"What do you mean you lost the key?" Kuroba Kaito demanded.
Saguru winced at the sheer, incredulous rage those words held. To be fair, they were more or less deserved. It was mostly Saguru's fault that they were up on the roof of an apartment building only accessible by ladder, handcuffed together, with Kuroba having no way to pick a lock. On the other hand, Kuroba was Kid at the moment, so Saguru had felt entirely justified for taking the opportunity granted by a shift of wind and Kuroba accidentally gassing himself in the face instead of Saguru.
"As I said," Saguru said, trying to remain calm because one of them had to, "I do not appear to have them in my pockets anymore. They must have been lost in the scuffle at the heist earlier."
Saguru may have been a bit overly creative in his cuffing method. Taping Kuroba's hands shut and handcuffing him behind his back would likely have been enough. He had felt paranoid and only had perhaps five minutes before Kuroba started stirring, no doubt somewhat immune to his own sleep gas concoction, and had ended up handcuffing himself to Kuroba as well as an extra precaution to keep him from just jumping from the roof or some other ridiculous tactic.
Thus the current problem. The roof was only accessible by ladder. Kuroba's hands were behind his back. And Saguru was stuck to him. Put together, it was tricky at best, impossible at worst to try to get off the roof without uncuffing.
And Saguru had lost the key.
"Great," Kuroba huffed. "Wonderful. And how were you planning to get me down to arrest me?"
Saguru pressed his lips together tightly, unwilling to admit that he hadn't thought that far ahead. He had tried to train himself out of acting on impulse, but it seemed he still had a lot of work to do there. "I'll call Nakamori-keibu," he said after a moment, pulling out the police handheld transceiver. He'd barely blipped the button to speak when a shoulder knocked it from his hand.
With rising dread, Saguru watched it skip off the flat roof with a crack before sailing over the edge. Somewhere below there was a crash. Saguru looked at where it had disappeared and took a breath. "Or we can not do that and stay stuck up a roof all night," he said sourly. If only he hadn't left his phone in the car. After the last time he broke one vaulting over a railing…
"Oh, so I'm supposed to sit still and let myself get arrested?" Kuroba shot back. He glared over his shoulder. Saguru didn't know how Kuroba thought he was being subtle or hiding anything. Sure, he'd lowered his voice a bit and added some contouring to change his face shape, but his eyes were the same strange shade of blue and he had the same shape of lips. The hair peeking from his hat's brim was the same dark brown. And he'd covered it in makeup, but Saguru could still see the tiny raised bump of a mole by Kuroba's right ear. It was entirely obvious who he was and that Nakamori couldn't see it was because he was blinded by biases.
Saguru tugged on where their wrists were connected, making Kuroba brace to keep his balance and not wrench his arms. "As a criminal, yes, you are supposed to let yourself get arrested once caught."
"What kind of criminal goes quietly?" Kuroba complained. "And did you have to tape my thumb under all my other fingers? What if I fell on my hands? That's practically a guaranteed broken thumb."
"If I didn't take your thumb like that, you could likely dislocate it and slip free."
"Exactly. It's really inconvenient."
Saguru scoffed. Kuroba thought he was funny. He wasn't. He was irritating and a challenge.
Kuroba jerked and Saguru staggered forward a few steps.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Oh you know," Kuroba huffed as he moved his torso in ways that he shouldn't be able to with his hands behind his back. "Just trying to dislocate a shoulder."
"Are you insane? Even if you did, you'd only have succeeded in injuring yourself!" Saguru was jerked forward again by his wrist. They were both going to be bruised by the end of this, weren't they?
"Well do you have an idea to get out of this?"
"…I could probably untape your hands."
Kuroba raised an eyebrow and thrust his hands back pointedly. Saguru looked up because he realized another miscalculation. Namely that by cuffing his hand to Kuroba's wrists, it was stuck right next to Kuroba's butt. Which was currently emphasized by Kuroba's posture.
Tape. He would pick off the tape, they would free themselves, and Saguru would just chalk the night up for his loss because he didn't actually want to spend the night on a building until someone miraculously managed to find him just because he was too prideful to let Kuroba go.
He plucked at the tape. And plucked some more. The angle was wrong and he could only effectively use one hand. He breathed hard out his mouth as his short-cut nails failed to catch the edge yet again.
"Wow, this is sad to experience," Kuroba deadpanned. "A detective who can't even manage the tape he put on me in the first place."
"Shut up." This would be easier if it wasn't night for one. Saguru tore a few bits off here and there. The tape, irritatingly, refused to come free in a strip. He could feel the flex of Kuroba's fingers under its surface, but after ten frustrating minutes he had to pause. "This isn't working."
"No shit, Sherlock." Kuroba rolled his shoulders as much as he was able, probably trying to relieve the strain on them from the position. The cuffs clinked, mocking them. "How are you at lockpicking?"
"Not good? I haven't had much reason to do more than pick a lock on a diary or something similar."
"Of course." Kuroba sighed. "Thankfully handcuffs don't have complex locks. Even you should be able to pick it. They're pickable with even a bobby pin."
"So grateful for your vote of confidence," Saguru said sarcastically.
Kuroba craned his neck around to frown at him. "I have picks, but clearly I can't get them. Just grab one and get us loose."
"Grab from where?" Saguru wasn't about to do a strip-search to find a lockpick. The idea made his cheeks heat though.
"Oh, any of five places," Kuroba said lightly. "The easiest would be in one of my chest pockets."
"Right." Saguru paused a moment to contemplate how he would reach before internally shrugging and stepping closer, right hand reaching around and into Kuroba's suit jacket. He could feel Kuroba freeze, muscles like rocks and the breath stopped in his chest as Saguru had to press bodily against him. He felt along Kuroba's body-warm silk shirt, the edge of the tie, before turning his hand to feel for pockets in the jacket.
A few seconds later, he concluded that there were far too many pockets to guess.
"Which one?" he asked, hand skimming up toward Kuroba's neck. There were pockets there too. How did he keep such a clean suit line with so many hidden pockets? Against Saguru's chest, Kuroba's frame shook with a delayed breath. If he hadn't been touching him, Saguru would never have noticed.
"Left," Kuroba said, "and down—not that far!" He twitched away, ironically pulling Saguru in closer as Saguru's fingers skimmed his lower ribs. Ticklish? "I really don't need you setting off a smoke bomb right on top of us." Ah, not ticklish. "It's up against one of the darts. Right against the seam. A little right, maybe a centimeter up…"
Saguru's fingers found something made of metal, one end rounded into a knob that made it easier to grasp and pull. There were three others, lined one after another. Saguru slid one free, his hand leaving Kuroba's jacket. The air felt shockingly cold compared to the warmth of Kuroba's body.
"Good, yeah, that's the one I meant. Now pick the lock."
Saguru looked down at the tangle of cuffs. Thought about angles. Crouched. His face burned and he was fiercely glad that Kuroba couldn't see him all but pressed against the back of Kuroba's thighs, too mindful of proximity to give into leaning against them. This was mortifying. Saguru was rethinking his stance on handcuffing people to his person. There had to be a better way. Like handcuffing to a railing or something.
The lock didn't click open easily. Saguru blamed the fact that he hadn't picked a lock in three years, but it was a bit humiliating knowing that it would take perhaps a second or two at most for Kuroba to free himself from all three locks.
The lock clicked. Saguru held the pressure as he eased the teeth of the cuffs off and open from one of Kuroba's wrists.
"Oh thank fuck," Kuroba muttered, pulling his wrist free and releasing his shoulders from their tensed state. He immediately started attacking the tape on his hand with his teeth. Finally able to turn and see Saguru without awkward acrobatics, Kuroba lifted an eyebrow above his monocle and rattled the wrist where they were still linked together.
"I thought you would appreciate not having your hands behind your back before anything else."
"I'd appreciate—bleh—not having tape—rrgh—all over my hand! How many layers are there?!"
Saguru averted his eyes and went to work on the cuff connecting them. He…may have used a good portion of a roll on each hand.
"You," Kuroba grunted around gross sounds of trying to chew through tape, "are on my shit list, Detective. Next heist, be prepared."
Saguru stopped picking the lock to scowl up at him. "I could leave us locked together and force you down the ladder and to the station."
"You couldn't," Kuroba said confidently. "Try to get me down the ladder and I'll definitely get us both injured."
"You wouldn't."
"Could and would. You underestimate what I'd do to escape."
Saguru had the mental image of a raccoon flash into his head, chewing off its paw to escape a trap. Actually causing Kuroba physical harm was the last thing he wanted. The lockpick slipped and he had to duck down to get it, fingertips scraping concrete.
"You're terrible at that," Kuroba said, or more, "Yr trrble ah dat" as his teeth were tugging at a thicker chunk of tape.
"Not all of us make a point of knowing dubiously legal skills."
"Lockpicking is perfectly legal to know."
"And perfectly illegal to use on someone else's lock without permission."
"Details."
The lock clicked free and now Kuroba had two sets of cuffs dangling on one wrist and two hands still mummified in tape to resemble an old, low-quality pixel game character.
Saguru could leave Kid there, go and try to get Nakamori, and come back likely before Kid could chew through all the tape. But Kid probably didn't actually need to use his hands to grip much in order to escape.
He had well and truly lost this one by trying too hard.
Ah well.
Saguru mustered a bit of boldness in his defeat and stepped forward. Kuroba eyed him like he was a stranger's dog as Saguru held out the lockpick.
"What do you expect me to grab that with?" Kuroba asked.
"I don't." He took another step closer, body heat mixing with body heat. He had the pleasure of watching Kuroba's eyes widen and his mouth drop open in shock as Saguru slipped his hand back into his suit jacket. Finding the right spot was a bit tricky from this direction, but he found where he'd gotten the pick from and slid it back into place.
It felt a bit like winning as he noted the hint of pink in Kuroba's cheeks as he drew his hand back.
"Since I'm letting you go, I might as well give that back," Saguru explained.
Kid blinked several times, rapidly. "You're a jerk."
Saguru raised an eyebrow. He took a step back.
"…You're leaving me on the rooftop with my hands covered in tape, aren't you?" Kid said, resigned.
Saguru smiled. "Good luck with getting free. But then you're a world class thief. I'm sure you'll manage."
"No, you're a bastard."
"My parents were happily married when I was born," Saguru said grinning. This, at least, was a win over Kuroba. Over Kid. "Goodnight, Kuroba-kun."
"Who are you calling Kuroba?" Kuroba sputtered.
Saguru waved and stepped neatly down the ladder. He could hear Kuroba's muffled curses above him. Perhaps this counted as a draw. Saguru could live with that.