He paused on the top step just a few above the other and looked back at him. It touched him that Hakuba wanted to help; had some how always wanted to help him. It dawn on him the earlier comment:
“I wouldn’t ignore a cry for help, Kuroba-kun… just who do you think that I am, anyway?”
Yes, it did include those he helped but …it included him. It included him. Just maybe there was some thing mutual. Moving on pure emotions he took one step down, leaned over and pressed his lips to the detective cheek just under the corner of his eye.
Lifting he walked back up the step to go, finally get to his spot on the couch.
Wh-
The detective froze again when Kuroba leaned close, refusing to move backward, but not meeting him, either. And as much as he wanted to wince because he didn’t know what was coming, he couldn’t look away. Then there it was – a simple, sweet gesture that left Hakuba red in the face all over again and speechless once more.
He stood there for a few seconds after Kaito left, attempting to sort out the muddled thoughts in his head, but came up with nothing. Just the reminder that Kuroba was drunk, that things had been stressful, and that there was the high possibility that Kaito wouldn’t remember anything the next morning.
So he followed, coming to a halt near the couch with an expression of concern. “Are you all right here on the couch? Can I help you upstairs? I… ah, I could carry you, if you like. It wouldn’t be a problem…”