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For a minute he thought he was going to get kissed. So when Hakuba pulled away from him he blinked rapidly for a moment as if coming out from under a spell. He sighed and tried to understand what the pain he felt meant.

“I, in fact rarely ever drink. Last night was … was …a lapse.” He huffed and retreated a bit so he could face the detective. “I’ve never really had a lot of wine and most of it has been the cheap stuff.”

“I’ll have to have you come over one of these days; we have a collection at the house… though…”  Hakuba shifted on the bed, pulling a leg up onto it with hands on ankle, looking at him more directly. “If you don’t drink often, why were you drinking last night? I assume it was for the pain, but… you would be drinking nearly every heist, wouldn’t it?" 

It was a tease, and he hoped that it would lighten the air. 

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He shifted his head back to finally look at the detective. He wasn’t expecting him to be as close as he was. As his nose brushed against Hakuba’s he could feel the other breath ghosting over his face in calm breaths. He swallow and what ever he was going to say slipped right on out the window.

Along with his sanity. He waved goodbye at it mentally. 

Likewise, Hakuba’s thoughts fled him temporarily as he found himself staring right into Kaito’s eyes, so very, very close. He held still, not even daring to breathe as he felt his face flare up with heat. Oh. All that he would have to do is tilt his head ever so slightly and lean forward to kiss him. It wouldn’t be difficult. It might even be excused. And oh, did he want to! 

But this had been a desire for a very long time. Being attracted to Kuroba Kaito was nothing new; a temptation that he had resisted before. He studied his eyes for a moment longer, then pulled back, lips curving into a small smirk.

“Wine. I had a lovely red wine last night – a common, but delicious Mourvédre. It almost kept me from the heist.” He laughed. “Regardless, I’ll try to help curb your drinking.”

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Kaito didn’t even look out from behind the covers simply leaned over against him and rested his head on the other’s shoulder. “Why don’t we make an agreement that I never drink Whiskey again? I’m still all messed up.” He pouted and glared at the wall. 

Hakuba inclined his head, glancing down at Kaito and lifted his brows, equal parts skeptical and amused. “I think that may be a fair agreement, though I can’t really police your actions…” The detective smirked, and nudged Kaito’s head with his nose, playfully. “Scotch is better, anyway, though.”

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“Hold me.” Was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Whining again he covered his face in his hands. “NOT! Damn it!! That came out all weird!! I meant ….” He sighed and gave up. That was what he want in the most innocent way possible. “Just sit here a while. Everything still feels like dream to me and I’m so afraid that I’m going to wake up and find out it is.”

The detective hesitated, recalling how just minutes before this same person had been in near shambles on the kitchen floor. The roller coaster of emotions hadn’t stopped at any point in their recent interactions, and Hakuba had to wonder just how shattered his thief had become. Not that he was terribly surprised; watching him day after day in class had painted a despairing portrait of disguised misery. Still, it hurt no less to watch him writhe underneath the pokerface. 

“All right,” he finally said, and pulled himself away from the door, quietly padding across the room and to the bed. Hakuba hadn’t reacted outwardly to Kaito’s first request, but he chose to sit close to him, anyway, feet on the floor perched on the edge of the bed .“Is this adequate?”

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“Yes? No … I don’t know. I’m so confused right now.” He whined and slowly turned to face him. He was still cherry red and when he moved the blanket slipped off his head and shoulders. 

The detective laughed, and it was awkward and amused and all together helpless as he lifted a hand to once again rub at the side of his neck. “You’re not the only one, Kuroba-kun… everything’s been a bit unpredictable as of late, hasn’t it? Out of sorts… topsy-turvy, even." 

Hakuba directed his gaze to the floor, carding his hand through his hair after, letting the golden waves flop back into place. "What can I do, Kuroba-kun? Surely there’s something…" 

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He flinched under Hakuba’s voice. He wasn’t expecting it. NOr was he expecting it to sound so sorry. He didn’t move off the bed but sat up under the covers. “Hakuba …”

Hakuba leaned on the doorframe as he watched him, lips parted as he tried to think of what else he could say. In the end, all he could manage was a sort of half-nod before a sigh. “…This is going to sound stupid, as the answer should be obvious, but… are you all right?”

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Now he wanted to tear his hair out. He groaned he slammed his plate down onto the table and whirled on him. Reaching out he snagged the front of Hakuba’s tee and half dragged him towards him. At a hair breath from their lips touching he choked.

He went wide eyed and felt his body shake. None to gentle he laughed back from the detective and smacked a hand over his mouth. He knew he was red. He was just surprised he wasn’t red all over. A series of jumbled garbled word escaped, not all of them Japanese. Stumbling back he fled upstairs to his bedroom and hid underneath the covers.

There was a moment of confusion, another of fear, and then a whole lot of breathless staring as the whirlwind that was Kuroba Kaito fled the room. The loud sound, the rough grabbing, the almost – what was that? Almost a kiss? And then to be left like that… 

Hakuba stood still in the kitchen, only barely able to keep hold of the plate in his hands as he trembled. What was he supposed to make of that?!  Hesitantly, he turned to look toward the stairs, biting his lip as he once again considered his options. 

Before anything else, Hakuba set the food on the counter, less he let the plate slip from his fingers, and retrieved the pocket watch. Snap. Check time. Confirm with wrist watch. Snap closed. Caress the crest. Slip back in pocket. 

He wished he was wearing his suit instead of these god-awful casual clothes. He had cigarettes in his suit. It would have been such a welcome relief at this point. Was it rejection that he felt? The ache in his chest suggested as such, and he felt sick from it. Really, he needed to leave, give Kaito some space. So much had happened in so little time and clearly there were dangerous emotions running high. 

Quietly, he went up the stairs, following the path that he knew led to Kaito’s room. When he reached the door, he knocked, peeking in but not entering, posture submissive and apologetic. 

“Kuroba-kun…” he said, biting his lower lip again. “I’m sorry. I know you’re likely exhausted. Shall I leave you to rest now…?”

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He DID NOT squeaked. Blushing he turned and half glared at him. He went to open his mouth to say something and jumped again at the beep from the machine behind him. He glared at that and yanked out the food. Then turned back to Hakuba.

He voiced died on his tongue and he blushed open mouthed. Everything he wanted to say just crawled back in side and refused to return. Closing his mouth with an audible snap of teeth. He turned back to the food and replaced one of them onto its plate. Collecting both of them he moved towards him and held one out.

“Here.” He offered and watched the floor. He couldn’t look at him in the eye now or at least until he got IT out of his system. 

That was… abrupt. Hakuba frowned as he took the plate from him, taking half a step back, then another, confidence faltering. Had he pushed him too far? Somehow, he’d expected their banter to be on even ground. Fun, playful teasing like they’d sort of become accustomed to. But perhaps he’d overstepped his bounds. 

“Thank you,” he said, glancing to the table where the tea was, ignoring the anxious snake that twisted around his lungs and into his throat. It was fine. He was fine. Everything was all right. It had just been a very long night, and he definitely wasn’t hungry at all. 

After running his teeth together, Hakuba looked back to Kaito cautiously. “I won’t take much more of your time this morning; I just need to make certain that you’re going to be all right before I head out… apologies for all of the trouble thus far, Kuroba-kun. I know you’ve had a rough evening.”

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He hadn’t heard him. He was to absorbed into his thoughts. Carefully he shifted forward as something clicked into place. Resting his hands on the counter he braced against them and tried to breath.

Hakuba tilted his head, coming around the corner to look for him. “You’re not on the couch, so I assume…” He paused when he found him in the kitchen, tilting his head to regard him. Of course he wasn’t all right; Kuroba Kaito never was. How could he be with so much additional stress? It hadn’t been fair of him… none of it. 

He approached quietly, footpads soft on the dining and kitchen room floor. “Kuroba-kun?” he asked, voice quiet in gentle concern. 

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“Hai, hai.” He sighed.

Once the detective was gone he flopped over onto his side and screamed quietly into the cushions. He wanted to jump him? Hakuba? Yeah, he didn’t want the detective to leave and he had said that he didn’t want to lose him but to …. He staggered upward and rolled off the couch. He was up and on to his feet and wrapping his arms around his waist.

NO! No no no! I don’t like him like that! I just reacted to the touch! That was all! He screamed internally and looked down at his thigh. He could see Hakuba there. He could feel those gentle fingers brushing against his skin. He could also feel his want rise. 

Jumping about a foot into the air he nearly tore his hair out and paced into the kitchen. On his way he snatched the food, shifted them onto one plate and tossed them into the microwave. He shifted and closed his eyes and just stood there. Hip cocked to the side and levitating pressure off his bad thigh, hands planted onto his hips and body tense.

He was also failing in every way in forgetting his desire for one Hakuba Saguru he didn’t realize he had.

Once Hakuba reached the bottom of the stairs he leaned against the wall, taking a moment to collect himself. He was still so tired from the previous evening; all of the anxiety, the running around, the lack of sleep… Well, he’d slept, but it definitely hadn’t been enough. Really, though, it was just the emotional and mental gymnastics that they’d both been doing in the last couple of weeks. Just what had possessed him to seek Kuroba for advice, anyway? 

Not that he regretted it, but everything seemed so foreign and dreamlike, now. So very, very unreal.

The detective disposed of the material a moment later, then checked his watch and his mobile phone for messages. An alert waited for him there – a case, for later that afternoon. He sighed, adding it to his calendar application, then began the climb back up the stairs. 

“Kuroba-kun…” he called, looking for him. “Are you resting again yet?”