Tag Archives: smokebombsandmirrors

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

Kaito blinked at him and bite the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hide his laughter. It wasn’t working as well as he wanted. Covering his face he felt the laugh sneak out of him. He place the drink down with a clatter and leaned over the counter with his head rest on it. His arms wrapped around his face as he shook with silent laughter. 

As with every other time this had happened to him – and it really did happen far more often than he’d care to admit – Hakuba stared in confusion. Was Kaito laughing at his toast? At his admission of fantasies? Or just at him in general? He held the wine glass carefully, not willing to set it down just in case Kaito’s laughter erupted in some sort of violent flailing, befitting of a class clown, and let his expression settle into an offended frown. 

“Ah… hey now… you stop that, Kuroba-kun. In the last hour, you’ve accused me of poisoning you, gotten mad at me for trying to protect you, and… and kissed me, and then… again, so you…!”  Hakuba gave an exasperated huff, mouth curving into a full-on pout. “Please do explain why you’re now laughing at me." 

by

Blond Humbug

smokebombsandmirrors:

Red faced Kaito glared at him. “Jerk.”

He pushed away from the glass and hurried down the side walk. Not everyone was rich and could afford nice clothes. He clenched the bags of stuff in his hurting hands and tried to bury himself deeper in his useless coat. He felt so … inadequate standing near the other. Like a pauper and a prince. A prince with a chauvinistic pig like attitude and little care for the little middle class thief walking beside him. Not that he knew he was a thief. That wasn’t the point here. No, the point he was trying to establish was that Hakuba was a jerk.

“…Jerk?" Hakuba was stunned, staring, and it took him a moment to realize that Kaito had left. "Ah- hey! Kuroba-kun! Wait for me!”

The detective scurried after the thief, lips pressed in a frown. He had to sort of shuffle to keep hold of everything in his arms while keeping his hands in the warmth of his pockets. He hadn’t meant to offend Kaito, though as he chased after, it sort of dawned on him that perhaps he had.

“Ah, apologies, I hadn’t meant to sound so critical, it’s just that burberry is… well, it’s, cashmere! You know what I mean?" 

Because that really fixes anything, right? 

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

Kaito straightened with the glasses and smiled at him. “I’m the same way. I feel as if I’m going to wake from another dream and you tell me this was all a joke.”

He tipped the glasses and pour the burgundy liquid into both. Setting the bottle down he offered one to the detective. 

Taking the glass, both sheepish from his own admission of insecurity, and feeling admittedly touched by Kaito’s own. “Well…” Hakuba said, lifting the glass to take in the bouquet, swirling the dark liquid around ever so gently. “I can assure you that this is no dream, nor a joke, unless it’s one of my fantasies.”

He stole a glance at Kaito then, smile hopeful and growing broader despite his embarrassment. 

“I’d say we should toast to dreams come true, but I think something along the lines of…”  He couldn’t say first kisses, technically, could he? Hakuba glanced up at the ceiling, considering before he looked back with a triumphant grin. “Ah! Let’s toast to figuring things out!”

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

He didn’t mean to and tried so hard not but he reached for him, cupped his face, and kissed him lightly. “Yes, I’m sorry, Hakuba I’m … I’m the type that needs the reassurance, the evidence, if you will, that things, that this is real.”

He stepped away from him and picked up the cork remover and wiggled it into the top. After a few turns a loud pop made him jump slightly and chuckle. He set the wine and the remover down and leaned over the bar to grab the glasses.

Another kiss… Hakuba watched him as he swept away, taking care of the wine as requested, and came to lean on the counter with both hands. It was an interesting situation that they’d found themselves in, and though he was yet unaware of repercussions this might all have, he couldn’t deny how elated he felt, and how deeply he was falling all over again.

The insecurity was a little surprising, but only a little bit. He offered a sympathetic smile, though, smirk quirking at the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry. I think I know exactly how you feel. It all just seems so unfathomable… like I’m just waiting for you to confess that you’re just teasing me." He looked away, sheepish. "Not that you would really do that, it’s just…”

by

Blond Humbug

smokebombsandmirrors:

He jumped back from the window as if it bite him and slammed into the other back. He felt his breath hitch and froze before he jumped and slipped on ice. He caught himself against the glass and just glared at red faced. He had been caught indulging in a moment of fantasy. Turning so his back wasn’t to there other he just hung his head embarrassed beyond belief.

That was enough confirmation for Hakuba, who simply looked at him, body unmoving against the bump of the other, though he reached out a hand to help steady him. Ice was something that he was used to, so he did the action without a second thought, so distracted by the object of Kaito’s attention. 

He leaned closer still, eyes narrowing as he inspected it. “Hmm…” he said, putting on his critical gaze. “It’s no burberry, but it does seem like it’s a fine enough scarf, yes…” Without thinking about it, he used his free hand to stroke the cashmere around his neck fondly. He had to admit that the color was very nice; Kaito had good taste.

“But then, nothing compares to burberry, does it?" 

by

Blond Humbug

smokebombsandmirrors:

Kaito sniffed and prayed he wasn’t getting sick. “Well, I usually spend Christmas alone.”

That was how it had been for the past five or seven years. At least when his mother started travelling more. It was hard those first years but he finally got used to it. Stay at home with a small real tree with little light and even smaller amount of decorations, a homemade Christmas cake and music playing in the background. He was alone. That always struck him the most. Especially when all he had to do was look out the windows and see families cuddled together.

He hunched down even more, glanced to the side to see the shops, and slowed to a stop. It was the red that caught is eye. A deep red scarf was wrapped around a mannequins neck and fluttered down near its waist. The price was way out of his reach though and all he could do was imagine what it would look like on him. Sighing he shivered against the cold and stared at it longingly. 

The answer surprised him. Hakuba frowned, taken aback, and didn’t say anything for a moment, particularly when Kaito came to a halt in front of the next window. Awkwardly, he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to come up with something to offer that would make it better, but he wasn’t having much success.

“Ah, well, I suppose… ah…”  Part of him wanted to invite Kaito to come home with him. He was certain that there could be accommodations made, that his mother would be more than happy to have a guest, and that it would make the holiday much more enjoyable for his classmate. But then, Hakuba also knew that there was no way he could ever convince Kaito to go with him.

…besides, what they’d been saying in class was true. The rumors and little teasing whispers. He did have a thing for Kuroba, and it was against his policy to date classmates, or act on crushes, or anything of that ilk, so it was completely out of the question. Besides, Kaitou KID. 

His thoughts derailed, however, as his gaze settled on the item that Kaito was so focused on. “Hm… are you looking at that scarf?” Hakuba asked, leaning over him to get a better look, brushing against his shoulder. 

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

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

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.