Warning: If you don't like boy love (shounen-ai, slash, yaoi, whatever you want to call it), back out now.

Author's Notes: The M rating is for the adult theme and is probably over kill. But I don't want to get into trouble, even if other people abuse the rating system on this site all the time.

...

Make You Real

Kaitou Kid stares.

Shinichi shifts uncomfortably.

Kid stares some more, his burning gaze bringing heat up into Shinichi's face.

"How long?" Kid asks finally, breaking the silence between them.

"A few hours," Shinichi replies. "At best."

Kid breathes deeply, calmly, but Shinichi can see that it's an effort to do so.

"And you came here? Instead of..." Kid trails off.

Shinichi doesn't answer that. He doesn't need to. Kid is just trying to understand, to convince himself of reality.

Shinichi feels it too. The floating sense of surrealism.

"Tantei-kun..." Kid smiles then. "No... Shinichi..."

He shivers. Kid's voice came out like a caress, little more than a breathy whisper.

The thief takes a helpless step forward.

Thumps and yelling reach their ears. The sounds of pursuit.

Kid meets Shinichi's gaze, something desperate and yearning, almost panicked in his face.

"Where?" Shinichi asks; taking the step he's never dared to take before.

Relief. "Your place," Kid replies immediately.

Shinichi shakes his head. "No. There's someone staying there."

Kid curses, turns his head to look out at the sea of Tokyo lights. He rattles off an address.

Shinichi memorizes it instantly. He automatically places it in a more affordable neighbourhood mostly occupied by Tokyo University students.

He avoids thinking on it any more than that.

"I'll be there," he says, but he's already talking to the air.

Shinichi doesn't run, but he's already punching the address into his phone as he leaves the site of Kaitou Kid's latest heist. Directions, the fastest route via public transit, flash up on the screen.

For a moment Shinichi wishes he could prevail on someone for a ride. Just to save time. To gain time with Kid.

But even now he can't do that. Won't put Kid in danger like that.

By the time he reaches the door he is winded because he'd given up on not running those last few meters from the bus to this door.

Shinichi very carefully avoids looking at the nameplate by the door. He raises a hand to ring the doorbell but it opens before he can.

It's Shinichi's turn to stare.

Somehow he has never realized just how blue those eyes are. They gaze back at him steadily, completely unhidden.

Shinichi opens his mouth to say something, anything. But nothing comes out.

Kid – because this is Kid, even out of uniform – smiles softly at him.

"Come in Shinichi."

It is all the invitation he could ever want or need.

Stepping into the apartment isn't at all like stepping into another world. Shinichi, however, indulges the perverse thought that it ought to be.

He is still plagued by the sense of surrealism.

The sound of the lock clicks behind him as Shinichi slips out of his shoes.

He turns then.

Kid stands with his back to the door.

The two look at each other.

Kid has that strangely intense expression back in his eyes.

"I didn't read the nameplate," Shinichi blurts abruptly. It's an offering. He will do his best to let Kid keep what secrets he can.

If Kid wants to.

Kid's eyes widen then relax into a soft appearance. He smiles gently and chuckles just a bit.

Shinichi can feel himself blushing.

Kid moves forward, a continuance of the motion he'd aborted earlier. He doesn't stop until he is in Shinichi's personal space. Breathing the same air.

They aren't touching, but it is a very, very close thing.

Shinichi swallows and does his best to ignore the sudden heat.

"I suppose I should say it then," Kid says. "My name is Kaito. Kuroba Kaito. And it is my pleasure to meet you, Shinichi."

"Kaito," Shinichi repeats. "Kuroba Kaito."

Kid's – Kaito's eyes light up.

Shinichi finds himself smiling at the sheer joy in Kaito's face.

Such a simple thing. Calling him by his name.

But Shinichi of all people knows better. Knows what a name can mean.

Kaito's apartment is a small bachelor affair. Wherever Kaito does his preparation for his heists, it certainly isn't here.

The small space is no issue for them.

They sit at Kaito's kotatsu, facing each other.

Shinichi catalogues the subtle differences between Kaito's looks and his. The most obvious thing is the hair, but there are other differences. Kaito's jaw is slightly more angular and his eyes hold just the smallest tint of violet.

Small things, things that no one else would ever notice but made Kaito's face Kaito.

Shinichi is so lost in his own thoughts that he jumps when he feels warm fingers tentatively touch against his own.

Blushing, he opens his mouth to say something but is once again left speechless.

Kaito is looking at his hand, tracing its contours with his eyes.

Shinichi, taken off guard, looks as well, and is caught by the way Kaito's fingertips are ghosting around his pointer finger.

Something deep and instinctive pools in Shinichi's gut. He scoots around the kotatsu to be closer to Kaito, never breaking the contact with his movement.

Kaito is smiling. Not one of Kid's smirks, but an honest barely there smile that speaks volumes about what is happening between them.

Despite himself Shinichi leans into Kaito's side, just a little, just enough to take away the edge from his desperate urge for more solid contact. He could, he knows, stop Kaito's slow exploration of his hand. Could easily grasp that hand in a firm grip.

But he doesn't want to break the spell the magician is weaving.

And it is a spell. Kaito's fingers twirl around Shinichi's, tracing their outline then moving to carefully turn Shinichi's hand palm-up.

Shinichi swallows, watching, feeling, as Kaito traces the lines of his palm. As a thumb brushes over the dip in the center.

Soundless, Kaito reaches for Shinichi's other hand.

Shinichi offers it freely.

This hand, too, receives careful attention. Fingertips run over his nails, testing their smoothness, then run down his fingers, tickling lightly at the center of his palm.

There are twenty-five hundred nerve receptors per square centimetre in the human hand.

Shinichi can feel every one.

"Kaito..."

Kaito looks up into Shinichi's eyes. He grins. "Yes, Shinichi?"

Shinichi shifts, trying ask for something, anything more without actually saying the words.

Kaito chuckles, moving his hands up to trace Shinichi's jaw.

Shinichi leans into the touch then jerks away when he realizes what he's done.

Blue eyes sparkle at him in amusement. Firm hands reach up and cup his face.

"Let me do this," Kaito whispers. "Let me make you real."

"I... I can't," Shinichi whispers back. "I could change back at any moment."

"Exactly." Kaito leans forward, pulling Shinichi closer with gentle pressure to the back of his head.

Shinichi doesn't fight it.

The kiss is firm and hot and leaves Shinichi trembling.

But it chases away the floating sense of surrealism.

And leaves only Kaito.

Shinichi groans into the second kiss. Mewls as it turns into a third and fourth, hisses in appreciation when Kaito starts to nibble and lick.

Then Shinichi is sprawled out on the floor with Kaito on top of him. Their kisses are hot and full of desperation and want.

Kaito pulls back.

"Shinichi... Shinichi please..."

Shinichi can hear it in Kaito's voice. The echo of what he is feeling.

"Okay," he says, breathy but certain.

And he melts into Kaito's touch.