#ler!poe

Mushitarou studied himself in the mirror of the vanity dresser. Not a hair was out of place, but still, he decided he could do better than that. His comb slid through his hair for what must’ve been the thousandth time that night. He wouldn’t settle for less than perfect.

He wasn’t sitting at his own vanity set, taking up so much time. No, he sat in his partner, Poe’s seat, in front of his mirror, in his room.

And Poe, who watched him from the bed, didn’t mind at all. Anything of his was Mushitarou’s. That was the norm once Poe took him in for asylum a year prior. Since then, they discovered mutual feelings and made the living arrangement permanent. They’ve even been sleeping with each other. Both in the literal sense and in the adult way. 

In all their time together, Poe had gotten familiar with Mushitarou's pursuit of elegance. His attitude sometimes betrayed him, mostly around their mutual friend, Ranpo. Despite that, his appearance always portrayed classiness. His dedication to his looks was refreshing to see, as Poe often neglected his own. There was an almost humorous contrast between Mushitarou's hair and his.

Mushitarou wasn't using any gels or hairsprays this time. His only tool was his comb, which was why it took longer to get to his liking.

With Mushitarou even whipping a comb out during casual conversation, Poe saw this often. But still, this scene in particular always confused him, so he spoke up.

“Why do you do all that? We’re going to sleep.”

“That’s no excuse to look sloppy,” Mushitarou declared, rising from the seat at last. He smoothed his silken lapel pajamas as he stood. It was an expensive set that Poe gifted him the previous Christmas.

Poe was able to get a good look at him.

"Well, as always, you look like a doll," he smiled.

Mushitarou felt a stutter in his heart at the praise, which compelled him to climb in bed beside Poe. He turned off the bedside light, slipped under the covers, and curled into the other. They executed it smoothly, as if they rehearsed dozens of times. Poe wrapped his arms around him and settled a hand onto his side.

Poe continuously stroked a thumb over the skin above Mushitarou's hip; His shirt had ridden up and exposed it. He shivered under the feathery soft tickling. Although it seemed like an affectionate gesture, he adjusted to try and escape it. 

The stroking stopped as soon as Mushitarou expressed discomfort. Poe pulled the other’s shirt down to cover his skin. He assumed Mushitarou would want to do so. 

Mushitarou spent a good few moments wondering if Poe read deeper into his reaction. If he realized he was tickling him. If it was actually done on purpose. 

He soon found the mulling pointless, as the moment had already passed. He brushed it off and the two soon fell asleep.

---

The next night went as usual, with Mushitarou preparing for sleep like it was a formal occasion. Except this time, Poe stepped up and gently took the other’s hand in his, stopping the comb. 

“I think you’ve done enough tonight,” Poe said, “You look lovely.” 

“Thank you, but it’ll be more manageable in the morning if I’m thorough with it, so I’d like to continue.”

Poe hesitated, but spoke up once more.

“I’m all alone in bed.”

“Now you know how I feel when you work in your study so late into the night,” Mushitarou shot back with a cocky smirk.

“I always follow you back when you come looking for me, don’t I?”

Mushitarou paused. It was true. So he huffed in defeat and stood up, with Poe taking his comb and setting it on the dresser. His hand still in Poe’s, he led him back to their bed. They were soon snuggled up again.

After they settled in, Poe slid his hands into the back of Mushitarou’s shirt. His fingers traced over the skin of his back. Now alert, Mushitarou inhaled sharply and seized at the touch. 

"Oh, does that tickle?" Poe asked, stopping. But the answer was obvious. After all, he did discover Mushitarou’s ticklishness the day before. It was when Karl started crawling over his torso in an attempt to reach his shoulders. From personal experience, Poe knew all that squirming and grabbing tickled. He suppressed his reactions well enough, but nothing gets past the former detective. He noticed the slight smile and hitched breath.

Mushitarou didn’t know that he knew, though. For the sake of his dignity, it wasn’t something he wanted to have exposed, so…

Time to lie. 

“No. It just surprised me.”

“Oh, I see.” Poe humored him, knowing that wasn’t exactly the case. “Then, you won’t mind if I keep going?”

Poe moved his hands as if to begin again and Mushitarou tensed in anticipation. But no tickling followed; Poe faked him out. That reaction was already telling of his sensitivity, he gathered. As soon as Poe chuckled, he knew he couldn’t hide it. 

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Poe said, “I already know.”

Instead of continuing, like Mushitarou imagined Ranpo would have, Poe shifted his hands away from the area. He wrapped them around his shoulders instead. Mushitarou exhaled and curled closer into the other. Naturally, if there was anyone he could trust with this information, it was Poe.

---

The next night played out the same, with Poe begging Mushitarou to leave his nightly routine where it was and come to bed. Once he did, fingers flitted up his spine and made him shiver. Previously within Poe’s arms, Mushitarou broke out of his hold and sat up. The other followed.

“Okay, what’s the big idea?” Mushitarou probed, flustered, “Why do you keep doing that?”

Poe was already aware of the ticklish nature of the movements, so why does he continue?

“Do you like it?” Poe asked, simple and with a genuine curiosity. Despite every reaction suggesting the opposite, it couldn’t hurt to ask. 

“Don’t be absurd. Who actually likes that kind of thing?”

Silence. 

A long silence.

Brows knit, Mushitarou studied the other’s face only to find a sheepish expression. 

Does that mean…?

Poe must have sensed that the dots connected, because he continued the conversation to explain himself. “I’ve been working up the nerve to confess, but I couldn’t continue without testing the waters.”

He’d observed his reactions for a sign of enjoyment. He did his best not to push too many buttons or overstep any boundaries. If at any point Mushitarou expressed complete disdain for tickling, Poe wouldn’t pursue the matter further. But that never happened. 

Dumbstruck, Mushitarou tried to gather his thoughts. “So that’s what this is about? A fetish?”

This rendered Poe breathless and he couldn’t speak for a few moments.

He spluttered, “That was a big jump, it doesn’t have to be a fetish- Well, I guess it is for me sometimes, but… um.” 

Mushitarou waited for him to expand, but it didn’t happen. A tickle fetish, huh? It seemed very strange, but he reckoned there were stranger, more uncomfortable fetishes to have. Could he really do it, though? He needed to discuss it further. Sighing at Poe’s clamming up, he assumed he’d have to be the one to lead the conversation. 

“Let me get this straight. You intend to incorporate it into our sexual routine?”

Poe shakily breathed out, “I’d like that.” 

“But it doesn’t have to be about sex,” He hurriedly added, “I… like it by itself, too.”

Poe, who revealed something intimate and unconventional, and Mushitarou, who had a bomb dropped on him, both sat abashed. Mushitarou was in no hurry to respond while trying to soak up the information.

In no hurry at all.

“Forget I said anything,” Poe mumbled, preparing to turn away from him in the bed. 

“Hold on, hold on,” Mushitarou interjected without thinking. Why wasn’t he quick to dismiss the idea and play along with forgetting about it? 

Perhaps he hated to see Poe so embarrassed. Not to mention, disappointed. Poe had been so generous with him ever since he moved in. He couldn’t remember a time where someone else treated him as kindly. Meanwhile, Mushitarou did next to nothing for him in return. At least nothing that compared to the other’s gestures. He doesn’t know if he’ll even like this kind of thing, but he was willing to try. Just for Poe.

Poe looked back at him expectantly. Mushitarou hadn’t even had a plan for what to say next, so silence loomed for a while. Until he broke it.

“Just… nothing with feet, alright?”

Poe responded with a bright smile.

---

The next night was unprecedented. In lieu of his normal hair routine, Mushitarou sprawled over the bed. Poe hovered over him, seated between his legs. He'd unbuttoned his pajama top, exposing his chest and stomach.

Without a doubt, Mushitarou was nervous. The anticipation bled into his features, contorting his face. Poe didn’t miss the way he bit his lip. 

“Are you sure this is alright with you?” Poe asked, “We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Don’t make it more difficult,” Mushitarou exclaimed, feigning confidence. “I’ll be the one in control, yes? If I don’t like it, I’ll stop it.”

Poe nodded. He reassured beforehand that he’d act completely at Mushitarou’s discretion. He’d stop as soon as it was requested of him without getting upset.

“N-now, what should I do?” he asked. There was a slight waver in his voice.

“Just sit back,” Poe said in a calming tone, “Let me take care of it all.”

Like staring down the drop of a rollercoaster, Mushitarou felt a tightness in his throat. 

Poe decided to start light, in the same fashion as the past few nights. He ghosted his nails over the other’s neck, trailing them down. Mushitarou inhaled sharply at the first moment of contact. After a slight, surprising graze to his underarms on the way down, the fingers ended up over his stomach. They began spidering and Mushitarou felt a tickling sensation just under his skin.

“Gh-!” Mushitarou choked, slamming a hand over his mouth. He was not used to this. At all. 

Poe withdrew, huffing with a smile. He took hold of Mushitarou’s wrist, separating the other’s hand and mouth with great care. Pinning it beside him in a loose grip, Poe leaned further in, brushing his bangs away to lock eyes properly. 

“You can laugh, my love. I want to hear it.”

Mushitarou froze. He seldom saw Poe’s eyes. A single one could be spotted if he was lucky, but almost never both. Now, here they are looking back at him with such softness. And such intent. Is he really that into this? Unbelievable…!

Mushitarou turned his face toward the bedding in an attempt to hide how red it was becoming. Poe doesn’t know how embarrassing he is. Or he does and just loves the reaction he’s getting. Either way, screw him! Mushitarou only wanted to sink further into the bed.

“I think this could be good for you. You’re always so uptight.”

Mushitarou often admonished childish behavior, jovial behavior. And, to preserve his dignity, never acted in such a way himself. Laughter wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about. Letting loose wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about. Deep down, Poe wanted to show that to him.

Using his free hand, Poe pinched along his ribs to test the waters. Mushitarou bucked his hips with a yelp. With this, Poe wasted no time in cupping his ribs with relaxed squeezes. Despite how gentle…

“Edga- Agh!” 

Mushitarou, aside from the occasional whimpering of Poe’s name, only responded with shaky inhales and wheezes. 

“Do you like it here?” Poe’s hand drifted down to squeeze his sides. Mushitarou gasped, bunching the sheets underneath his free hand. Unbeknownst to Poe, his squeezes became firmer. If he’d been aware, he would have toned it down, so it wouldn’t be so overwhelming. Unfortunately for Mushitarou, that was not the case. Poe needed to place more effort into restraining the other’s arm. 

“How about here?” Poe placed his fingers atop Mushitarou’s stomach again and prodded deep into it. “Does that feel good?”

Mushitarou's heart dropped. He lurched forward with a noise akin to a snort before his head slammed back against the pillow. The writhing had turned his hair, which he put so much effort into maintaining, into a mess. 

“Wha- ha! Hngh!” That was all he could manage in response.

What did he say? Mushitarou asked himself, trying to pull a coherent thought together in the midst of the sensations.  Does it feel good? What a ridiculous question!

Still, the blush spread further on Mushitarou’s face while he mulled over the answer. Another sudden electric shock to his ribs pulled his attention. He’d already been feeling quite hot. His lips pursed, but something threatened to spill out.

Mushitarou was giving him anything but laughter, Poe observed. He wondered if this was the other’s way of trying to keep his composure. However, with each cry, Mushitarou’s body convulsed. He teetered from side to side, in a half-hearted attempt to roll over. This kind of behavior was anything but composed. Even so, his ability to suppress his giggles was impressive. Would it be wrong of Poe to try and draw out a more hysterical laugh?

Poe’s attack slowed and he smoothed his hands over Mushitarou’s shoulders, as if to wind him down. Mushitarou relaxed against the touch, almost breathing a sigh of relief. 

“You’re quite resilient,” Poe chimed with a smile, “For someone this sensitive, that is-”

“Yes, yes,” Mushitarou interrupted on purpose, sitting up, “Are we finished here?”

“Only if you decide you’ve had enough.” Poe retracted his hands, so Mushitarou could feel he was the one in control. 

“So you- you intend to continue if I don’t say otherwise?”

“Well, yes… I haven’t yet heard your laugh.” 

“That again?” Mushitarou’s brow furrowed. “That’s… That’s not my fault, you know. You go too slowly.”

“Oh, I see,” Poe smiled, “Is this an invitation to speed up?”

Mushitarou, flustered, fumbled over his words. “Invi- huh!? No, I- well…”

Poe, remaining patient, only waited for a proper answer. At last, Mushitarou groaned, leaning into the other’s shoulder.

“You’re trying to kill me, even though it’s my first time,” he grumbled, speech muffled. 

“Be grateful Ranpo isn’t in my position right now,” Poe smiled, patting his back. “You don’t even get a chance to breathe. Though, I do enjoy it.”

In his head, Mushitarou shuddered. Being at Ranpo’s mercy like that sounds horrendous. It was unbelievable to him that Poe could stomach that treatment, let alone enjoy it. Yes, thinking about it with objectivity, he’d much rather have Poe in this position.

Poe collected the other’s hand, reclaiming his focus. He lifted the back of his hand to his lips.

“I’ll only continue with your permission,” Poe said, lips brushing against the skin, “Your comfort comes first.”

Poe pressed a kiss onto his hand to conclude the statement and Mushitarou felt dizzy for a brief moment. As always, he was grateful for such a considerate partner, and a trustworthy one. If he could trust Poe not to go overboard, it’d be alright to continue indulging in his… interest.

“Continue, then,” Mushitarou replied at last, his voice just above a whisper.

“As you wish,” Poe smiled, helping the other settle onto his back once more. He looked a bit too satisfied, Mushitarou thought. “If you want to stop or make adjustments at any point, please let me know.”

Mushitarou only nodded, eyes squeezed shut in anticipation.

Poe trailed his fingers down the length of the other’s stomach, relishing the way his muscles contracted under the touch. It was gentle. He didn’t want to send him into a panic as soon as they began again. 

Gradually, yet all too soon for Mushitarou, those fingers dug deeper in. They sped up, dancing over his torso, teasing him. And using both hands made it much worse than their little test drive earlier. Mushitarou lost his breath with a single wheeze, before trying to regain it among a series of whimpers.

It was enough for Mushitarou to, without thinking, shoot his hands down to protect himself. Poe was expecting this response sooner or later. Still, it was quite impressive that he could act against such an instinct for this long! 

Wherever on his torso Poe attacked, it wouldn’t last long, as he would fend off the touch just as quickly. The corners of Poe’s lips turned up in amusement. Red-faced, squeaking, pawing at his hands to keep them from tickling. Was Mushitarou aware of just how silly his desperate attempts at protection made him look? 

“Mushitarou, dear,” Poe sang, “I can’t continue like this.”

“C-can’t help it,” Mushitarou muttered, eyes averted. 

Poe shifted a hand to Mushitarou’s knee, rubbing up and down the length of his thigh.

“Would you be so kind as to move your arms? Please~?” Poe pleaded in a dulcet tone, making the other’s heart stutter.

Mushitarou groaned inwardly, having to make an impossible decision. Fighting to keep his arms up seemed intolerable, but if he didn’t move them now, Poe couldn’t have the session he wanted. Agh, why couldn’t Poe just work around it!? He could do that, right?

Poe continued rubbing his thigh, as if to coax him. He almost shivered at the contact. They couldn’t progress like this. Not until Mushitarou steeled himself and revealed his torso for his boyfriend. The things he does to repay Poe’s kindness… Well, it’s not like he’ll ever regret doing that.

Mushitarou, reluctant, eased his arms away from his stomach. His hands rested beside him once more. Waiting with bated breath, he twisted the sheets between his fingers. 

“Such a good boy,” Poe spoke low, smiling, “Thank you.”

Poe lowered his head until his nose was hovering just above the other’s stomach. He lingered there, giving Mushitarou an opportunity to reject what was coming next. Because he heard no objection, he continued.

Kisses were peppered all over Mushitarou’s stomach. Although it did tickle, it wasn’t so intense. It deepened the blush he wore on his face, sending tingles up his spine. Still, it was bearable. Relievingly so. He even sighed, relaxing his grip on the sheets. It was kind of nice, he thought.

That was until two hands latched onto his sides and massaged thumbs deep into each side of his stomach. Simple, but effective. 

“Wha!?” Mushitarou yelped, tensing up once more. His yelps dissolved into panicked whines. “Wh- Hah!!” 

He shouldn’t have let his guard down!

Poe’s face remained buried into Mushitarou’s stomach, nuzzling and kissing. This, in tandem with wiggling fingers, made Mushitarou feel like his soul was escaping from his mouth. It all looked like a predator attacking its helpless prey. He was eating him up.

Mushitarou, acting on instinct again, moved his hands onto Poe’s head with a plan to force it off. But still, once they landed, he’d controlled himself. Instead, his fingers twisted into Poe’s thick, unruly hair and remained there. They even trembled. This didn’t seem to bother the other in the slightest, and his mouth continued working on his stomach. 

This continued for quite a while, though Mushitarou wasn’t in the right frame of mind to recall specifics. A few seconds, minutes, whatever. It all ran together. His mind grew fuzzier. All he could focus on were the electric sensations invading his body. He even disregarded the drool spilling down the side of his face; It was a display he would not be okay with if he were fully cognizant.

“You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart,” Poe mumbled against the other’s skin. It didn’t matter to him if Mushitarou could process or even hear the praise, he just needed to say it. The slight movement of his lips tickled a bit. 

Still breathing Mushitarou in, Poe’s hands trailed down to the thighs on either side of him. They latched onto the inner sections. 

And squeezed.

Mushitarou, who had already been wailing, screamed. Poe lifted his head to watch Mushitarou, now alert. He hummed in satisfaction and the other just knew he was scheming.

“It seems I’ve found the sweet spot~!” Poe accentuated the statement with rapid kneading at the newfound weak point. The other’s legs spasmed at the contact.

Mushitarou’s hands were still gripping Poe’s hair. The kneading continued, so he began to push him away. It did very well in putting distance between him and Poe’s face! Unfortunately, it did nothing to separate the hands from his thighs. 

At last, Mushitarou bubbled into laughter. Well, it didn’t resemble laughter as much as frantic sobs. In truth, if Poe had to describe it, it sounded more like crying. He knew that crying with laughter was very much a thing. Still, the line between laughter and genuine cries of distress in this situation was often blurred.

Poe’s kneading slowed until it came to a complete stop. As such, Mushitarou’s breathing evened out. His face was still red.

“Is everything alright?” Poe asked, concern lacing his voice.

“Huh? What?” Mushitarou managed while trying to regain his breath, “What is it?”

He was in a daze, to say the least. He’d already prepared himself for way more, but it stopped on a dime.

“You sounded upset. Are you perhaps overwhelmed?”

Overwhelmed? 

“I was handling it just fine,” Mushitarou scoffed, offended.

“Yes, clearly you can handle it, I just wanted to check is all,” Poe clarified in a sheepish tone, “I couldn’t tell if you were crying.”

Mushitarou’s brows furrowed at that last statement. Poe’s efforts were all to draw out his laughter and that’s what he gives him? 

His thoughts wandered back to Ranpo. The detective’s laugh was always so bright, cheery. That kind of laughter charmed Poe, he knew. If Ranpo were in his place, he’d give him the perfect response. Meanwhile, his own “laughter” sounded so heavy and burdened. Like crying.

“Do you not like my laugh?” 

Poe could detect a small waver in Mushitarou’s voice.

“No, no- Don’t misunderstand,” Poe tried to reassure him, “It wasn’t what I was expecting by any means, but it’s not bad.”

Not bad. AKA not good either. Mushitarou scowled as he sat up, scooting away from Poe. Heat rose in him again, from shame instead. This was exactly why he held himself back, even with Poe’s encouragement. This kind of thing could only spell out one thing for him: humiliation.

Poe faltered. It wasn’t uncommon for Mushitarou to get in his own head like this, but he didn't expect to comfort him here.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Poe said, “You’ve finally stopped holding your laughter back. How it sounds doesn’t matter to me.”

“Is it… really okay with you?” Mushitarou asked, his body language still quite flat. He wasn’t convinced.

“Of course.” Poe’s eyes softened. He pressed forward, driving Mushitarou back against the bed frame. “Truly, you’ve been giving me perfect reactions this whole time, even without your laughter…”

He brought his hands back to Mushitarou’s torso, feeling him tense up.

“Because…”

He drew light, fleeting circles on the other’s skin with his fingers. 

“I can tell that you’re very, very ticklish.”

Mushitarou felt his heart catch in his throat and he didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or excitement.

Poe leaned further in, “I’ve got a few more minutes in me if you do.” 

Their eyes met again. Speechless, Mushitarou only nodded without much thought. He hadn’t even stopped to consider if he liked the feeling. There was just something about Poe that turned him into putty. 

They repositioned themselves, with Poe easing his partner onto his lap. Settling in, Mushitarou looped his arms around Poe’s neck. His legs wrapped around him, as well, encasing him.

Poe snaked his hands between their bodies, wiggling his slender fingers at the other’s lower ribs. Mushitarou squeaked as he tried to arch away from the invading hands. Still, his own arms betrayed him; They seized up around Poe’s neck, locking him in place. 

Poe’s hands explored further, scribbling away in different directions. His left traveled to the area below his underarm, his right trailed down to massage into a thigh once again. 

Mushitarou writhed on Poe’s lap conflicted, unable to decide which stimulus to respond to. If he twisted away from the left hand, Poe would work harder on his thigh. If he twisted away from the right, Poe would work harder on his ribs. His recoiling would only send him back into the hand he tried to escape. Poe’s skill was unsettling.

The indecision sent Mushitarou sobbing with laughter into Poe’s shoulder. The hold around his partner’s neck tightened, as if to restrain himself further. Poe thought to discourage him from muffling his reactions, but figured he should do what he’s most comfortable with now. He deserved it for being such a trooper!

“Oh, my poor Mushitarou,” Poe cried in exaggerated woe, “He’s so sensitive!”

“Shh- Shut-!'' Mushitarou began, but Poe dug his thumbs into the hollows of his underarms. He cut himself off with a screech before he could continue. 

“I’m sorry, what were you going to say, my love?”

Forced out among the wheezes, “Y-you did tha-at on purpose !” 

Poe dismissed it with a hum. According to his personal logic, it was alright since he’d forgive him anyway! Twisted logic, but it was correct here.

Mushitarou’s arms grew weak around the other’s shoulders, thinking to slip them down over the attacking hands. Instead, his face pushed deeper into the crook of Poe’s neck with high-pitched, panicking whines.

Feeling him press closer, Poe stopped tickling and wrapped him in a hug. Mushitarou pulled his face away, with the shadow of an idea that the session ended. The embrace grew firmer, however. And the fingers at the backside of his ribs resumed tickling. 

Startled, Mushitarou arched his back, away from the touch. He erupted in broken sobs that bordered on laughter. Tickle hugs were an evil tactic. He’d once witnessed, from a crowd, Ranpo pulling it on an officer. It was a childish move, an embarrassing move. He pitied that officer, and now Poe was using it against him! It was so amusing, he could laugh... Oh, wait.

With Mushitarou arched into the other, it only pressed them closer together and allowed for a tighter grip. Poe appreciated that, observing how often your own body can betray you when tickled. 

Mushitarou cried openly now with his head thrown back. Poe could see the full effect it was having on him. Tears streamed down his blushing face. His brows were knit together, eyes completely shut. The corners of his lips, turned up, sported streams of saliva. He looked quite undignified.

Perfect. It was absolutely perfect. 

Poe brought one of his hands up to cup the back of Mushitarou’s head while the other continued working. He guided their faces closer together and sealed their lips together in a kiss. Mushitarou had no problem with this, but it gagged him. He breathed unsteadily through his nose until he squealed into the kiss. Poe drank his reactions up, savoring each noise as they reached his ears.

The other hand tickling at Mushitarou’s back slowed to a stop, while the kiss remained.

When they separated a few seconds later, Poe swept a few stray hairs from Mushitarou’s face. He knew he’d want to fix his hair as soon as possible. A few seconds passed by in silence. With that, the session indeed ended.

Mushitarou exhaled, falling onto his back. He wiped the various fluids on his face away with his sleeve, then pressed the back of his hand to his forehead in true drama queen fashion. 

“I hope you’re satisfied now that you’ve put me through the wringer,” Mushitarou said, without any bite.

Poe giggled, settling in on Mushitarou’s side.

“Very. Thank you for indulging me.”

Mushitarou hummed half-heartedly. It goes without saying it was worth it to him.

Poe continued, “And for letting me see a side of you that you don't allow anyone else to see.”

A few times in the past, Ranpo attempted to ruffle Mushitarou’s hair and he’d respond with an ear-splitting warning to stop. “Keep your hands off my hair!” he’d shout each time, “There’s no excuse!” 

But now, he wore mussed hair. More than that, his silken pajamas hung haphazardly off his shoulders. A sleeve was damp after wiping off his face. The sheen of drool still drying reflected on his chin and his face was flushed from the crying. Mushitarou’s assertiveness, his elegance, they were both shattered by a few minutes of mischievous hands. Poe was grateful to be able to see such a sight.

"I'm surprised you haven't gone to freshen up yet," Poe said.

"You've gone and tired me out," Mushitarou sighed, "I don't care anymore."

"Even in such a frenzied state, you looked ravishing. It’s just what I was looking for" 

Mushitarou cracked a smile. For a wallflower, Poe could be quite the charmer.

“Of course you'd think that. Seriously, I would never let another man turn me into this . Especially not the way you did.”

“I’m honored,” Poe grinned. “But… did you not like it?”

Poe prepared himself to never get another chance at it again. That was fine. Doing it even once was more than he ever expected. 

“I’m not sure.”

A fair response, Poe thought. Even among people who enjoy it, many share a love/hate relationship with the activity. 

Mushitarou hadn’t even had a chance to consider how he felt. Still, he never found himself asking for it to stop. If he allowed himself to get so lost in the feeling, perhaps he did like it. Or at least didn’t dislike it. 

“Why do you like it?” he asked. Maybe he could get a better grasp on his feelings if he listens to a different perspective.

It was Poe’s turn to feel heat rush to his face. 

“It can be a bit torturous, but I find myself… enjoying that. It’s a sweet sting. Like electrocution, only without the pain.”

“Am I dating a masochist?”

Poe chuckled. “It does kind of sound like that, I can’t argue. But imagining you feeling the same thing had me indecently excited.”

A sweet sting, huh?

“I never would’ve expected something so perverted from you… but,” Mushitarou averted his gaze. “I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Just for you. Maybe I’ll decide how I feel then.”

“That sounds lovely.”

They huddled closer together in the bed, with Mushitarou tucking his head under Poe’s chin.

“I really do adore you,” Poe whispered, tightening his embrace on the other.

Mushitarou buried his face further into Poe’s chest, a silent declaration that he returned the sentiment. Soon, he felt fingers trailing up and down the bare skin of his back. The same feathery soft tickling from before, lulling him to sleep. 

“I didn't mean your ‘work’,” Edgar huffed out a quiet laugh, stepping into the room and leaning over the other's shoulder, trying to take a look at his face, “I know you're thinking about it again. Go easier on yourself, dear”.

Edogawa furrowed his eyebrows slightly, turning his head away from him.

“Questioning your own worth after all, I see...” Poe hummed, a little bit sadly, “You want to talk about it once more? You know, I'm always here and my ears are ready to listen.”

The younger male kept looking away, going silent for a few seconds.

“It's... all the same,” he finally sighed, “There's nothing to talk about. Maybe you're right. I guess I'm just... a little bit too tired. Maybe”.

“I just want you to know that... having troubles with solving the case when you're not feeling like it doesn't make you look worse as a person. It doesn't make you look worse in any way,” Edgar spoke in a soft voice, gently hugging Ranpo from behind, “To me, to Fukuzawa, to the whole Agency - you are the most important person. Important in many ways”.

Feeling the younger male relax a little in his embrace, Poe smiled reassuringly. But he also wanted to see the detective's face now.

“Ran, just why can't you accept the fact that solving the case for a little bit longer than 15 seconds is absolutely okay, when you also don't have the-”

“I hahave my ability!” the detective really tried to sound serious, but...

“...Sure you do, giggles,” Edgar whispered with a smile, leaning a tiny bit closer to his partner's right ear on purpose, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“O-of course I- stahahap it!..” Ranpo squeaked, biting back a smile and trying to scrunch up his shoulders.

“Hm? Stop what? You don't want me to talk about how perfect you are on your own?” Poe's little smile became wider as soon as he saw Edogawa's ears turn an adorable shade of red.

“Yehehes..!” giggling quietly, the young detective managed to wriggle free from his partner's warm embrace and get up from his chair, covering his ear with his hand, his face flushed pink already.

“Ah, no-no-no, darling, not this time,” Edgar shook his head and came closer, chuckling softly and pulling Ranpo back by his waist with ease, being really gentle and using very little strength, “For someone who doesn't want it to happen, you sure don't look like you're running away...”

“Wehell, if yohou lehet mehe go, I wihill- WAHAHA– DOHON'T YOU DAHAHARE!..” Edogawa squealed loudly, feeling the familiar hands starting to squeeze his sides. This distraction was enough for his boyfriend to make them both fall on the bed, Poe laying comfortably on top of the detective and looking directly into his eyes, his smile wide.

“You know, I always say that I'm ready to listen, but I think that this certain someone we have here needs to learn how to listen, too”.

“Noho, oh nohoho!” Ranpo tittered, trying to shove at the writer's head half-heartedly, “Gehet off of mehehe! Thahat's a crime against peherson! Ahand thahat person is your bohoyfriend!..”

“I'll make sure to buy the biggest cake to make it up to you, little sugar cube,” the writer couldn't help but be amused at how his partner's blush instantly deepened at the nickname, “Sorry, but for now this big and scary criminal only wants to hear these sweet giggles of yours!”

“Ohoh shuhuhush...” Ranpo let out a giggly whine, covering his face with his hands.

“So there is something I'd like to talk about...”

“Dohohon't tahalk to mehehe!..”

“...about how hardworking...”

His breath tickling Ranpo's ear.

“...how talented...”

Now his neck... Oh no, oh no...

“...and how beautiful you are”.

The detective couldn't help but burst into squeaky giggles as soon as he felt his burning sensitive ear being peppered with kisses.

“Ihi'm nahahat..!” he squealed, kicking his legs out slightly and trying to scrunch up his shoulders, but it was far from enough to stop or even bother the novelist, “Stahahap it!”

“What, can't handle the truth? Are my words a little bit too sweet for you, dear?” Poe giggled along with his partner, blowing on his red little ear.

“Tohooth-rotting!” the younger shot back, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head at the sensation as he wiggled under the writer like a worm.

“Oh shush, don't be like that, I know we're both loving it,” the older male pouted jokingly, pinching at his boyfriend's sides to make him yelp cutely, ”You work an awful lot, but, even when you're feeling burnt out, who said that you should forget about what a great and smart detective you are? You know, you don't hahave to sue people every day to prove it!”

“S-stahap tahalking alreheady..!” Ranpo didn't even bother to try and argue anymore as he threw his head back, squealing like a child, his hair messy from all that squirming, his face and ears bright red from laughing, compliments and Poe's small amused chuckles ringing pleasantly in his head. The latter looked up once again, quietly admiring the detective's features and feeling his own face become a little bit pink.

“...Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he suddenly asked, stopping all the tickles. The raven haired male raised his head, looking surprised by the question (and even more flustered now, which made Poe huff out another little laugh).

Ranpo looked in his partner's eyes which were half-hidden by his hair, looking at him happily; his sincere smile, which was full of love and support, and he just- couldn't- Did he even deserve someone like Poe..?

“I'm... Poe, I'm juhust-” the detective stuttered, now avoiding eye contact.

“No-no-no,” the older male cut him off softly, leaning in forward and making their foreheads touch, “I know what you're thinking about. For once, just for this once, I want these thoughts to stop running around in this little head of yours. Just look at me, just let go and laugh... Do you trust me with this, dear?”

Ranpo was silent for a few seconds, but eventually lay his head back down on the pillow, blushing like mad and retracting his hands from the novelist's shoulders:

“...Okay. Just for a little bit, though”.

“You can hold onto me if you want,” the latter smiled sweetly at him.

The younger male thought for another moment, and his hands awkwardly returned to where they were a few seconds ago.

“Well, come here, then,” his partner laughed, lowering his head once again-

“I sAHAid yohou cahan tihickle me, but I didn't sahay you cohould tOHOuch my ehears!..” suddenly, Ranpo's high-pitched giggling filled the room. Nobody was even touching him yet!

“No?” Poe tilted his head slightly, as if he was surprised, “But how are we going to continue our conversation?”

“Noho mohore tahalking abohout mehe, thehen!”

“But that's the whole purpose!”

“Nohoho!”

The writer always considered funny the fact that his partner wasn't able to take any kind of compliments if tickling was involved. This knowledge made Poe a little bit braver in situations like this, but the detective always made sure to get him back (usually, tenfold, but we don't talk about that).

“Oh... Maybe your neck, then?”

“Noho, I'm waharning- pleHEEHEEase..!” Ranpo's shriek quickly dissolved into shrill giggling and his fingers softly squeezed the novelist's shoulders, as soon as his boyfriend tried to blow a tiny, shy raspberry on the side of his neck. Poe just couldn't tickle him roughly or even all that confidently, because, the moment he heard the detective's laughter or saw his smile, it was impossible to really concentrate because of this tingly feeling in his chest.

A couple of small raspberries was soon followed by the avalanche of neck kisses, which made Ranpo want to curl up into himself and squeal eternally. All of this was too much, his face was going to explode...

“Okay, ohokay, you said just a little bit, so there's just a few more things we need to do,” the novelist stopped to give his partner a little break.

“Ohoh gohohod...” the detective tittered, covering his flushed face with his hands and trying to calm down.

But, to be honest... with his non-stop giggling, with all this warmth, with this feeling of safety and belonging... Ranpo couldn't even really tell why he was so upset just a few minutes ago. His partner was one of the few people he could show this side of himself to, and Poe was the only one who always knows what exactly to do to help him feel better...

“...Ihit's nohot fahair,” the younger male let out a sarcastic, giggly groan, ”You nehever lehet me be like these cohold, mysterious dehetectives in moHOVIES–”

He flinched suddenly, but didn't even say anything in protest when he felt these familiar fingers starting to move down his ribs with tiny, gentle pokes, making Edogawa melt further into the bed in his quiet, muffled, high-pitched childlike chuckles.

“Nonono, no Mr. Gloomy Ran-Ran in this office, not on my watch!” Poe grinned playfully, slowly lifting the other's shirt up and revealing Ranpo's quivering tummy, “Are we ready, oh my Greatest-and-the-Most-Ticklish-detective in the world?”

“Wh-whahat are yohou- nOHo-! Noho kisses! I waHAsn't reHEHEADY-!..”

A/N: It's not perfect and probably ooc as hell, but I WANTED THE FLOOF WITH THESE TWO AT 3 AM AND DAMN I'M NOT GONNA REREAD THIS AFTER PUBLISHING, I'M SCARED-