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Kuwabara was tired. So tired, in fact, that he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open as he walked home from campus. His head lulled to the side as he yawned, very nearly walking into a kid in front of him. Finals were taking a lot out of him, he would be the first to admit, and the fact that Urameshi hadn’t been back to their apartment last night wasn’t exactly helping things either. Just as Kuwabara leaned up against a pole to catch his bearings and make sure he was, in fact, heading in the correct direction toward home, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Kuwabara tensed, ready to summon his sword if --

“Calm down, it’s just me.” Kurama’s voice came from behind him, a mischievous grin on his face, “Finals got you down?” The light for the crosswalk turned green and they both made their way across the road, Kurama’s hand guiding him gently on his lower back.

“I’m fine.” Kazuma ran a hand over his face, relaxed now that Kurama was with him, “Have you heard from Yusuke yet?”

Kurama frowned and shook his head, “Unfortunately, no. I think Hiei went to look for him this morning, but neither of them were home when I got back from class.”

Kazuma hummed in response, his eyes drooping as they rounded the corner. Only three more blocks until they were home, but his legs felt like lead blocks.

“I can carry you if you want.” Kurama chuckled, arm wrapping further around Kazuma’s waist to support more of his weight. And on any other day, Kazuma would have glared at him and offered some sort of comeback about how he’s not a child, but today? Today he just leaned into Kurama’s touch and let himself be lifted off his feet.

---

When Kuwabara woke, it was already dark outside. He was all wrapped up in bed and unfortunately alone. The clock on the nightstand read 19:00. He’d been asleep for six hours and no one had woken him. That wasn’t a good sign - probably meant Hiei and Yusuke weren’t back yet - which immediately had his nerves on edge. Stretching out his muscles, Kazuma quickly changed into some lounge pants and an old t-shirt, and headed down to the kitchen. Something smelled good - like spices and seared meat, carried along with a hint of rose that meant Kurama was the one in the kitchen. Not that Kazuma didn’t already know that.

Kurama was situated in front of the stovetop, stirring something in a large pot. He met Kazuma’s eyes for a moment and then looked down, his mouth set in a worried frown.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” Kurama motioned toward the cabinets, an unspoken invitation to begin setting the table. Kazuma nodded, pulling four bowls from the cupboard and settling them down on each of their placemats, just as Kurama pulled the pot off the burner. They worked in sync to set the rest of the table, a pattern well-worn with time, even if they were missing two of their partners. When everything was ready, Kurama sat across from him, placed his hand over Kazuma’s for a moment, and squeezed. He smiled, reassuring, even though both of them were worried that maybe this was the day that someone might not come back.

They settled in the living room after dinner, Kurama laying heavy into Kazuma’s side, his head resting on his shoulder as they watched the evening news. It was quiet, and after half-an-hour of nothing but drivel from the newscaster ( no accidents, fiery car crashes, strange lightning, or the like) Kazuma changed the channel over to something a little more entertaining to take the edge off. The combination of finals kicking his ass for a whole three weeks and finally coming home to two of his partners missing was making his stomach all topsy-turvy. Eikichi curled up in his lap a few minutes later and he smiled and gave her some head pats. She purred and rubbed her cheek against his hand before settling down, kneading at the blanket over his legs. He was still so tired, and the warmth from both Eikichi and Kurama had his eyes drooping soon enough.

----------

When Kazuma woke again, morning sunlight was filtering in through the blinds of the living room and Eikichi was still curled up in his lap, little paws shielding her eyes from the sun. Kurama was still leaning against him, cuddled snug into Kazuma’s side, but Hiei was now flopped over the other end of the couch, fingers lazily intertwined with Kurama’s in their sleep. Hiei looked insanely peaceful, all snuggled up with a throw blanket haphazardly covering him. Yusuke was nowhere in sight, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t home - if Hiei hadn’t been able to bring him back he’d have woken them. And just as the slight unrest of not seeing Yusuke was settling over him, Kazuma heard the tell-tale click of the coffee pot being switched on followed by the smell of Yusuke’s favorite dark roast. A quiet sound of pans clinking and Yusuke swearing softly under his breath, and Kazuma was carefully wiggling out from under Kurama and apologizing to Eikichi as he placed her on the floor.  

Yusuke’s back was to him, cooking away something on the stovetop. Kazuma smiled and walked over to him, wrapping his arms around Yusuke’s waist and kissing his neck.

“We were worried about you, idiot. Where’ve you been?” He rested his chin on Yusuke’s shoulder, glancing absently down at what Yusuke was cooking. Fried eggs, nothing too exciting, but enough for all four of them to eat.

“Yeah, yeah. Hiei already reamed me for making you guys worry, you don’t have to lecture me twice.” Yusuke huffed, leaning back into Kazuma as he flipped the eggs, “You wanna go wake them up while I get everything ready for breakfast?”

Sam groaned as he picked himself up from the floor, his wrist stinging as he put pressure on it - probably a strain, hopefully not a break. He blinked, realized that he was no longer in a warehouse, and the witch that had been less than three feet from him was gone as well. There was speckled linoleum beneath his fingers and as Sam took a look around, he noticed he was in a hallway that looked oddly familiar. He remembered this - the tan brick walls, the old wooden display cases, the stairway at the end of the corridor, and as he turned, he heard the telltale sound of a spring-lock door opening behind him.

And then? A fond click of a tongue and an all-too-familiar voice called out to him, “Did you get lost there, detective?” Sam’s heart was in his throat in an instant.

"Gabe?" Sam whispered, turning and moving toward him faster than he probably should have, with his head still spinning from being knocked around by that witch. But it’s Gabriel , here, now, right in front of him, and Sam couldn’t help but reach out for him as he stumbled closer. Gabriel took a step back, his eyes wide and his trademark grin quickly transformed into a frightened scowl. He was wearing a navy jumpsuit, his hair shorter than the last time Sam had seen him, but that didn’t matter now.

"What?" Gabriel breathed, taking another step back, but Sam had him, his fingers closing around his wrist. Sam pulled him close, his face buried in Gabriel's hair the instant they made contact. And it only occurred to him moments later, how strange the situation was.  How he'd been in a warehouse minutes before, and yet now he stood in a university corridor, his dead lover cradled in his arms. And he remembered, then, why this place looked so familiar. He looked down, his heart still pounding in his throat, expecting to see a demon, a ghost, or some eldritch monstrosity in place of where Gabriel had just been. Instead, Gabriel threw him, quite literally, into a wall, and all Sam heard before he blacked out was the sound of snapping fingers.

--------------

Castiel was beautiful from the first moment Dean had seen him.

Dean wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when he climbed that dilapidated tower in the middle of that forest all those months ago, but it sure as hell wasn’t a man with black wings jutting out from his shoulders. The dark ink-black wings with violet underlays and tips were absolutely stunning and the fact that Dean was one of very few people who actually got to see them made a slight trill of exhilaration run down his spine every time he thought about them.

It had been nearly a year now since Sam, Cas, and Dean had arrived back in the capital and reunited Castiel with his real family. Almost a year since Cas had seen the lanterns up-close for the first time, all bright-eyed with wonder and excitement, and Dean was doing everything within his power to make sure the second time he got to see them was just as magical.

“You should kiss him.” Sam whispered, elbow nudging Dean in the side. Dean glared at him, mumbled something about getting two separate boats to watch the lantern celebration, and Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s been a whole year, Dean. Just kiss him already.”

“Shut up, Sammy.”

“I’m just saying that--”

“Shut. Up. Sammy.” Dean murmured through gritted teeth, “He’s a prince.”

“And you’re the knight who rescued him from a tower. How much more cliche do you two need to get before you realize that’s in lo--” Dean’s hand clapped over his mouth, effectively silencing him before he could say the dreaded L word.

“Shh.”

Sam pried Dean’s hand from his face and sighed, letting the issue drop as Dean went on to explain his elaborate plan for the lantern celebration this year. None of which, Sam begrudgingly accepted, had anything to do with accepting his feelings for Castiel. Unless, well, Sam did something about it.

-----

Sam was supposed to have been at the dock at 6pm to help Dean set up the boat for tonight’s celebration, and yet it was not 7 o’clock with no signs of his meddling little brother. Which, if Dean knew anything, it was that an absent Sam usually meant trouble of some sort heading his way, so his nerves were already on edge when Cas arrived at 8.  His wings were tucked away, though Dean could see the outline of them through his light coat as he helped him onto the boat.

“Is Sam not coming with us?” Cas asked and Dean shook his head.

“Apparently not.”

Castiel hummed in response and smiled as Dean wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. As Dean rowed them out to the middle of the lake with two lanterns tucked underneath his seat just minutes before they were supposed to release them. And just as he had hoped, Cas’ eyes were bright with excitement and the corners of his mouth were upturned in a small, content smile. Dean felt his heart ache with fondness as he carefully handed Cas his lantern and watched as he let it go just above the water’s surface. Dean let his own lantern go up above them, and chuckled as it met Cas’, floating up into the sky side-by-side.

Cas came to sit beside him, reaching the blanket over Dean’s shoulders to share the warmth, and they watched as hundreds of lanterns drifted by, lights reflecting off the water and shining in the night air like wandering lightning bugs. When Dean finally looks back down at Cas, he’s surprised to find him staring not at the lanterns, but at himself.

“Do I have pie on my face or something?” Dean asked, heart beating a little quicker in his chest as he noticed Cas’ eyes flickering between staring into his eyes and glancing at his lips.

“No. If you did, I’d have wiped it off for you.” Cas said plainly, and Dean chuckled nervously. Cas reached out, tentatively touching Dean’s cheek and pausing. When Dean didn’t react, he moved forward, gently pressing their lips together. He pulled back a few moments later and smiled big and goofy and Dean stayed very still. Cas looked back up at the sky, once again watching the lanterns.

“You--” Dean started, but then stopped.

“I’ve loved you for a long time, Dean,” Cas’ took Dean’s hand into his own and leaned against him, his head resting heavy on Dean’s shoulder, “Thank you.”

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Sam woke slowly, his eyes blinking open and trying to take in his surroundings. He tried to lift his arms and found that he wasn’t able, noticed he was tied to a chair and said chair was sitting in the middle of a devil’s trap surrounded by a ring of burning holy oil. The room he was in was dim, but he could still make out a few distinct things: the floor was a dark hardwood and the walls were stained log - he was in a cabin. He glanced around, trying to get his eyes to focus to the dark, and noticed an ornate rug just to the left of him that was starkly familiar - it had been in the cabin Gabriel had brought him to after Dean died, back when he still thought Gabriel was Loki. It could just be a coincidence, of course it could, because Gabriel was dead. He’d died in the Elysian Fields hotel over three years ago and Sam knew that. Sam knew he was dead. He’d seen the burned ash wings spreading out from his lifeless vessel. Gabriel was dead.

And yet, as he strained his eyes in the darkness, he saw a figure leaning in the doorway, a figure with golden-shining eyes. Sam cleared his throat and tried to make a mental map of everything he could possibly use as a weapon against this...being...that looked exactly like his dead archangel boyfriend. No angel blade, no demon-killing knife, no gun. He tried to wriggle out of the restraints on his wrists, but they wouldn’t budge.

“You won’t be able to break those, don’t waste your energy.” The figure in the doorway said, and Sam winced - it sounded so much like Gabriel it hurt. He moved toward Sam, stepping into the light just outside of the ring of holy fire, “Who are you?”

Sam smiled weakly and paused, looking him over. The navy jumpsuit had been replaced with a simple red button-down underneath a tan jacket and a pair of dark-wash jeans. His eyes were still honey-gold, glowing bright and angry in the dim light. Sam hadn’t seen him like this since, well, since the night he’d died.

“I’m Sam Winchester.” Sam said, and the man let out a bitter laugh.

“No, you’re not.” He pointed a blade at him, “Sam Winchester is asleep in his motel room. So, I’m gonna ask again, who are you?”

“Sam Winchester.” Sam repeated, brows furrowing. Sam Winchester is asleep in his motel room. Familiar college hallway, a Gabriel look-a-like. What looked like an archangel blade in the Gabriel-look-a-like’s hand. The man scoffed and twirled the blade between his fingers, walking slowly around the ring of holy fire. Sam could hear his boots thunking across the hardwood floor as he came to stand directly behind him. There was a long pause and Sam could hear his blood ringing in his ears as he tried to fit together a plan. The ring of holy fire dissipated and Sam heard him step closer, and suddenly there was cool metal pressing up against his neck, a hand in his hair forcing his head back to look into those fire-golden eyes.

“How do you know my name?” Not-Gabriel’s breath ghosted over his face and it smelled like caramel coffee. He placed two fingers on Sam’s neck, gliding soft to the pressure point just below his jaw. A moment passed where he just looked into Sam’s eyes before that all-too-familiar feeling of grace rushed through Sam’s body, warming him, surging through his nerves like live electricity. Sam closed his eyes, leaning slightly into the touch, and he knew in that moment that this was Gabriel. He’d know that feeling anywhere. Regardless of what Dean always said, every angel Sam had encountered had a different feeling to their grace. Castiel’s was colder, like ice running through his veins, Gadreel’s had been heavy, suffocating, and lukewarm, Lucifer’s -- Sam didn’t want to think about -- fire coursing under his skin, burning down his throat and scorching his insides. And Gabriel’s was warm. It was warm and it felt right, like he was safe and loved every moment it flowed through him.

Gabriel’s fingers slowly withdrew and Sam looked up at him - at the hard line of his mouth, the angry furrow of his brow. Sam smiled, slow and sad, and Gabriel snapped his fingers once more.

------------------------------------------------------------------

“’Sup losers?” Kaito nearly shouted, waking up Heiji and Shinichi, but barely startling Saguru, who was, as always, still awake, cold coffee in hand, looking only a bit disheveled.

“Gods, Kaito. Why the fuck are you like this?” Heiji rubbed his temples, but graciously grabbed the coffee and donut bag handed to him.

“Figured you guys might like some breakfast. It is 7am, you know.” Kaito replied, handing a cup of hot tea and a bag of bagels to Shinichi. He kissed Saguru, who was only a little out of it, despite having been awake for a record 58 hours straight, running on only coffee and adrenaline.

“I got you a blonde white lightning, as requested. And some yogurt for good measure.” Kaito smiled and placed the coffee in Saguru’s hands before putting the yogurt in the small mini-fridge next to him.

“Thank you, darling, you’re a godsend.” Saguru said, staring off at the back wall behind Kaito’s head. Maybe “not too out of it” was a bit of an understatement.

“I think you may need actual sleep instead of espresso. Is this case really that difficult?” The magician asked. There were case files strewn about and gruesome photo after gruesome photo tacked onto the corkboard in the corner.

“’S been pretty tough. No leads, even with Boy Wonder and RoboCop workin on it.” Heiji said, scarfing down 2 jelly donuts at once.

“M’ not boy-wonder…” Shinichi mumbled, turning toward the back of the couch that he was laying on. Snoring followed shortly after and that was one down—two to go.

Convincing Saguru to go to sleep was always difficult. Luring him onto something that resembled a flat, somewhat soft surface, was the hardest part. Now, where Saguru was smart, sleep-deprived Saguru was tricky . He would complicitly follow you to the bedroom and sit on the bed, smile, and nod, but not look directly at you. Always over your left shoulder. Sometimes Kaito wondered if sleep-deprived Saguru gained the ability to see another plane of existence, but it was more likely that his brain was too busy working on theories to control what he was looking at. Then, when you got him to lay back, and you thought he was on the verge of sleep, you would leave the room to collect the others and that’s when he would strike. Sometimes he would try to climb out the window, other times, if he was in a particularly petulant mood, he would blatantly follow you back into the living room.  Heiji, on the other hand? Kaito was convinced that he had never witnessed a true portrait of gluttony until he'd seen Heiji existing on 2 hours of sleep, working dutifully on a case while scarfing down literally anything and everything within his reach.

Kaito sighed, cracked his knuckles, and took the White Lightning from Saguru’s hands. He then dangled it in front of his face, slowly walking backward until he made it into their bedroom. Sitting Saguru on the bed, Kaito untucked the comforter and wrapped it around Saguru’s shaking shoulders. Finally, he handed him the coffee. Saguru looked at it, his eyelids drooping from the warmth of the comforter, and began to slump slowly to the left. Kaito took the drink again, smirking, and set it on the bedside table. Either Saguru would drink it cold in the morning like a trash-person or Kaito would inevitably drink it before bed.

Shinichi was a lot heavier than he looked and Heiji was more uncoordinated now than he was when he was drunk. Together, they slowly dragged Shinichi into their bedroom as well, and plopped him down next to Saguru, who curled around Shinichi in a sleepy haze. Heiji threw himself back on the bed and tried to take Kaito with him, but gloriously failed and just managed to rip Kaito’s shirt instead.

So here he was: shirtless, drinking way too many shots of espresso, and looking over case files like it was his actual job. Sometimes it just needed a bit of a creative eye, y’know? A touch of finesse to pull the suspects from the ever-increasing lines of interview dialogue, a bit of flair to find a witness that was looked over, or a magician’s hand to discover a picture that lay undisturbed at the back of a manilla folder. Starting from scratch, with nothing but two eyes and hot coffee, no preconceived ideas or theories, was sometimes all that a case needed. Not that his boys were dumb, far from it, they were probably a little too smart for their own good. They were, well, detectives and they thought like detectives . Kaito was, depending on who you asked, a magician or a thief. A magician and a thief.

It did take him a while, though, to find what they had missed. A small polaroid and a paper stuck to the back of casefile #37. Witness: Elidith Harney. An American tourist. She didn’t quite fit the timeline they had already established but Kaito was sure they wouldn’t mind backtracking a bit. He laid the file down and put a pink post-it note on it stating the new evidence and then signed it with a Kid doodle.

His three detectives lay in bed, Saguru still curled around Shinichi, and Heiji still fidgeting awake, snacking on some fig newtons that he’d apparently stashed somewhere in their bed. Heiji offered him some as he climbed under the covers and Kaito took two. They ate to the sounds of birds chirping outside and Saguru’s alarmingly loud snoring. Kaito finished his second fig newton as he watched the sun filter through the cracks in the drapes, with Heiji’s  arms wrapped securely around his torso.

Another case solved - another day done. All of the detectives wrangled and given some well-deserved and much-needed rest. Kaito settled down onto the pillow, adjusting Heiji’s arms as he turned to face him. He pressed a kiss on his cheek and took the rest of the fig newtons from him.

Saguru sighed as he rubbed his temples. This case was eating him alive. Three weeks and no lead, no clues, no sign of a witness or a suspect, nothing. There was a knock on his door, a soft knock—Shinichi—before it creaked open to reveal the barely-open eyes of his lover.

“It’s morning, babe, go to bed.” Shinichi said, closing the door. Saguru could hear the shuffling of Shinichi’s slippers going down the hallway to his own office. A smile crept over his features as he made his way out of his own office, down that same hallway, and into their bedroom. Kuroba was already curled up in bed, hogging all of the blankets. He sighed as he climbed into bed and tried to burrow himself under the covers surrounding Kuroba. He shifted a bit to let Saguru in.

“Late night?” Kaito mumbled, wrapping his arms around Saguru’s waist and pulling him closer.

“Of course,” Saguru replied, “I suppose you’ve been asleep for a while.” He kissed Kaito’s forehead. Kaito hummed in response, burying his head into Saguru’s chest,

“Shhhh, sleep.”

A loud crash from the kitchen startled both Kaito and Saguru awake and Saguru was suddenly aware of a warm arm draped over him, overlaying Kaito’s arm as well.

“Shinichi is trying to cook.” Kaito groaned as he disentangled himself from Saguru.  He slipped on a pair of lounge pants – clearly Saguru’s, as they were way too big for Kaito’s hips and pooled around his feet. Saguru moved to get up but was met with a hand on his chest, pushing him back down into the mattress.

“You finish sleeping. You know how you get when you’re sleep deprived. Plus, I think Heiji needs some company.” Kaito gave him a quick peck on the cheek before heading off to the kitchen, presumably to stop whatever atrocity was currently being cooked up by Shinichi.

It all baffled Saguru sometimes: his life now, how domestic they had become, how this crazy dream had become a reality, how well they worked together. How they’d gotten here—it was so far off now it felt like a dream. Part of him understood that they hadn’t always been like this, but it was just so damn hard to imagine the three of them not being an integral part of his life now.

By some stroke of luck, Heiji, Shinichi, Kaito, and he had all ended up at the same university. They had all studied together their first year, bouncing ideas off of each other. Even though not all of them had the same major or coursework, it was helpful. Sophomore year they had gotten an apartment together, for costs, they rationed. They all knew that was a lie, but that didn’t mean they’d admitted it. A large apartment: small bedrooms, one master bedroom, a living room, a kitchen, baths.

Unsurprisingly, Shinichi made the first move – on Heiji – that had been boiling even when Saguru had first met them. Saguru had bitten his tongue and bared the moderately loud moans coming from the master bedroom. He’d also bitten his tongue when he noticed Kuroba grow quieter as the weeks went on. He ignored it for about two weeks exactly before knocking on Kaito’s door in the middle of the night. There was light peeking out from under the door and Kaito had no reason to be up this late. The door cracked open, and Kaito, red-eyed and puffy-faced stood before him.

“Kaito,” Saguru whispered, his voice cracking halfway through, despite himself. He sounded pitiful. “What’s the matter?”

And that was how Kaito had ended up in Saguru’s bed, squeezing the life out of him and soaking the left shoulder of his nightshirt, explaining to him that he liked him, but he was confused because he also liked Shinichi…and Heiji. Saguru comforted him that night; he’d kissed his forehead and told him it was alright, that he felt the same way. But how would they tell the others? Heiji and Shinichi seemed content with what they had already. And Kuroba didn’t want to tell them, he didn’t want to burden what they had.

Saguru and Kaito had become lovers then, comforting each other, loving, settling. And they weren’t secretive about it, like Shinichi and Heiji tried to be. Both of them noticed the shift in the air then, the tense feeling permeating the apartment when they all ate together. It was Heiji that broke the silence this time.

“Ok. We’re all bein’ idiots. We gotta work whatever this is out.” Heiji sat them all down in the living room one fateful Tuesday.

“Work what out, Hattori?” Shinichi said, glaring up at Heiji, who glared back at him.

“Yer bein’ the most stupid. Quiet.” Heiji shushed, sitting down on the couch next to Shinichi, “Shinichi and I have been all jealous this whole time because y’all’ve been all over each other all the time.”

Saguru paused, he took the information in, turned it around in his mind, and almost snickered at him.

“And? Why?” He said. The words came out too bitter and he knew, but he refused to continue.

“And we’ve talked about it,” Heiji had a smile now, only to fall when Shinichi punched his arm, face a bright shade of red. “He likes both of you. I like both of you. We want to ask you if you’d join us.”

--

A while later, Saguru woke to Kaito patting his shoulder. Heiji had managed to nearly roll himself off the bed now, his head laying half on the mattress, half off. Saguru caught a fleeting smile on Kuroba’s lips.

“Dinner’s ready,” Kaito said, and Saguru took to the task of waking Heiji.

Spaghetti with Bolognese sat on the table, while little burnt bits of peppers sat discarded next to the stove. Shinichi sat at the dinner table, waiting for the rest of them, a sheepish smile on his face.  Heiji followed them in, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Shinichi,” Heiji yawned, “it smells like you burnt down the kitchen again.” Shinichi chuckled nervously and Kaito burst out laughing.

“He almost did!” Kaito said, “When I got out here he was dozing off on the table and the peppers he was trying to cook had sparks coming from them.” Shinichi blushed, wringing his hands together.

“You’re one to talk, Kaito. You nearly knocked down a load-bearing wall while trying to hang up a shelf.” Heiji snorted, pointing accusingly at Kaito with his fork. Kaito laughed along with him.

“I did do that, didn’t I? But I wasn’t the one who filled the laundry room with bubbles because he overfilled the washing machine and put an entire bottle of dish soap in.” Kaito countered and everyone looked at Saguru, fondly remembering the “Laundry Incident”.

“To be fair, I had never done laundry before. Baaya-san always did it for me.”

“How did you survive living alone freshman year?” Shinichi, who was now halfway done with his second plate, asked.

“I paid my neighbor $50 per week to do it for me.” Saguru answered, gracefully twirling spaghetti around his fork.

“’Guru…..no……no….” Kaito chuckled.

“Hey, Heiji would just let his laundry pile up until Shinichi got tired of it and put them in the wash,” Saguru retorted.

“That was more out of laziness than necessity, to be honest.” Heiji said.

“You did break our first bed though.” Shinichi was smirking now, and that sent Heiji into a full-on denial rant.

“That bed was unstable from the beginning! Also, it wasn’t just me! Saguru had a hand in it as well.” Heiji huffed. Kaito patted him on the leg and smiled.

“Unfortunately, no. Saguru and I were in England when that happened, if you remember. “ Kaito continued, clearing the now empty plates from the table and putting them in the sink.

“Fine, fine.” Heiji laughed, “You got me. I suppose that’s not the worst thing I could have done.”

It was Kaito and Heiji’s turn to do the dishes. They usually tried to avoid this – pairing Heiji and Kaito together and trying to have them do literally anything productive. But tonight seemed to be starting off in the right direction, so Shinichi and Saguru settled down on the couch with the television blaring the local news channel. Fingers intertwined, resting against each other, languidly watching the newscaster freak out over every small piece of news.

“How is Ran doing?” Saguru asked, shifting a bit to let Shinichi lay his head in Saguru’s lap.

“She’s well. She and Sonoko moved in together recently and they’re having all of the ‘living together for the first time’ quarrels. He grabbed Saguru’s hand and placed it on his own forehead, “All the silly little fights, y’know? Ran is going to defend her Master’s thesis soon and she’s pretty stressed about that but I know she’ll be fine.” He closed his eyes as Saguru ran his fingertips slowly through his hair.

“I agree, if anything she’s probably over-prepared, knowing Ran.” Saguru said and Shinichi smiled.

“She really worries too much. Always has. Any updates from your various step-siblings?”

“No, but my dad and step-mom are doing alright. From what I’ve heard from them—” A loud crash resounded from the kitchen, followed by the sound of water hitting the tile floor and a fit of giggling from the two in the kitchen. Saguru sighed and Shinichi kissed the palm of his hand.

“Do you think we should go figure out what they’re doing?” Saguru asked, resting his hand on the side of his lover’s face.

“No. They’ll be fine.” Shinichi said, snuggling into Saguru further. The buzz of the television, the leftover, lingering, smell of dinner, the warmth of each other, it was hard not to lose yourself in it, Saguru thought, his eyes drifting shut.

“—OH DEAR! BREAKING NEWS FOR ALL OF YOU KAITOU KID FANS OUT THERE,” The newscaster nearly shouted, “The thief has released a new riddle and here it is…” Saguru’s eyes fluttered open and he could feel Shinichi shift in his lap, as the newscaster read off the riddle and the day the heist would take place.

“Kuroba—“ Hakuba started,

“Kaito!” Shinichi finished. The laughter in the kitchen stopped.

“Yes?” Kaito called.

“Really? A heist on your birthday? Again???” Shinichi sighed. There was a pause, followed by a guilty, “Nooo.”

“Why?” Saguru asked, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Why not?” Kaito called.

“Why didn’t we get a heist note?” Shinichi asked.

“It’s on Heiji’s desk.”

“Of course it is.” Heiji groaned.

“And what’s with this riddle?” Shinichi said, brows furrowed, “It makes literally no sense.”

Kaito burst into the living room, hand on his chest like he’d just been mortally insulted.

“Excuse you. It’s poetic. Ingenious, even.” Kaito scoffed, plopping down onto the couch next to Shinichi’s feet.

Purgatory was always cold. Not chilly, no, cold. The type of cold that settles deep in your bones and rests there all night, leaving you worn and tired by morning and exhausted by night. Which, Dean supposed, wouldn’t really matter to the monsters that usually inhabited it. Benny didn’t know what he was talking about when he said it was cold, even lent Dean his jacket when he shivered through the nights because even though Benny couldn’t feel it, he believed him. Dean supposed that was really when he should have known he was screwed: accepting help from a vampire, wearing around his coat like a goddamn letterman jacket in high school as they moved through the never-ending forest where the wind was still and the fog consumed everything just out of reach. Even nights when Dean thought he could brave through the cold without it, he woke to find it draped over him.

Dean liked the warmth of the extra layer and he began to appreciate the way Benny’s button-up hugged his arms when he wielded his makeshift ax, and while Dean would sooner throw himself in a pit of gorilla-wolves unarmed than admit it out loud, he started to trust Benny. He shouldn’t, not after Cas, not after what he’d done to Sam, not after everything that happened. He shouldn’t trust anyone. Yet here he was, fighting back to back with a vampire, letting Benny watch over him while he slept, trusting him with everything he had in him. And to Benny’s credit, he hadn’t let Dean down yet, so he had that going for him.

Day 257 of Purgatory and Dean woke to find his head in Benny’s lap, his fingers carding softly through his hair. And Dean just went with it - enjoying physical closeness in a way that he hadn’t allowed himself in a long time. They stayed like that for a long time, silent in the unsettled calm of the forest, and Dean felt warm for the first time in months.

“I think you were havin’ a nightmare, chief.” Benny said, soft and quiet as he brushed his thumb over Dean’s forehead. Dean didn’t answer, letting himself settle back into sleep for as long as he could. He woke again to Benny’s jacket covering him, and Benny himself sharpening his ax nearby. Dean threw the jacket at him, and Benny smirked.

“Ready to go?” Dean coughed in an attempt to hide the blush tinting his cheeks, and Benny nodded, grabbing their supplies and heading off into the fog.