Chapter Text
Ren's had no idea why Kirijo insisted that he take the current job -- bodyguarding a man named Naito Yoshito during the opening of the newly-opened People And Us exhibition in Manhattan, USA. A collaborative museum exhibition between the States and Japan, celebrating decades of friendship. Kirijo had asked him about the job as a personal favor, so he was present as a representative of the Kirijo Group, military investments and not of the Kirijo Group, shadow operatives.
It was overall a boring affair and something any of the operatives contracted under Kirijo could've taken over for some easy cash, and not a persona user. Stop complaining so much, dear, Arsene huffed, near and dear to Ren's heart as always. At least we got an all-expenses-paid flight to Manhattan.
You don't even like America, pigeon, Ren retorted, before schooling his expression into something neutral and boring when his ward glanced over. Naito Yoshito had received some threatening letters before departing, many people back home not a fan of his political inclinations, so he'd demanded a security detail from the infamously neutral Kirijo Group.
An Important American passed by Ren's spot of vigil, eyeing him with a smile before he walked back to his countrymen, and the thief took that as a clue to walk back to his own line of guards at the edge so as not to be caught in any important photographs, Yoshito free of any danger. The curator of the museum and the leaders of the exhibitions started talking about the great effort both parties had put in, about how, how the collaboration would strengthen the friendship between the countries, cutting the ribbon in a cliche if Ren's ever seen one, when the lights went out suddenly, all at once.
Smoke started seeping into the room, a familiar shade of pink, and then the Important American from earlier shed his disguise in a row of confetti before revealing Kaitou KID in the flesh, shooting a grin into Ren's general direction before he declared that he would steal the centerpiece of the exhibition in the coming days, a painting of the Tokyo and New York skylines bleeding into each other at night, stars represented by little diamond studs. It was a pretty strange painting all things considered, and really not Ren's taste -- Yusuke had ranted about it a good eight minutes the first time he's seen it -- so he'd stopped thinking about it.
But it would make sense that KID would target it, if only for its symbolism.
Well. Suddenly I like this job much more, Ren hummed, watching as everyone scattered around in surprise. Arsene?
I'm on it, his persona agreed, and Ren turned his attention towards Yoshito with a professional smile.
KID had absconded after his declaration, amused as always how predictable some people were, making his way towards the backdoor emergency exit by the generators that he'd planned on leaving in. The door to the generator rooms closed silently behind himself, not even a single noise escaping the freshly-oiled hinges, when he paused.
KID's sense of magic was not Akako's, not even close, but his sixth sense was a healthy and developed thing, and so he glanced to the side from where he'd come from, aware of one face in particular that he hadn't planned in: a certain successor of his, blending into the other guards lining the wall but for his gaze, which was as piercing as always. It had been a while since KID's seen hide nor hair of Joker, and even longer since they'd shared that heist at Jirokichi's expense. Youthful edges had bled away to the sharp contours of adulthood, something world-weary in his posture that seemed less innocent injustice and more dreary acceptance, the way all children have to learn that the adult world was not as black and white as they'd expected. Joker held himself like military now, with an ease that spoke of utmost trust in his own abilities. Most of it had been present in the Joker of half a decade prior, but now he'd grown into his own skin in a way KID could relate to, in a way not many could. Looking at Joker was still like looking into a mirror, seeing Kaito reflected back in a way that didn't hurt.
KID tilts his head to the side, monocle charm glinting in the dark room. "...it seems a shadow followed me into my lair," he quipped, and then the air shimmered and a smartly-dressed demon appeared from nothing. Joker's persona -- KID had done his research, as careful as when he and his detective had tried to look into the Black Org, of course -- materialized with a frightening visage and magnificent wings, feathers lax and unruffled.
And why shouldn't he be? This was Arsene Lupin, in the sort-of-flesh, mask lighting up in a grin. KID wanted to sit down with him and exchange notes, wanted to hear encounters with Ganimard and the French police from the source, wanted to feel those clawed fingers deftly undo all of KID's masks until his soul was bared. Lupin took a step towards KID, humming. "Stealing the painting in three days, such an easy riddle this time," he murmured, claws brushing against the lower jaw of the magician.
KID didn't dare to move. He'd not said as such explicitly, but Lupin was quite correct that that was the day he'd planned on absconding with the gaudy thing, symbolism and all. "Well, now that I've an audience worth impressing," he said, glad that his voice remained steady despite the staccato of his heart.
"Quite. Thou've made this rote trip much more alluring for my Joker all of a sudden," The persona breathed, fire licking up the edges of his mask-face and making KID weak in the knees--
then he disappeared, leaving the room all the colder for it. KID wheezed. Fucking-- that had been unexpected. And had sounded like --
Well. KID'd better step up his game, now.
KID had only caught glimpses of Joker during the heist, his rival dutifully staying put at his assignment, and a few days after, he was gone and back in Japan, where the magician would rather not interrupt whatever supernatural work the Phantom Thieves of Hearts were doing to keep the country and (maybe?) world safe, so he was sitting around sullenly in one of his temporary shelters, complaining to his mother about the injustice of it all. An old and worn copy of Arsène Lupin, Gentleman Cambrioleur was sitting in front of him, thumbed open at one of his favorite passages.
"Honestly, Kaito," she mused, currently visiting Ruby Jones in France and enjoying an impromptu vacation. "If you don't want to interrupt whatever weird government work Joker has with the Kirijo Group with your presence, then why not invite him again?" And she'd hung up.
KID frowned, staring past the open page at nothing. But the diadem heist had been ...different. He might be a curious kaitou, but he liked being an alive kaitou more. On one hand -- if he called, Joker would probably come, but that was so... anti-climatic. Where was the poise, the grandness, the chase --
KID blinked. "Wait." Glanced down at the book again, flipping it shut and eyeing the title. "...heh. It should never be said that I'm not a smart kaitou."
He picked up his burner phone again, dialing a number he knew by heart. The recipient picked it up after but a moment. "What, thief--"
"Ah, Meitantei! Listen, tell your little FBI friends that my next series of heists doesn't have anything to do with any of their current ongoing cases or with our last few droplets of alcohol, yeah? Thank you!" KID cheers, listening to Conan -- Shinichi, but only in the privacy of his mind -- splutter and curse for a few moments before interrupting again: "Where are you at right now anyways? Last I heard from you, you were knee-deep in a cover in Detroit..."
"Did you hear the news?" Akane asks, as soon as Ren's picked up the call. He's been back from America for three months, free of Kirijo's scrutiny after he'd written a detailed report, mostly lounging around his Sun with the upcoming elections. He hums, switches the phone from one hand to another while he plates his eggs, Arsene lounging around at their kitchen table.
"What news?"
"Kaitou KID has been arrested!" Akane shrieks, and Ren wonders how her internship with Naoto was doing for a split-second, before her words register.
"What?"
"Yes; it's been all over tumblr! ...and American news, I guess. Apparently he's been sent to the ADX Florence prison until Interpol can verify that it truly is him, and they're holding him there until then. He's had a pretty lucrative heist streak this time, and he's kept most of the things he'd stole for almost three months now. How didn't you hear about this?"
Ren flushes, but he's only kept a peripheral view on the heists because he'd had other things to do until a few weeks ago. "Calm down, I'll check it out, don't worry."
"You better--" Akane threatened, and hung up.
KID's gone on a heist spree five notices and counting, once even stealing an old and solid oak makeup table and corresponding makeup (the old woman it belonged to didn't press any charges because the handsome young man agreed to bring them back before the Anniversary of my husband's death), targeting mostly around Colorado and close counties, which makes ending up in America's most secure prison all the more suspicious, in Ren's eyes. He and Arsene were going over the heists to figure out if someone had set KID up or something when, a week later, his escape was announced on live television, the magician disappearing without a single trace left behind while there had been a news segment about the arrived Interpol agents airing.
Ren narrowed his eyes at the emerging patterns. "...what."
Arsene curls around his insides, anticipation and something hot and heavy making Ren lose focus.
Of the Interpol agents arriving at the scene was one Saguru 'Sheridan' Hakuba, Japanese-British detective most famous for chasing KID across international borders. Hakuba had an uncanny ability to find KID under most of his disguises, and every time they're in the same place the tension would skyrocket and KID's plans would get derailed by some, as an useful tumblr user analyzed. Their chase went on for a month, KID complicit in catching a different criminal or two all the while, before he gave back half of his treasures, disappearing from the face of the earth. Hakuba went back to England on some clue or the other. That made seven -- or eight, depending on how one counted them -- appearances of KID in the media.
That made eight clues, as far as Ren was concerned, heat pooling low in his belly, not necessarily his own. Very obvious clues. He was laying in bed, phone held above him and open to various news sites and the phansite. "...it would only be fair to follow, wouldn't it?" he asked, breathless, and Arsene shuddered through their connection, vibrating inside of Ren's bones and making his resolve crumble until his fingers ghosted over himself, half-hard just at the mere glance of a thought.
With such an earnest tribute we would be remiss not to attend. Arsene agreed, voice heady. He has been quite obvious in his interest the last time we've met, at least in regards to myself. And everything that has been announced happened in twos, Arsene mused further, enjoying Ren's hitch in breath as he pointed it out. He was all twitchy and interested, and Arsene guided their hand along until it was firm in its grip. Imagine, KID caught between our fingers, at the tender mercy of whatever we would do to him.
Ren shuddered. Arsene continued, presence brushing towards the surface but not leaving the confines of Ren's body, a tingling, electric feeling making goosebumps erupt. Or thou, underneath the both of us, at the beck and call of his seniors, unable to escape and thoroughly caught--
Ren shuddered again, spilling himself over his hand, phone falling out of his now-lax grip and next to his face while the hand that had held it brushed through sweaty strands of hair. "You," he huffed, Arsene deigning to finally materialize above him with a leery grin and spread wings, "are, hah, a menace."
Arsene's grin widened. "To Hawaii then?" He asked, and Ren closed his eyes in resignation.
"To Hawaii."
Kaitou KID had recreated the crimes of the first Arsène Lupin novel over the course of the last few months to the best of his ability, foregoing murders and murder accusations for the next-closest thing and doubling as many targets as possible, leaving clues in his wake that led Ren on board of the Pride of America cruise ship from Los Angeles to Honolulu. The ship was... something, Ren had to admit, all pretty and decked out with activities the passengers could enjoy on the week-long trip. He wasn't certain if the authorities had figured out the clues that KID would be a passenger on the ship and were waiting with an ambush at the port or not, but a discreet snoop of the captain and crew confirmed that none of them was suspecting anything. Ren himself should be safe, because the heists would seem nothing more than a tribute to Lupin if people would find out even that, so he and Arsene enjoyed the first two days of the cruise before a pretty stranger approached him at dinner on the third day at lunchtime.
"Excuse me, is this seat free?" She asked, pushing back short blonde hair.
Ren, brows raised, gestured for her to take a seat. "Thank you," she whispered. "I've been escaping the attention of a grisly passenger." She glanced cautiously over her shoulder, where, indeed, a man with a suit three times his salary was stalking towards Ren's table. Ren hummed, turned back to the woman.
"Your aunt called me earlier, to tell us that the kids are missing us but doing fine."
"Oh, I'm glad! I was worried that Justin would miss us dearly," she joined in, and the man made a face before disappearing again. Her expression gentled. "Thank you again. My name is Nelly Underdown. A pleasure."
Oh? Arsene asked, amused, pleased, and Ren merely tilted his head to the side. That was the role KID assigned himself? "Then you may call me Isamu d’Andrézy, Miss Nelly, if I may be so bold."
The ghost of a smirk stole across his face before KID settled back into his role with amusement, eyeing over Ren's appearance with an appreciative gaze -- he's not done much in the way of a disguise, opting for green contacts and slicked-back hair, relying on makeup to make the contours of his face more mixed European under the light of the cruise ship. He wasn't here on a mission, after all. "I like you, Mr Andrézy. As my knight in shining armor, I would like to invite you to a round of minigolf on the upper deck, on me, of course."
He blinks, momentarily confused -- why minigolf of all activities -- but easily agreed, going along with the charade out of genuine interest how long KID wanted to keep it up. Then the waiter arrives, together with their menu, and Ren settles back into this new game while they order their food, Arsene amused but silent.
KID chose minigolf for two reasons, he thinks, watching Joker eye their current course. Miss Nelly had proposed a challenge where they had to finish every hole as a hole-in-one or they wouldn't be allowed to move on to the next course, amping up the competitiveness of the game by a lot. If the ball didn't reach its goal it had to go back to the starting line. The reasons KID chose minigolf had to do with the pretty view from one of the upper decks of the ship, in the open but for a safety net to keep balls from falling off the side, and -- the more important reason, KID subtly adjusting his position:
Joker's focus had something otherworldy, the way all of his attention turns to the task at hand, something red shining through the green contacts. His muscles were taut, his brows furrowed but his situational awareness not diminished in the slightest while he calculated -- and scored -- a hole-in-one on the loop-de-loop course. The only thing better would be if Lupin could've joined them, but this was plenty candy enough.
(This would be plenty enough even if Joker declined the invitation KID's planned, that one comment string from the phansite seared into his mind, eidetic memory and all. KID could read between the lines, thank-you-very-much, and that reading had made him both jealous and aware that KID's age wouldn't necessarily be a deterrent for Joker, as he'd previously worried.)
So they played golf, and then they slipped into their roles and went to the pool deck to sip at something frilly but nonalcoholic, watching people and making a game of guessing their professions, Lupin slipping in-and-out of Joker's countenance with ease, making KID different ways of excited. He unashamedly uses Miss Nelly to casually touch Mr Andrézy everywhere, brushing arms and shoulders and picking off a piece of nonexistent lint off his chest, flirting in-character as a way of actually flirting with the others. Later, Joker tugged him below deck to a cruise-intern photo studio, grinning charmingly. "It is no Kodak 9x12, but it should do, no?" He asked, cheekily, and KID did his best not to cackle at how ridiculous they were, internationally famous thieves and all.
KID touched Joker's arm, ghosted fingernails over exposed flesh. "Will I see you again at dinner?" He asked, and they parted ways with a promise to meet up before the third deck restaurant. KID hurried to his room -- sea-view with a balcony and a double bed for purposes, inside cabin number (1)412 for good measure, changing out of his daywear and enjoying a hot shower before he switches to something a little bit more formal in whites and pastels before applying a pretty (bleeding) lipstick and going back out.
Joker was looking splendid, black blazer over a maroon vest and grey shirt and slacks, prettily color-coordinated to Lupin, and they enjoyed dinner together, keeping up a flow of pleasant chatter that naturally segued into the newest scandals surrounding Kaitou KID. Miss Nelly listened in quite interest to the others' deductions about the heists, how each one corresponded to the ones found in the first Leblanc novel, how KID clearly alluded to the stories without harm to outsiders (except Hakuba's pride). KID, underneath his disguise, was becoming all hot and bothered, that glimpse into a brilliant mind that he's been allowed (or minds, as it were) making him yearn for more and doing him in much more than physical attraction ever could.
(That is not to say that Joker's not attractive, mind, but following his thought-process and catching a glimpse at his modus operandi was simply more attractive. Back then, too, how he'd outmaneuvered Vermouth, how he'd weighted the risks and chose the safest option for the people attending the heist, how he'd handed KID the final piece of a Black Org-shaped puzzle that had been plaguing him for the better part of a decade. Joker probably didn't know how long-lasting it had been, seeing Pandora and Sophie and then putting together the clues in the privacy of his mind, the little AI's pigtails doublet-shaped and red as a jewel that supposedly grants immortality.)
The composure of the great Kaitou KID would not survive the whole evening, frayed as it already was, heat pooling low in his stomach and making parts of him certainly interested and straining against their constraints. They finished dinner in agony, Andrézy offering his hand to Miss Nelly and asking to accompany her to her room lest the brute from lunch were to come back. KID played the swooning, thoroughly-charmed maiden until they'd made it into the corridor towards his room. Joker dropped his mask once he discerned that they were alone, the hand that was ghosting over the small of KID's back making contact and drawing up a line to the exposed neck of the magician and to his hairline, scratching at the edge of his blonde wig. "You're quite mad, KID, you know?" He asked, sotto voce.
KID flutters his eyelashes at Joker, pulse picking up. "I've not the slightest clue what you mean, Mr Andrézy," he muttered in Miss Nelly's voice.
"Staging a series of heists to catch our attention, even though you've always had it." One of them says, eyes lidded, rowing over KID's form with a much deeper appreciation than before, and KID's feeble composure snaps as he surges forward, grabbing at the front of the maroon vest and neatly directing his fellow thief against the wall, one hand braced against and slanting one skirt-covered leg between two and rucking up his knee until he can feel Joker's interest straining. His mouth is hovering only inches over Joker's, their breaths mingling.
"This is your last chance to back out, the both of you," he murmurs, hands trembling in their effort to not tug that enticing mouth to his.
"Oh, we wouldn't," Joker says, and closes the gap, one hand at KID's chin and the other at his hip, tugging them closer together. KID savours the kiss, not at all gentle but all teeth and tongue as Joker sucks at his bottom lip, movements overeager and almost clumsy in their attempt at stealing the magician's breath away, but KID cannot complain, letting it be gladly stolen.
The lift starts making noise to their left, signalling someone's approach, and KID draws back, regretfully, only to flush in satisfaction at seeing how swollen and lipstick-red Joker's lips were, eyes blown wide. KID probably didn't look much better. "How about we relocate, Mr Andrézy?" KID breathes, glancing meaningfully down the hall.
"Gladly."