OH MY GOD this ended up growing waaaay beyond the 2k words I had originally intended. I'm SO sorry. But coffee shop AUs are classic, and when I realized that I hadn't written one yet, I decided I needed to rectify that immediately.

As far as warnings go, uh… SAP LIKE WHOA, shounen-ai, grammar mistakes / errors, magician&physicsmajor!Kaito (trust me, there's a reason for that), and detective&barista!Shinichi, non-Kid/non-Conan AU. (Yeah. This deviates a ridiculous amount from canon.) Pairings include Shinichi x Kaito / Kaito x Shinichi, Hakuba x Aoko, and very slightly implied Araide x Ran (which came out of absolutely nowhere, but oh well, I guess). Oh, and I almost forgot the little bit of BLfangirl!Ran I inserted, just because BLfangirl!Ran is my favorite.

Well… hope you enjoy! – Luna

Café Au Lait and Celestial Bodies

The first thing Kaito did when he saw the pretty brunet barista for the first time was spill his entire mocha latte down the front of his shirt.

In his defense, the barista hadn't been visible when Kaito had been ordering – the cheerful, perpetually smiling girl manning the cash register had taken his order – and Kaito had been focused on finishing the reading his kinematics professor had assigned. So when someone had called, "Kuroba, Kuroba," he didn't look up from the packet of papers he was holding as he picked up his drink.

"Kuroba?" the voice repeated, and Kaito mumbled an absent, "Yes, that's me," before he lifted his cup to his lips and his gaze to the barista, intent on saying a quick thank you before leaving.

And then he actually saw the barista.

And then he missed his mouth and poured his mocha latte down his shirt as his jaw literally dropped.

Because, um, wow. Had Kaito ever seen anyone that good-looking? If he had, he couldn't remember. The man had sharp, angular features, though his mouth looked soft and pink, and his eyes were the clearest shade of azure Kaito had ever encountered. His hair appeared to be somewhat styled, although there were definite cowlicks sticking up here and there, and his skin was light and flawless, sort of like porcelain or china or something.

Needless to say, Kaito gaped.

Meanwhile, the barista was eyeing him with an expression of concern (which was also quite attractive on him, Kaito's brain happily noted). He ran his fingers hesitantly through his hair, lifting his free hand to point at the growing stain steaming sadly on the front of Kaito's shirt. "Um, I could be wrong, but… I think you may be burned."

Kaito's brain decided it was a good time to inform him that not only was Barista Boy entirely gorgeous, he was also very intelligent, because Kaito was indeed burned. Quite badly.

As a result of said burn(s), Kaito let out a noise that not only sounded half-dying-cat, half-mutated-bird but was also probably also the least attractive thing he could've done.

And that was how Kaito spent his first meeting with Barista Boy sitting behind the counter with Barista Boy holding a wet towel to Kaito's chest while the chirpy register girl attempted (in vain) to get the stain out of his shirt and Kaito tried his very hardest to not blush, dissolve in a puddle of embarrassment, or begin crying.

At least he got a name out of the whole ordeal, mostly because sitting in close proximity with Barista Boy meant Barista Boy's nametag was very much visible.

Kudou.

As the (incredibly cute) customer awkwardly waved as he left, Ran leaned over to prod Shinichi on the shoulder. "So?" Her expression spelled out trouble in size three billion block letters.

"So what?" Shinichi snapped, probably too defensively (Ran's smirk widened – yes, definitely too defensively), as he turned to reach for another cup to start making the chai tea that had been ordered. "I don't know what you're trying to say."

"Oh, I think you do," Ran sang as she flounced back over to reclaim her spot at the register from a bored-looking Shiho. She glanced over one shoulder to send a shit-eating smile in his direction. "You got to spend thirty minutes seeing a very nice-looking guy topless, looking deep into his eyes, running your hands all over him –"

"Shut up," Shinichi choked, as several of the remaining customers (some of whom he unfortunately knew) turned to all give him disturbingly synchronized oh so you're that type looks. He slammed the chai tea down on the counter – Sonoko, Ran's best friend, approached with eyebrows waggling to claim her drink – and glared as hard as he could at Ran. "Just because you finally discovered BL or whatever –"

Ran silenced him with one of her patented Continue On and I Will Break Your Femur In Two looks, then beamed sunnily at the girl who had begun to stutter through her order for a hazelnut frappe. "BL addiction aside," she started, after the girl had edged away, "you were looking at him like he was the living incarnation of Sherlock Holmes."

"Um, I kind of doubt that." Yes, the man had been off-the-charts attractive, but Shinichi was fairly certain that nobody reached Holmes' level.

He thought momentarily of the guy's wide indigo eyes as he drenched himself in latte, remembering the messy spikes of his hair, the healthy, almost golden gleam to his skin, the shape of his slightly chapped lips as his mouth fell open. And the smooth, well-defined contours of his chest and abs.

Fairly certain.

"You weren't the one watching the whole thing," Ran insisted before she propped herself up on one elbow and faced him seriously. "But seriously, Shinichi. What are you going to do?"

"Maybe just think 'Oh, that guy was really good-looking,' and move on with my life?"

Lifting her eyes to the ceiling, presumably to pray for patience, Ran corrected slowly, "I mean if he comes in again, Shinichi. What are you going to do then?"

Shinichi scoffed, rolling his eyes. "As if he'd ever come back to a café he publicly humiliated himself at." Though Shinichi honestly thought the whole clumsy spilling-his-drink-down-the-front-of-his-shirt thing was possibly the most adorable thing he'd ever witnessed.

"Like I said, you weren't the one watching the whole thing," Ran muttered. "He was staring at you like you were Takano and he was Ritsu."

"What?"

"Never mind."

Ignoring Ran's mutterings – he had a feeling he probably didn't want to know what she was talking about – Shinichi glanced down at his hands. Well, at least he knew the guy's name. He thought back to the name written on the cup in Ran's neat handwriting.

Kuroba.

"I spilled my entire latte down my shirt," Kaito wailed into the phone.

On the other end of the line, there was silence, and then Aoko heaved a sigh of long-suffering. "Kaito," she began, very carefully and in her best kindergarten teacher voice, "please stop, take a deep breath, and tell me what exactly you're talking about."

Kaito did as she told, though the breath he took probably qualified as shallow rather than deep. He glanced around the park bench he was sitting on – nobody seemed to be paying attention to him, though one elderly lady who had been feeding some pigeons looked at him a little askance, probably because his shirt had a gigantic stain on it. "So you know that little café right off campus? The one next to the flower shop?"

"Uh…" Aoko paused. "Oh, right. It's called 'Poirot' or something, right?"

"Right. So I went there for the first time today after my lecture, and there was this really nice-looking barista there."

"Okay."

"Like, a really attractive barista. He was, like, a thirty seven on a scale of one to ten. He was that attractive. He was about thirty million times more attractive than your stupid boyfriend. Oh wait, that's pretty easy to accomplish. Maybe eighty trillion times more attractive."

"Is there a point to this, or did you just call to bash Hakuba-kun?"

"Give me a second. Well, anyway, I ordered a mocha latte, and when I went to pick it up, he was standing there."

There was a pause, during which Kaito panted loudly (mostly for effect) and Aoko sat in silence.

"…Are you going to continue or what?"

"I'm getting there," Kaito hissed, then composed himself. "And I was so surprised that he was so, y'know, attractive that I poured my entire mocha latte down the front of my shirt."

Another silence.

"Are you done yet?"

"Shh. And then, because I got burned by hot coffee, Barista Boy ended up treating my burn behind the counter for thirty minutes."

For a moment, Aoko didn't say anything, then, "Are you okay?"

"Huh?"

"Are you physically injured?"

"Er… well, maybe a little, but I'm fine –"

"Good to hear. I'm hanging up now."

Kaito gave a gasp of horror. "And you're supposed to be my best friend," he sobbed, cradling his phone to his cheek, and Aoko groaned loudly.

"I am your best friend, Kaito. Just not when you call me to melodramatically sob over some guy you embarrassed yourself in front of. That's when you go to Akako-chan."

"Are you kidding? All her solutions involve some form of extortion, kidnapping, or murder."

"Well then," Aoko huffed, and Kaito suddenly had an idea as to why she was so snippy, "I guess you're going to have to extort, kidnap, or murder Barista Boy."

Scowling down at his reading, which sat untouched in his lap, Kaito asked suspiciously, "Are you with Hakuba right now?"

There was the sound of something falling over as Aoko's voice rose approximately three octaves in pitch. "Wh – huh? Why – no – what? Who? Hakuba? Who's Hakuba-kun?"

Rolling his eyes, Kaito grumbled, "Fine, whatever. Go – talk about murder or whatever you guys do on your dates." He sighed. "I still don't understand why anyone would want to go out with him."

"Yes, well, some of us prefer stable relationships to spilling coffee down ourselves and spending half an hour fantasizing over random baristas."

"I hate you."

"And you're supposed to be my best friend," Aoko said cheerily, and Kaito had a very unpleasant feeling that she was tossing his words back in his face. Or his ear, rather. "Have fun thinking about Barista Boy." A note of curiosity entered her tone. "Are you going to go back to Poirot, by any chance?"

"Uh…" Kaito rubbed at the back of his neck. "Maybe?"

"Oh, okay. I'll give you a raincoat the next time I see you."

"What? Why?"

"So you don't get your shirt dirty when you drop your drink again."

"Wow –" A dial tone cut Kaito off, and Kaito was struck by the urge to find a new best friend.

It was getting late when Shinichi finally waved goodbye to Ran, who knotted her cashmere scarf around her neck as she smiled sparklingly at him. "Thanks for closing up, Shinichi!"

"I didn't exactly have a choice," Shinichi muttered, eliciting a dark look from Ran before he smirked faintly at her. "Have fun on your date."

"It's not a date," Ran huffed. The pink suddenly blooming on her cheeks begged to differ, though, and Shinichi just shook his head at her.

Shinichi looked at her, patronizing. "Of course. Give the poor man my regards."

"He's a doctor, not a poor man," snapped Ran, managing to fit in one more glare before she threw open the back door and stomped out. Her footsteps were audible even when the door slammed shut.

Smiling knowingly to himself – Ran had been going out with that doctor guy for how long, and she still refused to admit that she was absolutely head over heels – Shinichi glanced around the darkened café. The chairs and tables cut dark shapes in the dim lighting, and he was about to turn off the last set of lights over the counter when the front door creaked open, the bell suspended at the top of the doorframe ringing softly.

Instinctively turning to look at the door, half of Shinichi's apologetic "Sorry, we're closed for the day," exited his mouth on autopilot before he cut himself off, his tongue tangling in his mouth as his eyes widened with surprise.

From where he was standing in the doorway, Mocha-Spilling Guy from two Tuesdays ago – his name was Kuroba, if Shinichi recalled correctly (and of course he did, how could he forget?) – blinked awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his head. "Er – sorry about the hour, I just…"

For a moment, Shinichi just stared, jaw hanging open slightly. Reacquainting himself with the fact that Kuroba was really really really attractive, he supposed. "It's fine," he found himself saying, gesturing at Kuroba to come in. "I was just closing up, but I can make an exception."

Kuroba's smile was luminous in the murkiness. "Really? Thanks." He carefully made his way across the store, heading for the counter.

Flicking the lights back on and flooding the room with light, Shinichi leaned against the counter to smile warmly at Kuroba. Up close, Kuroba wasn't looking as good – there were dark gray smudges occupying the space underneath his eyes, and his lips were painfully chapped and edged with an angry red – but there was still something like fireworks in his eyes, which seemed to make his face look alive as ever.

"Long week?" Shinichi asked, eyebrows raised.

"You don't know the half of it. Finals are the worst thing in existence," Kuroba muttered wearily, running a hand through his unkempt hair. His gaze flickered on Shinichi's face for a moment before he smirked suddenly. "But it's getting better."

"Is that a line?" Shinichi grinned, relaxing fully onto his elbows, and Kuroba just hummed, halfway coy as he slanted a glance at Shinichi.

Damn did he look good from all angles. Wow.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Shinichi straightened and met Kuroba's gaze head-on, turning businesslike. "What would you like? We've put away most of our supplies for the day, so we don't have mocha lattes, if that was what you were thinking."

Unexpectedly, Kuroba turned bright red and ducked his head. "Shut up," he mumbled, red all the way to the tips of his ears, and Shinichi shook his head at him.

"Just for that, I'm just going to make you black tea." Shinichi shook his head sadly at him as he reached for a paper cup. "How rude, especially when I'm making an exception and serving you after hours."

"Right, right." Blowing out a breath, Kuroba hesitantly peered back up at Shinichi before breaking into a half-smile that somehow managed to pass as seductive, despite the fact that Kuroba was still doing a fairly accurate impression of a tomato. His eyelashes lowered halfway over his irises, fluttering just the slightest bit as he purred, "Sorry, Kudou."

For all of three seconds, Shinichi's brain did a remarkably good job of going completely blank, leading him to eloquently stammer, "Uh…" before he finally regained control of his motor faculties and managed to say, "How did you know my name?"

Rolling his eyes, Kuroba pointed at the nametag clipped to the front of his apron. "You're wearing a nametag."

"Oh." Shinichi blinked vacantly down at his nametag for a moment before he lifted his eyes to smile – as alluringly as he could – at Kuroba, tapping his fingers lightly against the cup still in his hand. "I guess I forgot about that, Kuroba."

It was Kuroba's turn to don the wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights expression, Shinichi noted with some satisfaction as he tore open a tea bag. "Wait, what?"

"Your name was written on the cup," Shinichi reminded him smugly, and Kuroba glared.

"No need for sass."

"But that's my charm point," Shinichi complained. "Nobody wants a college-attending amateur detective slash barista to not be sassy and overbearing."

Kuroba arched one neatly sculpted eyebrow at him. (Shinichi momentarily wondered if he shaped them, then decided against it. Kuroba didn't seem the type to care about that kind of thing.) "So you're an amateur detective, then?"

Shinichi shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. The tone of Kuroba's voice didn't exactly sound – supportive. "I guess," he answered, turning to add hot water to the cup. "I've been solving cases since I was in high school."

"Really?" It was hard to read Kaito's voice without seeing his face, Shinichi thought with some disappointment. His grip tightened on the cup. "What kind of cases?"

"Uh…" Shinichi hesitated, playing with a lid. "Well… murders, kidnappings, bombings. That sort of thing."

"Wow." Kuroba sounded mildly – disinterested. Which, of course, was a great sign, and Shinichi probably should have never told him about his cases. Good going, me.

In a most likely transparent attempt to nurse his wounded pride, Shinichi chuckled softly, popped the lid onto the cup, and turned back around to slide the tea across the counter towards Kuroba. "Hm."

"What?" Kuroba glanced up from where he was digging around in his pocket for his wallet. "Why are you laughing?"

"Nothing. I just didn't know that being a detective was such a bad thing," Shinichi answered, lightly, as he accepted the slightly rumpled bills Kuroba dropped onto the counter. He locked gazes with Kuroba, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, I guess."

Kuroba's eyes widened, and he blinked before flushing pink. "Wh – no, that's not it. I – I just know a guy who's also a detective, and he's really annoying, and I don't like him, so for a second I was just thought – but I mean, you're different, so, well, uh…" He trailed off awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head with the world's most (adorably) uncomfortable laugh leaking from his lips.

…Oh. Well, in that case.

"I see," Shinichi murmured, resting his face on one hand to beam at Kuroba. "Now that you know about what I do, what do you do?"

Kuroba picked up his cup of tea gingerly, taking a cautious sip (Shinichi graciously refrained from saying, "Wow, so you can drink from a cup." He wasn't that cruel, after all) before he answered. "I'm an amateur magician, but I'm also a physics major."

Shinichi's eyebrows went up. "A physics major?"

"You'd be surprised," Kuroba replied as he set down his cup. "Knowing how physics works and how to apply that knowledge is helpful when you're trying to design magic tricks."

"Oh." Shinichi wasn't entirely sure how to feel for a moment. He'd sort of been expecting Kuroba to be some kind of liberal arts major, but knowing that he was a physics major, something that Shinichi was honestly interested in, was, disturbingly enough… kind of a turn-on.

He swallowed quickly in an attempt to dispel that notion, smiling as naturally as he could over at Kuroba. "That's impressive."

"You think?" Kuroba tilted his head contemplatively, lifting his cup to his lips.

"Uh, yes. The general population doesn't exactly understand physics."

An expression Shinichi might actually describe as predatory descended on Kuroba's face. "But you do, don't you?" He draped himself, catlike, over the top of the counter, shooting Shinichi an eyebrow-raised, one-corner-of-his-mouth-higher smirk. "You seem like the type."

"Yes, well." Shinichi suddenly found his mouth drier than the Sahara Desert. He tried to resurrect his salivary glands (to no avail). "I did say I was a detective. It's the kind of work that can require knowing the laws of physics and all."

Nodding in approval, Kuroba let out an exhale and straightened. "Makes sense." (Shinichi was torn between feeling disappointed and relieved.) Glancing up at the square clock hanging over the coffee machine, Kuroba picked up his cup, slightly hesitantly, before smiling one last time at Shinichi. "It's kind of late, so I guess I'll be heading out. I've got one more final tomorrow, after all."

"Oh. Good luck," Shinichi said, blinking rapidly as Kuroba turned towards the door.

The magician stopped for a second, though, to look back over his shoulder at Shinichi. "You know," he began, clearing his throat in a vaguely awkward manner, "sometimes… sometimes I hold free magic shows at the park in the center of campus on Saturdays…"

"Really. That sounds… nice." Shinichi continued to blink over at Kuroba. He was starting to feel as if he'd missed a very important cue. His suspicion was confirmed as Kuroba blushed, color riding high on his cheekbones. A very nice look, in Shinichi's opinion.

"So if you're ever free on a Saturday, or… I don't know… you could… come see one? One of my shows, I mean. They're usually at eleven in the morning, right before lunch because that's when campus is busiest. I mean, you don't have to, but I think it might be fun if you'd, uh, show up. Maybe." This was concluded by a clearly uncomfortable hand along the back of the neck as Kuroba whirled for the door. "You know what, never mind."

He was halfway out the door when Shinichi managed to unglue his jaw from the counter and get out, "No, seriously, that sounds... that sounds great. I'll definitely try to make it."

And suddenly Kuroba was all firecracker smiles as he beamed over at Shinichi. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Shinichi was probably also smiling, albeit in a more embarrassingly stupid way rather than a brightly excited way.

"That's – that's great, I'll be looking forward to seeing you." Judging from the brilliance of the grin he cast in Shinichi's direction, Kuroba, Shinichi decided, was the human embodiment of a sun. Or a star or something. Some kind of celestial body, one with an overabundance of smiles and good looks.

Kuroba was about to take a step outside, the sole of his shoe scraping against the floor, when Shinichi blurted out, "And, uh, hey, I work weekdays from three to nine, in case you – you wanted to know. For some reason. Just – so you know."

He almost regretted it when Kuroba nearly tripped, barely managing to catch himself on the doorframe. But the wide-eyed, slightly flustered look Kuroba sent him over his shoulder was enough to make him feel just a little bit better about it.

"You're…" Aoko blinked at him, searching for words. "You're… smiling." Completely taken aback, she nudged blindly at Hakuba, who was sitting next to her with a similarly strangled expression. "Hakuba-kun," she stammered what she probably thought to be a normal tone but was, in actuality, about eight octaves too high, "he's smiling."

Hakuba, with very deliberate care, set his water glass down on the cafeteria table. "I know," he wheezed. His face appeared to be frozen in an expression that made him look as if someone was trying to remove his eyeballs from his eye sockets with a vacuum cleaner. "I know."

Kaito would try to find it in himself to be annoyed, but all he could bring himself to do was arch an eyebrow across the table at them. "You two have got that couples' telepathy thing down, Isee." He smirked.

"Hakuba-kun," Aoko squeaked, clutching frantically at Hakuba's sleeve, and Hakuba wrapped a protective arm around her, ever the perfect gentleman.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you from it."

"Oh my God," Kaito fumed, throwing himself melodramatically back in his chair so it tipped dangerously. "Hakuba, please keep a two-meter distance from my best friend before I'm hit by the sudden and uncontrollable urge to throttle you, thank you. Also, spoiler alert: I'm not an it."

Separately slowly, the couple exchanged surreptitious looks – Kaito had exactly three seconds to prepare himself for whatever stupid synchronized shit they were going to pull – before Hakuba warily began, "About that, Kuroba-kun… you see, we always thought you had homicidal tendencies, and we've been wanting to talk about it with you…" He blinked at him with mournful, heartless eyes. Aoko did the same, the traitor. "Are you sleeping at night? Do you have violent dreams or ideas? A knife collection?" He tilted his head understandingly at Kaito. "You can tell us, we're your friends."

Snickering, Aoko chortled behind her hand, somehow managing to convey oh my, Hakuba-kun, you're so clever without saying a word.

Briefly, Kaito wondered if he would get any response if he put a "Wanted: New Best Friend Who Doesn't Have an Annoying English Detective Hanging Off Of Them" ad into the school newspaper.

"On that note." Kaito cleared his throat pointedly, ignoring the twin shit-eating smiles they shared. He idly traced the rim of his water glass with his ring finger. "So… I talked to Barista Boy some more." Kudou.

Aoko somehow managed to go from evil sadist to ecstatic sister in all of .0001 seconds. "Oh my God, really?" Her smile turned sunshiny. "What's he like?"

"Oh, well…" Kaito beamed down at the table, feeling disgustingly enchanted with the memory of Kudou from last night. He probably wasn't supposed to be this infatuated after, what, two conversations with the guy, but it was kind of hard, when Kudou smiled the way he did and let him come in after hours. "Really – really nice." He thought back to Shinichi handing him the tea. "He's a detective, actually."

At this point, Hakuba, who had been turning back to his half-finished salad out of boredom, snapped to attention. "Really? A detective?"

"Yes, unfortunately. One of your kind," Kaito grumbled before perking back up. "But he's great. Not like you at all." He turned back to Aoko, who was still watching him with a dreamy expression. "He let me come into the café after hours, just because… well, I guess because I looked depressed or something."

Which, in retrospect, was rather sad, and Aoko seemed to pick up on him sighing inwardly. She shook her head at him quickly, reassuring. "I doubt that was it, Kaito."

"What's his name?" Hakuba demanded, which roughly translated to Will I recognize him if you say his name?

"You really won't get off the detective thing, will you?" Kaito groaned, then relented. "I don't know his first name, but his last name is Kudou."

Instantly Hakuba's eyes widened. "Kudou? Do you mean Kudou Shinichi?"

"Uh…" Kaito stared at him, very disturbed at the sudden animation in Hakuba's eyes. "If you're thinking of trying to pick up Kudou, I would like to remind you that your girlfriend is sitting next to you, and considering that she's my best friend, I'm morally obligated to stab you with a steak knife if you make her upset in any way."

"Meat cleaver," Aoko corrected, sweetly.

Hakuba ignored them in favor of digging his phone out of his pocket. "No, really," he said breathlessly, typing something up on his phone before showing them an article. Great Detective of the East Kudou Shinichi Solves Yet Another Baffling Case, it read, and right beside that was a devastatingly adorable picture of Shinichi bent over a strip of crime scene tape, frowning at something on the ground. "He's kind of a big deal. In both the detective circles and, you know, the general public."

Kaito stared, at a loss. "Oh." Kudou certainly hadn't made it sound like a big deal, he thought faintly.

"You really know how to pick them," Aoko murmured, eyebrows lifted.

"I had no idea I was talking to a celebrity all this time," Kuroba said somberly as he laid down a thin stack of bills.

It was several days after the little after-hours meeting they'd had, and Shinichi had been surprised to see Kuroba again so soon. Today, Kuroba was looking just as overwhelmingly celestial-body as before, though with less under-eye circles and more pressed collared shirt.

"Huh?" Shinichi looked up at him in bewilderment, one eyebrow crawling up his forehead. He slid several coins back across the counter towards Kuroba, glancing around him to take in the huge line slowly gathering behind him. "What are you talking about?"

Tucking his change into the front pouch of his shoulder bag (and ignoring the irate huffs of "Could you hurry up?" from over his left shoulder), Kuroba shrugged and gave a melancholy sigh. "I was talking to my friends about you, and the annoying detective one revealed to me that you're actually famous." He eyed Shinichi dolefully through his ridiculously pretty eyelashes, bottom lip quivering. "There are articles written about you."

Shinichi was momentarily distracted by said eyelashes, then by Kuroba's comments. "You talk to your friends about me?" Something dangerously close to surprised affection filled his lungs.

"Uh –" Kuroba flushed, clearly caught off guard, before he rubbed sheepishly at the base of his neck. Behind him, someone made a sound that demonstrated vast exasperation (or so Shinichi assumed it was meant to). "Maybe?"

"Hm," Shinichi hummed knowingly, eyebrows lifted suggestively. He smirked internally as he noted blood drawing even closer to the surface of Kuroba's skin (that was a really nice shade of pink) before he gave a mildly uncomfortable jerk of his shoulders. "Well, about the articles – I mean, I guess I do have some… fame. Some people know who I am, at least." He paused. "Usually not people who come here, though. Not many newspaper-readers around these parts, I guess." Mostly because the customers were mostly collage-aged students, Shinichi thought to himself.

The grin on Kuroba's face was the epitome of self-satisfied. "If I'd known you were in the newspaper, I'd be reading it every day."

A horrific blush made its way onto Shinichi's face as he fumbled the cup he'd been handing to Shiho. "Please stop talking."

(There was a stray "Get a damn room," again from behind Kuroba. Both of them pretended that they hadn't heard anything.)

"But still, wow, a real celebrity," Kuroba smirked, clearly enjoying Shinichi's reaction. His biceps filled out the sleeves of his shirt rather nicely as he leaned forward. Shinichi reluctantly dragged his gaze away to refocus them on Kuroba's dancing eyes. "I'm impressed… tantei-kun."

Something about the way Kuroba half-purred the appellation made Shinichi's cheeks relight. "Excuse me?"

Kuroba just grinned, a positively revolting combination of charming and amused, and sauntered over to the pick-up area to where an irked Shiho was waiting with his double shot espresso.

Shinichi stared after him, tracking him with his eyes as Kuroba gave Shiho an apologetic grin, the full two million watts (he blinded her irritation for a moment, leaving her blinking at him in none-too-annoyed confusion), before heading for the only unoccupied table in the shop. He pulled something out of his book bag (it looked like a stack of stapled papers from where Shinichi was standing) and began to peruse it, brow crinkling in concentration.

"Well," Ran remarked, saccharine, from her own register, smiling tightly over at him, "aren't you two cute, already on pet names?" When Shinichi opened his mouth to protest, Ran reminded him, "But let me remind you that it's rush hour and I may have to sacrifice you to the coffee shop gods if you don't make yourself helpful." One of her hands curled into a loose fist.

"How may I help you?" Shinichi directed to the bleached blonde in front of the register.

Ran smiled warmly.

(Later, when Ran was busy cleaning up a giant whipped cream explosion, Shinichi managed to catch Kuroba's eye and mouth I'll see you Saturday, for your magic show before Ran noticed and smacked him on the head with a can of whipped cream.

Somehow, though, before he had a chance to shriek at Ran, he caught sight of Kuroba grinning uncontrollably and decided yes, the growing bump on his head was worth it.)

"How did I do? How did I look?" Kaito tugged at his hair uncomfortably, looking at his best friend pleadingly.

Aoko blinked owlishly at him before turning to Hakuba, who was, as usual, glued to her side. "Hakuba-kun, I think Kaito has been replaced by an insecure fourteen-year-old girl."

Hakuba nodded solemnly in agreement. "And just because Kudou Shinichi came to see his show." He glanced at the throng of people clogging up most of the park (it was impossible to pick out any single person) and shook his head. "Or supposedly came, at least."

"Wow, you two are so incredibly helpful," Kaito growled, glaring as he tried to flatten his hair. He sighed. Why hadn't he brought a comb?

It was a few minutes past the conclusion of Kaito's show. The weather was good, blue skies and fluffy white clouds as far as the eye could see; people were still hanging around the park, studious-looking, book-carrying students as well as a few parents with their children; everything was calm, happy, straight out of a postcard.

And Kaito was having a nervous breakdown, right there behind the stage.

He glared as Aoko and Hakuba simultaneously shook their heads, doing their terrifying couple synchronicity thing, and heaved a heavy breath. "Oh my God, what if he didn't like the show? What if he walked out in the middle? What if he didn't even come? Is that why he hasn't come to talk to me? What if he thought my shirt looks stupid? Why did I even invite him?"

"Well," Aoko said, thoughtful, "you shirt does look stupid –" (Kaito gave a wounded sound; this was one of his favorite shirts, and it looked stupid, oh my God) "– but what's probably even stupider is the way you're freaking out. Calm down. If he didn't like your show or if he walked out in the middle, then why the hell would you want to go out with him?" She placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "You're never this unconfident. You're a great guy with a great personality and a great heart. You're Kuroba Kaito."

"So that's your first name."

Kaito swore he jumped three inches out of his skin at the suddenly very close and very familiar voice coming from his left. He whirled so fast he almost fell over, gawping as Kudou – Shinichi, his brain reminded him very supportively – strolled towards them, a vision of rolled-up sleeves and tousled hair and gorgeous and every other positive adjective in the universe.

He came to a stop in front of them, giving a friendly grin. "Hey. Great show. Sorry it took so long for me to get over here - the crowd's huge."

Silence descended like a thunderstorm as Hakuba, Aoko, and Kaito all tried to rehinge their jaws.

Donning an uncomfortable smile, Shinichi tried, "Uh… hi, I'm Kudou Shinichi, Kuroba's friend."

Aoko was the first to regain her voice. "Oh," she choked, face painted several deep shades of crimson. "Oh wow. Kaito actually had good taste for once."

"Excuse… me?" Shinichi looked mildly concerned, squinting at her. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Mmhm, perfectly all right," Aoko got out, though she sounded strained. She gripped at Hakuba's arm. "I'm Nakamori Aoko. Kaito's best friend." She managed a smile as Shinichi inclined his head politely to her.

Somehow, Kaito's brain finally succeeded in catching up to the last minute, specifically towards what Shinichi had first said. So that's your first name? He frowned at Shinichi, drawing his attention away from Aoko's attempts to burrow into Hakuba's bicep. "Wait, what did you mean what you said 'so that's your first name'?"

"Huh?" Shinichi blinked, then colored slightly. "W-Well, um… I never actually knew your first name, since we never really introduced ourselves." He smiled in a way that Kaito might've described as shy, if shy could ever be used in reference to Kudou Shinichi. "It's – it's Kaito, right?"

Nrgh. Never had Kaito's name sounded more appealing.

His mouth was halfway open, about to produce the syllables of, Yes, that is indeed my name, and I would like to hear you say it for approximately eighteen millennia, would that work for you when Hakuba cut in, seeming to finally have managed to get his tongue to work. "You're - you're Kudou Shinichi?"

"Yes, I am." Shinichi smiled patiently, waiting for an explanation.

Hakuba's face lit up in a way Kaito had never seen on him. It was a fairly disturbing sight. "So you're a detective, right? I am too, actually."

"Really? What's your name?"

"Hakuba Saguru," Hakuba replied, and then Shinichi's face lit up, which would've been a much more satisfying thing to watch, had Hakuba not been the cause. As it were, Kaito sort of felt an odd urge to punch Hakuba in the face.

"Oh, I've heard of you. You've solved quite a few cases, haven't you? Here and in England, too," Shinichi beamed, and Hakuba nodded, puffing with pride.

"That's true, I suppose…"

As the two of them descended into a conversation that sounded as if it centered on what England was like in the summer, Sherlock Holmes, and the decomposition rate of dead bodies, Aoko leaned over to whisper, "He's got my seal of approval."

Kaito scowled at her in surprise. "But you've only just met him. Don't you usually not give a verdict on them until you've ransacked their bedroom and threatened them with a mop?"

"It's because you have such awful taste. You don't know the horrors I've found in their rooms," Aoko muttered before she cleared her throat. "It's true I've only just met Kudou-kun, but somehow… I don't know, he just seems like a really nice person." Something in her eyes shifted, turning a little more molten and a little more faraway. "I have this feeling that he'd be good for you, Kaito." She smirked, sudden. "And you two are totally having eye sex. Like, every time you look at each other."

"I did not need to hear that, but thanks, I guess."

They were quiet, content to take in the scene before them and the feel of wind brushing their cheeks. That is, until Hakuba reached out to touch Shinichi's shoulder and Kaito instantly snapped, "Okay, okay, Aoko, corral your boyfriend or I'll cut off his hand."

"You're screwed up," Aoko retorted, but there was no lack of fury as she stalked forward, grabbing Hakuba by the arm so hard that Hakuba flinched. She tossed Shinichi an apologetic glance. "I'm so sorry, but we'll have to be going now." With that, she hauled a very mystified Hakuba behind her and disappeared into the very slowly dissipating crowd. Kaito got the feeling that Hakuba was in for a mop-induced coma, but he couldn't bring himself to pity him.

Shinichi watched them go with eyebrows raised. "Okay, then." He turned back to Kaito, and there was the slightest curve to his too-pink, too-soft lips. "The show was great, by the way."

"Thanks." Kaito smiled, rolling his shoulders back. Now that his nerves were mostly assuaged, he probably wasn't going to pass out anymore, which was definitely an improvement.

He shot Shinichi a contemplative look. How could someone who messed him up so much when not around somehow calm him just as easily with his presence? "I'm a little – nervous, I guess." Easy (artificial) grin here. "I'm really hoping I didn't disappoint you, after all."

A short moment passed, during which Shinichi studied Kaito's face and Kaito felt a little put out, pinned beneath Shinichi's azure gaze.

And then, without any explanation, warning, or preamble, Shinichi took a step forward and Kaito felt lips brush whisper-soft against his cheek, just barely touching the corner of his mouth, and all too soon Shinichi moved away, smiled, "Kuroba, I sincerely doubt you could ever disappoint me," and walked off, a baffling combination of cavity-inducing sweet and blood-boiling seductive.

Kaito had to brace himself against the stage for a moment before he could breathe again.

Okay. Okay, so he should probably ask Shinichi out before he lost his mind.

It was nearly four days after Kaito's frankly astounding magic show (seriously, Shinichi hadn't been able to figure out an almost alarming number of his tricks) when Kaito finally showed up at the shop again.

Unfortunately, he had come in during rush hour yet again, and Shinichi had been stuck on drink-making duty and thus unable to talk to Kaito over the register. He did, however, spend a little extra time on Kaito's mocha latte.

The minute rush hour was over and almost all of the customers were filtering out the door, Shinichi made his way around the counter to cautiously approach the table Kaito had claimed. He was engrossed in some kind of packet, although from what Shinichi could see, he was reading a different one from the first one he'd pulled from his backpack upon settling into his spot. This one appeared to be about basic astronomy, and he gave a mental nod of approval.

"Have you gotten to Newton's law of universal gravitation?" he asked by way of greeting, and Kaito's head snapped up, sinfully pretty indigo eyes a little unfocused from reading for so long and his voice cracking with dryness as he made a sound of surprise before relaxing.

"Oh, no. Not yet," he answered, smiling vaguely, and Shinichi nodded, taking the seat across from him. For a second, he worried that he was being too presumptuous (despite the fact that he'd kissed Kaito on the cheek the last time they'd seen each other, he could still be overstepping some kind of boundary for all he knew) but then Kaito grinned impishly at him, leaning forward the slightest bit.

"So what's Newton's law of universal gravitation, Kudou? Care to explain?"

Kaito's smile and Kaito's voice, Shinichi thought decisively, should be outlawed for how blinding they were in combination. Seriously.

"Well, basically, it states that there's attraction between any two objects, based on mass and the distance between them," he answered, trying his hardest not to let himself linger on Kaito's lips. He was entertaining some seriously idiotic thoughts about what they would taste like.

Kaito's eyebrows rose in graceful twin arcs. "Oh, really?"

"Uh..." Shinichi swallowed. "Yes."

"Then what happens," and here he leaned in even further, his unruly bangs sweeping lightly against Shinichi's forehead, and his voice was a low, halfway throaty sound as he finished, "if the distance is decreased, like this?"

Half of Shinichi's brain wanted to cry that this was one of the stupidest and most cliché pick-up lines he'd ever been exposed to, and the other half wanted to cry that Kaito was unfairly attractive to the point that even the stupid, cliché pick up line would probably work.

(Kaito's eyelids lowered, eyelashes millimeters from touching Shinichi's.

…Okay, so it was definitely going to work.)

As both halves of Shinichi's brain were occupied, Shinichi's mouth took the liberty of answering, "The attraction between the two increases."

A tiny smirk crawled across Kaito's lips. "I see." His breath felt warm against Shinichi's lips, sort of sticky with coffee and chocolate and yet somehow not entirely unpleasant. Or unpleasant in the least.

Before Shinichi could breathe in again, Kaito's mouth was against his, moving unhurried and steady and questing, his tongue just the faintest suggestion along the seam of Shinichi's lips.

Shinichi's hands shot out to grab at Kaito's forearms, nudging papers and Kaito's empty coffee cup out of the way. This was insane, he thought, half-crazed, that they were kissing in public, at his workplace, while he was still wearing his apron – and then Kaito's tongue was no longer just a suggestion, suddenly something all too tangible licking at the roof of Shinichi's mouth, and all coherent thought on Shinichi's part ceased.

This wasn't love, no. Love came after more than a few weeks and a few cups of coffee and a few conversations, after months and years and too many shared smiles to count.

But Shinichi could taste something very, very close to love, right there in Kaito's mouth, in the soft skin of his wrists and the brush of his shirt sleeves against Shinichi's hands, something that did come with pouring lattes down oneself and making after-hours exceptions and attending mind-blowing magic shows, and that was more than good enough.

They broke apart, rather explosively, when Ran fairly shrieked, "Oh my God, Shinichi, you're in public," and there was the click of someone taking a picture with their phone. Shinichi wiped furiously at his face, realizing that Kaito had been winding his fingers through Shinichi's hair at some point, because he could feel that his hair was rather disheveled, and he took great pride in the fact that Kaito's lips were bright red and kiss-bitten.

There was a short silence, then Kaito finally asked, "Do you want to – I don't know, get coffee sometime?" with one of his celestial-body smirks.

Shinichi just looked at him, took in the childlike indigo sparkle of his eyes and the crooked curl of his collar on one side and the rumpled bits of his hair, and grinned back. "Only if you promise not to pour your latte down the front of your shirt."

"That was one time," Kaito groaned, but he picked up Shinichi's hand reverently, as if holding a piece of fine china, and Shinichi decided yes, this not-love was perfectly fine.

I'm sorry, I really really really wanted to include the Newton's law of universal gravitation pick up line, which is about 99% of the reason why I made Kaito a physics major. /shot

Weeeeell, hope you enjoyed – if you did, please consider dropping me a review! – and I'll see you all soon! Mwah! – Luna