Tezuka, Ryoma and Karupin cuddling. What could be cuter?
Tezuka sat up in bed, engrossed in his book. The detective was just about to reveal whether the murderer of Lord Watson was the shady butler or the illegitimate son he'd had with a tightrope walker from a travelling circus when he was sixteen. Tezuka was pretty sure it was the butler.
He felt the bed move under him. He glanced up from his book and saw Karupin trotting across the bed towards him. He reached out and stroked the cat as he hopped onto his lap and stretched out across it. Karupin purred happily as Tezuka returned to his book, but continued to stroke the cat.
"Have they found the murderer yet?" Ryoma asked when he came into the bedroom. Tezuka had been keeping him up to date with developments in the book.
"Not yet," Tezuka replied.
"It was the bastard son."
"Ryoma," Tezuka warned, his voice full of disapproval of Ryoma's language.
"Kunimitsu," Ryoma replied in the same tone of voice.
Tezuka went back to his book whilst Ryoma changed for bed. He wished the detective would hurry up and reveal the murderer. He didn't need to tell the gathered audience of suspects why it couldn't have been Lady Watson, they'd established three chapters ago that she'd been showing the gardener how to properly clean drains. She had not wanted anyone to know for fear that it would ruin her status.
The bed dipped next to him as Ryoma got in and curled up next to Tezuka. Their hands touched periodically as Ryoma joined in stroking Karupin.
"You were right," Tezuka said a few minutes later. The murderer had been revealed.
"Told you," Ryoma said, stifling a yawn. "Now put the book away. We need to get up tomorrow."
"I want to see why it wasn't the butler," Tezuka told him, "go to sleep if you're tired." Not that it would make it any easier to get Ryoma up the next morning.
"It's too light," Ryoma muttered.
Tezuka sighed, he'd seen Ryoma sleeping under a table once and had witnessed him falling asleep on the floor in the corner of an airport. To say Ryoma could sleep anywhere was an understatement in Tezuka's opinion. He wondered how Atobe managed to cope with Jirou.
He stopped stroking Karupin to run his fingers through Ryoma's hair. "I won't be long," he promised, "I'll tell you why it wasn't the butler."
It turned out that the butler had been having an affair with the Dowager Countess. Tezuka had to hand it to the author, he hadn't been expecting that. Neither had Ryoma judging by how he looked up at Tezuka to make sure he wasn't messing with him.
Karupin had grown bored of lack of attention form Tezuka and had gone to curl up on the other side of Ryoma. Tezuka put his book and glasses back on the bedside table and switched off the light. Almost immediately he was pulled into Ryoma's arms.
"Night," Ryoma said, judging by his voice he was already half asleep.
"Good night," Tezuka replied, wrapping his arms around the other man and drifting off to sleep himself.