The heat couldn’t work without the power, and without the heat.... Who: Leon, D, and NPC!Chris What: Hunkering in for the snow storm When: Evening of June 24th, morning of June 25th Where: D's apartment Rating/Warning: Fairly low/none. Leon, as always, has a mouth. Status: Complete
When Leon had woken up the day before to find big, fluffy snowflakes falling from the sky, there was a brief moment of disbelief. It was fucking June. It was bad enough they got a month of snow every December, the last thing they needed was for a snowstorm in the middle of fucking June.
Of course, this wasn’t the first mid-summer snowstorm he’d lived through, and it was the OC, and so he went to his closet to pull out his winter clothes, dropped them off at D’s, and went to work. He didn’t like leaving Chris alone when the OC was doing one of it’s things, but all things considered, freak summer snowstorms weren’t that weird, and Chris and D could probably handle it. He did spend the night on D’s couch though, not wanting to make the drive home on the treacherous roads - he’d spent nearly the whole day helping take the calls for all the accidents - and not especially wanting to leave them alone unless things got weirder.
The next day seemed much the same, even if the snow and stopped falling. Leon considered calling in to work just in case, but he knew that it was going to be one of those days where all hands should probably be on deck, and so, after some hesitation, he left and made sure to make Chris promise to be careful.
And then the fog came. More than anything, Leon wanted to get back to D and Chris, but he couldn’t get away from work. He spent the day worrying about them (well, worrying about Chris, and what might happen to Chris if something happened to D). There were even more accidents than there had been the day before, and he was made to work overtime.
It was late by the time he got off work and managed to make it to D’s place. It was dark already, made even darker by the fog. It was thick as soup, and Leon’s headlights barely cut into it, and he drove to Anaheim well below the speed limit, wondering if it maybe would have been better for him to stay in Irvine for the night after all, but knowing that there was absolutely no way that he was going to leave Chris and D alone when things were so fucking weird.
“Jesus it’s cold out there,” he muttered when Chris opened the door and let him in, and he took off his gloves to rub his hands together. “You guys stayed out of that fog today, right?”
***
At first, the snow had been a novel change that even T-Chan and Pon-Chan had gone out to build a snowman in. T-Chan hadn’t wanted to bundle up, but D had insisted. Chris had been excited about it and D had made him a makeshift sled to slide down a hill on. They’d all gotten cold enough for soup and tea. D had made warm cinnamon buns and revelled in the enjoyment of it all, including spending time with the Detective without too much of an argument. He dismissed any soon-to-be correct theories that it would all take a turn.
By the next day, there was a thick fog that troubled him as it rolled in. With his darling Detective out in it, D stood vigil near a window, worriedly drinking his tea. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace (D had often wondered why anyone needed a fireplace here and he now had his answer) and warm cakes available, mostly due to D’s needing to busy himself with something and baking was it. For a while, he’d paced, until Chris had pointed out that he was making a track in the living room rug. Now he just sat quietly and let Chris, T-Chan, and Pon-Chan play a board game. Chris didn’t seem worried, but that was very little comfort for the Count.
Any time he could see the faint outline of headlights, he perked up some, but was only disappointed and more worried the later and foggier it became. When he finally heard a knock and saw Chris move to the door, D felt his heart leap into his throat. He watched as the Detective entered, covered in flurries.
D didn’t move just yet. He took it all in. The tall Detective, shaking snow from his gloves. Chris briefly hugging his leg. Snow caked on the Detective’s boots. The flurries in the Detective’s hat and hair. It wasn’t until Chris moved away to rejoin his game that D finally moved toward the man, trying to keep the look of relief from his face, but unable to keep it all away. The Count found himself at a pause, less than a foot from the Detective, suddenly uncertain as to why he was moving toward him. To hug him? To kiss him? To tell him how glad he was to see him?
Behind him, T-Chan was rolling his eyes and making little huffing noises, but D ignored him and reached to collect the Detective’s gloves and help him with his coat. D stood closer now, helping with buttons with a fluidity of practiced fingers after years of long nails.
“You had me scared to death,” he finally said, though not near as biting as he’d wanted to sound. Instead, he just sounded scared as he’d been.
***
"Sorry, they had me stay late," he muttered, looking down at D as his long, slim fingers unbuttoned his coat. He would have fought, but his own fingers were frozen despite the gloves and fumbling with his buttons was the last thing he wanted to do.
Besides, D was emitting a bit of heat, and it was kind of nice. "I would've called, but it's a madhouse out there. Didn't really have a chance to get away."
And then, as D finished with the last of Leon's buttons, Leon's face broke into a scheming grin, and he placed his icy fingers on the back of D's neck.
***
For a split second, D thought his Detective was going to do something else. Something nice. But then that grin, and then…
“GRAH!”
D’s teeth clenched and his eyes grew wide, his hair almost standing up on the ends of their strands. To say the Detective was freezing was a gross understatement. Ice would have been warmer!
“BRUTE!” he accused, barely able to get the word out.
And, just for that, the Count lunged forward, his warm arms wrapping fully around the Detective, just because he knew it bothered him. “Let me warm you up,” he purred out a breath, somehow managing not to stumble over the words. Leon was frozen everywhere so this was especially challenging.
***
Leon laughed loudly at D's reaction, though his laugh quickly turned to a yelp when D wrapped his arms around him. That backfired spectacularly. He felt the heat rising to his face in a rush, felt it infusing his chest and his stomach, and he attempted to pull away from D.
"Alright, alright, I'm warm!" he exclaimed. "You can let go of me!"
***
Even as Leon tried to pull away, D held tight to him. He particularly enjoyed that the Detective was starting to feel warm and, as the Detective struggled, the Count did release him, in hopes that the man would have to stumble back some in order to stop himself from falling over.
“Tea?” he asked sweetly as he crossed to the kitchen. Of course, he began pouring before Leon could say either yes or no. D’s Dreams had recently gifted him a horned valvertinger rabbit who flew over to see what was happening. Before his Dreams, R-Chan had served his two years in random and had gone on his way. This creature was not Q-Chan, but it had been a lovely surprise to wake up to him anyway.
***
Leon did stumble back, barely managing to catch himself on a piece of furniture before he tumbled right over, and then he scowled at D as he offered tea, absolutely certain that that had been D's intention, especially with the sickly-sweet way he offered tea.
"Yeah, sounds nice," Leon said. He was still a little chilled in the extremities, and something warm to hold onto sounded just about perfect.
Leon peered at what he assumed was Q-chan as it flew over, frowning to himself. "When did you get here?" he asked suspiciously, and then, "You look different in person."
***
D was about to suggest Leon go warm himself more by the fire, but when 2-Chan came flapping over, D laughed softly as he got the Detective’s tray together. More than tea, there was some warm apple pie, a sweet that America had introduced to him.
“Not Q-Chan,” D said.
“Kyu,” said 2-Chan.
“2-Chan,” D insisted.
They looked almost exactly alike, Q and 2, save for a small white spot on 2’s nose tip. It was easy to mistake the pair, but D had somehow instinctively known. He wasn’t sure why Q-Chan himself hadn’t shown up.
***
"Oh, well, good," Leon muttered, not entirely sure if he meant that. He always had the impression that Q-chan didn't especially like him, and had the uncanny feeling that Q-chan was usually glaring at him, or laughing at him, or sighing in exasperation. Still, Q-chan was at least familiar, and D's little Petshop entourage didn't exactly feel complete without him.
Leon sat down on the couch, making sure to take the spot closer to the fire, and was pleased when Chris immediately sat down next to him. He reached for the apple pie, not even complaining about the lack of real food.
"That fog out there is fucking weird," Leon said. "You guys didn't have to go out in it, did you?"
***
They could have stayed off the subject of fog for all D cared. As soon as it was breached, there was no avoiding it. D didn’t like the fog, not a bit. Earlier, he’d gone to lock up the shop real tight and make sure his animals were safe. A few, he brought home and they were all sitting around, but that was nothing unusual.
With a frown, D moved back to a cabinet and pulled out a small corked barrel that he brought over with the tea and treats. With it were square shaped cups and when D pulled the cork, clear liquid poured out from the barrel, smelling sharply of well aged sake.
Chris was answering with a nod, but he was gesturing toward D who’d been the one to go out. That was alright with D as it was likely no surprise to his darling Detective. D offered over a cup full of sake. Was his intention to get drunk with the Detective? Well, yes.
***
At least D had known better than to bring Chris out into it. Leon wouldn’t have thought he had - even in the dreams, where Leon was convinced that D was a serial killing drug lord, he was still certain that D would never do anything that would hurt or endanger Chris - aside from letting his brother come in constant contact with T-Chan, who was a whole other set of problems.
Even still, it didn’t quite sit right with Leon that D had gone out there. The fog itself seemed harmless, at the woman on the Network assured everyone it wasn’t hiding monsters, but it with all the snow and the ice made the roads so unsafe...
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he muttered in D’s general direction, and then blinked in surprise when D offered him a cup of sake. He didn’t think he’d ever drank with D - well, apart from the one time in his dreams with the moon-viewing party. He’d gotten drunk and then gone to see D, but…
“Thanks,” he said, taking the small cup and taking a whiff. It nearly made his eyes water. “Breaking out the good stuff, huh? And here I thought it was just gonna be tea all night again.”
***
“What?” D blinked at the Detective, too stunned after I’m glad you’re okay to do more than stare at him. He couldn’t decide if it was a true statement or not, but he found his words after another series of blinks.
“It will keep us warm,” D said plainly as he poured a cup for himself.
Chris asked what it was, placing his hand on the barrel. D smiled at him and reminded him he needed to have a bath and brush his teeth. It was getting late and the adults had some drinking to do.
***
“Damn rights it will,” Leon said, grinning, even as Chris pouted a little.
Still, the boy had lived with Leon long enough to recognize the smell of alcohol, even if he didn’t recognize what alcohol it was, and so after a long, tortured sigh, he hopped off the couch and went to run his bath.
Leon watched Chris disappear into the bathroom, and then shot D a toothy grin. “Bonzai!” he exclaimed, and tilted the cup down his throat. He coughed once, the alcohol a little stronger than he had expected, and then held out his cup for a refill.
***
Sometimes, the Detective could be so strange, strange enough that Count D started a little and T-Chan snarled. D didn’t correct T-Chan. Once the drink took hold of his darling Detective, things would look a lot different to the man.
D took his own drink. Pon-Chan went over to a basket to curl up with a cat.
The Count made no face and took up a green mochi to bite into. He offered one to his Detective. “To soak it up a little,” he explained shortly, watching Leon carefully.
***
Leon shot T-chan a glare, deciding that he’d have to keep an eye on the little asshole to make sure he didn’t attempt to make a meal out of his leg later.
“Nothing soaks up booze better than a greasy cheeseburger,” Leon remarked, but he took the mochi regardless, and bit into it. “I don’t think I even knew you had booze in this place,” Leon said, chewing. “You been holding out on me?”
***
Instead of answering, D gave the Detective another shot of sake, only after he’d taken the mochi.
“How was work?” he finally asked, genuinely curious. There were times Leon would already come in drunk after a bad night. One of the cats came over to lie down at Leon’s feet. She purred and butted her head against his ankle. In general, the animals liked to keep a distance from the Detective, but if he was drinking, they felt more comfortable in coming a little closer.
***
“Work sucked,” Leon grumbled, this time only sipping at the sake. He reached down absent-mindedly to scratch the cat behind his ears, thinking of the stray that still came by his apartment almost every day. She had been coming for Chris all this time, and she and Leon had never really gotten along, but Chris didn’t live there anymore and she still came by, and Leon still let her in and fed her.
“Then again, work always sucks when I’m stuck helping out on desk duty, especially when the phones are ringing off the damn hook. I’d rather be on the ground fucking doing something, not dealing with fucking morons all day because no one knows how to drive on the ice or in the fog.”
***
“Show me what you’d do,” D turned the Detective, his eyes shining with curiosity and slight fascination. So alright, he might be feeling a little of the sake as well and was now in the mood to enable a little bragging from his darling...well, his er, Detective.
D’s shoulders gave a soft rise, the only indication of a hiccup that he hid behind a loosely balled fist. More sake couldn’t hurt, even if he did feel a bit like he was betraying his own heritage. And so D poured more for himself and looked at the Detective. “What do you do with suspects who have hurt someone else?” he asked, waiting expectantly.
***
Leon’s mouth dropped open, trying to figure out exactly what D was asking for. It wasn’t like D had any perps in his living room, or any dummies that Leon could demonstrate on. It was just Leon and D, and while Leon had fantasized more than once about slapping a pair of cuffs on D and hauling him to the hoosegow, there was something different about doing it here, in his living room, when Leon hadn’t actually been able to prove that D had done anything wrong, and with Chris in the next room. He flushed, trying to get the thought out of his head.
“I left my cuffs in my car,” he muttered, knocking back the rest of his sake and taking the bottle so he could pour himself another. “What would you even wanna see, anyway?”
***
A fair question.
D tapped the tip of his finger against his own nearly perpetually smirking lips, regarding the Detective carefully. What was it really like? To be in the Detective’s cuffs? Did it hurt? Were they cold? How many had there been?
Feeling a bit of a vibe, D moved slightly closer and leaned in toward the Detective. So warm and lovely and it had been so long…
Oh, bother.
“I just want to be prepared,” he said, definitely not flushing, “just in case you decide to lock me up for something I didn’t do.”
***
Leon leaned back, his stomach in his throat, the heat definitely rising to his face as D slinked ever closer. His mouth was dry, and part of him wondered what D planned on doing next, and wondering what Leon would do to stop him. If he did anything.
He didn’t have to think on it long though, because suddenly the fire and the lights all blinked out at once, plunging them into complete darkness. A smash came from the direction of Chris’s room.
“Oh, what the fuck is this,” Leon snarled, reaching into his pocket for his lighter. He flicked it, once, twice, three times, and it didn’t so much as spark. Then he reached for his keys for the tiny LED flashlight on the end. That, at least, worked, and he shon it on D, swallowing a bit, wondering why he felt weirdly disappointed, before turning.
“Chris, everything alright, bud?”
I’m okay, Chris’ quivering voice sounded in his head.
***
D had moved back to his original spot. The blackout didn’t phase him and the Detective was checking on Chris so D didn’t need to do much. He could feel 2-Chan land gently on his shoulder and scratch behind his little bat ears.
D turned his head slightly to look at his Dear Detective’s failed flame. For his part, there was no disappointment or confusion. It was as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t been inches from the Detective’s lips. What a mistake that would have been.
After a few breaths, the Count stood and walked with cakes toward Chris’ room. In Chris’ room were Chinese oil lamps. D placed the cakes down and tried to light a lamp for Chris and offered him a softer smile when it wouldn’t light. Of course, Chris couldn’t see him so the Count placed his hand on Chris’ shoulder. “You’re very brave,” he told Chris. T-Chan herumphed in disagreement, but D ignored him.
They found Chris’ phone and used the light on it. D used it for the moment to look around Chris’ room for anything that may have broken in the crash.
***
Leon was already sitting on Chris’ bed next to him, his arm around Chris’ shoulders when D came in. He shot D a grateful smile when he came in with cakes and a comforting touch. Leon might not always like D, but his presence was good for Chris and having the two of them there would probably help.
The flashlight on Chris’s phone was brighter than the tiny one on the end of Leon’s keys, so he flicked off the pale blue light and put it back in his pocket. “What else could possibly happen,” Leon grumbled, more to himself than anyone else, and then immediately regretted asking. If the OC hadn’t been planning anything else, it would now that he asked the question.
As if to answer, a particularly vicious gust of wind rattled Chris’ window, and Leon got up to check it. There was a slight chill creeping in around the edges of the window, and he frowned at the window panes. The heat couldn’t work without the power, and without the heat....
He managed to set his face into a more carefree expression when he turned around. “We should build a blanket fort,” he said. “What do you think, Chris? It’s been a while since the last time we did that.”
***
D shot the Detective a Look for tempting fate. The wind answered, perhaps in warning not to ask for anything further or they just might get it.
But the idea of a blanket fort interested D enough to allow his annoyance to be put aside, for now. The smirk on his face almost broke into a smile. Almost. It was in his eyes, though.
“I have extra blankets,” he said, then he was gone to collect them. He also pulled a table out to the middle of the living room, then another small one in case Chris wanted to dive into his own area.
***
Chris seemed to perk up at the suggestion of a blanket fort, and Leon led him out to the living room, propping up the phone on the mantle of the fireplace so that it could illuminate the room. It cast long, creepy shadows, but it was probably better than nothing.
Leon pulled out some chairs from the kitchen as well, and instructed Chris to go find a bunch of pillows.
“You know, my dad used to make blanket forts with me when the power went out,” Leon told D as he started arranging the blankets.
***
“Were you close to him?” D asked as he neatly threw a blanket over one of the tables, then another on the other table, each in one smooth motion. They weren’t discussing D’s father, but the older Count D came to mind as they spoke. If the lights were out, there were candles but no fear. There was simply no room for it and expressing it would garner no sympathy. For D, the darkness felt comforting, but unlike his father, D felt some sympathy for Chris.
They couldn’t light a candle, but D kept their phone lights on and opened the curtains so they could at least see the moon.
***
“Pretty close, yeah,” Leon said. He grabbed a couple books from D’s shelf to secure the blankets onto the chair. “He used to take me on these camping trips where all we’d pack would be the beer and the soda. We’d have to do all our own hunting and foraging for a week. He’s the reason I became a cop, you know.” They never talked about his dad in the Dreams, and Leon sometimes wondered why that was. “What about your folks?” Now that he thought about it, he didn’t really know anything about D’s family. He knew D’s grandpa in the dreams looked exactly like D, and so did his sister - minus the fact that D’s sister had tits and was weirdly kind of hot. “You have a sister here, too?”
***
D stiffened.
How did the Detective know? Had he dreamed of her?
“Does it matter?” he huffed. That was likely answer enough. D finished placing blankets and pillows in their tent. Their tent. Soon, the batteries would be gone. Then what? Anyway, D didn’t want to talk about a sister or his parents or anything else pertaining to his family.
***
Leon's shoulders tensed. Of course. What had he been thinking? He should have known better to make any attempt to get to know D better. He'd thought they were having a pretty good night so far, but it wasn't like they were friends or anything, and he had no idea what possessed him to start acting like they were.
"I guess it doesn't," he said coldly, not looking at D and feeling like an idiot.
It was then when Chris came back, arms laden with pillows. Even T-chan had a throw pillow clutched between his teeth and Pon-chan carried one pressed to her chest. Chris paused, looking between the two of them as if he sensed some sort of tension.
"What do you think?" Leon asked his brother, gesturing to the fort and puffing out his chest a little, glad that he had something to take his mind off D for a second.
***
D was just about to cross to Leon and force those eyes on him, but Chris was ready for his tent and the tent was ready for him. All the better, probably. Putting his hands on his Darling Detective just then, when D was vulnerable, wasn’t a very good idea.
Somehow, they’d gone from drinking sake to this. Usually D would just find something sweet to deal with his overload of emotion, but this was different.
What’s going on? Chris’ voice snapped D out of his own self absorption. Where there was a frown, D’s little smile returned. He tucked hair behind his own ear.
“Your brother worked very hard on your tent,” he told Chris, effectively changing the subject back. “If you don’t want to sleep in it, I will.”
***
Leon frowned at D, and then sighed. “D helped,” he said. “And I think it’s probably best if we all sleep in the blanket fort tonight.” He didn’t know how for sure how good the insulation in D’s apartment was, but he suspected there were only a few hours before the place would start to freeze.
He still avoided looking at D. He might not like the guy, but it’s not like he wanted D to freeze in his own apartment.
Chris looked between them, still not sure what was going on, but relatively sure that whatever it is probably wasn’t a big deal, as far as Leon-and-D fights went. Sounds like it’ll be fun, he said, grabbing Leon’s hand and then reaching to grab D’s.
***
Something faintly unpleasant pulled at D’s chest. He’d felt it once or twice in his life, he was sure, and he didn’t much like it. A sense of belonging was too foreign for D to recognize and he was lying to himself if he thought that’s what this was. The man who wasn’t looking at him, his Darling Detective, would slap a pair of cuffs on him without hesitation. Even here, D was the same, and held his secrets close to his vest.
But to know someone he’d jump in front of danger for who was human?
Well.
What was he to feel? He stared down at Chris, that smile disappearing again. How did people live with that crushing sensation in their chest?
***
Leon glanced at D as Chris pulled them into the fort, reminded for the first time in a what felt like a while about how little he actually knew about the other man, both in the dreams and out of them. Hell, Leon still didn't even know what D stood for.
He turned off the flashlight on his phone and hoped the battery would last until the power came back - he'd need it if work called back - but he pushed aside one of the blankets so the moonlight could filter in while he told Chris campfire ghost stories until it was time to fall asleep. Then, he let the blanket fall closed to keep their heat trapped inside, and fell asleep, Chris sandwiched between Leon and D so that he could stay warm.
Leon didn't know when Chris had gotten up to curl up with T-chan and Pon-chan in the separate area D had made for him. He didn't even think of it when he half-woke up, still too asleep to make sense of where he was or what he was doing there, but cognizant enough to know that he was cold, and that whoever was there under his arm was warm. The incense D used at his shop clung to their hair, and he pulled them in closer to him, burying his nose in their hair, breathing in deeply and almost drifting back to sleep.
***
T-Chan and Pon-Chan were surprisingly quiet through the night. D remained awake for some time, staring up at the nothingness of the dark. Sleep took him before Chris left to the adjacent blanket fort to be with his friends.
It was a flutter of warm breath that woke D again. It was dark, but D knew who it was. His Darling Detective was snoring softly next to him. Over the smell of incense, he could smell the not so unpleasant smell of Leon’s skin close to him. Leon. D didn’t move. He stayed under the warm weight of Leon’s strong arm. There was that terrible feeling again, like the heaviest weight on D’s chest. He’d been attracted to people and had even liked them, but it was never anything like this.
Was Leon asleep? It was difficult to tell after the adjustment Leon had just made, but D took a chance and moved even closer, until he knew it was too much. His nose was nuzzled against the curve of Leon’s neck. He brought his fingers up and nearly sighed when he allowed himself to slide them into Leon’s thick hair. D bit his lip and withdrew his fingers almost as quickly as he’d put them there. If the Detective woke up just then, he’d probably jerk away in disgust and D didn’t think he could take it.
***
Leon let out a contented hum when he felt the nails on his scalp, nuzzling in deeper, and then they were gone and he frowned, wondering where the could have gone. Between the claws and the smell of incense, there had to be a part that knew it was D he was waking up to, but the realization was a long time coming, as if his subconscious was trying very hard to keep the conscious from realizing it, knowing that it would all be over as soon as Leon realized.
It dawned on him slowly, but when it did, his eyes flew open and he quickly scrambled away, not out of disgust, like D might think, but more out of shock, and he stared at D, wide-eyed. He quickly glanced down at himself to make sure he was still clad in the jeans and t-shirt he remembered falling asleep in, and then grabbed one of the many pillows that filled the fort to hold in his lap when he realized his jeans didn't do quite as good a job at hiding his morning wood as he hoped they would have.
The hangover came a moment later, aggravated by the sudden spike in Leon's heart rate, and he groaned, clutching the sides of his head.
*** Was D dreaming? His Dear Detective was making all sorts of happy sounds instead of pulling away, at least for a few seconds before he did. D sighed and sat up, Like Officer Orcott, he was still in what he’d gone to bed in. Even his hair was still a silky sheen and he didn’t have quite the problem the Detective did in the morning, although he was sure he wasn’t quite as well endowed either.
And that was quite enough of those thoughts.
When the Detective groaned and clutched the sides of his head, D crawled out of the warmth of their fort. He found enough light from blue hour to show him that no one else was awake yet which was no surprise as they’d been up quite late. The Count slid his feet into slippers and pulled on a warm robe before crossing to the kitchen to start a tea that would help with the Detective’s hangover. The Detective still hated him. Everything was normal. Evan 2-Chan was on the counter with R-Chan, both of them snuggled up under a tea towel, snoring.
D had never bothered to check 2-Chan’s gender. Oh dear.
***
Leon gave it a moment after D left the fort, trying hard not to think about how chilly he was now that D's body heat was gone. Then, once he managed to compose himself, he climbed up out of the fort and stumbled toward the bathroom.
He was a little more with it when he emerged a few minutes later, and he sat down at D's table and slumped back in the kitchen chair, wondering if he should say something about what had just happened or just pretend it had never happened.
"So, uh…" he settled for, after a long minute.
***
Pretend it had never happened was what D was going with. It was easier to do that than fall under false assumptions and hope. How stupid of D to even entertain certain ideas, especially when it came to humans.
With electricity gone and fires not working, D had to resort to a battery powered hot plate. It didn’t quite make the tea hot, but it was warm by the time D turned around, a little too much of a smile on his face.
“Good morning, Dear Detective,” he greeted cheerfully as he moved over to serve the tea. “For your sake hangover.” It would taste awful. Good.
***
A shiver ran down Leon's spine at that smile. He didn't trust it at all. It was the one D sported when they'd first met, and it wasn't genuine at all. It meant that D was hiding something, and when D hid something, it was never good.
Except, in this case, Leon thought he might know what D was hiding. He sank down deeper in his chair, like a child being scolded, and wondered if it was really okay to not talk about it.
And then the tea was put in front of him and he frowned suspiciously at it, poking at the cup with a spoon, looking up at D with his fake smile again.
"It's not poisoned, is it?"
***
“My Darling Detective,” D purred sweetly, “If I’d wanted to poison you, I’d have done it by now.”
To prove that there was no poison for the Detective to suspect, D poured his own cup and sat down to drink it, the smile still on his face. In the center of the table were some crumble cookies that D had purchased the day before. They’d been warm before, but they were now cold so D wasn’t diving in the way he might otherwise.
***
D's saccharine tone didn't exactly instill confidence, but Leon took a sip of the tea anyway, made a face, and immediately spit it back out into the cup.
"You might not be trying to poison me, but you're obviously trying to kill me. What the hell is this stuff, anyway?" He asked, not raising his voice. It hurt his head too much to even consider yelling.
***
“Well, now it’s spit,” D answered with a roll of his eyes. He stood up to pour out what the Detective had spat up and used a clean cup to pour more in. “One of these days,” D said as he squeezed a little honey into the cup to help it be more palatable, “You’re going to have to learn to trust me.”
And with that, as almost an acknowledgement of the night before, D pressed his lips against the underside of the Detective’s ear, then took his own seat again.
***
Leon's cheeks turned pink and he sat up a little straighter in the chair, his fingers brushing against the spot D's lips had just touched. His skin tingled, and he looked at D with shock.
And then was uncomfortably aware that D was probably making fun of him, and was just trying to get a rise out of him.
He slouched down again, and took his tea cup. The honey didn't help much, but it did help a little. Leon would drink the entire cup.