smokebombsandmirrors:
Kaito stood where he was left. Hands still lifted, mouth slightly parted, and his body burning. He let his hands fall and slid down the brick behind him. Crouched in a small ball he held his knees. He whole body seemed to flush in embarrassment at his actions. He didn’t want it to stop and when the detective jerked back it stung.
He had never seen recoil from some one after he kissed them before and Hakuba looked like he was ready to flee in spades. The apology was new and that hurt worse it just made everything out to be a mistake. He lifted his he to the sky and watched the grey clouds. This was a mistake. He definitely should have punch his lights out and dumped him in the dumpster, Burberry and all.
The scarf felt like a noose now as it hung around his neck. Hesitantly he lowered his nose to it. Hakuba scent filled him and he could almost feel those lips against his again. That achy need came back.
He leaped up. Horrified at the realization that he wanted Hakuba and bad. Snatching up all of the bags, even the ones Hakuba had left when he fled back to the classroom.
I don’t like him. I do not like him. I DON’T LIKE HIM. I REALLY DON’T LIKE HIM!
“I DON’T LIKE HIM!” He shouted.
He practically tore the door off the track when he got back. Shoving the bags into whoever was closest he went back to his desk and buried his head into his arms and ignored the scent surrounding him like gentle arms.
December 24th, Last Year (“You’re the Worst, Charlie Brown Saguru Hakuba”)
“You kissed this boy, then ran off. What about the school supplies?”
“Ah, I… left them with him. I feel awful about it, but I had to leave. How could I face him after that?”
Jones drank his coffee. It was bitter, just like his career. “I don’t know. Leaving him without any explanation seems, you know, not really fruit basket worthy.”
“I don’t need a fruit basket, Jones.”
“I know you don’t, Saguru. But what do you want me to do? I have photos of you kissing someone in an alleyway."
Hakuba puffed out a breath, rolling onto his side and into one of the legs of the piano. Ow. It was difficult to maneuver in a full suit on the carpet. "Does anything really need to be done? The paparazzi already believes that I have half a dozen girlfriends, doesn’t it?”
“You don’t, do you?”
“Well, no. I don’t have anyone.”
“So you want to do nothing.”
“I don’t want to bother Kuroba-kun about it.” Hakuba untangled himself from the piano and crawled out from under it, dragging himself to his feet. “It’s only a potential problem, anyway. They’re probably giving idle threats; what can they even do with the story? Also, send the photos over, I want to see them.”
“So if anyone asks, the official word from your representation is… what, ‘my client may or may not have been kissing someone in an alleyway the other night and it may or may not have been consensual’?"
"Surely you can do better than that.”
“You do realize that it’s Christmas, right?”
Hakuba glanced at his watch. “You are up late, aren’t you?”
“Gee, I wonder why.”
“I’ll double your Christmas bonus, Jones. I’ll arrange a transfer the moment the banks are open again.” The detective fixed his suit, then slid onto the piano bench. “If the axe falls on my neck, I will take responsibility for it. Just leave Kuroba-kun out of it.”
“I can keep his name out, sure, but who knows if anyone recognized him. Someone definitely recognized you."
"So what? I have photos taken of me every day.” A pause. “Or… so I assume… And NOT just because I’m a foreigner!”
“Right, yes, I know, you’re a talented, rich, handsome young detective, blah blah blah.” Jones had to laugh. It was all true, sure; that’s why he’d taken Hakuba on as his client, but even so…
Hakuba carefully lifted the lid off of the keys and set the phone down, running fingers through his hair to fix it. “I’m going to start playing Nutcracker now.”
“What? Saguru, we’re not finished."
"Can’t hear you, playing.”
Indeed, the sound of Tchaikovsky began, beginning with Waltz of the Flowers.
“Saguru. You can’t just play the piano and expect the problem to go away.”
“I could get out my violin. I have it here, you know. It’s a beautiful instrument, too, though nothing compared to this…” His hands moved across the keyboard, teasing out every note with deliberate care.
“Please tell me that you’ve at least apologized to Kuroba-kun.”
“I… have.”
“Really?”
“Sort of.”
Jones pressed a palm to his face and groaned, sinking back into his office chair. “Explain.”
“I bought him a gift and left it on his doorstep.”
“That’s an apology?”
“It was very sweet! I went out right away and purchased that red scarf he wanted. Had it wrapped up and wrote ‘Happy Christmas’ on the tag, with ‘I’m Sorry’ on the back. That counts, doesn’t it?”
“GOD you’re hopeless!”
Hakuba frowned and the music stopped. “I thought it was nice.”
“And what about your burberry?”
“Ah… well… … … … … I assume he still has it if he hasn’t thrown it out or set it on fire by now.”
“Your self-confidence confuses me, Saguru. One minute, you’re touting that you’re so sweet and generous and what not, the next, you’re convinced that he’s murdered your scarf.”
Hakuba dropped his voice to a whisper. “Scarf-slaughter. Oh, the cashmere. Such a crime. It was so lovely, so young… it will be missed.”
“Unbelievable. How do you take yourself seriously?”
“I don’t."
”…right.“
The detective began to play again, picking up right where he left off. "In any case, I’m dreadfully sorry for causing you so much work. I will double your bonus, and I promise to be more careful, and to speak to Kuroba-kun when I return to Japan. Or, perhaps I’ll send him an email.”
“Please don’t add ‘coward’ to your list of crimes, Saguru.”
“Ha. Ha. Happy Christmas, Jones.”
“Happy Christmas, Saguru. I guess that means we’re about wrapped up here.”
“Yes.” A pause. “But do send those photos my way, please.”
“You’re not going to ogle them, are you?”
“Heavens no! I’ll be burning them into my mind as a portrait of shame and punishment so that I shall never repeat the mistake again.”
So dramatic. Jones both loved and hated that about him. “I’ll send them once we’re off the phone.”
“Excellent. Thank you.”
“Oh, and Saguru, one more thing…”
“Yes?”
“I find it ironic that you got into this mess because you don’t want to acknowledge that Christmas is a lover’s holiday here, and yet you ended up kissing your crush as a direct result…”
Hakuba’s fingers hit the wrong keys and for a moment, the music turned into some nightmarish horror before he could right it, which he did quickly. “Jones.”
“Yes?”
“Sod off. Go, enjoy the holiday. Get some sleep. I have a party to get ready for.”
“Fine, fine, Saguru. Have a good break.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“…and do be careful.”
“I always am.” A pause. “Except that once."
