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“Okay! That’s it!! I called you because you are the only person I have. The only one I can trust. I’m sorry that it was so late. I’m sorry that I inconvenienced you but DAMN IT I need you.” He shouted and yanked the door open. Warm air blasted him in the face and he walked into the concrete room. Opening the steel door he welcome the flames licks and tossed the bag inside. As it burn the door was closed and he went back to Hakuba. 

“I need you … ” Kaito said again tired. Covering his the side of his face with his hand.  "I’m tired.“

He began to head back up stairs towards the living room. Just before exiting the room he turned back to Hakuba. “I’m sorry, thank you. There’s a guest bedroom up stairs if you want to use that.”

I need you.

Hakuba felt the words long before he heard them, realized what Kuroba was trying to say. It was as if the heat from the incinerator tore through him, too, stealing his breath and his thoughts, and everything else all at once. The detective was left staring at the other boy, mouth open in speechless surprise. 

Apologies, confessions, vulnerabilities… It took a few seconds for Hakuba to remember that none of this was a dream. It was real, and Kuroba was drunk off his ass and in pain. Emotions ran close to the surface in tumultuous waters; they’d nearly knocked Hakuba over. 

He watched helplessly as Kuroba walked past him, started up the stairs, trying to sort out in his mind what he was supposed to do with all of this feeling that overwhelmed him. Finally, a few seconds later, he gave a nod, following after. "Y-yes… thank you, Kuroba-kun, that would be appreciated.”

What should he say about the rest of it? Anything? Nothing? He felt so entirely lost. Everything was changing. 

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He looked back at Hakuba then turned away and open the door. The small room broke off into two more rooms, a small bathroom and a darker one with a large iron door that said: caution: HIGH TEMPEATURE.

“There’s an incinerator through here. Its still a bit warm so hand me the stuff that needs to disappear and I’ll put it in” He said and held out his hand for the bloody instruments.

Hakuba offered the bag of rubbish that he’d gathered, frown fixed on his face though he was relieved that there was such a simple and effective solution to their problem. “Thank you,” he said, then pursed his lips in a bit of a pout. “You know, if those stitches pop, I’ll be convinced that you don’t even care that I got out of bed at god-even-knows-what-time-in-the-morning-it is, drove all the way over here without even properly getting dressed, to work on you… honestly, Kuroba-kun…”

Hands free, he leaned against the wall, feeling everything weigh on him again- not the least of which being the drowsiness. 

“I’m so tired I can’t even recall the time… let’s get you to bed as soon as the evidence has been destroyed, all right?”

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“Right …” He stood gingerly and felt the world teeter a bit. Shaking his head some he manage to walk a bit. “You can bring them down here.”

He didn’t wait to see if the detective was following just started to move. He went down a small narrow hall, through an even narrower stair case to a heavy metal door. Entering a quick combination on the keypad the door lock slnck open and he limped inside. 

The whole room was inky black but Kaito knew this room well. He had practically lived down here when he first started as KID and begun training with Jii. Flipping on the light a dim almost candle like flicker began in one spot then worked its way around the room.

In the area they were standing in it looked like a small apartment. Bar/ kitchenette to the right and a small living room to the left. Book and files were every where. There were also a lot of trunks and magic paraphernalia litter about the rooms in an organized chaos. Sit on the coffee table was KID hat, cape and monocle along with a black harness and Kaito’s traditional card gun.

Kaito moved towards the door near the kitchen and went through.

“Ah- K-Kuroba-kun!” Hakuba followed after, stumbling past the coffee table while very nearly tripping over his own bag of supplies in the process. They’d moved too quickly and the wine rattled his head, but he was determined to keep up, struggling to memorize the layout of the house in the process. 

When they got to the main room in the basement, Hakuba found himself stopped, looking around with wide, curious eyes. “What is this… place?” he asked, not realizing that Kaito had continued on until after, shaking his head to clear it as he returned to his pursuit. 

“Didn’t I tell you, not five minutes ago – actually, three minutes, seventeen seconds.. something.. … something, anyway – I told you to go easy on your leg, or you’ll pop the stitches, Kuroba-kun!”

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There was a slight twitch from his thigh. A simple reaction from not being touched in so long. Kaito glanced at him briefly then looked back to the wall but for the most part there was hardly a reaction. If Hakuba held him in the same place as those he randomly helped then that was an answer for Kaito.

Friends? No they couldn’t even be called that. They were acquaintances at best or on that teetering edge of being polite or comfortable. It was unbearable. Especially after wanting this for a couple of years now. Closing his eyes he struggled to accept his fate and loss but … 

He liked him.

Once the bandage was deemed acceptable and his work done, Hakuba pulled back to clean up the supplies on the coffee table. “You’ll be all right… but I want you to be careful with your leg for a couple of days. Please don’t tear the stitches- I’m not a cosmetic surgeon. Actually, I’m not a surgeon at all, and I’m assuming that you don’t wish to go to the hospital…”

He laughed, then, tiredly, and pushed the rest of his supplies- sans trash -into the duffel. “Where can I dispose of this, incidentally? I don’t particularly think that my having your blood in my things would be helpful for preserving your identity…" 

When he glanced back to wait for the answer, he frowned. Kuroba really did look miserable… hiding it or not, it felt wrong. The detective reached a hand for his shoulder, gently laying it there. 

"It’s all right…”

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He froze then slowly moved back to lean against the couch.

“Right … it could have been anyone and you would have come them.” He smiled at him. It was off not quiet a smile and not quiet a grimace. With his poker face back in place he watched the opposite wall and waited for Hakuba to finish.

“That’s… true.”  Hakuba heaved a sigh once Kaito was once again resting, turning to get the sutures ready for sewing. The change in the atmosphere was quite obvious- he thought that even someone as dense as Hattori Heiji would have noticed.

He didn’t know what to do about it, though. Kuroba had been acting so oddly… it baffled him. But with the lingering effects of alcohol and the adrenaline slowly beginning to give way to his body’s exhaustion, the detective kept focused on the work at hand. He could deal with the emotional later. 

His hands worked quickly, threading the needle in and out of the skin, tucking it together under tiny, neat stitches. He cared for Kuroba; far more than he’d admit, but to imagine that those feelings might be returned…? No. No, certainly not. Ridiculous. 

The entire procedure only lasted a few minutes; Hakuba was good at getting this sort of thing done in a timely manner. Soon he was applying a bandage over the spot, fingerpads massaging it gently over Kaito’s thigh to keep the seal in place. 

“Just about done…" 

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Kaito didn’t flinch or make a sound as Hakuba worked on him. At first he watched the mans hands. Precise, control, gentle yet firm. His eyes lifted from the hand to the others face. He was worried that much had shown through. That was touching. Gently he leaned over as to not disturb the others work and laid his forehead against the blonde hair and wrapped his arms loosely around the others neck.

“Thank you for being here.”

It was almost unsettling to have Kuroba so willing to touch him. Hakuba’s cheeks betrayed his feelings on the matter, but he continued to work, despite, moving back and forth between the wound and the table beside him to switch out supplies. Out came a packaged needle, which he tore open with his teeth and pulled in a carefully measured amount of liquid from a tiny bottle, leaning over his leg to administer the shot.

“Local anesthetic- a small pinching sensation, perhaps a burn, and it’ll ease the pain…” he explained, pushing the syringe and plunger in, then pulled back to cap it, setting it aside. He returned with cotton swabs, but the cleanup that time only took a few seconds.

Then, while waiting for the anesthetic to kick in, he carefully turned his head to look down at Kaito. “I wouldn’t ignore a cry for help, Kuroba-kun… just who do you think that I am, anyway?”

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Kaito looked up at him. The tears were shining in the light. He felt so conflicted and confused. He nodded his head and leaned back against the couch cushions. Hakuba had stayed, that had changed everything for him. He didn’t lose him, he still had a chance to end the loneliness he felt.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured softly. The tears threatened to spill over. There was just too much. He was like a raw nerve. All bundled up and pull as tight as he could go.  

Hakuba shook his head, embarrassed by the emotional scene before him. It was worrying, too; Kaito was normally so good at hiding his feelings, but here he was, nearly shattered. “It’s all right; you’re just very… drunk. Things will be better in the morning.” Surely, it was just the drink talking. Just the drink crying.

The detective set to work cleaning the wound, swabbing the puncture site as carefully as he could while still being effective. It was a delicate balancing act, but something that he had a lot of experience with. He just hoped that Kaito wouldn’t scream; this part always hurt the most.

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He pouted as he handed the bottle over. “I’ve never had a hangover in my life, thank you. Wait …. Haven’t been home? You mean you never left?”

Multiple expression came across his face all at once. Anger, confusion, embarrassment, joy then finally something soft and personal. “You came to the heist. I thought you ….” he bowed his head and sat promptly on the couch and buried his face in his hands. “Never want to …”

The reaction startled him, confused him. Had he said something wrong?

Or… right, perhaps?  

“No, I haven’t left, and yes, I was at the heist. Of course I went to the heist." Hakuba shook his head, taking the bottle, and set it behind him on the table. "I said that my priorities changed, not that I wouldn’t participate at all." 

He bent to riffle through the duffel, pulling out a bottle of water, an astringent, cotton swabs, and gauze, laying out the supplies on the table next to him. 

"It’s all right… everything is going to be fine, Kuroba-kun. Just let me take care of it." 

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He held up the bottle of Jack at the last question. “Don’t have much in the ways of pain stuff” He huffed and narrowly missed bashing his bad thigh with the bottle when he moved his arms dramatically it sit his hands on his  narrow waist. “What do you mean? It takes 13 hours to get to Tokyo from London.”

Hakuba set the duffel bag down on the floor and took a seat on the coffee table once he knew it was steady. “Yes, from London, but I haven’t bee home in months, Kuroba-kun. Let me see your leg- and, give me that bottle; you don’t need any more alcohol right now." 

He reached for the bottle, brows furrowed. "Honestly… since you’ve had so much, I can’t give you anything but a shot of local anesthetic. I won’t envy your hangover, either. Have you at least had something to eat? Water?"