Nov 18, 2017
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Taste of Comfort [Spajo]
its an au!! where spade is a punk and joker is a detective named jack jones hAHAHAHA
punk!spade idea all thanks to kazu :3c
✔
Jack Jones thought he’d finally get some rest from work that night when he stepped into his run-down apartment.
He thought wrong.
The first thing he sees when he opens the door is the open window by the fire escape. His heart grows cold for a split-second, before he remembers that there’s really only one person in the entire world who could open his fire escape window to sneak in.
“Spade? Are you here?” Jack calls out as he turns on the apartment lights.
No answer. He shrugs off his jacket as he walks, eyes looking for a familiar length of braided purple hair.
When he reaches the living room, that’s when he sees it. Or rather, sees him.
Curled up on the couch and fast asleep, is none other than Spade himself in all of his piercings and tattoo glory.
Jack huffs in annoyance at first, mumbling something that sounds like ‘you could’ve at least closed the window first’, before he notices that Spade has blanketed himself with one of Jack’s coats for work, fingers wrapped around the fabric tightly.
He blinks.
A warm feeling nestles itself deep within his chest. He can feel himself turning red already.
Jack sits cross-legged on the floor, resting his chin in his hand. To think that Spade would use his coat to keep himself warm… It’s just too much. It’s not often he gets to see Spade asleep like this after all, curled up and serene. It’s cute—a nice change from the usual smirk or scowl or frown or menacing grin.
Jack reaches out his hand, fingers tracing the other’s cheek gently, not wanting to wake him up. His thumb caresses the piercings above Spade’s eyebrows and the man stirs, tilting his head into Jack’s hand.
For a moment, Jack stills. The close call made his heartbeat rise, and it makes him realize he should really put his stuff away and change into his home clothes. He should let Spade have his sleep. Before he stands up, he leans in close to leave a soft kiss on Spade’s forehead.
And that’s when he feels the cold metal against his neck.
“You know, in some countries, that’s considered sexual harassment, detective.”
Jack chuckles nervously. The cold metal is still against his throat. “Sorry I woke you up…?”
Spade keeps the knife away, pushing himself off the couch and into a sitting position, the serene look he had on while asleep replaced by a frown. “I thought you don’t usually come home on weeknights.”
“I don’t.” Jack says, relieved he’s no longer under the threat of being chopped into pieces. He sits beside the disgruntled Spade and wraps an arm around his shoulder. Honestly, the other man now looks like a mad cat instead of a punk. It’s too cute. “But I just solved my case today, so I’m pretty sure I deserve a break and a sleep in an actual bed.”
“Hm.”
“Speaking of sleeping in actual beds, what’s this all about?” Jack points at his coat that’s now in Spade’s lap. He gestures to the entire sofa too. “Do you always do this? Sneak into my apartment when I’m gone and sleep with my clothes?”
A brilliant blush spreads onto Spade’s face, and he finally looks wide awake. “N-No! O-Of course I don’t! It’s just a onetime thing that’s all!” He tries to push away Jack’s hand that’s around him and stand, but the detective simply pulls him to sit on his lap. A sound of protest escapes Spade’s lips.
“I’ve still got my knife, y’know!”
“And I can arrest you if you use it on me.” Jack grins mischievously. His arms are now around the other’s torso, and he nuzzles his nose into Spade’s long braid, inhaling the scent. Under that tough exterior, this guy sure loves his lavender shampoo.
Jack doesn’t hear anything in reply from Spade.
He gets an elbow to the gut instead.
“GUH!” the man coughs out, clutching onto his stomach as Spade easily gets up. The long haired man crosses his arms as he glares down at Jack.
Jack kind of regrets teasing him, but also kind of doesn’t.
“You sure don’t hold back, huh…” he says with a chuckle. When he looks up, he sees that Spade’s averted his gaze, lips in what appears to be a small pout…
His hear t clenches tight again.
“Alright, come here.” Jack says with his arms wide open. “Something happened, huh?”
Spade turns a brilliant red and he doesn’t make a move. Minutes go by as neither of them give in; Jack still with his arms spread apart, and Spade still frozen in place.
It’s not too long before Spade does cave in and straddles Jack on the couch, arms wrapped around the detective in a tight embrace. He nuzzles his face into Jack’s neck and relaxes, almost melting against the detective.
Jack hugs him back just as tight, relishing the warmth between them.
His hand pats Spade’s back slowly. He says, “Do you want to talk about it…?”
Spade hugs him tighter.
Jack waits.
The minute hand on the clock ticks on, the time slipping in between their fingers. Jack doesn’t say a word still, and neither does Spade. The long-haired man always takes his time when it comes to things like this. Jack doesn’t mind.
It took the detective forever, a lot of flowers, an uncountable amount of coffee, and various types of novels to get the other to open up to him, let alone manage to get him to reciprocate his feelings. He can wait forevermore for whatever it is that’s bothering Spade now. And whatever that problem is, he’s going to try and fix it for sure.
He’s called a miracle maker for a reason.
Jack hears Spade sigh and he braces himself. “Sorry, Jack… It’s just. It’s dumb.” Spade says, still snuggled up against the detective.
“It’s not dumb if you’re upset about it.”
“…”
“Well…?”
“……”
“…”
“……Fine.”
Jack smiles softly at his small victory. Spade adjusts himself to sit properly, so he can face Jack without trouble.
Spade bites his lip, eyes averted. Jack expects him to say something; ready to take whatever it is that could rattle the always tough and cunning Spade. Not much in this world has the ability to do that, and Jack knows it by experience.
But then Spade… kisses his lips gently.
Jack blinks. That takes him by surprise. When it comes to kisses, it was always Jack who initiates it. From the start of their relationship, rarely has it been Spade.
His hands freeze in place, unsure exactly where to put them. He returns the kiss—slowly, carefully, afraid of scaring Spade away from this development.
After a while of the closed-mouth kiss, Spade pulls away and slides his arms around Jack’s neck and hugs him tight.
A barely audible whisper, like the words struggle to come out of his mouth, reaches Jack’s ears. “My parents…” Jack stiffens. “They’re looking for me…” Spade finishes, and Jack can feel how deflated Spade is.
A silent moment later, Jack takes in a breath and asks, “After all this time?” he runs a hand up and down Spade’s back, comforting the man. He can only imagine what Spade feels like at the moment, especially being someone coming from what one would call a picture perfect family.
Jack remembers the day Spade first opened up about being disowned. The expression Spade held in his face back then… it wasn’t something that Jack would want Spade to wear ever again. So he tries hard to not let history repeat itself.
But if it happens once more tonight, then he has no choice but to just hold Spade like this until it goes away.
“Yeah…” Spade sounds like he’s about to break. “I don’t know what to do.”
Jack gives him a tight squeeze, his arms going around Spade’s entire frame. “You don’t have to see them if you don’t want to, you know?”
“I know… it’s just…”
“A bit of a shock?”
A nod.
Jack pulls away and runs his hands down Spade’s shoulders, his left hand brushing a bright purple rose and thorns tattoo that entwines the other’s arm. Spade looks into his eyes and Jack can see how uncertain and confused he is about the entire ordeal.
“Whatever you decide to do, I’ve got your back, okay?” Jack says. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind Spade’s ear and places a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I’m here for you.”
Spade’s face melts into one of relief and admiration, which makes Jack’s heart do a triple flip. Spade kisses him again on the mouth and Jack can feel the other’s smile against his lips. He smiles just as well into the kiss, holding Spade in his arms like a jewel.
Spade doesn’t say anything, but the detective understands what he’s trying to convey.
I love you, Jack.
Bride’s Wrath [Spajo]
i have sinned and i cannot go back. i love bride joker too much. save me from this hell or rot in it with me
✔
“Dark Eye, is it starting yet?”
“Yes, Spade-sama. The ultra super celebrity is about to show himself.”
The long haired man makes his way towards the sofa, where Dark Eye sat on the single sofa, her sight on the TV. Spade sits too, a glass of water in his hands. He had heard about the 500kg solid gold wedding bell, and he was so tempted to send an advance notice last night… but he had a deadline for a chapter of his new book today that he managed to get done just a few minutes ago.
Priorities.
As the camera pans over the excited brides-to-be, he hums in approval at the wedding dresses they chose to wear. Fine tastes indeed. Oh, did he catch a designer dress just now?
When Kaneari appears and introduces himself as the ultra super celebrity, Spade spits his drinks out. He’s already laughing to himself, shaking as he grips on his sides, hands slapping the armrest. Dark Eye seems dreadfully disappointed, yet she tries her best to calm him by patting his back.
The brides-to-be on TV seem just as shocked and almost immediately they dwindled in numbers, leaving the stadium faster than the eyes could see with multiple excuses behind their backs. They’re lucky they can withdraw from this silly Grand Prix then, or else it could have been a disaster.
“Oh gosh, I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time…” Spade says, recollecting himself with a sigh.
“Please be careful, Spade-sama…” Dark Eye advises worriedly, handing him a handkerchief to wipe his mouth with. He takes it gratefully, but the remnants of his laughing fit from earlier are still there. She excuses herself to the kitchen to prepare for teatime and he turns his eyes to the TV again.
From the looks of it, there are only around… four of them left. Amazing. That’s Mr. Kaneari for you.
As the camera zooms in on the handful of brides left one by one, he thought nothing much of the first two. Dark haired, average, don’t really stand out much. But when he sees pretty long blonde hair tied into twin tails, he recognizes Diamond Queen immediately.
She must be after the wedding bell. Poor Kaneari, now he’s only left with three women as candidates for his bride. Queen looks amazing in that dress though, he has to say. And she seems to be talking animatedly with the fourth participant of the Grand Prix…
The camera focuses on said fourth contestant as DJ Peacock explains the basic rules of the tournament. Spade finds his eyes unblinking as he takes in the sight.
He drops his glass of water, shattering it on the floor.
“J-J-J-JOKER?!”
“SPADE-SAMA, IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?!”
✔
Spade stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Oh God, he’s still bright red.
The long haired man lets out a whine. He hangs his head, the heat still burning the back of his neck. He splashes more water onto his face, practically wetting the front of his shirt in the process, and he regrets that decision almost immediately. Now he’s going to need to change his clothes. Damn it.
What was that all about, anyway?
To react like that, just because he saw Joker in a… a… a dress… honestly, what’s wrong with him?
Spade can’t get his mind out of it as he opens his bedroom closet and pulls on a new shirt. He and Joker wear costumes all the time anyway. What difference does one wedding dress make? None, absolutely none, nada, zero.
Surely, he must have just been surprised at how good Joker looks in—he’s just going to stop that train of thought right there.
The long haired man closes the door behind him, and makes his way back to the living room, where Dark Eye is watching in amusement as the Grand Prix continues on. Spade’s eyes land on the TV and he squints.
“A fifth bride…?”
“Ah, yes, Spade-sama. She came when the trials started. Her name’s Commander Satsuko.”
When the said fifth bride-to-be steps out of the swimming pool, crushing and smashing the tiles with sheer strength, Spade can’t help himself from a laugh. “Pft—!” he covers his mouth quickly, though. Poor Kaneari…!
As the competition goes on, Spade finds it increasingly and frustratingly harder to focus on anyone else in the fray but Joker. It’s not helping his situation when the two seemingly more normal contestants drops out, leaving only Commander Satsuko, Queen, and… Joker.
Well, no matter the outcome, it seems like Kaneari’s getting Commander Satsuko as his wife. Fitting, she’d do a great job of accidentally crushing him in bed.
Despite Joker’s mishaps and despite watching his usual antics of idiocy on live TV this time, Spade can’t help the blossom of warmth forming in his chest. The worst part is that the warmth even spreads out onto his cheeks, each time the cameraman closes in on Joker, and Spade gets a clearer view of Joker in—again, stopping right there.
“I’m getting water.” Spade says when the judges just finished tasted Joker’s ‘cooking’. Absentmindedly walking to the kitchen, he goes straight to the sink and collects just a small amount of water in his joint palms to wash his face with.
God damn it, he needs to calm down.
He wishes he could go back into his workspace and say he wants to work on the next chapter of his novel already, but his creative flow feels… stumped, as of right now. (And it’s not because of Joker in a wedding dress, it is not.)
Fresh glass of water in hand, he walks back into the living room just as they announce ‘Miss J’ as the winner. A sardonic smile makes it onto Spade’s face before he even sits down. “And I hope they live happily ever after.” He comments, raising a hand and shaking his head.
He watches as Joker walk up the raised stage, not showing even a hint of excitement for winning the Bride Grand Prix. At least put on a show, Spade thought to himself bitterly. Show the world how happy you are getting married.
He doesn’t realize he has a white-knuckle grip on his glass.
When Kaneari tries to go in for a kiss and Joker screams ‘Pervert!!’ in the most scandalized voice ever whilst throwing Hachi from under his skirt into Kaneari’s face, Spade goes… blank, for a moment.
His eyes are wide still as he watches chaos unfold onscreen, but then a second later, he’s laughing his ass off.
“AHAHAHAHA! THAT! THAT JOKER! THREW HACHI! IN KANEARI’S FACE!!”
“S-SPADE-SAMA, PLEASE, YOU’LL GET A FEVER AGAIN—!”
✔
“Congratulations on winning the Grand Prix, Joker!” Spade calls out from his zeppelin with a giant grin on his face, donned entirely in his phantom thief outfit. “You have the makings of a great bride!”
The team of phantom thieves who had just left the stadium and are now floating in the middle of the sky with a 500kg solid gold wedding bell in tow can only gape at him.
“SPADE?! You… YOU WERE WATCHING?!” Joker yelled, his face twisting into something made up of… Hm. Embarrassment and rage? Is that it?
“Right from the beginning!” Spade laughs. “So, do you guys need a lift or what?”
After Hachi, Roko, and Queen manage to persuade Joker into it, they land safely in Spade’s zeppelin, along with the 500kg solid gold wedding bell, which Joker continuously insists belongs to him, even to the point of clinging to it, ‘in case Spade gets any ideas…!’
Spade rolls his eyes. He crosses his arms and sighs. “I’m not interested in your stupid wedding bell, Joker. Go get married under it with Mr. Kaneari for all I care.”
“Good, because th—what did you just say?”
Ooh, did that strike a nerve?
Spade’s smile turns charming. “Hm? Didn’t I say it before? You’d make a really great wife, Joker, since you did amazing in the grand prix just now!”
“Heh, you’re just jealous that I’d be a better wife than you’d be!” Joker retaliates, looking awfully smug and proud of himself. “Oh, or maybe you’re just jealous that I look better in a wedding dress compared to you!”
You do.
Fuck.
Spade is forever grateful that Joker is out of that costume now (even if the image of big round pearls and gold trimmed wedding veil is burned into his memory) or else he’d never be able to have a proper conversation with him, if one can call this a conversation in the first place.
And whilst they are yelling and shouting at each other, the others are calmly eating snacks and drinking tea served by Dark Eye on the dining table.
They seem like they’re trying very hard to ignore the two of them.
“Says the virgin who ran away from a kiss.” Spade starts. “Tell me, Joker, if Mr. Kaneari had really kissed you that time, would it have been your first kiss? Oh, what am I saying, of course it would!” he laughs at his own joke, pleased in himself as he sees Joker turning bright red and agitated from the assumption.
Oh. That’s new.
He likes it.
“Uwaah, he’s blushing!” Spade continues. “Aww, you really do have a maiden heart, Joker… That’s so sweet! I bet you’re saving that first kiss for someone really special, huh?”
Spade doesn’t even process what’s going on until it’s too late.
He’s falling forward—no, he’s being pulled forward, and Joker’s pretty blue eyes look so intense and vivid, and Spade feels his heart skip a beat.
Then, their lips meet.
He forgets to breathe entirely, feels his heart not beating at all, and there’s a stirring of warmth deep in the pit of his stomach that makes him feel like he’s going to explode at any moment. Joker’s eyes are closed now, his face flushed an even brighter red than before, but before Spade can do anything or even move a muscle, he’s already pushed away by the very man who kissed him in the first place.
Joker doesn’t even say anything. He simply stands there, looking at Spade with the same intensity as he had earlier. If Joker is trying to glare and scare off Spade, it’s not working, because Joker’s face is still a gaudy red like his suit.
Spade touches his lips. He’s sure his own face is bright red right now. “J-Joker…?”
“And just for the record,” Joker says, pointing a finger at the long haired man. “I totally wasn’t saving that kiss for you or anything!”
A Writer’s Woes [Spajo]
Title: A Writer’s Woes (3k+ words) Fandom & Characters: Mysterious Joker; Kaitou Spade, Kaitou Joker Tags: Fluff AN: (is on the ground)
✔ ♠
King stopped in his tracks, his eyes reading the words on the poster that caught his attention on his way out of the school building.
Writing Contest!
His heart thumped.
Without him realizing, his feet had brought him to the wall, his fingers tracing the embossed letters and he sighed. King stared at the poster, the conditions and requirements to enter said competition. He’s qualified enough, alright. Should he…?
“Oi, King, hurry up!” a familiar voice from up the hallway called for him. He turned his head, catching sight of spiky white hair in the distance, and sighed. He quickly made his way towards the other party, feeling exasperated by his friend.
“You have no patience huh, Jack?”
“You’re the one who’s so slow! I want to get curry! Curry!”
“But we just had lunch?!”
“There’s always room for curry!” Jack said with a grin, his blue eyes twinkling as he looked at King. The long-haired teen furrowed his eyebrows before he sighed fondly at Jack’s enthusiasm. “Alright, alright, let’s go get curry.” He paused for a moment. “It’s your treat though.”
“EH?!” Jack exclaimed. “I was hoping that you’d…!”
“HA?! What gave you the idea that I would?!”
“B-But my allowance this month is…!”
King stopped short. Jack was giving him the puppy dog eyes again and he really wanted to hurl. He tried looking away but Jack only came closer, his hands clasped together and the surely fake tears in his eyes getting bigger.
“King, please…?”
“…Urgh.”
He gave in.
He was sure he was going to regret it.
So off they went to get curry, with Jack acting like an excited puppy the entire time, and King trying hard not to burst from the ridiculous adorableness that his friend was emitting. Sure, Jack was an annoying dork, but a good-looking annoying dork. King was almost not surprised he stuck this long.
At one point while they were eating in the restaurant, Jack had laughed so hard at some joke he cracked that he basically squished himself right next to King and King found himself staring at Jack in surprise. He hadn’t thought much of it, but then he realized he wasn’t just staring… his heart was also thumping, the same way it had earlier when he saw the poster, but faster and louder.
It also felt like the world around them had turned into sparkles and muted mumbling from side background characters that nobody gives a damn about.
I could’ve just refused him earlier, King thought to himself. But as if I could. When it’s him asking, the word ‘no’ almost seems nonexistent between us. Just like how it has always been since we were children. Maybe he is a little spoilt, but it’s not bad at all. In fact, it’s at that level on the meter where it’s… cute. Endearing, even.
One can almost say that he has me wrapped around his finger… and I don’t have much proof to exclaim otherwise. But it’s not like I mind… as long as I… get to spend more time with him.
And looking back, this situation… taken out of context, it does seem rather romantic, does it not? It’s like… like we’re on a date. Would it be too much to call it one? A date. The word is appealing, as much as the idea of dating this guy is tempting as well.
He almost dropped a spoonful of curry in Jack’s face at what he just wrote in his mind.
What in the fuck was that?
King blinked owlishly into the distance, still not being able to find an inch inside of him wanting to believe that he just wrote something that… romantic? Deep? Emotional?!
Jack stopped laughing and finally noticed that his friend was experiencing a mid-life dilemma or something, and poked King in the cheek with a finger. “Oi, King, you okay? You look constipated.”
Ah yes, very romantic.
He shoved Jack away and grumbled. “I’m fine. Finish your curry rice already, I want to go home.”
Jack stuck his tongue out at him but resumed eating. Phew. King was safe, for now.
Later in the safety of his room, King lamented on his thought process from earlier, and completely berated himself for them. What in the world?! Did he really thought all of that? From the bottom of his heart, or was it just his writer instincts taking over, reading the situation and interpreting it into a romance passage?
…How was that any better?!
He needed to do something about this. He couldn’t let his heart overtake his mind. He hadn’t written anything in ages, either, so he partially blamed that…
King sat up in bed and took out his laptop from underneath. It was a bit dusty, signaling its disuse. Before he could change his mind, he turned it on, entered the password and quickly clicked open a blank Microsoft Word document.
And it stayed blank for the next five minutes.
King grumbled into his hands. It was already like, 9PM or something, and he needed to sleep soon because he had school, but damn it all he also needed to write this just as badly. But for the life of him, he couldn’t find a sentence to start with.
Heck, he wasn’t even sure if he even had a plot!
The teen untied his long locks of hair and retied it in frustration, slowly getting even more irritated that his dumb mind could work while he was on a da—outing with Jack, but not when he literally had his laptop in his lap with his fingers ready to type away.
Gee, what to do, what to do…
King’s purple eyes scanned his room, noticing and taking inventory of every item inside of it. There were some of his plush animals on his bed, his make-up set on the dressing table with other necessities, his wardrobe filled with the clothes of his preferred style, pretty glass ornaments and decorations on the shelves, the window that gave the view of the wondrous night sky, and a number of pictures he taped onto the wall in front of his study desk.
He noticed one particular ‘picture’ was of a joker card from a set of playing cards, almost hidden from view by a stack of books, with the joker looking like a clown or a jester posing in an almost evil-like laugh. He didn’t remember taping that there. Then, with a slow realization, he thought that it was probably Jack’s doing from one of his visits before…
Was it a form of a prank? Probably.
King pushed his large glasses up his nose and turned back to the laptop in his hands.
Most people heard of him, but the only ones who have seen him… well, there weren’t many to speak of. No, he didn’t kill. It was against his rules. A life is the most important treasure, after all. But what he did was, and he did it fantastically, was to make miracles beyond comprehension.
Hush now and listen, to the great and wonderful tale of the mysterious but alluring, Phantom Thief Joker…
✔ ♠
You’d think he would have skipped school after looking like a truck ran over him and then decided to call a buddy steamroller to finish the job, but no. He was stubborn. He even fell asleep on his laptop last night while writing something mid-sentence and practically woke up at three in the freaking morning!
Urgh, bad habits. This was probably among the reasons he stopped writing in the first place. It cut into his beauty sleep time.
And, catching a sight of his reflection in a parked car’s window, he really needed it.
“W-Whoa, what the heck?!” Jack’s voice echoed in his ears, sounding very much surprised and in disbelief. “K-King, is that you?!”
When he turned to look at Jack, all he could see was the utter bewilderment in his face.
“No, can’t be. The King I know wouldn’t even leave the house without at least BB Cream on.”
“Oh shut up.” He grumbled under his breath, his head pounding slightly. “Actually, I’m even more surprised you know what BB Cream is. And just so you know, I do have it on right now.”
Jack came up to walk beside him with a shrug. “I hang with you, I’m bound to learn things. So, what’s up with the eye bags?” a sudden mischievous grin graced his face. “Were you out all night doing…?” and here he wriggled his eyebrows, as if to suggest something completely immoral and lascivious.
King hit Jack’s head with his bag for that.
“OW!”
“That serves you right for thinking that I would do obscene things.”
“Who knows?! Even best friends keep secrets from each other!”
King could see the school coming into view as they walked. He was really, really tired, and he wanted nothing more than to turn back now and get some sleep in his nice comfy bed. But instead he quickly rummaged his bag and produced a folder filled with a thick assembly of stapled papers.
He shoved said folder into Jack’s hands.
“Here, for treating you yesterday I want you to proofread my entry for the school’s writing contest before I submit it.”
“…Wait, what?”
“The deadline is the day after tomorrow, so chop chop!”
“Wait… WAIT, KING!!”
✔ ♠
Ah… sleep. Sleep is the most wonderful thing, a blessing to this Earth, a gift God bestowed upon us for so many reasons. Among those reasons is to let us look fresh for the day, which is probably my favourite reason. And yet, sleep can also be charming in other ways, like how dreams are an escape from reality, and how time flies when you’re not awake to see it pass.
Yes, sleep, my new favourite thing in the world.
You’d think he’d stop with the monologue in his bloody head once he turned on the fan and hit the sofa after a long day of school. Urgh. He just wanted some actual sleep, not some romantic cheesy passage about it.
And maybe he did get some sleep after all, because before he knew it he was waking up to the alarmingly gradually annoying ringing of the doorbell. From the looks of the orange hued walls, floor and furniture, King immediately assumed he slept all the way to sunset.
Or in a worst case scenario, he had slept to the next morning.
“I’m coming!” he grumpily replied when the ringing didn’t stop, wiping the sleep out of his eyes as he blindly walked into the hallway and towards the door.
He opened the door to Jack, who let go a sigh of relief.
“Thank God, I thought you died in there or something. You didn’t answer my calls or texts.”
It took a few moments for King to answer properly. “…I was asleep.”
“Of course.”
“What brings you over here?” King asked to which Jack replied by revealing a familiar folder with an unreadable expression on his face. King stared at it for a while. “Oh, you’re done already?”
Jack nodded.
“Then, let’s go to my room to talk then.”
Jack obeyed without a single word, and for obvious reasons, his behaviour struck to King as being totally, without a doubt, weird. The blue-eyed teen was obviously not being himself, and who wouldn’t be worried?
“Oi, are you okay? You seem a bit off.”
Jack looked up, his face still unreadable, and shrugged. “I’m probably just tired or something.”
“Uh-huh… Want some coffee?”
“Nah, I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
“It feels like you’re the one who’s in need of that coffee.”
“Yeah, but I don’t drink coffee.”
At this, a small smile finally appeared on Jack’s face. “You only ever drink tea.”
That smile and that statement should not have made King’s heart do a bungee jump in his chest.
They managed to get into King’s room without another incident, bless the heavens. He had a small round table in his room, to sit on the floor with, and that was where the two teens set camp. Jack had looked pretty serious about the business since he arrived, and now King was beginning to realize that he was nervous about what Jack had to say regarding his story.
He gulped.
“So, let me clarify. The main character is called Kaitou Joker?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not his real name, right?”
“I suppose.”
“He has a rival, who is also a love interest, by the name Kaitou Spade?”
“Yes.”
“When exactly did you write this?”
“Last night.”
“All of it?”
“All of it. I fell asleep midway, I think, and finished it at… four in the morning?”
God, he felt like he was sitting for a job interview. Or with a publisher who was judging whether or not it’d be worth it to turn his manuscript into a book. Whichever option, both was nerve-wrecking.
Jack seemed astounded for a moment, before he recollected himself with a cough. “Okay, well, in the first page…”
Things began then, with Jack showing him where the typos were, what sentences didn’t feel right or confused him, grammar mistakes and the likes. He was a surprisingly okay proofreader, much to King’s pleasant surprise. But Jack always did have a surprise or two up his sleeve. And maybe his subconscious knew that, and that’s why he asked Jack to proofread it for him.
“The next pages are… noticeably laden with more mistakes than the first ones.”
King shrugged at that. “Must be the point where I dozed off.”
“I can’t believe you dozed off in the middle of Joker’s imminent demise.”
“Hey, I was tired! I probably wrote some weird stuff in that area didn’t I? Like about chipmunks or gophers, it happens when I write half-asleep!”
Jack laughed at that. “Okay, okay. There were no such things like chipmunks or gophers or skunks. But answer me this, does Spade know Joker’s real name or no?”
King paused for a while. “Uh… no? I’m not even sure I gave Joker a ‘real name’.”
When he said that, Jack’s grin seemed to have gotten wider somehow. No, not wider… more mischievous? Amused? Like he was holding back a secret of sorts?!
“W…Why are you smiling like that…?”
“Ah, well, King, you see… everyone knows that the early wee hours of the morning is the best time to get a secret out of someone.”
“Yeah…?”
Jack flipped a page of the ‘manuscript’ that had been butchered and vandalized by Jack’s writings, notes and markings, to the next page where King managed to catch a glimpse of something circled in red pen—everything else were mostly just underlines.
“Read it.” Jack said.
He did.
He went through the first few lines in a daze, recognizing mistakes here and there, and placing exactly where the event in the writings took place in the story. “Ah… this is where they almost killed Joker and he was bleeding out in Spade’s arms.” He commented, but no sooner than he said that…
He saw it.
It was what Jack circled in red ink, something that Spade said to Joker in an almost silent plea…
King remembered the line he intended to write clearly in his head. I’m in love with you, Joker. But no, what King wrote instead was, to his horrifying realization… I’m in love with you, Jack.
Oh. My. God.
He wanted to scream and lash out and kick Jack out of his room. He wanted to tear the papers into tiny pieces and burn them until there was no evidence left of their existence. He wanted to get his laptop immediately to delete the entire word doc and maybe delete his memory too while he’s at it, if that’s possible.
But instead he blushed. Right there, in front of Jack. There was literally no way to deny it then.
King covered his face as quickly as he could as he tried to stutter out an explanation. “T-That’s…! I was sleepy! I didn’t know what I was typing and I…” I guess I must have thought about you at some point while writing that I wrote your name instead.
…Oh who am I kidding, it’s so obvious that Joker was based off of Jack and Spade off of me. Even he’s not dumb enough to miss it.
“Oh God, I’m s-so sorry you had to find out like t-this. I just…” King was still stuttering, and Jack was still silent, and it was honestly really starting to scare King to Hell and back. Oh wow, was this the reason why Jack seemed so unreadable earlier? That he was uncomfortable with the thought that his best friend and rival was in love with him?
“King…” Jack’s voice called out for him softly, and a pair of hands gently pried his own hands away from his face. He still tried to hide though, this time by looking away and not meeting Jack’s eyes (the only pair of eyes that he had ever been weak to).
“Hey, King, come on… Look at me, please?”
“I… I don’t want to.”
“What if I tell you I feel the same way?”
King almost got whiplash. He stared at Jack’s bright blue eyes and smile, his jaw dropping slightly as his eyes blinked like an owl’s. It could very likely be a joke… but from the many years of knowing him, King knew for a fact that Jack wouldn’t joke over feelings.
“What…?”
Jack, still holding onto King’s hands, squeezed them. He inched close enough to let their foreheads touch and King’s blush came back full force at their close proximity. Jack chuckled too, despite the pink visible in his cheeks. “At first… when I read what you gave me, I thought you were pulling a trick on me. But then when I got here, I realized that you weren’t. You just made an honest mistake. A really, really cool honest mistake.”
King’s heart did a somersault and a trampoline jump. “So that means…?”
“Yeah. I’m in love with you too,” and Jack’s grin got a little bit wider as he said this, “Kaitou Spade.”
Give Me One Miracle [Spajo]
Title: Give Me One Miracle (1.3k+ words) Fandom & Characters: Mysterious Joker; Kaitou Joker, Kaitou Spade Tags: ... AN: the first spajo thing i ever wrote and its This Tragic Trainwreck
✔ ♠
Spade is running, when Joker turns his head over his shoulder and challenges him from a few steps ahead, That treasure is definitely mine! An almost maniacal grin appears on Spade’s face, and a retort makes way to the tip of his tongue but then Spade sees a sword graze, no, slash, at Joker’s back, and the long-haired boy swears his heart dropped cold.
The blood, for a moment under the moonlight, has the likeliness of an angel’s wings.
It’s gone immediately, when Joker crumbles to his knees, choking out blood.
He hears Hachi from further back call out for the other Phantom Thief in unmasked horror, and he thinks he notices Dark Eye running right ahead of him towards the assailant, a large broad guardian statue that’s moving slowly, but all of that disappears, all of it, all of it, when he realizes Joker really isn’t standing back up again.
Spade drops to his knees, screw the dirt on the ground and his pants, right next to Joker and he feels his breath choke him when he sees how large and deep the wound is. The size of the pool of blood around him isn’t helping, either.
His hands tremble when he reaches for Joker’s shoulder, gently, slowly, delicately shaking him. The intensity of the moment makes him think of nothing else, his focus entirely on making sure that Joker is fine.
“Joker...?” he ventures. He gets nothing in reply.
But Joker’s breathing is rapid, laboured, and he can work with that because thank God he’s still alive, he’s still savable.
A voice in the back of his mind says, How do you save him from a wound like this? We’re on a deserted island for crying out loud. Neither of you used your zeppelins to get here, your supplies are definitely not enough. Can you really pull a miracle?
Shut up, he spits at the voice.
“Okay, Joker, stay with me,” he says, for lack of anything else comforting to say. He thinks Joker might have grunted, but he can’t be sure. He can’t really hear anything else either, no, because his blood is pumping in his ears and he’s pretty sure his heart is somewhere in there too, deafening him so badly he has to strain to hear the sounds of battle from somewhere behind him.
Spade takes off his coat in a rush, because God damn it the wound is still bleeding, how didn’t he notice it, he blames it on Joker’s gaudy red suit, and tries to stop the flow. But the wound, he admits with pinpricks of tears in his eyes, is far too long and deep and he thinks he might have choked back a sob.
“Joker? Joker, can you hear me?” God, what is he supposed to do now? He’s supposed to know how to deal with something like this but every time he tries to remember, it escapes him like water through his fingers. He almost lets out a frustrated groan.
“Spade...?” the silver-haired boy tries to lift his head from the dirt, tries to find Spade with his eyes, but winces visibly in the process. He even has the nerve to chuckle and Spade resists the temptation of smacking him over his head. Joker says, “I’ve never heard you so scared...”
“That’s what you care about right now?!”
“Ah, well, that cut in my back really does sting...”
He wants to shout at him, yell at him that it’s not just a cut, moron, it’s so much more and you’re losing so much blood, what do I do, what do I do?!
“Spade? Hey, Spade...?”
“W-What...?”
“Can you... turn me over?”
Spade freezes for a moment. “I’ll hurt you if I do.”
Joker forces out a laugh. “Just do it. Please?”
Spade gulps. Joker never asks him for anything. Especially not with a ‘please’ in tow. At first not knowing how to do it, he decides to fold his blood-drenched coat to make it a large puffy pillow. Carefully, he puts his arms around Joker’s shoulder and, with a grunt, hoists Joker’s head onto the pillow, his face facing the sky.
Joker visibly winces, arching his back with a hiss. Spade gasps and his hands move to lift Joker, but the other is faster when he manages to hold onto Spade’s hand to stop him. Joker’s breathing is still deep and erratic, but he manages a smile when their eyes meet. “Hey. You look miserable.”
“No thanks to you!”
Joker tries to laugh but it sounds tired and broken. “You know... I’ve always wanted to ask you... Why do you...” he takes a shaky breath, “write...? I know it’s an Upperworld job, but you’re... so serious about it...”
He’s bleeding out. He’s going to die soon.
SHUT UP.
Spade takes a shaky breath too. He tries to keep his voice steady. He thinks he failed by the end of his sentence. “I’ve always liked reading.”
Joker smirks. “That can’t be... the only reason... I actually... read some... of your works... Almost all of them... are about our adventures... when we were younger... right?”
Spade feels his heart drop again. “Why are you bringing this up now?”
The other seems to have tried for a shrug, but it comes out as another wince. “It crossed... my mind...?”
“You, Joker, have the worst timing.” He tries to make it sound snarky but his voice betrays him yet again. He sniffs, biting his lip. Joker is still looking at him expectantly and he has to look away. “...You’re right. All of those stories, book upon books of them, they’re all about the three of us.”
“Why...?”
"Writing is easier when I want to... express how I really feel, without needing to face you.”
“Eeeh... You’re a corny guy, Spade.”
His hand that’s holding Joker’s is getting tired. But he doesn’t care. He uses his other hand too, in case he accidentally lets go. Joker is making him talk, distracting him, and fine, he’ll bloody talk, since Joker insists on it so much.
“I write... about us... because for all of those years, I never... I never had the strength to tell you..." Spade chokes on his words, his hands holding Joker's weak and bloody one tighter.
There are tears, tears all too familiar running down his eyes, like long lost friends he hasn't seen in a while. Joker looks at him. His blue eyes, the brightest blue Spade has ever seen on any person, are slowly losing its shine, but the smirk is still there. That ever annoying smirk he wants nothing but to punch away.
"Tell me what...?" Joker prods, his voice raspy but teasing. A trail of blood trickles down his mouth. Spade sniffs. He tries to get the words out, his mouth open, hanging. But no sound comes out and he simply sobs when Joker's hand slowly loses its grip on his. Spade swallows back a sob. He rests his forehead on their joint hands.
“How grateful I am that you came to that ship that night. How much it meant to me when you held out your hand, how much your words gave an impact on me. You never realized it, you probably never even thought about it. But I am thankful to you, Joker.”
Spade’s tears comes faster. He grits his teeth, closes his eyes, and cries.
"Thank you... for making my nights sparkle once again."
The hand in his grip goes slack. He shakes the hand, squeezes it. “Joker? Say something...? Please?”
There’s no response.
“Joker... Joker, this isn’t funny!” his eyes open rapidly, his own breath turning eratic. He sees that Joker’s blue eyes are closed. His chest isn’t moving. Spade feels like someone shot him with his own ice gun. “Joker!!”
Still nothing.
Spade feels a scream stuck in his throat. He cradles Joker closer to him, pulling him to his chest and shaking him. He feels a hand on his shoulder, he thinks it's Dark Eye, or maybe even Hachi, but he shrugs it off, clenching the cold, cold, cold body of Kaitou Joker to his own. He's choking over his words, his nose is runny, and to damn it all about appearance. "Come on... You're a miracle maker, aren't you?! P-Please... just...” Spade sobs.
“One more miracle...”