There was a pile of dishes in the sink and even more spread out over the counter. Kaito opened the dish washer and scowled at the dirty dishes.

"Conan! I was only gone for three days! What the hell?" Kaito slammed the dish washer closed, stalking deeper into the house.

"Kid?"

Conan was on the couch, a pile of case files on the table and the space between the files filled with dirty coffee cups. The carpet hadn't been vacuumed, the spilled glitter from one of his traps still in the fibers, and there were towels draped over the backs of the dining room chairs.

"Three days. I have been gone three days and you turned my house into... this!" Kaito gestured to the entirety of the mess, eyes narrowing as Conan looked around himself and blinked in surprise.

"It wasn't that bad..."

"Have you had anything to eat? All of the dishes are dirty, but I can't assume much with you," Kaito said, starting to tidy up the files into neat piles and staking the coffee cups.

Conan dropped the case file in his hand, frowning at Kaito's grumbling. "I'm sorry. Hattori sent me a bunch of cold cases and then Hakuba dropped off some of your international heist files and well-"

"You've been ordering in takeout?" Kaito snapped, having uncovered a pile of takeout cartons under several files. "Too much trouble to clean up after yourself?"

"I'm sorry!" Conan shouted, face starting to turn red in embarrassment.

Kaito snorted.

"Sorry I'm home a day early, I bet." He abandoned the case files and carried the coffee cups into the kitchen. The coffee cups were aligned at the end of the counter. He added soap to the dishwasher and started it, piling the dishes beside the sink and filling it with water. He submerged what he could and let them soak.

Conan trotted into the kitchen, arms full of empty takeout boxes, and he dumped them in the trash bin.

"What happened?" Kaito asked, back turned and hands busy washing up. He was upset more than he was angry. He expected better.

"I'm sorry," Conan repeated, coming up to the counter beside him. His head was at Kaito's shoulders, and instead of helping him, he stared at Kaito.

"So you've said." Kaito stopped and stared at the wall behind the sink. "You know, when you explained the benefits of living together, I thought I already knew all your faults. I could live with the daily trips to the police. I could deal with the publicity. I could even live with the absolute madhouse of law enforcement and upstanding citizens who follow you home and overprotect you. But this-"

"The kids came over and, like I said, Hattori and Hakuba dropped things off for me. I got wrapped up and distracted because it was easier than thinking about how empty the house was."

Kaito groaned.

"You can't act cute like that and get out of trouble," he scolded, turning to wag a finger in Conan's face. Conan's face twisted in unhappiness and scorn.

"Don't call me cute, Kid."

"But that's what you are!" Kaito reachd out before he could get away and dragged his wet, soapy hand over Conan's head, making the boy cry out in shock.

"Hey!"

"You've got a little tiara, Conan-chan," Kaito teased, sculpting the soap into a crown on his head.

Conan kicked his shin, hard and fast right where he temporarily lost feeling in his leg. He stumbled to the side and brought up his other hand. Kaito cupped his palm, dropping it into the water and swiping a spray over the edge of the sink and down Conan's front.

"Asshole!"

"Language, young man!"

Conan slapped his hands in the soapy water, splattering both of them. Kaito turned a faucet on and gripped the mouth in one hand, angling his fingers so the spray would surge out over Conan. Conan shielded his face with his hands, sputtering curses at Kaito but not moving out of range. Kaito let up after he was sure there wasn't a dry spot left and Conan's hair was curling at the ends.

"I might be willing to forgive you if you deal with the living room and dining room. I can finish the dishes. Then we'll have some of the treats I brought back from Italy and you can promise to never, ever leave my house in chaos again."

Conan glared at him, the entire effect ruined by his sodden clothes and wet hair. There were flecks of water on his oversized glasses that dripped off the edges and into a puddle at Conan's feet.

"No one would ever believe how meticulous you are. Like a damn cat," Conan muttered, tugging at his wet shirt and leaving a trail of water behind as he headed for the bathroom.

"Be grateful I'm not telling Ran-chan about this incident! You know she'd be disappointed in her darling little brother!"

"Go to hell, Kid!"