Shinkai Oneshots

Touch Sensitive

edit: this is a smutty oneshot, enjoy!

Kuroba Kaito has always been very sensitive to touch, that was no secret. If you were to actively watch the brunet then you could often see him shift and twitch, just to jerk or tremble slightly afterwards. Sometimes you could even be able to see his pokerface crumble, flushed expressions of embarrassment, shame and pleasure flickering in and out of life. Though they do get covered up by the rebuild pokerface quite quickly.

It's normal for magicians to have their gadgets and animal friends close to their body at all times, but for Kaito it is more often than not a kind of mistake. His lovely doves learnt to keep still, camoflaging so that they won't be noticed by the audience. There are days when that isn't as easy to be accomplished though. As soon as the young magician gets agitated or moody, his friends do react to consolate and comfort him. But that is hard to do without accidently triggering his sensitivity.

That has also happened at this day's heist. Much to Kaito's dismay, he has put himself in the most embarrassing situation he has ever had. Not only as KID, but in all his life.

The phantom thief jumped, knocking his favorite critic and crush to the ground and getting his cape being shot at. It was to far away for it to be Snake, so it had to have been a sniper. Kaito doesn't know if he himself was the target or the detective under him. What the teen does know, though, was that he was mad and worried, his emotional fluctuations making the doves cuddle up to him, their feathers, beaks and feet moving against his sensitive skin.

KID couldn't help it, his arms that were planted at both sides of the other's head started to shake, his body trembling with the touches, pecks and scratches. His face is slightly flushed as he tries to cover it up, surpressing the heat from painting his face to vibrantly. He bites his lower lip to keep any sound inside, thanking lady luck as his friends soon stop moving.

The detective, the shrunken Kudo Shinichi, under him notices his weird behaviour, scrunching up his brows as he closes his tranquilizer watch again. Is the thief sick? He is trembling, flushed, out of breath and his eyes, at least what the other could see of them, look to be clouded, pupils dilated. Conan is honestly worried for the gentleman criminal. KID saved his life from a bullet, despite seeming to be sick.

"KID? What's wrong?" He asks, not moving at first, but as he only got a shaky exhale from the thief he moves his hands, one on the slightly heated cheek and the other on the covered forehead. Only slightly higher temperature. The hand on the forehand moves to the neck as he feels for the pulse, surprised by not only the way it's beating quite fast, but also by the pressure on his other hand.

The thief really leans into the touch of the boy's small palms, his eyes slowly closing as more shaky breaths were taken. "Did something happen? Are you sick?" Edogawa Conan asks, his normally stinging tone gone, replaced by something worried, but relatively neutral. Kaito raises one hand from the ground, just to snap his fingers and envelopping the both of them in smoke. When it dissipates the moonlight magician sits against the railing like stone wall, his doves sitting ontop of the railing.

Still, he's breathing rather shakily and it sounds strained. Never has Shinichi seen him like that, his pokerface is already cracked, but not gone just yet. "Sorry, Tantei-kun...that you have to see me like this." The guy sounds so defeated, it's worrysome. "Wait, did you get shot by that bullet?!" That was the only thing that came to the detective's mind, running to stand infront of him.

Kaito KID is still trembling, even though it's not as much as before, but the way his normally cocky attitude isn't returning is worth getting suspicious and worried. As he checks for any red and/or ripped spots on the suit, he can say that there are no wounds, but something is wrong. The shrunken teen notices how the phantom bites his lips again, drawing shaky breaths and how his hands fiddle with hem of his white tuxedo, always pulling it further down with twitchy hands.