HakuKai Week 2022, created with @xnicowritesx to celebrate the relationship between Hakuba Saguru and Kuroba Kaito (graphics courtesy of @kuroko99!). The following are the prompts:
September 18 - Black and White
September 19 - Costumes
September 20 - Dreams
September 21 - Confession
September 22 - Birds
September 23 - Handcuffs
September 24 - Free Day
FAQ:
Q: How do I submit?
A: Either tag it #hakukaiweek22 or add it to the AO3 collection here! Feel free to @xnicowritesx too!
Q: Do I need to create works for all events?
A: No, you can create as many or as few as you want.
Q: What if I want to submit art/something else instead?
A: That’s fine! Just tag the post as hakukaiweek22 so we can see it.
SaguKaiWeek Day 2 - Great Britain vs. Japan/ First Kiss
Aoko’s mop swishes centimeters behind him and Kaito is in his element. Being Kid? Requires a lot of acrobatics, flashy sleight of hand, and quick wits. Being Kaito on an average day means more twisting and dodging and bouncing off walls than being Kid does 90% of the time. That said—the mop smacks into the wall; good thing the walls are concrete—Kaito spends more time dodging mops and Aoko’s outraged attacks than he does dodging detectives. It barely requires mental input at this point, practically meditative, like yoga only with high risk of head trauma.
Kaito relaxes into the feel of pushing his reflexes to the limit. There’s a flow to it—duck, left, left, spring high, off wall to the right and—face! It’s the routine of it that trips him up and he’s gotten a bit too used to his classmates standing still to watch the show.
Kaito’s face smashes into Hakuba’s, lips mashing together painfully. He tastes blood, feels teeth clack against his own as they crash back against the wall. It takes an uncomfortably long second to get his hands braced enough to pull away.
Kaito licks his lip, feeling it sting where it’s split. Hakuba slumps against the wall, rumpled and eyes wide. There’s a bit of blood on his lip too. Kaito’s blood. That can’t be sanitary, Kaito thinks then, holy shit.
Aoko’s mop thumps against the ground as it swings to a stop. The class is too quiet, all eyes on the latest drama. “Are you okay?” Aoko asks.
Hakuba opens his mouth, closes it. “Fine,” he manages after a second.
He doesn’t sound fine, but Hakuba’s wellbeing is kind of the last thing on Kaito’s mind. That didn’t count as a first kiss did it??
*
Saguru doesn’t know what Kuroba’s game is; he certainly isn’t fooling him with the disguise. Kuroba’s wig is nearly undetectable. His makeup is flawless in replicating a fairer skin tone than Kuroba’s own and the prosthetics Kuroba used to change the shape of his face are seamless. Even the fake breasts shift and give realistically as Kuroba readjusts the lay of his dress. But Saguru knows Kuroba, knows his height and weight and gait and quirks and it had been easy to tell that the supposed woman sitting across from him had the same shoe size as Kuroba, and the same wrist thickness and the same edge to her smile that Kid had at heists. Kuroba knew that Saguru knew. It’s in the widening of his smile into a smirk and the glint in his eye. It all does nothing to explain Kuroba’s presence or motivations.
So far as Saguru’s aware, Kid shouldn’t be involved in this case, but here he is.
Here he is and in Saguru’s personal space. Saguru leans back as Kuroba catches up his arm and presses it to his disturbingly realistic chest.
“So you’re a detective,” Kuroba says.
“I am,” Saguru says, looking for an escape route. Sadly, no one else is close enough to make eye contact with. Or paying attention. How had Kuroba managed to herd him toward the back corner of the room?
“You’re awfully young.”
“I assure you that does not lessen my abilities.”
“And pretty good looking.”
“Excuse me?” Saguru sputters. He tries to pull away, but Kuroba’s grip is firm and somehow they only end up pressed closer. He can’t help blushing when Kuroba skims a hand against his cheek. It’s as much from outrage as embarrassment and he can see laughter in Kuroba’s eyes. “Kid—” He cuts off as Kuroba’s face is suddenly much closer.
“Go ahead,” Kuroba—no, right now he’s one hundred percent Kid persona—Kid murmurs just shy of touching their lips together. Saguru can feel each word as a flutter of breath. “Say it. Unmask me.” Kid’s eyes glimmer with some mercurial light. “You’re the only one who’ll end up embarrassed.”
There’s denials waiting on his tongue and they’re lost to the soft, teasing press of Kid’s lips against his own. He feels a swipe of tongue and twitches away, but Kid follows, keeping the kiss until he’s satisfied with whatever game he’s playing.
There are eyes on them when Kid pulls away and Saguru is too frozen to shove him away or perhaps tackle him in effort of unmasking him. Saguru does neither and Kid sashays away with a self-satisfied smirk of a joke gone right.
Saguru’s face burns and he still doesn’t know what Kid’s goal is.
*
Their hearts are pumping too hard, their lungs aching for each breath as they run, run, run, run like the hounds from hell itself are on their heels. It’s not a bad comparison, Kaito thinks, because Jackal is close enough. Hakuba wasn’t supposed to end up running with him, but that’s how it ended up and Kaito isn’t going to let him get killed just because he happened to be next to Kaito when Jackal started taking potshots at him.
“Go left,” Hakuba pants suddenly, and there’s nothing there but an alcove. Why…? “Disguises, you always have—” He gulped for air as Kaito took his advice.
White suit, gone, reversed in moments and half cast aside for his planned disguise, latex mask over face, wig, and wig for Hakuba. Hakuba grunts as Kaito replaces his jacket with one of the pre-prepared disguises. It’s not enough, they’re breathing too hard that they’ll stand out and all the experience in hiding in the world can’t make his breath come even when his body is screaming for oxygen.
Hakuba shoves him back in the alcove, bracketing him in with his body, and Kaito feels betrayed for a split second. He can’t be planning on arresting Kaito now of all times!
Hakuba’s lips crash onto his and Kaito gets it. He’s still panting for breath in a way that makes the act sloppy, a wet slide of mouths rather than a neat kiss, but it probably looks convincing. Kaito throws an arm around Hakuba’s neck and hikes a leg up around his thigh. Hakuba’s breath hitches but he doesn’t pull away, just leans more weight on his arms until his body’s pinning Kaito’s. There’s footsteps running past and they don’t even pause. Just a couple making out in a semi-private space.
Hakuba goes limp against him, lips releasing his as he struggles to regain his breath against Kaito’s throat. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, but it’s arousing in a way Kaito doesn’t want to think too hard about. It’s Hakuba for goodness sake.
“We need to stop doing this,” Kaito jokes.
Hakuba snorts. “You started it.”
“Going to let me go?”
There’s a moment’s hesitation before Hakuba pushes himself away. “Only this once, and only because we both just had a brush with death.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
*
The thought has been buzzing in his head since Jackal, and it only grows the more Kaito is around Hakuba. Something has changed between them, maybe changed way back when they crashed together, but changed all the same. Hakuba doesn’t push as often now. Isn’t as insistent about Kaito’s identity. Perhaps it was the run in with the sniper. On Kaito’s side, he doesn’t really feel like pranking Hakuba as much. It’s hard to get pissed at him after going through a near death experience together like that.
It’s a rare moment that they’re alone together. No Aoko poking at Kaito’s irresponsibility, no Akako hovering over him with flirtations and veiled threats. No teachers or classmates, just the two of them eating lunch on the rooftop and it doesn’t even feel weird. When did they get comfortable?
“Hakuba,” Kaito says, and Hakuba turns. It’s easy to reach across to cup his face, easier still to bridge the gap between them. He gives Hakuba plenty of time to move away. Hakuba’s eyes go round, but he doesn’t try to move.
Unlike the other kisses, this one is soft, exploratory. Just when Kaito starts to pull away, Hakuba kisses back, and it’s better that way. It’s what a kiss should be like, Kaito thinks. Hakuba pulls away first with an unconscious lick of lips that Has Kaito’s eyes fixed on Hakuba’s mouth.
“Why?” Hakuba asks. There’s no judgment there, not like Kaito expected, just curiosity.
“I felt like it,” Kaito says. He picks his lunch back up like the kiss was casual when it was anything but. “I wondered what it would be like.” He took a bite, chewed it. “Why for you?”
“I can’t help getting carried away,” Hakuba says. Does he mean with Kid or with Kaito? Does Hakuba even make a distinction between the two since he is convinced Kaito is Kid? “I suppose that was out first real kiss,” he says.
Kaito almost snorts rice from his nose. Did the others not count, then?
“It was mutual,” Hakuba says, explaining. He’s blushing. Hakuba might be a romantic. That’s…nothing at all like what Kaito would expect. (That possibility makes the previous kisses all the more confusing.) “So it’s the only one that counts.”
Kaito counts every one of the kisses they’ve had; it’s not like he’s had too many otherwise. Does he like Hakuba? Hell if he knows. Hakuba’s still annoying and dangerous and grinds at Kaito’s patience. But he’s also someone Kaito can count on if things turn dangerous, a sometimes ally, and not near so bad a person than Kaito’s initial opinion of him. The kisses aren’t bad either.
