by

Bloody Moriarty

thelotusflowerfiles:

“AH! No! That won’t be necessary ….. ah” Azuza glanced down to the dog then back to Shinichi and blushed slightly. “I’m sorry … I just dogs make me nervous and we do have a policy on dogs but if shes”

Shinichi blinked at her then smiled charmingly at her and held up a hand to stop her rambles.. “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t know. There’s no harm in that.”

“r-right” she stuttered. “Ah, tea with honey and a water right? Right.”

When she turned her back to him and hurried off Shinichi’s charming smile vanished and he looked back to Hakuba. “Sorry about that. She’s really nice just a bit scattered.”

He gave a soft smile to him then to Twig as he crouched down to give her a good rub behind the ears.

The charm had been fake and yet Hakuba was taken in an instant, watching Shinichi while he spoke to Azuza until he finished, and it all faded away. He blinked, leaning back on the bench, and nodded while the other– er, the only detective paid attention to the dog again.

“Right, yes, it’s fine, fine… honestly, I’ve come to expect it. She sort of surprises people sometimes, and they can’t always see the vest when she’s under the table.”  He frowned, and though he wanted to look under at her, he didn’t really want to risk tweaking his back. Not at the moment. 

“I ought to invest in one with Japanese writing…" 

Twig leaned into the pets, eyes closing and tail wagging. Hakuba didn’t seem very upset, so she was content to receive. 

"Ah, so.” Hakuba cleared his throat with a small cough, putting the pages away. “I suppose most of what we have to discuss are things better left for a more private venue.” An awkward position to be in, for certain. “But, ah, did you see the BBC Sherlock Holmes series? The one with Benedict Cumberbatch?" 

by

Blond Humbug

smokebombsandmirrors:

Kaito was barely listening to the blonde. It was cold and he didn’t take too well to it. His bare hands were freezing numb and his cheap winter coat did little to help against the biting cold. He had been listening to the detective for the last hour or two, he couldn’t remember now, rant and rave about Christmas, which in his opinion wasn’t that bad. It was a time to be romantic and cherish time with family and loved ones.

He did glance around briefly and didn’t see the gaudy decoration he was so used to but the peaceful loving faces of those who passed by. For a moment he wished for something like that but here he was stuck with a Englishman with a vendetta and an attitude of a pissed off terrier. He wasn’t expecting to get shoved out the classroom and force to pick up supplies and for what defending himself against the detective’s accusations. 

He sighed and tried to bury his hurting nose into the fabric of his coat. The question caught him off guard. Casting a side ways glance he glared at the other.

“Why do you care?” he replied back prickly. He nerves were jumping around in his throat like always when the other talked to him. 

“Well,” Hakuba said, tilting his head to look from Kaito to the next window as they passed, noting privately that it wasn’t nearly as attractively frosted as the ones back home. “I’m a pesky detective, clearly. It’s my job to ask annoying questions like that. Besides, I’m curious.”

Mittens on, he pushed his hands back into his pockets, shuffling the bags of things that the rep said they needed for the party. She’d only sent them out because they had been bickering again, he knew, but he didn’t quite understand the logic behind it. What made her think that forcing them to spend some time out in town would help anything? If anything, it seemed to be making things worse. 

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

His breathe came out on a sigh and the first word to come to him was: finally. He kept his itchy hands deep into his pockets. He pressed lightly into the kiss and felt his eyes flutter closed. Desire rared and flashed hot. He could feel it all the way down to his toes. He wanted so badly to press himself against the other. To feel his heat, the solidity of his body, to take in his scent and match his desire. The moment he felt his part he followed slightly with him hoping to catch him again then slowly opened his eyes and smiled like a cat whose eaten the cream. He lick his lips lightly before really focusing on Hakuba’s face. His eyes were dark with longing and want.

Oh. He liked that expression. Liked the way that Kaito came after him, the thief chasing the detective. It took every ounce of self control to avoid tackling him right then and there, which would have been awful for several reasons. Hakuba steadied himself, reaching a hand back for the wet bar, and let out a slow, shaky breath. 

“Do you feel better now?” he asked, voice quiet, tentative, and just a tad breathless. 

by

(PRE BREAKING POINT) To catch a thief unaware was a very precarious thing, but nearly possible when the thief was attempting to not show that he was, in fact, a thief. Hakuba waited until they were alone in the classroom in that late afternoon to creep up behind him, arms out like a predatory bird might spread its wings before diving, and lunged! Not to hurt Kaito, of course, but to attempt to wrap his arms around the other and lift him off of the floor. “GOTCHA!”

themoonlightthief:

He probably should’ve noticed, somehow, what the detective was up to and he most likely would have – or perhaps that’s just what he was trying to tell himself – had he not been too tired from an entire day of school along with the previous night’s planning for his next heist to pay attention.

As it was, all he could do was let out a surprised yelp as he felt arms circle around him and lift him off of the floor. 

“O-oi! Ha-Hakuba!” He laughed, then, twisting in the detective’s hold, hands grasping onto the blond’s arms and head turning to look at the other with eyes practically shining with mirth as he attempted to wiggle loose. “What are you even—!”

“Why, capturing you, of course!” It was the simplest answer, really, and Kaito turning only made it easier to get him maneuvered around to toss him over his shoulder, grasping onto his legs to keep him there as he carried him away, over toward the window. 

“Have you ever been tossed out of a window before?" 

…he would never actually go through with the veiled threat, and the windows were closed anyway, but it was a good question nonetheless and the detective found himself curious. 

by

Blond Humbug

December 24th, Last Year

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“Oh, hullo Jones! Happy Christmas!”

“Happy… merry… Christmas to you, too, Saguru. Look, I’m sorry to interrupt your holiday, but–”

Hakuba laughed, stretching out his free arm before glancing at his wrist watch. “You’re not really interrupting anything. There’s still seventy-four minutes, fifteen seconds until we’re to leave for my grandmum’s, and I’m already packed.”

“That’s good to hear, but–”

“Sincerely, Jones, all that I’m doing is lying underneath the piano, waiting for everyone else.”

There was an awkward pause. “Under the piano?”

“Yes. Of course.” Hakuba closed his eyes, amused and content as if his actions were the most normal thing in all the world. “It’s a Steinway D-274, you know. Absolutely gorgeous instrument. Such wonderful sound.”

Another pause, this one while Jones scratched his head. “What… are you talking about?”

“The piano. My mum’s piano.”

“…right, anyway, the reason I’m calling is because I got some reports and some very interesting photos of you from last week that I wanted to discuss.”

The hesitation, this time, was on Hakuba’s end. “Photographs?" 

"Yes. Of you. With someone. In an alleyway.”

“Uh…" 

"Care to tell me what that was all about, favorite client of mine?”

“It’s… are you certain it was me?”

Jones laughed. “How many six foot tall half-brit blond teenagers do you know in Japan?”

“I can explain.”

“You’d better.”

“It’s not what it looks like!”

“Really? Because it looked like you were making out with–”

“N-no! It.. uh, it… it was for a case!”

“Forgive me if I’m a little skeptical. I’m well aware that you’re quite the lady’s man at parties, but a dimly lit alleyway in the city?”

Hakuba sighed, grimacing, and ran a hand through his hair. “It was my classmate… look, it happened like this…" 

One Week Earlier…

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There was snow on the ground, but it wasn’t quite the thick blanket that the detective had come to expect during the time of year. The garden at the estate in London was probably under half a foot of snow at least, not a light dusting like in Ekoda. Ah well, at least the winter chill permitted Hakuba to wear his burberry scarf and milford coat, both of which he loved. 

He also loved the fact that he was going home for the holiday the following afternoon, four days early, escaping the tyranny of the godless Japanese school system. Soon, he’d be home with his mother, able to enjoy Christmas shopping at Covent Garden, eating fish and chips under the very traditional Christmas decorations, trees all around and… god, he couldn’t wait! 

But he had to wait, because there were errands still to run. For school. 

Hakuba glanced over to his walking companion, one Kuroba Kaito, classmate and the prime suspect for the case he’d been working on for the past fifteen months. Despite countless confrontations, though, Kaito hadn’t budged on the fact that he was Kaitou KID. Needless to say, even having backed off after the whole Nightmare disaster, the two still didn’t get along very well.

Though, it wasn’t as if Hakuba made much effort to lessen the tension…

"Just look at these storefronts,” he muttered, fumbling for the mittens in his coat pockets. “Proclaiming Christmas despite not even really knowing what it’s about, turning it from a familial holiday to one of romance? Ridiculous. And these decorations…” He shook his head. “It’s almost as if the Japanese don’t know what Santa Claus even really looks like!”

He was chattering because he was cold and because Kaito was quiet. Forced by their class rep to pick up the supplies for the Christmas party – “Which I won’t even be here for!” – found the pair in the downtown shopping district. Snow fell in quiet, sporadic showers, though the brit reasoned it was more of a ghostly misting than a true snowfall. Typical. 

“Tell me, Kuroba-kun, do you celebrate Christmas? And I mean in the traditional sense, not in the made up ‘lover’s holiday’ sort of way." 

Yes, Hakuba Saguru was in rare form that night. Although his criticism was normal, the blatant distaste for the Eastern half of his heritage was not something that he so often discussed openly, much less actually felt. Alas, soapboxing was a dangerous sport… 

by

Who writes long posts? ME

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Who owes like thirty replies? ME

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Who is the worst at getting their drafts done? ME

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Not to mention all of the kisses for Kaitous and Shinichis and Heijis and…

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*weeping in the corner* I’m so sorry

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

“Yes.” He said simply to the only question asked. If there was anyone who need to be questioning his worth it was him. He was a criminal, yeah he supposedly gives back everything he steals but he was still a criminal. He also came from a middle class home what could he offer him? He already had a roof and security. Food and clothing. Any thing he could ask for.

He felt like someone in a cheesy romance novel where the penniless hero would say: ‘The only thing I can offer you is my undying love and devotion. Would you please accept me?’ but this was reality and it had a way of turning things cruel. People as much as they wanted couldn’t just live off of dreams ….

But he wanted to dream. Wanted that small piece of a fairy-tale just he could hold on to it when everything turned sour. So he would continue to toss his heart out to the wind and swallow the pain just like a pill and hope.

Unaware of Kaito’s internal torment, Hakuba slowly raised his head at the answer, frown fixed in place as he studied him. It had been succinct and clear, but he honestly felt no less confused. Or, perhaps the clarity had made him feel even more so. He wasn’t certain. 

All the same, he pushed up from the counter and looked him over again, gaze calculating as he wondered… He now had permission, and it wasn’t as if they hadn’t kissed before, yet he still felt cold tangles of fear and pressure that rooted him in place. It mattered too much, and he wanted it too badly. 

But, looking at it objectively, there were two factors at work, and Hakuba considered them for a time as he pushed the bottle opener toward Kaito. On the one hand, there was a very high likelihood that he was leaving Japan for England – permanently – and starting something like this was ill-advised for a myriad of reasons, not the least of which was the chance of utter heartbreak. On the other hand, he was already heartbroken, and rejection seemed to be, at least for the moment, off the table. 

And if he was leaving, what better opportunity to take the risk?

Pursing his lips a moment, Hakuba glanced toward the doorway, mentally tabulating the number of people currently in the house, cross-referencing the date and time with their likely positions and tasks, and the chance that there would be an interruption. If he listened carefully, he would most likely hear someone approaching within four seconds. That didn’t leave for a very wide margin for error, but it was something, and he needed to salvage what he could while he was able. 

Hakuba took a deep breath and stepped back around the counter, the red in his cheeks fading somewhat as his resolve took over. He was determined, now, which trumped most everything else, and it showed in his posture, his stride, and the way that he lifted his hand to Kaito’s chin with none of the previous trembling. Closing the gap between them, he tilted his head, gave one last glance to Kaito’s eyes to verify, then leaned in to kiss him. 

It was very simple, but certainly not platonic; three caresses in total with a warm and constant connection. He then parted slowly, silently, eyes half-closed as he watched for whatever reaction was to come, be it desire or hoarfrost. 

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newo-xo: yajifun: charlietimms: Zheng Chunhui, a famous Chinese wood carver spent 4 years engineering this master piece from a single tree. Based on a famous Chinese painting “Along the River During the Quingming Festival” the carving echoes the daily life of the 12th century Chinese local. The level of detail is stunning! 清明上河圖　鄭春輝 SWEET JESUS THIS […]

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

He froze and blinked. He felt him leave his grasp and the sudden thoughts of him not being good enough rattled him. His arms fell and hung by his sides. Thank Gods for his poker face and quick training. Everything was slammed back and down with a short laugh and a smile. 

“Sure.” He replied easily.

Hakuba had said he liked him and even agreed to how but …. Kaito turned and watched the yard out side the window. The stillness of the night and the simplicity of it. Everything the detective reacted like was not the way he excepted. He almost regretted …. No he could never regret that brief kiss he stole but he had damaged their already brittle friendship then he would have to suffer the consequences and stop wishing for something that probably wasn’t there. At least not truly.
He looked back to the detective and resolved that he wasn’t going to touch him unless Hakuba did first least he completely destroy each each other.

Hakuba busied himself getting the cork remover out of the drawer, setting it on the counter with a huff. He knew that he’d mucked it up again. How many times had this been? But his nerves were so shot and he’d thought that they were going to table all of this for later, because it was all wrapped up together and how could he possibly separate one from the other and– and– ??

The detective finally gave an exaggerated sigh, leaning down to rest his forehead on the counter, arms folding over the back of his neck in defeat. “Kuroba-kun,” he muttered, voice muffled by the polished surface. “You couldn’t have picked a worse person to fall for, honestly, my god I’m so incredibly awkward and…”

He sighed again. And then a third time. 

“Am I even allowed to kiss you?” Hakuba said, feeling as though he were asking the most ridiculous question ever in the world. He gave a moan of despair, then furiously scrubbed at the back of his hair with his fingers, wishing for all the world that he could hide. 

“MY GOD I’m usually so much better at this…!" 

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

He felt him tremble and gripped the cloth of his jacket. When he felt his hands rub over his shoulders he shivered in both pleasure and a sudden spike of fear. His back was … to combat the nerves he pressed himself against the other, lifted his head to his name, and stared up into Hakuba’s face. “Yes?”

Before Hakuba let himself do anything else, he leaned forward, expression one of near panic as he – kissed the end of Kaito’s nose. He was just so nervous! He pulled back afterward, so ashamed, and reached for the bottle of wine. “MyGODweneedtogetthisopen here you do the honors I’ve a bottle opener somewhere and the, ah, glasses are here, yes, let’s… we can toast, even, if you like…”

He finally took a breath, attempting to pull out of Kaito’s grasp to escape around the other side of the wet bar’s counter.