/For my good friend Alex3616. I own nothing, by the way.
Now that I think about it, I don't see too much Ranpoe on fanfiction...
Huh.
Enjoy!
"It's like holding on, when my grip is lost; I still feed my insecurity when I know the cost. Is it taking over? Will it bury me?
Or will clarity become the cure for my disease?"
~Disease by Beartooth
Edgar Allan Poe likes to think that he manages to rope his readers into any of his novels.
It's not because of his Ability - The Black Cat In The Rue Morgue - either; he takes hours without rest to perfect even one chapter, two if he's lucky. Ever since a certain detective defeated him in the Locked Room the American writer has been getting requests from the other to write more novels in order to sate his boredom.
Edogawa Ranpo is a peculiar man, indeed.
Ranpo.
The thought of the detective has him feeling funny: his cheeks heat up and his heart beats just a tad bit faster. Karl would always look at him with a mixture of curiosity and worry, the raccoon climbing up his body to rest on top of his head with a small squeak of content just as he did now. Karl had every reason to be worried; just the other day Poe had been continuing his most recent work when Ranpo stopped in for a visit, scaring him and sending his thoughts into chaos. The detective took it in stride and inquired impatiently about the novel in the making…
...To which he'd stammered more than what was considered normal during his response, a dull throb resounding throughout his heart as his nerves got the best of him.
He wonders if he's coming down with something.
With a small sigh he continues to write his near - complete story, putting down what he felt was right in the heat of the moment. (Letting your emotions fully influence your writing was...an enlightening experience. It certainly opened up his viewpoint and tolerance, if anything.) Since Ranpo demanded a more challenging case, he figured that he should mix up the genre and go for a more...capricious subject, one that was "untouchable" to a writer such as himself.
His kryptonite.
Romance.
Just the thought of it makes him grip his quill-pen tighter, biting his lower lip in frustration as he pauses. Romance had too many problems contributed to it, he had deduced early on:
First of all, it was fickle. Romance is stemmed from love - real or perceived - and is practically a wild card. While a good motivator for causing crime it can become confusing for both the author and the reader as the former is pulled into clichés that restrict the overall novel.
Secondly, there are way too many romance novels in the world as it is; adding this on top of it wasn't helping. Besides, who would read another boring romance story that's so far-fetched it'd make even the stone-faced Fukuzawa quirk his lips up in amusement?
Third of all -
Stop! Poe shakes his head furiously as his face ignites to a fiery red, Karl clinging onto him for dear life as to not fall off. He knew that imbedding a secret message throughout the story wasn't unheard of; it makes the reader think, after all.
However, his message was a confession of sorts.
Ranpo-kun is a great detective, so he should be able to help me. I-I'm not good at talking these kinds of things out, however, so I can't tell him out right.
(His heart would seize up on him everytime he tried, as well; it was strange.)
Even so...I want to know what he thinks.
Just this once is all I ask for.
"Poe-kun!"
"Ah!" Poe jumps as a hand waves in front of his face, making him look up to see the person who was on his mind. He's met with the sight of a certain raven-haired detective munching on a bag of chips, staring at him in curiosity (or so he assumes. His green orbs aren't visible, so it's hard to tell at times). "R-Ranpo-kun! You're here a little bit early today…"
"There wasn't anything that piqued my interest at the Agency, so I came here instead. That being said, I'm bored!" Ranpo replies as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. "Aren't you done with your story yet?"
"It's a novel, Ranpo-kun." Poe stresses softly for what seems to be the umpteenth time, Karl chirruping in agreement. "There's a difference!"
"Whatever!" Ranpo waves him off, leaning across the poet's desk in eagerness. The sudden closeness makes Poe flinch and lean backwards in turn, his face doing that thing where it feels as if he's close to an open fire pit. Thank whatever deity that watches over him for his long bangs, which cover his eyes and most of his cheeks; he doesn't know how he would react if Ranpo saw that.
"Soooo…?" The Ultra Deduction User raises an eyebrow, his grin widening as he waits for an answer.
"I-I just need to finish the last chapter and you'll be all set." Poe says with a small smile as Ranpo cheers, the latter throwing his hands in the air as he moves back. The sudden loss of weight on his head leads Poe to glance up and see Ranpo holding Karl, petting the raccoon gently while a potato chip resided in his mouth. With a head shake of fond exasperation and a warmth that was not unwelcome the poet resumes his work, unaware of the multiple glances sent his way.
Ranpo seems to be in a good mood today; maybe, just maybe, he'll tolerate what he's about to do and give him a straightforward answer.
He suddenly grits his teeth, fuming in silence.
Why does love have to be so difficult to put into words?!
"I'm finished, Ranpo-kun…" Poe's hesitant voice permeates the once still air after an hour passes, causing the other to look up from his Nintendo system and beam. He gets up from his position on the floor, Karl rolling off of his lap as he bounds over to the poet.
"Finally! Well, give it here!" At his demand Poe closes the now-complete novel and holds it out for Ranpo to take. The detective snatches it up, flipping eagerly to the first page and devouring the words with his eyes.
"You'll be able to use your Ability in this one. I-It starts off like this: 'There were two individuals who stuck to each other reminiscent of how glue would to skin. They would do anything for the other, and were often seen together on the swings in the playground. I often thought that they were the epitome of best friends, but I couldn't be any further from the truth.'"
His Skill activates, dissolving Ranpo into yellow motes of energy as the detective is sucked into the novel. The book clatters to the ground, Poe striding over and gently picking it up with a sigh leaving his lips.
"Help me, Ranpo-kun...please."
Two hours.
Poe checks the clock again to see if his dull amethyst orbs were deceiving him; they weren't.
It's been two hours since The Great Edogawa Ranpo has entered the book, and he hasn't come back yet.
The ex-Guild member is starting to get worried, clutching Karl closer to his chest as he paces. He knew this novel was different than his usual murder-mysteries, but Ranpo was able to use Ultra Deduction in this one.
It should have taken him two minutes, maybe even five if he stayed to hear the whole narration…
He hadn't made the novel entirely long, either; it was only 200 pages in length, which was a challenge considering his tendency to procure 400-page books.
Did I...stump him?
Sitting down behind his desk with a sigh, Poe rubs the side of his companion's head with a frown on his face. The novel lays on top of his desk, giving off an innocuous vibe to the poet. What if he accidentally trapped Edogawa? What if his (sort of) rival was stuck in there forever?
Will he never see him again?
The last thought makes Poe's heart hurt, the poet grasping his chest as a surprised gasp escapes past his lips. Why did that happen? It was different from fear, from loneliness…
It made him feel lighter yet it wrapped him in chains.
And it's only when I think of Ranpo-kun…
As he's lost within his own mind the book starts to glow, violently flipping open to a page and settling there. The sudden sound makes his head jerk up to see Ranpo jump out of the novel, his eyes hidden behind his bangs.
The lack of noise from the other makes Poe fidget, his anxiety starting to act up. "R-Ranpo-kun…?" He says hesitantly, wondering if he formed an answer to his inquiry.
Silence.
Slowly - ever so slowly - the detective raises his head to reveal two wide orbs, their usual jovial forest color frozen in shock.
"R-R-Ranpo-kun?" Poe asks in a smaller voice, unnerved by the continued silence from the raven-haired male. Was his novel that bad? ...No, Ranpo would have said something if it was.
So, what was bothering him?
"Poe-kun."
"H-Hai?" Ranpo's voice sounds strange, as if he's half asleep when fully awake. Poe's anxiety skyrockets when Ranpo walks around the desk to stand beside his chair, Karl jumping off of the poet's lap to scamper towards his water bowl.
"Stand up for me."
"O...kay…?" Poe does as instructed, his arms gripping the armrests as he gets to his feet. Once he straightens himself out he glances down to see Ranpo, wondering where he was taking this. "I-Is there something you need, Ranpo-ku - !"
Ranpo yanks on Poe's coat to get his head down to his level, smashing his lips against the ex-Guild member's. Poe's eyes widen as the detective slams him against the wall adjacent to his desk, his tongue fervently mapping out the inside of his mouth.
A wanton groan of need escapes past Poe's lips before he realizes what he's doing, his face flushing to a cherry red as Ranpo tilts the poet's head to get at a better angle. His pulse quickens and he's all - too aware of every little detail, the ache in his heart returning with a vengeance. After a minute or two passes the detective pulls back, one hand gripping Poe's arm to hold him in place while the other brushes away the writer's bangs to stare into his eyes.
"That's your answer, Poe-kun."
Poe can't speak, let alone ask a question; a squeak escapes him as he struggles to catch his breath.
(He kind of wants to kiss Ranpo again, to taste the delicious flavor of sweets.
The thought makes his face burn.)
"The answer to the novel was my own opinion on your question. The two who were inseparable were in love with each other, but a misunderstanding comes their way which leads to them splitting. Because of it, one gets killed because he stayed in his home instead of staying over his friend's house, a serial killer ending his life.
However, the serial killer turned out to be his best friend, who had always been unstable and insecure his whole life, his parents having abandoned him and being labeled as a social outcast; their misunderstanding drove him off the deep end, and in a red haze of anger killed what he thought to be a random civilian. The author merely saw it fit to omit that fact.
The swingset is a representation of their childhood but more importantly the good memories the killer shared with his friend. In a twist of irony it causes him the most pain, leading the killer to take his own life there by slitting his wrists with a combat knife his friend had given him. Neither got the chance to confess due to unforeseen circumstances."
"...Y-Yeah. Yes." Poe clears his throat, willing the heat to leave his cheeks. His body doesn't listen. "What does that have to do with - "
"What the killer was feeling is how you're feeling right now, Poe-kun." Ranpo interrupts, catching the poet off-guard. "The butterflies, the blushing, the stuttering...you're in love."
Love?
I...l-love Ranpo-kun?
It feels as if a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders, sending him soaring into the clouds. What Ranpo said was true, it seems.
It felt...right.
"...I see...w-well, thank you Ranpo-kun - "
"I'm not done yet." Ranpo cuts him off once more, making Poe widen his eyes. "I feel the same thing with you, and I didn't know what it was until you sucked me into that story."
"Novel." Poe protests weakly, a small smile gracing his features before disappearing just as quickly. "S-So, what you mean to say is that…"
"I love you." Ranpo declares with no hesitation, making the blush on Poe's face return. It darkens once he sees a tinge of pink to Ranpo's cheeks. "I love you, Poe-kun."
"I-I...l-l-love you too." He says shyly, making a smile stretch across Ranpo's face. "It took your answer for me to realize it myself…"
"Typical of Poe-kun!" Ranpo drags Poe to his desk, the former hopping up on it and sitting down so that he was at Poe's level. "You know what else I realized?"
"Hmm?" Poe hums in question, slowly getting lost in those alluring green orbs Ranpo possesses. It was a mystery as to why the detective kept those gems hidden; they were beautiful and represented Ranpo perfectly.
"That I was right; kissing an Edgar Allan Poe does feel good. It's like a special treat."
"R-Ranpo-kun!" Poe says in embarrassment, seeing the smirk that slowly spread across his friend's (do friends kiss each other? He doesn't know what they are anymore) features.
"I think I want more treats, Edgar~"
"Ranpo-kun!" As Ranpo recaptures his lips in a sweet kiss that quickly turns heated, Poe smiles as his eyes close.
Maybe his kryptonite can turn into his strongest asset.
/Whoo, 2.4k+ words for my OTP in Bungou Stray Dogs! These two are so adorable together, and Poe is an absolute bean! (*Coughs into hand like Akutagawa*) Ahem...Anyways, thank you guys for reading and if you want more Ranpoe, just message me! I could make a mini series full of Ranpoe :)
(*Yells angrily into the air*) Why the hell are there so few fanfics where Poe is in the tag line?! C'mon, fans!
I hope you guys have a good day!
~VampChippzRisesAgain