Alternate title: Luna Spends a Million Years Writing Awful Fluff Because She Doesn't Know What Else to Do as She Attempts to Rediscover Her Inspiration.

Anyway, yeah, basically that's it. This is shameless, terrible fluff, in which both Shinichi and Kaito have self-worth issues and spent a lot of time being dense. Warnings include shounen-ai, grammar mistakes / errors, my sense of humor, etc. Title from "Something Good Can Work" by Two Door Cinema Club.

Enjoy! - Luna

Something Good Can Work

Shinichi shoves a piece of toast in his mouth, trips into his shoes, throws his jacket over his head, and runs out his front door only to be besieged by a swarm of reporters who all thrust microphones, camcorders, and other recording equipment into his face at the exact same time. Shinichi only narrowly avoids losing an eye to a reporter's clawlike nails.

He doesn't know what they're there for – occasionally there are a few members of the press camped out in front of his house, if he's just solved a long-winded case or been involved in a high-profile case, and they're usually polite news anchors with painted-on smiles and maybe one cameraman – and he ends up blinking wordlessly at the mass of people. He's probably going to end up on the nightly news with a piece of toast jammed into his mouth and his shirt inside-out, he realizes with resignation.

Everyone starts talking at once, and it takes Shinichi a few moments to parse through the torrent of words and realize they're all basically asking, "How will you respond to this declaration?" and "What are your thoughts?" and "Will you two be the newest celebrity couple?" and that's unexpected enough that Shinichi just blinks at them and opens his mouth to ask –

And then he catches sight of something fundamentally wrong. Something that definitely shouldn't be in his periphery. Shinichi braces himself before he slowly turns to look back at his house.

There is a giant Kid symbol spray-painted across the front of his house. Inside a heart.

"Why aren't you freaking out," Shinichi whines into the phone. He's retreated into his house and is now cowering behind his bedroom curtain, staring down at the glacially dwindling group of paparazzi still milling about. He's already texted Satou to let her know why he hasn't gone into work – she responded with an endless string of HAHAHAHAHAHAHAs that is either an indication that they've gotten closer as people or that Shinichi desperately needs new friends – and now he's just waiting them out. It's not working very well, as it appears many of the reporters have brought picnic baskets.

On the other end of the line, Ran makes a sound that Shinichi thinks might be a poorly disguised laugh, because Ran is a horrible, horrible traitor. "This is the kind of thing that would only happen to you, Shinichi."

"Why is no one trying to get him for this?" Shinichi groans, jerking away from the window before he accidentally makes eye contact with one of the cameramen. "This is obviously illegal. This is – this is vandalism. And defamation. Somehow."

"I think you're ignoring the fact that Kid already has a criminal record several meters long. This probably barely counts as a footnote, since, you know, 'Kid vandalizes a private residence' probably goes underneath 'Kid steals a priceless jewel,'" Ran remarks pensively. "And it's not as if anyone knows who he actually is, so who knows how his record even works."

"What am I supposed to do?" Shinichi wonders, dropping heavily onto his bed. "I can't go outside for at least another three hours." Four, probably, he realizes after doing a few calculations.

"Sudoku?" Ran suggests unhelpfully. Shinichi takes a moment to wonder how he ever thought Ran was a nice person.

"You're the worst," he says with feeling. Ran just laughs and hangs up on him.

He ends up falling asleep, because as it turns out, standing beside a window watching people have picnics on his front lawn isn't the most exciting of activities. When he wakes up, eyes dry and tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, he discovers a barrage of texts from Hattori.

KUDOU

KUDOUUUUU

KUDOU WHAT HAPPENED WITH KID

THERE ARE SO MANY ARTICLES KUDOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

I HATE U AND URE THE WORST FRIEND EVERRRRRRRRRRRR

TELL MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

There are several more messages, increasingly long and smattered with confusing emojis (Shinichi doesn't know how the eggplant emoji could possibly be involved in any of this, and he's pretty sure he doesn't want to enlighten himself), but the one that catches and holds Shinichi's attention is a link stashed between lines of confused question marks. Swallowing and hoping for the best, Shinichi opens the link. He's momentarily blinded by the bright pink text that assaults his vision, and he can almost feel his brain cells dying as he soldiers into the typo-filled text.

EVERYONE theres a giant KID symbol on Kudou Shinichi's house! We all know what that means right guys?! All you Kid/Kudou shipppers were totally right because this is definitely a declaration! Stay tuned cuz wer'e tryign to get an interview w/ him right now!

The text is accompanied by a grainy cell phone photo of Shinichi standing in front of his house, looking as if someone had dropped him into a tank of angry electric eels without notifying him beforehand. Shinichi feels his eye twitching as he stares blankly down at it.

He's still glaring down at the screen, trying to decide if it would be worth the effort to try to staunch the flow of the articles now populating every gossip site ever (it wouldn't be, but he'd probably enjoy it), when his phone buzzes in his hand, making him jump a little. It takes Shinichi a second to realize that he's just received a text from an unknown number that reads, Did you like my surprise? immediately succeeded by a string of smiley faces because of course Kid is the type to use smiley faces in his texts. Of course.

no, Shinichi types back emphatically, though he realizes that the effect is probably lost over text. He adds, there are reporters outside my house and i can't go to work a moment later. Kid deserves to know the consequences of his actions. Shinichi doubts he'll feel guilty, but it's worth a try.

Shinichi is just about to head downstairs and see if he can somehow sneak out the back when his phone vibrates again in a way that means Kid is probably sitting there with his phone in his hand, waiting for Shinichi's texts. The mental image definitely doesn't make Shinichi smile a little as he peers out the window set in the backdoor.

Take a day off and enjoy life! Read a book! Watch a movie! Better yet, rewatch broadcasts of my old heists ;)))))))) Kid's text reads. Oh, and then there's a predictable row of hearts right after that.

leave me alone, Shinichi replies. He gets about eighteen sad faces twelve seconds after he sends that. Sighing, he taps out, you vandalized my house with a giant kid symbol in a heart. i think i'm allowed to be a little annoyed with you right now.

The paint will come off with water! I had to develop my own formula for it bc I knew you'd be mad if you permanently had a Kid symbol on your house! (Be impressed okay it took a lot of work) xxx is the message that Shinichi receives as he opens his back door tentatively. His backyard seems mostly reporter-free, although there's a suspicious-looking bush that looks large enough to house at least one person in the far corner.

i'm really, really impressed, Shinichi texts back one-handed as he creeps out of the house. by the way have you read the articles that've been posted? apparently everyone thinks the kid symbol is supposed to be some kind of declaration of intent instead of a tasteless prank. and yes i am calling you tasteless. house graffiti isn't exactly the epitome of class.

After hitting the send button, Shinichi slides his phone into his back pocket and starts to walk towards the edge of his yard just as a man with tree branches taped to his arms jumps out from inside the suspicious-looking bush and sprints toward him, wielding a camcorder with terrifying ferocity. Shinichi isn't sure how he does it, but he somehow manages to signal for what feels like every reporter in the northern hemisphere to run towards him.

Needless to say, Shinichi ends up not getting to work that day. He never gets a response from Kid, either, so basically the day is a total loss, because it's hardly stress-relieving to aggressively text someone who doesn't respond. It feels a bit like yelling at a brick wall, mostly frustrating and pretty much useless.

Shinichi spends the next morning sulkily talking to Ran on speakerphone as he scrubs the Kid symbol off his house and occasionally checks in with the small army of police officers he strong-armed into standing guard around his house to ward off any more reporters. He's almost angry to discover that the paint does come off easily enough if he hoses it down, because honestly, what was Kid's point, even? It was definitely a shittier prank than he would've expected from him, at least. If he were to draft a list of things Kid would do to prank him, Shinichi would put "fireworks" and "sky writing" and – and "imploding stars" or something of a similar type from Kid. "Paparazzi-inducing washable house graffiti" wouldn't make an appearance.

It's maybe a little disappointing that Kid doesn't find him worth a better prank, Shinichi thinks once he's relocating his sulking indoors around three in the afternoon, and then realizes just what he thought and resists the urge to bash his head against a wall.

Going to work the next day, Shinichi fully expects to endure a lot of joking from his colleagues, because despite the fact that Shinichi is about ten years younger than everyone else in the division, he's probably the most mature (or at least, he's the most likely to clean out the breakroom refrigerator and the least likely to laugh at anatomically impossible sex jokes). He expects Satou's suggestive eyebrow wiggle and Chiba's smarmy, "I hear someone laid a claim on you, Kudou-kun," and Takagi's halfway apologetic smile as he tucks a tabloid (featuring an article titled, "KID'S NOT SHARING HIS FAVORITE CRITIC ANYMORE!") into his briefcase. He expects all of that.

He doesn't expect for his office to be completely overrun with roses.

Gaping, Shinichi stands in the doorway. He's not entirely sure he's breathing, but the fact that he can definitely smell the overpoweringly strong scent of roses tells him that yes, he probably is. There are literally roses in every imaginable color, including a massive spectrum of blues – which is, admittedly, rather impressive, considering blue roses don't occur in nature and Shinichi has the feeling that Kid is the type to genetically engineer them, but that's not the point – and Shinichi doesn't think he could get to his desk even if he tried. At least not without crushing a lot of the roses. Which he's a little loath to do, considering that, well, the whole thing looks as if it took a lot of effort.

(He wonders how long it took to grow all the roses. He wonders if Kid was thinking about him while he did it, and then he nearly bashes himself over the head for having such a fanciful thought.)

As Shinichi stares into the technicolored depths of his office, still trying to fully process what he's seeing, he hears an odd little cooing noise. Before he can register what's happening, a dove flies out from between bouquets of violet and amethyst roses and lands on his head. Its little feet grip his scalp as it settles down, making appreciative little noises.

Shinichi closes his eyes for a moment, trying to picture a calming meadow or recall the collection of ocean sounds Ran gave him to help him sleep. He has a feeling Satou is standing behind him, if the faint click of a camera is any indication.

Slowly, Shinichi reaches up to extricate the dove from where it's gotten cozy in his hair. It bleats a distressed noise as he does, but calms down quickly enough when Shinichi pets it absently on the back. Unsurprisingly, there's a tube strapped to the dove's leg, and it takes Shinichi a second to pull out the tiny scroll of paper from inside of it. The second he has, the dove hops onto his shoulder and pecks at his ear affably, curling its feathery little body against his neck.

"Oh, it likes you," Takagi says from somewhere to Shinichi's left, sounding awed. Shinichi ignores him, mostly because Takagi didn't even try to stop Satou from taking pictures, and Shinichi has a feeling the pictures are going to end up on the police department's homepage or somewhere equally terrifying.

The note, after Shinichi unravels it, reads:

Good morning, tantei-kun! (There's a misshapen heart drawn here. Shinichi winces at the asymmetry.) Hope you're enjoying the roses – I've been specially breeding the blue roses just for today. They remind me of you: insurmountably beautiful, cool, a little hard to maintain, but well worth the effort. I could wax lyrical about your beauty and wit for longer, but I know you value brevity, so I'll keep this short. Feel free to contact me using Heart-chan (the dove). Treat her well! – Kid xxx

(P.S. I've diverted the media's attention for the moment to avoid the chaos that occurred last time. Apologies for that – it was a massive oversight on my part. It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable.)

His eye twitching, Shinichi reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone. When he does a quick search of "kaitou kid," he discovers exactly how Kid managed to get the media off of Shinichi, if the titles of the recently updated articles are any indication.

Kid offers exclusive interview to the highest bidder, hints at discussion regarding Kudou Shinichi, one mildly reputable news site declares, right underneath a blog post titled KID SELSL HIMSELF! TALK ABOUT BUDDING ROMANCE WIHT KUDUO SHINICHI! There are lines and lines of more posts. Shinichi numbly clicks the screen off.

"What are you going to do about all the roses?" Chiba asks, wandering up to stand beside Shinichi.

"Do you think Megure will approve of having a bonfire in the parking lot," Shinichi replies tonelessly.

"Probably not," Chiba answers companionably, staring into Shinichi's office. On Shinichi's shoulder, the dove – Heart – makes a quiet, snuffly sound and pecks at Shinichi's ear. With a sigh of resignation, Shinichi reaches up and allows Heart to hop onto his hand. She looks up at him with her beady little eyes and chirps.

"I hate your owner," he tells her with feeling. Well, as much feeling as he can inject into a statement that technically isn't true, but. Heart nips lightly at his palm.

"If you're done," Chiba says, "can I take some of those down to Miike-san in the traffic department? I think she likes red." He points at a cluster of deep red roses sitting on Shinichi's file cabinet.

"Fine," Shinichi grumbles, beyond caring, and stalks off to find a rookie officer to terrorize into clearing his office out. Halfway down the hall, Heart crawls up his arm to sit on his shoulder and make him look distressingly like a pirate. It's a testament to how confused and done with the situation Shinichi is that he just lets her sit there for the rest of the day.

Because if Shinichi didn't understand what Kid was up to before, he definitely doesn't now. The roses seem more like Kid's style – he has, after all, been giving Shinichi roses in an unnecessarily flashy manner for the past three years at heists and on other occasions – but then there's the interview to think about. It's not as if the prank with the roses would've brought in a lot of reporters; if the department had kept it quiet, none of the media would've found out. That makes Shinichi think that Kid's got another reason (or at least an ulterior motive) for agreeing to a ridiculously out-of-character interview. It's alarming.

Also, Shinichi has now been saddled with one of Kid's doves. Excellent.

He texts Kid once he's seated in his rose-free office. why did you send me a dove when I've already got your number?

The response is quick, unsurprisingly. Is the romance dead already, tantei-kun? Texting is so impersonal! And this way, you can know for certain that you've already got my heart.

Shinichi blinks down at his phone for a second, trying to decide whether that was supposed to be a pun on Heart's name or Kid being cryptic as usual, but then Eri from the arson department stops in, a bright pink rose pinned to her lapel and her eyelashes mascaraed and primed for fluttering. She shyly thanks him for the flower before assuming a vaguely scandalous pose against his doorway, and Shinichi has to spend the next ten minutes trying to subtly hint that no, he's not interested, the flower wasn't exactly from him, he didn't tell Hiyama to give it to her, sorry. It turns out that subtlety isn't Shinichi's strong suit.

The worst part is when she pouts at him, throws the rose at his head, and shouts, loud enough for the whole division to hear, "So the rumors are true! You are screwing Kid! I hope you die in a fire!" and storms off, buttoning her blouse up as she goes. Takagi chokes so hard that he ends up falling onto the ground in an undignified heap. Serves him right.

Heart coos in Shinichi's ear. Shinichi closes his eyes and prays for patience.

When he happens upon Megure in the communal break room (he's trying and likely failing to coax something drinkable out of the behemoth of a coffee machine in the corner) Shinichi asks, "Can I get a restraining order put on Kaitou Kid?"

Megure looks at him over a cup of what appears to be dark matter mixed with half-and-half and says, "No, because we don't know his identity. Also, if you consider his disguising abilities, it would be nearly impossible to keep him away from you." Shinichi is fully prepared to accept this response until Megure gestures down at his buttonhole. Shinichi glances at it to discover that Megure has somehow appropriated a giant purple rose. "Also, Hiyama-kun gave me enough flowers to make a nice bouquet for Midori. He's pretty useful. You're keeping him around."

"This is exploitation," Shinichi mutters as he vindictively jabs the espresso button on the coffee machine. It gurgles mulishly before it spits tar into the mug he's holding under the spout, effectively ruining the cup for future use. Heart makes a distressed noised and hides in Shinichi's hair at the scent of burnt coffee.

"Also, let's not forget that you like his heists too much to actually put a restraining order on him," Megure adds as he sails out of the room, and Shinichi swears and tosses the cup into the bin on his way out. He hates it when Megure's right.

Even though Shinichi is technically an assistant inspector and therefore, theoretically, shouldn't be saddled with mundane, interny things, he's also the youngest member of Division One. This apparently does qualify him for things such as scrubbing the communal microwave in the breakroom and photocopying case files on demand and coffee runs for basically every department. Shinichi would complain, but he's discovered it's just easier to go with it than put up a fight, because if he tries to resist, Satou does things like put him on really boring tax evasion cases and (less maturely) stick "kick me" signs on his back.

So when Takagi drops by his desk, apologetically holding out a laundry list of coffee orders from basically every police officer in the city, Shinichi just sighs and takes it from him. Heart hops onto his shoulder, and the two of them slog out of the building. He ignores the thrilled little sounds that a few of the traffic officers make when he passes them. They still haven't gotten over the novelty of Shinichi and a bird, it seems. Admittedly, Heart is adorable, and Shinichi is weak to her charms, if the bag of premium bird seed he bought the other day is any indication.

The nearest coffee shop is a few blocks away, and it's a tiny, brick-walled place that perpetually smells like gingerbread and often plays twangy indie music in English. They have decent coffee (or coffee that's better than what the station's coffeemaker offers), at least, and there's a teenaged barista there who seems eternally red in the face and always gives Shinichi a discount, which is a bonus.

The bell over the door jingles when Shinichi pushes the door open. The teenaged barista's head immediately jerks up, and he grins when he sees Shinichi. A flush works up his neck. Shinichi wonders if he has a skin condition.

"Hi, Kudou-san," the barista greets shyly, leaning over the counter. He reaches out to pet Heart, who snuggles into his touch. "Are you getting coffee for everyone?"

"Unfortunately," Shinichi sighs as he digs the order list out of his pocket and slides it across the counter. "Sorry about this –" he glances at the kid's nametag; he always forgets his name, "– Kenta-kun. I know the orders are complicated." He glances meaningfully down at Yumi's forty-eight syllable order, which involves a distressing amount of hazelnut syrup and chocolate chips.

"That's all right, Kudou-san," Kenta assures him, smiling bashfully as he takes the list. "We just got a new guy, so maybe we can get it done faster this time." He half-turns towards the backroom. "Kuroba!"

Shinichi is in the middle of digging his wallet out of his coat pocket when the other barista, apparently Kuroba, sing-songs, "What's up, Kenta-kun?" and Shinichi fumbles his wallet so badly that all his change ends up spilling on the floor, coins bouncing and rolling off to God knows where. Shinichi is currently finding it hard to care. Because that. That's Kid's voice.

Slowly, Shinichi lifts his face to stare blankly at – yes, that's definitely Kid. Shinichi would recognize that face anywhere, even juxtaposed with an apron and a polo shirt. Numbly, Shinichi thinks that only Kid could pull off a barista outfit like a GQ model.

Heart chirps excitedly. Her claws dig into Shinichi's scalp. Kid waves and then blows a kiss at her. Or maybe at Shinichi; his aim is ambiguous.

"What are you doing here," Shinichi manages after he gets his voice back into working order.

Kid leans across the counter, grinning crookedly at Shinichi. "I was hoping I'd see you, darling." And then he winks, somehow managing to look charming instead of smarmy. Shinichi kind of hates himself for thinking it's cute. He clearly has horrible taste.

Kenta is looking between the two of them, eyes wide and mouth downturned. He looks surprisingly crestfallen. Shinichi feels a flash of irritation; maybe he has a crush on Kid? "You… know each other?"

"In a manner of speaking," Kid admits, tilting his head back to expose the line of his neck. It's very… long. Smooth. Shinichi goggles. "Wouldn't you agree, Shinichi-san?" He grins even wider.

"You're the worst," Shinichi says without heat. He digs through his wallet until he comes out with a credit card, which he hands to a blinking Kenta. "Stop…" He almost says stalking, then realizes that doing so might scare Kenta. "Following me," he grumbles at Kid. "All the pranks – they're getting annoying, you know. People are getting the wrong idea." Just yesterday, when an advance note for Kid's next heist (he's targeting a sapphire called the Siren Song) arrived at the station, Shinichi had to endure enough "Does he call your eyes jewels? Did he steal your heart? Is he magical in the bedroom?" jokes from his colleagues and even his subordinates that he started genuinely considering moving to New Zealand and becoming a sheepherder.

"Do you want me to stop?" Kid wonders, sounding surprisingly earnest as he meets Shinichi's eyes. Shinichi rubs at his face in lieu of responding, because – well, does he? He can't be sure. It's always nice to get attention from Kid, but when it means nothing beyond Kid's usual brand of self-entertaining teasing…

"I don't know," he mumbles honestly. Kid beams. It's practically a weapon.

"I'm just going to… start on the drinks," Kenta interjects, handing Shinichi back his card. He won't look Shinichi in the eye as he slumps off, looking dejected as he fiddles with the giant coffee bean grinder. Shinichi thinks his shoulders might be shaking, but it's hard to tell at this distance.

"I think you broke his heart," Kid whispers, gesturing at Kenta over one shoulder. Heart takes off from Shinichi's head to land on the counter, and Kid pats her absently on the back as he reaches for a takeout cup.

"What? Me? How?" Shinichi scowls at him, sliding his card back into his wallet. "I didn't do anything."

"Exactly," Kid replies, with his usual amount of enigmatic smugness. Shinichi glares and goes to sit down at one of the hard-carved table and chair sets scattered through the café, but Kid sticks out his bottom lip and asks, "Won't you keep me company, tantei-kun?" and Shinichi crumbles like so much wet sand.

"This doesn't mean anything," he feels compelled to say as he leans against the countertop. Heart takes the opportunity to clamber up his arm. "This isn't a concession or anything. Just so you know."

Kid hums unreadably and flicks on the coffeemaker. "Whatever you say, darling," he says as he grabs another cup and pours soy milk into it (Miike's order). He winks at Shinichi again and turns to froth the milk.

"How long have you been working here?" Shinichi asks when Kid manages to finish mixing three drinks in as many minutes. It's incredible to watch. He gazes, enraptured, as Kid presses a lid onto a mocha-and-French-vanilla monstrosity that he thinks Satou might have ordered.

"A week, give or take a few days," Kid answers as he starts on the next (Megure's caramel cappuccino). God, he's easy to look at. Shinichi tries not to stare too obviously as Kid grabs a bottle of syrup off the far wall. "Being a barista is harder than it looks, but I think I've gotten it down now. Appreciate it."

"Very impressive," Shinichi responds after a moment of being distracted by Kid's hands (his fingers are so pretty). Kid tosses a smile at him over his shoulder as he fiddles with a mug, pouring milk into it. It's not until Kid slides the mug across the counter to Shinichi that Shinichi realizes he's looking down at a latte with a milky white heart on its surface.

"I didn't order this," he gets out after a full second of staring. He looks up at Kid to see Kid watching him fondly even as he gets to work steaming more milk. "You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," Kid tells him, and there's a startling lack of obvious sarcasm in his voice. It throws Shinichi off for a minute; he stands there with his hands pressed to the mug and Heart shuffling around on his shoulder.

"I… thank you," Shinichi finally manages. He's loath to ruin the heart, stupidly enough, but when he does, he discovers that the latte is possibly the best thing he's ever tasted. He ends up communicating this via an uncontrollable, probably inappropriate groan as he swallows, and Kid drops the carton of milk he's holding as he whips around to look at Shinichi.

"That's going to be hell to clean up," Shinichi says to the slowly spreading mess on the ground. Kenta squeaks and scoots out of the way, clutching a cup to his chest. Kid just stands there as he flushes a little, probably embarrassed, seeing as he's supposed to be all nimble-fingered and thiefy or whatever.

"Right," he coughs after a long moment. "I – yeah, I'll clean it up."

After offering to help clean up and getting vehemently rejected, Shinichi leaves the coffee shop ten minutes later with all the drinks and Heart perched on his head (she refuses to go nest in Kid's hair, oddly enough, and Kid just grins when Shinichi tries to foist her off on him). Everyone expresses their satisfaction with the drinks; Yumi in particular waxes lyrical about the "perfect ratio of hazelnut to chocolate" in hers until well after lunch. Shinichi sends Kid a text (thanks for today). Kid sends back, You're welcome, darling! and so many hearts that Shinichi has to scroll down for a minute before he sees the xxxx love you at the bottom.

It makes Shinichi's stomach turn as he clicks his phone off. Kid goes too far sometimes, he thinks as he shoves his phone into his pocket and resolves to forget about it.

Shinichi opens his front door without much care, tossing his keys onto the side table as he exchanges his shoes for a pair of house slippers. Heart coos. He only freezes when he realizes that he can hear something, and it sounds like… Elvis, maybe? (Or whoever sings the "wise men say only fools rush in" song.) There's also the smell of something wafting towards him from the kitchen, which alarms Shinichi for all of two seconds until he realizes it smells like warm food and not decomposing bodies or burning bodies.

Cautiously, Shinichi creeps down the hall. He doesn't notice he's holding his breath until he looks into the kitchen and sees that it's empty, void of anything white and/or monocle-wearing. It takes him a second to label the feeling welling up in his chest as disappointment, and by the time he does, Heart has launched off his head and landed on the kitchen table –

— Which, upon closer inspection, is covered by a pristine tablecloth that Shinichi doesn't recall ever owning…? His finest china is set out – only one place setting, though – and there's champagne risotto and baked asparagus on one filigree-detailed plate. Beside the carefully laid out silverware adjacent to the plate, two tall candles stand stoically, wax only just beginning to drip down their sides in a way that means Kid must've set this up only minutes ago.

Distressingly enough, Shinichi knows he shouldn't find this charming in any way. It's concrete proof that Kid broke into his house. But at the same time – Shinichi might be an idiot and an embarrassment to self-respecting detectives everywhere, because he thinks it's sweet, maybe. Unnerving, but when has Kid ever not been unnerving? In all the years Shinichi has known him, he's always been a little intense, a little hard to deal with, but this is almost – nice. If you squint at the home invasion bit and conveniently forget that Kid is a known criminal.

Trying not to let his thoughts get too warm and fuzzy, Shinichi sits down at the table. When he picks up his fork, he finds a stiff white card tucked beneath the napkin.

I hope you enjoy the food, it says in messy, hastily scrawled handwriting, as if Kid did it as he heard Shinichi's footsteps approaching the front door. It's my own recipe, created solely for you. ("You" is underlined twice.) How is Heart-chan? I hope she's doing well. See you two soon, darling! xxxxxx (there's something smeared and then written over a few times; Shinichi squints at it but can't decipher more than the first few strokes of what looks like Kai completely) Your favorite magician! A line of hearts follows.

Shinichi stares at the card for a long, long moment before he reaches into his phone, locates Kid's number, and calls him.

He doesn't fully understand what he's done until the call goes through in the middle of a choked-off, "Shit," that definitely sounds like Kid, accompanied by a clattering noise, as if he fumbled the phone while answering. In the background, Shinichi thinks he might hear faint crickets and – is that AKB48 playing?

"I didn't mean to answer that," Kid says after a short pause. The AKB abruptly shuts off. "Uh, hi. I'm going to assume that you got home."

"Would you like to enlighten me as to why I'm sitting in my kitchen with a candlelit dinner in front of me," Shinichi asks before he can think better of it. Heart hops towards him, chittering softly.

"I should think it's fairly obvious, tantei-kun," Kid hedges, unhelpful and enigmatic as is his wont. Shinichi scowls down the cutlery before he picks up a fork to prod at the risotto. It steams tantalizingly at him.

"I know the papers think it's some kind of – seduction, or courtship, or whatever," he begins as he rolls a piece of asparagus across his plate. Kid is notably silent in a way that Shinichi interprets as uncomfortable. "But I know it's not, so." He coughs. "Or, well, it can't be, at least."

"Why can't it?" Kid asks, quietly. He almost sounds – he almost sounds serious, ridiculously enough. It's nearly incomprehensible; Kid and seriousness are polar opposites. Shinichi has a feeling that if they were combined, they'd react like so much potassium and water.

"Because you're – you're you," Shinichi finally gets out, tone plaintive and a little helpless. "You're Kid." Kid, despite what many of the doujinshi artists Shinichi has encountered might believe, has absolutely no interest in someone as unexciting and law-abiding as Shinichi. Shinichi imagines him taking interest in polished undercover agents with dark pasts and professional gamblers who are on the run from the government or – just someone less straight-laced and boring than Shinichi. He knows for a fact that Kid doesn't like mysteries, even if he's a bit of one, and he knows that Kid doesn't treat him with anything other than pitying friendship.

"Oh," Kid replies after a short moment, sounding odd, a little strangled. "I… oh."

"What's wrong?" Shinichi asks, frowning down at his fork.

Kid laughs in a way that sounds manufactured. "It's nothing, tantei-kun. I mean, I do realize that I'm just a lowly thief, of course, but it does sting a little to be told that from the object of my affections."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Shinichi sighs, setting his fork down. "You're the one who's always playing around –" With my feelings, he almost says, and then realizes that he's not the quirky heroine of a rom-com and stammers, "– and pulling pranks like this. Like the house paint and the roses and the thing at the coffee shop and now this dinner thing. My point is that people are going to misunderstand."

"Someone's going to misunderstand," Kid mutters under his breath before he continues, in a tone too light to be natural, "That's just the way life is, darling. Misunderstandings and false hope everywhere."

"Okay, I think you're getting me wrong here," Shinichi starts slowly, feelings as if he's completely lost control of their conversation, but Kid cuts him off.

"Don't worry about it, tantei-kun," he steamrolls on. "I'm the one who – who misunderstood everything. Take care of Heart-chan and enjoy the meal. Like I said, I came up with the recipe myself. I'll – I'll see you later." And then Shinichi is listening to a dial tone and feeling a bit as if someone dropped him onto a rollercoaster without warning.

Shinichi puts the phone down. He eats the risotto. It's, predictably, delicious. It also leaves a burnt, ashy taste at the back of his throat, because he has the sneaking suspicion that he's messed up somehow.

Over the years, Shinichi has grown accustomed to waking up to the sound of his phone buzzing frantically on his bedside table (see: the one time he missed a breakfast appointment with Ran and it took ten minutes to delete all her threatening messages; see additionally: the morning of Hattori's wedding when Hattori had a fit of premarital nerves, etc.). However, he's never seen it buzz straight off the table and end up somewhere underneath his bed, still vibrating but occasionally interrupted by the sound of his ringtone going off.

Yawning, Shinichi leans over the edge of his bed to rummage around for his phone. It continues to buzz in his hand, the string of texts unceasing, although Shinichi can pick out a lot of exclamation points and generally excitable words such as kill and you. From where she's perched on his headboard, Heart snuffles and stares at him.

He manages to hit the answer button when Hattori's call screen pops up. "Hello?"

"Kudou! Oh my God, you finally picked up, you absolute asshole, you are so dead, this is why you're the worst person ever, I swear to God I'm going to come to Tokyo and stab you and no one will find your body because I'll burn it to ashes, Kudou, ashes, you hear me –"

Wincing, Shinichi pulls the phone away from his ear. Hattori is still going strong. Shinichi is learning a lot of new swearwords. He also has the sneaking suspicion that there's been some kind of overnight punctuation drought, at least from the way Hattori appears to have forgotten the existence of periods.

"Uh," he begins when Hattori stops to take a breath, "could you maybe explain to me what's going on?"

"Have you been living under a rock?!" Hattori shrieks at him. Shinichi pinches the bridge of his nose. "Have you not seen the interview?!"

"Interview," Shinichi says slowly, hoping his confusion is evident. It must be, because Hattori huffs at him and shouts, "Kid's interview! Go watch it! And then call me back so I can yell at you some more, you heartless, heartless bastard." And then Hattori hangs up on him.

Shinichi stares at his phone for a little while longer before he turns it off (bypassing the six hundred and eighteen missed messages and calls) and pads down the hall and to the living room. Heart follows him, landing softly on his head and cooing when her feet tangle in the mess of his bedhead. He flicks on the TV.

He apparently was watching the news last time he used the TV, because the first thing Shinichi sees when the screen turns on is a news report. A news report that – oh God.

"The footage of Kid's interview, captured by Matsuoka Miyuki of Nichiuri TV at an undisclosed location, was released early this morning," the made-up anchorwoman is saying as KUDOU REJECTS KID scrolls across the bottom of the screen in bold lettering. "In the interview, Kid discusses Kudou's response to his many overtures."

The report cuts to what is presumably a clip of the interview. Kid is seated on a couch across from a very pretty woman (Matsuoka Miyuki, Shinichi supposes). He looks – sad isn't a word that Shinichi generally attributes to Kid, but there's no other way to describe the way he looks. Maybe droopy could also work, like a plant that's been kept in a dark room for too long. A wave of inexorable, inexplicable guilt sweeps over Shinichi at the sight.

"So you're saying that Kudou flat-out refused you," Matsuoka begins, shuffling papers in her lap. She tilts her head of shiny, well-coiffed curls in his direction and rearranges her long legs as she lowers her eyelashes demurely. Shinichi feels a sudden urge to throttle something wearing lipstick and a designer pantsuit. "Even after your declarations? We heard about the roses from photos taken by an insider at the police force, and obviously there was the house paint. Anyone would be charmed by those." She leans forward intently.

"Well, Kudou Shinichi isn't just anyone," Kid replies after a moment. He isn't looking at the interviewer; he's apparently fascinated with something in his lap. "But yes, it seems I may have scared him off with all the things I did. I suppose I did know going into this that we weren't exactly in the same league, considering I'm only a thief and he's…" He does a complicated hand gesture. "You know. Assistant inspector of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Force and the modern Holmes and all of that. I tried to pick things that were impressive – I developed that washable paint myself, you know, and I genetically engineered those roses for him, since I thought that he'd appreciate that kind of thing – you know, detail-oriented and innovative or whatever – but it didn't really work in the end, I guess. There were a few other things – smaller things, since I know he's a private person and he doesn't like having his business splashed across the tabloids – but…."

Shinichi gawps.

"I see," Matsuoka murmurs, nodding sagely. "Do you have any ideas about how you're planning to get revenge, then?" Her voice drops, as if she thinks sleeping with a news anchor is at the top of his list. Shinichi's jaw snaps shut with a sound like a gunshot.

Kid peers at her for a second, uncomprehending, before he scowls darkly. It's the most alive he's looked in the entire interview. "I don't know about you," he starts, sounding infuriated, oh God, "or what you think about me, but I'm not the kind of person who tries to get revenge on someone just because that person didn't reciprocate their feelings. I respect Kudou-san's decision, and I don't want to see him harassed for it, so anyone who was thinking of sending him hate over this or camping out in his front yard, don't you dare. I wanted to save him the embarrassment of having to explain to the press what happened, since I'm the one who started all of this. That's why I set up this interview in advance, to clean everything up if he rejected me. This isn't an invitation to attack him." He gives Matsuoka a significant look before he stands up. "That's all I wanted to say." The feed cuts off.

Oh my God, Shinichi thinks. And then, aloud, "Oh my God."

Heart chirps from on top of his head.

"You're supposed to tell me this is a bad idea," Shinichi whines at Ran over the phone as he paces in front of the searchlights clustered in front of the Crowne Hotel. Heart digs her claws into his scalp to maintain balance as he nearly trips over absolutely nothing. "Be the voice of reason or whatever."

"I think it's a good idea," Ran tells him. She sounds bored, as if she's painting her toenails or something. "Because you really screwed him over, and he'll definitely appreciate the effort." She pauses. "Also because it'll be hilarious and I'll have blackmail material for the next decade."

"I hate you," Shinichi hisses, almost meaning it.

"No, you don't," Ran corrects airily as nail polish bottles clink together in the background (he was totally right). Shinichi pouts manfully and scuffs a toe against the ground. "How many lights did you get in the end?"

"Five," Shinichi replies sullenly. He looks over at them and winces. "I should've picked better phrases. Why didn't you tell me to pick better phrases?"

"They're fine," Ran assures him. "Embarrassing and sappy and a little disgusting, but that's the point, isn't it?" She trails off in a way that means she's started painting flowers onto her big toes. "If the point is to express your angsty, pining feelings, I think you picked appropriate phrases."

"I hope you smear your nail polish," Shinichi tells her vindictively before he hangs up and shoves his phone into his pocket, trying not to hyperventilate the whole time. This is probably going to end in humiliation.

Hakuba wanders up to him, yawning. He gives Shinichi a pitying but possibly impressed look, the sort of look you might give someone when they go skydiving without a parachute while insisting they can fly. "Kid's already infiltrated the building. He's got the Siren's Song already. Inspector Nakamori says he's chased him to the eighth floor." He nods at Shinichi. "Good luck."

"Right," Shinichi chokes out. He signals the few task force members he'd enlisted for the – event, and they nod somberly back at him. He's not entirely sure which of them are laughing silently at him, but he gets the feeling that they all are, to an extent.

He stares at the windows on the eighth floor until his eyes start watering and he realizes he hasn't blinked in about two minutes. Closing his eyes, Shinichi drops his face into his hands and forces himself to breathe deeply.

Because Shinichi's luck is just that great, he's mid-exhale when someone shouts, "There he is!" and then the floodlights start to snap on. He doesn't have time to reconsider it.

Forcing himself to keep his eyes open, Shinichi lifts his head to look at his handiwork. Kid is, predictably, frozen on a balcony. Beside him, a circle of light with I'M SORRY cut out of it bobs a little as the officer manning that searchlight adjusts it. Just underneath the balcony, Shinichi can see the I DIDN'T MEAN TO REJECT YOU light flicker. He would've added I JUST DIDN'T REALIZE YOU WERE TRYING TO COURT ME right after that if he hadn't run out of space.

There are about three more lights left. Shinichi winces as they turn on in quick succession, I SAW THE INTERVIEW and FORGIVE ME? and a giant heart. He can practically hear the blog posts and tabloid articles writing themselves. He can actually hear the shutter sounds going off behind him.

On the balcony, Kid looks a little frozen. He's motionless, even as the heart searchlight swings closer to him, and Shinichi can see that his mouth has fallen open. If anything, Shinichi thinks a little manically, at least he managed to put that look on his face. It was worth his pride.

And then Kid smiles. It's hard to tell from this distance, but Shinichi is pretty sure he's laughing as he throws something down at his feet and disappears in the ensuing cloud of pink smoke. Everyone stares at the now-empty balcony for a long, long moment before their gazes swievel towards him. Shinichi feels an urge to melt into the ground and never emerge.

"Nicely done, if a bit anticlimactic," Hakuba says from beside Shinichi. Shinichi glares. Heart squawks and flaps over to ruffle Hakuba's perfectly styled hair with her feet, and Shinichi resolves to give her extra sweet potato when they get home.

He does, after wading through a veritable ocean of reporters (he shouts, "No comment," and scowls until they back off) and going home to curl up on the couch and stare listlessly at the ground as Heart makes distressed noises and tries to offer him bits of mashed sweet potato. Shinichi doesn't know what he was expecting, really – was Kid supposed to glide down and sweep Shinichi off his feet? Was he supposed to fall into Shinichi's arms? – but this quiet stillness wasn't it.

Shinichi shoves a piece of toast in his mouth, trips into his shoes, throws his jacket over his head, Heart fluttering after him, and runs out his front door only to come face-to-face with Kid, who's standing on his doorstep and wearing the biggest grin ever.

Drawing up short, Shinichi reflexively opens his mouth. The toast falls to the ground with an unimpressive soggy sound, landing half on his foot and half on his doormat.

"Uh," he stammers with incredible intelligence. "Hi."

"Hi." Kid, on the other hand, is beaming at him as if Shinichi discovered and named a star after him. He looks warm and accessible in his maroon sweater and jeans, rosy-cheeked and practically shining. "I liked the searchlights." His grin widens, to the point where it should be annoying, but it's not. He's got insanely long eyelashes, Shinichi thinks a little stupidly. "Especially the part where you confessed your undying love for me."

"I did not," Shinichi begins, but Kid cuts him off with a kiss.

Well, okay, Shinichi decides as he instinctively grabs for Kid's waist. That's – that's definitely okay. More than okay. And then Kid grasps at his face, clutching at Shinichi's jaw with a hint of desperation as his mouth slides open, and Shinichi stops thinking entirely.

Heart coos.

"Could you maybe just text me next time," Shinichi mumbles into his pillow, rolling over to look at Kid – or Kaito, it seems his name is. "Instead of, you know, making a public spectacle out of everything?"

"Hey, I tried not to, except for the house painting and the interview. You're the one who literally put the spotlight on us." Kaito insists as he shrugs, lazily pushing a handful of sweat-dampened hair off his forehead and stretching luxuriously. Shinichi stares shamelessly at the arch of his back and the twin lines of his legs, wondering how he got so lucky.

"I had to do something," he mumbles when he realizes that Kaito is looking at him with amusement. "I hope you appreciated it."

"Of course I did, darling," Kaito drawls, leaning in to kiss him solidly on the mouth. When he pulls back, he says, "No promises about the marriage proposal, but I can be more subtle about anniversaries and birthdays if you want."

"Deal," Shinichi agrees, mostly distracted by how Kaito smirks at him and levers himself up to straddle him. He doesn't regret it until four years later, when Kaito paints WILL YOU MARRY ME? across the front of their house and wakes Shinichi up with a fireworks show.

...anyway.

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider dropping me a review, and I'll see you guys soon! - Luna