going.” He stood, running his fingers absentmindedly along the edge of the table. “Thank you for the drinks. This was… nice.”
Ren was quiet for a moment. Then—
“Wait,” he said. “Let me walk you home.”
Akechi froze.
Damn him.
He knew. He knew exactly what he was doing—how these little things always managed to fluster him.
Akechi’s expression twisted into something vaguely irritated. “What’s with you?”
“Is doing something nice for you against your practice?”
“No. You’re acting odd, that's all.”
Ren scoffed, pushing his chair back without another word. Then, with an ease that sent Akechi’s heart into his throat, he reached for his hand—his touch careful, deliberate. And before Akechi could react, Ren lifted it slightly and pressed the lightest, most infuriatingly polite kiss to the top of his palm.
Akechi’s breath hitched.
His face burned. What the hell was that?!
His hand lingered in the air for a second too long before he curled it into a loose fist, pulling it to his chest as if that would erase what just happened. He watched as Ren disappeared out the door, fully expecting him to follow. Because, of course, that was all he knew.
His mind wandered. What happened to the irritatingly stupid pervy high school boy that he’d known for months? It’s almost as if Arsène himself had crossed over and boosted his confidence. It was obvious he was capable of things like this, but… for him to actually act on it? Yeah, right.
Just as he had expected, Ren was dragging him into something beyond their original plans—again. And, as much as he hated to admit it, there was no escaping it now.
The walk home was quieter than Ren had hoped.
Akechi had probably hated every second of it—Jazz Jin, the teasing, the kiss. Every little plan Ren had for the night seemed to crumble right before his eyes, along with any hope that Akechi might return his feelings. The angry response he’d get from Akechi was expected, but paired with his vulnerability at the time—things between them didn’t seem so great.
Akechi glanced over at Ren. He looked… awkward. Like he didn’t want to be there. Well, whatever. He’d make the first move instead.
They were standing close—closer than before. Akechi’s hand brushed against Ren’s, their arms nearly pressed together. Slowly, his pinky crept up, hooking around Ren’s in a single, deliberate motion. Neither of them said a word. Ren didn’t flinch or even pull away. He simply turned his gaze toward Akechi for a brief moment before looking ahead again.
“You’re not a fan?” Akechi asked, tilting his head slightly. “I can let go.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“We’re almost at the station, you know.”
Ren twirled a strand of hair between his fingers, eyes cast toward the ground—as he usually does. “I know.”
Akechi frowned. Did he say something wrong? If he didn’t know Ren any better, he’d think he was having some kind of mood swing.
“May I ask you something?” Akechi looked ahead. His feet came to a slow stop.
“Hit me.”
“…Were you using me as practice?”
Ren didn’t react much, but Akechi could tell he was at least a little thrown off. “What do you mean?”
Their pinkies were still linked. Neither of them had let go.
“Well,” Akechi started, “the way you’ve been acting tonight. The things you’ve said. It’s… the kind of thing you’d typically do for a girl.”
Ren went silent for a beat, then let out a quiet chuckle. “For an ace detective, I’d expect you to have a little more brains than that. Try again.” He pulled his arm away—but only to reach into his bag.
“Try again? What do you mean—?”
Before Akechi could finish, Ren pulled out a bouquet of forget-me-nots, extending them toward him.
“For you.”
Akechi blinked, staring. “…These are for me?”
“Who else?”
Akechi took the bouquet in one arm, gripping it tighter than he needed to. He couldn’t take it anymore. Ren hadn’t screwed up at all—not once—and somehow, that pissed him off. Without thinking, his feet moved on their own. One step. Two. And before he could second-guess himself, he leaned in, pressing his lips against Ren’s.
It wasn’t the best kiss—neither of them had much experience—but it felt natural. They melted into each other, Ren’s hand moving up to Akechi’s cheek, pulling him closer for just a second longer. Then reality hit, and Akechi pulled away, staring Ren straight in the eyes.
Ren, still holding his hand now, looked completely at ease. Meanwhile, Akechi felt like dying on the spot. Truth be told, he couldn’t insult him in this state—it was so much easier when Ren was being an idiot. What a shame… Though, he didn’t really mind. Whatever lie ahead of them was something that only his brain could control. And clearly, he had none.
“You know, Valentine’s Day is coming up soon.” Ren grinned.
Akechi groaned, dragging a hand down his face. So that’s what gave him the courage. After everything that’d gone over his head, he barely felt qualified to call himself a detective anymore. “I get it now. Just—take me home.”
He gave Ren’s hand a firm squeeze and, for once, took the lead. Ren simply smiled, knowing all too well that his plan had gone swimmingly.
Akechi being himself—that was all he’d wanted from the start, anyway. He couldn’t ask for anything more.