Work Text:
The first time this happened was in Poe's novel.
Chuuya had hated Ranpo the entire time he was there. First, he didn't have his power, and oh, the horror on his face when he realized that ! Second, he had to find no fewer than 500 criminals, all of whom wanted him dead. Finally, the detective had done all this in a very delicate situation for the Mafia, where their Boss's life was at stake. Worse still, Ranpo was boring, arrogant, and…all the worst flaws Chuuya could attribute to a person. Was he worse than Dazai ? It was comparable ! Good grief, though, this detective was intelligent, and that was almost admirable.
It was a fictional world. Everything resembled Yokohama, but it was so different at the same time. So, it hadn't been difficult to find his way around the book, but sometimes it was almost disturbing to see these favorite spots so...divergent. The mafioso considered Ranpo a full-fledged criminal he had to kill, because it was his fault he was in this situation after all ! But to do that, he had to find him... The latter always seemed to know where to run, to know when Chuuya would arrive, because he could never catch Ranpo. Chuuya wanted to rip that smile off his face, break his bones too, and just get out of this book, leaving that bastard detective's corpse here.
The redhead didn't know how long he'd been trapped in that book, how many criminals he'd already encountered, or how many he still had to find. But he had one thing he wanted more than any of those murderers: Ranpo Edogawa, the bastard who'd locked him up there. He still had that stupid grin playing on his lips, candy wrappers sticking out of his pockets, and above all, that proud face that seemed to completely disregard the fact that he was facing a Mafia executive. Was Chuuya just an insect to him ? That's crazy, he's a Mafia boss, for Christ's sake ! A criminal himself.
After that altercation, they had to share a small house that seemed to be the only place where they could be safe, where the criminals didn't seem able to get in. At least, that was Ranpo's conclusion, and given his intelligence (though the redhead hadn't wanted to admit it), he'd had no choice but to trust him. They each had their own room, went out without the other's permission because they didn't need to, and didn't really talk to each other. But aside from that, Ranpo was a terrible roommate who left his clothes and food wrappers lying around, never tidied up, and never cleaned ! Chuuya had to restrain himself more than once from killing him, strangling him, and all that... The only reason he hadn't done it was, in fact, a reason he never admitted, not even to himself.
And that's precisely what led them to this.
It was a day when Ranpo was the first to get out. Chuuya didn't know exactly when, but he didn't care at all. He himself had managed to find other criminals and he had sworn and cursed under his breath, talking to himself and wondering when he would get out of this shitty book (he also said he would probably kill Poe on his way out). At some point, without knowing exactly how, the redhead ended up in the same place as Ranpo. Criminals attacked them, the detective had fled (obviously) before returning to the scene accompanied by the police. And oh, Chuuya had never wanted to tear him limb from limb so badly…
Throughout the entire discussion with the police and the men who had attacked them, Ranpo had done nothing but take all the credit as if Chuuya hadn't been the one to beat them up, and worse still, he had only made allusions to the fact that the redhead was stupid and thoughtless. All this because apparently, these bastards weren't the real criminals but just people paid by them to kill them ! How could Chuuya have guessed that ?! Well, Ranpo said it was so easy to know and deduce...
But the way he kept saying he was stupid, that he was just a brute and thoughtless… It was all too much, an accumulation of things that made him explode just as the police were leaving to search for the real criminals. Ranpo acted like he was above him, above everyone else, while Chuuya was a Port Mafia executive, a dangerous ability user everyone feared. But Ranpo ? Well, he was simply different, unbearably different.
“You bastard… Stop acting like you’re better than everyone else !”
Chuuya said, his tone firm and stern, furiously grabbing Ranpo’s shirt collar and slamming him against the dirty alley wall. The detective had let himself be taken advantage of, and Chuuya knew perfectly well that it was because he didn't really know how to defend himself physically anyway; otherwise, he wouldn't have run away every time a criminal became violent. A smirk appeared on his face as he replied casually, as if it were obvious.
"It's not my fault everyone's so stupid, Mr. Fancy Hat."
That silly nickname again—the detective had never actually called him by his first name, only by that ridiculous nickname. But could he really blame him for that ? He did wear fancy hats, after all. Chuuya didn't really react to that; no, what made him tighten his grip on the front of Ranpo's shirt were the words he had just spoken.
“Everyone, huh ?! I’m not some damn collegue you can look down on, I’m a Mafia executive, asshole !”
“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re not an executive here and you’re not a Mafia member. You’re just a guy being chased by criminals in a fictional world, trying to find them so he can get out of here and save his boss in the real world~”
Again, Ranpo said it as if it were obvious, and in fact, it was. Here, there was no Mafia, no Mori, no orders from him…None of that. But Chuuya remained true to his principles: he would never admit to Ranpo that he was right.
“Fucking detective…You’re in the same boat ! Don’t look down on me…I’m not as stupid as you think.”
“I hope so, Mr. Fancy Hat~”
The redhead gritted his teeth as he pressed the detective harder against the wall, pinning him with his wrist wrapped in his shirt. He knew he’d at least slightly hurt Ranpo, because his jaw was slightly clenched. But damn, that smile never left his face. That arrogant, attractive face, which clearly deserved a slap. They stared into each other’s eyes, malice in Ranpo’s, while there was only pure rage in Chuuya’s. But Ranpo could see there was something else—though he couldn’t determine what it was at that moment.
“Stop pissing me off… The moment I get out of this damn book, I’ll kill you and your Guild buddy. After all, I’d be a mafia executive again, right ? And I’d have my powers back. I’d make you regret locking me up here and…making a fool of me !”
Ranpo’s breathing quickened slightly due to Chuuya’s firm grip—who was definitely a muscular man, the detective could tell just by the way he didn’t even tremble as he tightened his tie and fabric. Despite the redhead being slightly shorter, he had this powerful aura thanks to his stamina and build—to think he was four years younger.
“Really…? I can’t wait to see this~ You think you can take down the Agency’s pillar so easily ?”
Chuuya had only one desire at that moment: to punch him right in the head and break his jaw to wipe that stupid, cheeky grin off his face.
“Shut your fucking mouth.”
Chuuya managed to say it, his voice almost breaking as anger and frustration took over. Ranpo could see it, and he felt that strong urge to kill and beat him emanating from the mafioso. The detective had always enjoyed testing his opponents' limits, which was why he always teased them to the point where they wanted to hit him—but usually, his colleagues were there to protect him. But here, there were none of them. However, Ranpo wanted to see if Chuuya would really do what he wanted to do. Maybe Ranpo wouldn't leave here dead, but he'd probably end up with a bruise. Then he laughs, a horrible sneer in Chuuya's ears, but his next words are like a fire that suddenly ignites.
"Make me~”
For a split second, Chuuya’s eyes widened. Of course, there were several ways to do it: break his jaw, punch him in the stomach since he was in the perfect position—or in the face, since Ranpo wasn’t very tall compared to him.
But you see, in this world, Chuuya and Ranpo were actually the only real beings. Here, they weren’t real people. They didn’t have any real conversations, just like the NPCs. Although everything seemed so real: the places, the people, the occasional blows the redhead had received, it wasn’t real. This whole world wasn’t real. The people here were just strange, and everyone seemed to want to kill Chuuya and looked at him like he was a monster or something. In fact, it was like he was alone.
Terribly alone.
He didn't want to admit it, he never admits it, but he needed contact. Chuuya needed proof that he was real, that all of this wasn't just a load of fiction. He needed a real conversation, and he'd held back so many times from starting a pointless argument with Ranpo in this house just for the sake of having a discussion with him—with someone.
And that's why he hadn't hit Ranpo until now, and why he hadn't done so in this situation either.
Instead, without warning, without even giving his own brain a chance to process it, Chuuya used his grip on Ranpo's collar to pull him closer, closing the small gap between them. Ranpo's eyes suddenly widened in surprise when he felt the other's lips crash violently against his, without any gentleness whatsoever. It was just pressure, as strong as Chuuya's grip on his collar, and neither of them moved beyond that.
The detective couldn't bear the fact that he hadn't anticipated this.
He'd expected the mafioso to hit him or slam him to the ground to shut him up… But no, instead, he'd kissed him. Or at least, if Ranpo could call it that—it was more like the clash of two pairs of lips. While he was still pondering how he hadn't seen it coming, Chuuya had slowly pulled away; and for a split second, Ranpo's wide, surprised eyes looked into his—and Chuuya seemed to realize then the enormous mistake he'd just made. Then, once again without warning, Chuuya had dropped his garment and literally run away.
The detective stood there, rooted to the spot. Although he had a hunch about what might have provoked such a reaction from the other, he simply couldn't bring himself to say it, nor could he pursue him to ask.
The executive hadn't returned home that evening, but when he came back the next day, Ranpo wasn't there. And it wasn't until later that day that Chuuya realized he'd stepped out of that book.
The second time it happened, it was more of an act of revenge.
It was a beautiful day. The sky was blue, there weren't any clouds in sight, and it was quite hot, even very hot. Chuuya had just finished a short mission with the Black Lizard when he started strolling through the backstreets of Yokohama, a small neighborhood with cafes, bakeries, and other small shops like secondhand clothing stores. Luckily, he had his hat on; he probably would have already gotten heatstroke in this heat…
The redhead wasn't wearing his long vest over his shoulders, but he had the rest of his outfit. Maybe he should ask Mori for a special outfit for summer ? He'd see in due time; for the moment, he wanted something cool, something to cool his body and his brain, which was still aching from the mission (it was short, but Chuuya didn't like arguing with Tachihara).
After a few minutes of looking at the menu of a random outdoor café (the executive remembered that Mori had once bought something for Elise there), he chose something fruity: a red berry milkshake. Chuuya didn't really have a sweet tooth, but he just needed something refreshing and flavorful—not just a bottle of soda or a beer. He'd much rather spend the money on a substantial fruit drink that would complement his favorite wine.
Actually, this smoothie was really good and very refreshing. It tasted a bit like ice cream, but that was all Chuuya needed. There was also whipped cream on top. It was crowded; the weather was nice, so everyone was out, and out of necessity, due to the lack of space, the executive sat down on a bench along the street. He could see people passing by, children running and playing, merchants selling their wares… It was a peaceful and tranquil moment, and Chuuya thought to himself then that his city was truly magnificent, that seeing people enjoying themselves there was pleasant and beautiful to behold.
“Oh, isn’t that Mr. Fancy Hat ?”
In a fraction of a second, his moment of relaxation was ruined. He could recognize that tone anywhere, just from what had happened a few months earlier. That bastard had even locked him in a book ! Chuuya hesitated to answer, but more than anything, he hesitated to run away.
He hadn't seen Ranpo since the incident in the book. Since…what he'd done. For days, even after breaking free from that curse, the redhead had wondered how he could have done such a thing. Luckily, he hadn't crossed paths with that detective again, but he knew he couldn't run away from him forever. They were their main adversaries, after all ! The executive had managed to stop thinking about what he'd done, but hearing Ranpo's voice now, he had a crazy urge to flee, convinced the detective was going to make fun of him for the kiss Chuuya had initiated.
"Damn detective, hello."
He said in a neutral tone, taking a sip of his fruity drink, without even looking in Ranpo's direction. However, he could feel the latter sit down right next to him on the bench, and damn, the executive just wanted to disappear, and he hoped that asshole wouldn't bring it up.
“It's been a while, hasn't it ? Too bad you didn't die in that book~ But deep down, I knew you'd make it out alive. You're not that weak !”
His words were followed by a laugh. Chuuya didn't know whether to take it as a compliment, since the detective mentioned that he'd make it out alive without any trouble, but it was the end of his sentence that Chuuya didn't like. He tightened his grip on his cup, and he thought it best to ignore Ranpo's sarcastic comments.
“Why are you here ? Get the fuck out of here.”
“Well, it’s so hot. I went out to get ice cream with Kyoka-chan and Atsushi-kun, but I don’t know where they went.”
He had simply said so, without asking Chuuya what he was doing there. But he must have deduced it just from the smoothie the other man was holding, or even… Because he's smart, damn it. He himself wasn't surprised to learn that the detective was there for ice cream; after all, in the book, he had learned that the latter had an unconditional love for sweets, candy, and all that diabetes-causing stuff. The mafioso hadn't responded, and Ranpo had nothing more to say, plunging them into a silence that was strangely pleasant. But deep down, Chuuya had this urgent need to escape, because he still wasn't safe from Rapo bringing up the subject.
“So what ? That doesn't justify why you're sitting with me on this bench. I haven't forgiven you for locking me up, get out now !”
Chuuya exclaimed, before taking a sip of his drink. The taste hit his taste buds again, and right after, he heard Ranpo chuckle—but it wasn't anything malicious or mocking.
“You're really strange, Mr. Fancy Hat~”
Chuuya frowned, and this time, he turned his head toward Ranpo. Ranpo wasn't wearing the same clothes he'd worn in the book—at least, only the top was different. He was wearing just a loose white T-shirt, but he still had those baggy brown pants and that same lame hat on his head. The detective was staring straight ahead (certainly a non-existent point, since his eyes were closed). In the novel, Chuuya had never really taken the time to observe him, given that Ranpo just had that smirk plastered all the time on his face, which made the other want to slap him But he seems rather peaceful right now, and the sun only serves to highlight Ranpo's delicate, youthful features.
He's not going to ask him to explain himself—and he hopes Ranpo won't, because deep down, the redhead knew perfectly well that's what he was referring to.
"Tsk. Whatever you say."
Chuuya wasn't going to waste any more time on this discussion. He was going to finish his smoothie and just leave, because after all, he had no business sitting on a bench with some guy from the enemy camp. He took a sip of his drink—without the straw this time, so he could get some whipped cream. That stuff is way too sweet, but it didn't really hurt him to have some sometimes. After all, a little sugar never hurt anyone (but you have to start worrying when consumption gets as high as Ranpo's, seriously, Chuuya doesn't know how it's possible to eat so much sugar without getting sick or getting sick !)
"Hey, Mr. Fancy Hat. Is your stuff good ? Can I have a little taste~?"
The redhead's first instinct was to put his cup further away.
"No ! It's mine, go get one if you want ! But leave me alone, damn it."
The detective just chuckled, amused by Chuuya's childish reaction. He couldn't deny that he would have reacted the same way; after all, he wasn't the type to share his snacks.
"You're really mean."
"I don't care."
The executive took another sip, but Ranpo hadn't bothered him much to get more. However, he had looked at Chuuya strangely—or at least, the mafioso thought there was a glint in his eyes he didn't recognize—one he'd never seen in the book when they interacted.
"What ? Is there something on my face ?"
Chuuya had asked, confused, and the detective had just smiled.
"Yes. You have whipped cream."
Oh—the executive didn't think any further, embarrassed, and with the tips of his fingers, he tried to find where the whipped cream had been left. He heard another infuriating laugh from Ranpo—was that bastard making fun of him again ?
"No, no. Wait, here~”
The detective’s hand moved to his face, and a sort of alarm bell seemed to ring in Chuuya’s head. But he didn’t react, or at least he didn’t move, and let Ranpo’s fingers touch his cheek. It was already hot, and his fingertips were just as hot. Chuuya had hesitated to push it away, but it seemed this detective wasn’t making fun of him.
But oh, maybe he should have backed away. Because in a fraction of a second, Ranpo’s palm was on his cheek, and suddenly, it was even hotter.
Chuuya was so surprised that he didn't move, didn't react. His mind was reeling, but he seemed incapable of pushing Ranpo away at that moment. It felt like several minutes, but it had actually only lasted a few seconds, during which Ranpo simply pressed his lips against his own. When the detective stepped back, Chuuya was greeted by that smirk, while he himself stared at Ranpo with wide eyes.
Oh, he definitely hadn't expected that.
"Revenge~"
Ranpo murmured, before standing up, and under the shocked gaze of the mafioso, he walked off toward other markets—but then Chuuya lost sight of him.
Revenge, huh ? That detective was a real jerk. But how could he blame him ? The redhead had done the exact same thing. He didn't like this feeling of warmth in his heart, and even less the fact that he was so easily fooled by that asshole.