ᴅᴀʏʟɪɢʜᴛ || ʀᴀɴᴘᴏᴇ

• 15 •

"God this hang over will be the death of me." Ranpo groaned, sitting upright in the bed. He held his head in his hand and glanced around the room. It wasn't his, there were no abstract paintings, but rather they were replaced with intricate designs by famous artists. The walls were a wine red, and the sheets he was under were a royal purple and made of silk. The mattress was soft and the pillows were filled with goose feathers.

His eyes widened as he slowly swivelled his head to his right, and saw a (presumably naked, as he was too) man fast asleep, light snores emitting from his throat. Oh no.

The man stirred and brushed his ginger hair out of his face, and snorted as he awakened. He rubbed his eyes and the two stared at each other in deafening silence. Chuuya was the one to break it.

"What. The. Fuck!" He yelled, dragging the duvet further up his body to shield his bare chest, and simultaneously shoving Ranpo out of the bed and onto the floor with a kick. Ranpo grunted at the impact and quickly found his scattered clothes and tried his best to put them on with unmatched speed.

"We never speak of this again, especially to Dazai." Ranpo said, grabbing his shoes.

"Well obviously! He'd kill you!"

"I know! That's why we will not mention this to him!" At least the two agreed to keep it quiet, and as far as Ranpo was concerned, Dazai never found out. Ranpo raced out of the door to begin the walk (or run) of shame.

Chuuya picked the couple up in his Land Rover, Dazai already in the front and fiddling with the Spotify music on Chuuya's phone.

"That's a big car." Edgar commented as the pair approached the car.

"Yeah, do you think he's compensating for something?" Ranpo giggled, and Edgar shook his head disapprovingly. They slid into the back seats and buckled their seat belts. Dazai turned around so he could see the two better and had a mischievous grin on his face.

"Are you guys ready for forty minutes of the best bops you've ever heard?" Chuuya snatched the phone off his boyfriend and threw it towards Ranpo.

"Ranpo knows better music than you. He's in charge."

"How the hell do you know that?" Dazai asked, a frown on his face. The whole car went quiet, the ginger froze and even the engine went silent. He cussed under his breath as he started the car up again.

"We were listening to music on the way back from the DOA mission, I've got great taste." Ranpo rapidly blurted, Edgar was even more confused.

"No we weren't-"

"Yes, we were. You were just out of it from your supper."

"How did Fukuchi taste by the way?" Chuuya inquired, stepping a little too hard on the accelerator, gripping the steering wheel hard.

"Wait I wasn't finished with my interrogation-"

"He sounds like he'd taste like pork." Ranpo interrupted, and Edgar made a funny face.

"He tasted like metal, like all humans do. Chuuya, you should know this."

"Well I haven't eaten an old man in a while, he might've tasted a bit expired." The three laughed, and Dazai's frown deepened. He was staring at Chuuya, who was avoiding all eye contact. He narrowed his eyes like he was trying to read his unfamiliar expression. Ranpo could see the cogs in his brain turning. Eventually, his hardened glare softened and a devious smirk played on his lips.

"Chuuya, you should have told me! I could've joined." Dazai sighed dramatically and Chuuya almost crashed the vehicle. The car beside them honked and Chuuya mouthed an apology to the driver.