Chapter 4

Phantom R got away.

Even a day later, Shinichi still couldn't believe it. After leaving the control room, he had confronted Phantom R near the romantic style paintings. A soccer ball from his backpack knocked the thief down and Shinichi hand lunged, edger for the arrest close at hand.

But… he'd gotten cocky. And for it, Phantom R escaped. In a single move, Phantom R had both sprung back to his feet and kick Shinichi to the side, tossing him away like he was made of paper. As if that humiliation wasn't enough, Inspector Vergier had banned from assisting in another heist, rightfully blaming Shinichi for Phantom R's escape and preventing Shinichi from enacting vengeance upon the thief.

He was absolutely pissed; at Phantom R, yes, but mostly at himself. He thought he'd gotten over this, grown past the arrogance that had nearly killed him in middle school, the insistence that he do everything himself. If Ran hadn't found him in time… He shook his head. He couldn't focus on "what if"s anymore.

What he had to do was figure out how to catch Phantom R without access to his heists. The Inspector would never let him in again and Tou-san wouldn't either. Tou-san hadn't mentioned his failure, but Shinichi could tell—he was disappointed in Shinichi. Shinichi didn't blame him, he had ruined Tou-san's carefully laid plan after all, but it still stung. Try as he might, Shinichi couldn't recall the last time his father was actually disappointed with him.

Had it ever happened before?

Regardless, Shinichi's mind was set. He'd capture Phantom R come hell or high water.

But for now, he needs to get to class, so Shinichi knocked on Raphael's door and greeted him with a smile. "Hey, Raphael. I'm not too early, am I?"

Raphael's face morphed from surprised to a grin. "No, not at all! Come right in."

Shinichi slipped past him into the apartment. Fondue perked up and barked from the couch, so Shinichi sat next to him and started to scratch his ears. "So, what was wrong with Fondue?"

"Huh?"

"You never said why Fondue had to go to the vet, so I assumed it was something serious. But he looks perfectly fine…"

"Oh, yeah!" Raphael laughed sheepishly. "I guess I just overreacted. He threw up and I thought he ate something he wasn't supposed to. Sorry about the inconvenience."

"It wasn't a problem." Though Shinichi could have sworn he said something about a cut last night on the phone… He shook his head. He probably imagined it. "Honestly, I would have rather been here. Stupid Phantom R and his pretty hair…" he muttered.

"Phantom R? You mean you were at his heist last night?" Raphael sounded excited. "And you think his hair is pretty?"

Shinichi groaned, slumping in his seat, his head thudding against the wall. "I don't want to talk about it. But yeah, his hair's pretty, what little I could see of it anyway." It red, like Raphael's, but Shinichi was sure his assessment of the color was off by several pigments; the only light had been from the crescent moon outside, so any visuals were to be mistrusted. "Are you a fan?"

Raphael sat beside him, scooping Fondue into his lap. "Yeah, a lot of people are. There's even a fake Phantom R that's been hanging out around the carnival."

He snorted. "Well, I'm definitely not one. I messed up so bad…"

"What happened?"

He looked away, his hand rubbing his side. He ignored the sting of pain. "It's nothing. I decided to go after Phantom R alone… and paid the price for it."

"What are you talking about… oh God."

Raphael had pulled up Shinichi's shirt. Over his ribs, bruises had blossomed across previously unmarred skin. Raphael's fingers flittered around the wound, never quite touching it, before pulling away, his expression one of horror. "What… how did this…?"

"Phantom R." Shinichi explained. Raphael flinched. "When I confronted him, if you could call it that, he wiped the floor with me. Literally, I slid across the floor into a display case." He tugged his shirt back down. "It's okay, it looks worse than it is. It's not like my ribs are fractured." That had happened to him before, on a case in Kenya. Not fun. "It shouldn't impede my dancing."

"I'm not letting you dance today."

"What? But what about—"

"It doesn't matter; I'll refund your money if I have too." His tone left no room for argument. "I'm not going to risk the chance of you getting hurt again, so get over it."

"I can still work—"

"Dancing while injured will only teach you how to dance incorrectly."

"Then what am I supposed to do? All my other classes are online and the Constabulary will refuse any attempts to assist their caseload after last night's blunder." A bitter taste coated his mouth. "I'm practically useless." His father, disappointed in him and always working, his mother, off to another social event, one after another… if Shinichi had known he'd be so alone while traveling with his parents, he would have just stayed home.

"Why don't you just spend the day with me?" Shinichi tilted his head, confused, so Raphael continued. "I enjoy your company. I could take you around Paris, see some of the lesser known sites, maybe even get dinner…?" He sounded hopeful, wringing his hands.

"Raphael…" Shinichi said slowly. "Are you… asking me on a date?"

"I-I mean… if you want it to be a date…" Raphael's face was completely red, all the way up to his ears. "I… wouldn't say no… if you were into that sort of thing…"

Shinichi smiled and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. He squeaked; adorable! "It's a date then."

A/N: I'm tired of writing slow-burn where both people have to realize that their queer. Nope, this time I'm writing two well-adjusted bi-boys, you're all welcome.