Fic: Table for Two and Tea for Ghosts
Titles: Table for Two and Tea for Ghosts
Author: Saitaina
Rating: PG
Summary: Saguru goes though the same routine while Kaito matches up socks.
Warning: Character death
Pairings: Kaito/Saguru
Notes: Part of Finis, posted together as they share the same theme.
Table for Two
The days always go the same, as they have since the pair moved in together.
Saguru woke up with the alarm, absently slapping at it before it woke up his dead to the world lover who probably went to bed only a few hours before. He rolled out of bed stretching his body, working out the kinks that came with laying in one position for most of the eight hours he slept, stumbling for the kitchen, Kaito's robe draped loosely around his body.
He turns on the coffee, ignoring the water draining through old grounds as he filled the kettle for the tea, watching as the flames licked over the metal. He forced himself to stand, putting four slices into the toaster to turn a rich, golden brown as he scrambled eggs and fried fish. He added some bacon to the pan afterwards, frying it up and leaving it for his boyfriend as he took his own breakfast and tea to the table, hungrily eating and contemplating what was to come later in the day.
--
Saguru knew he didn't really have to work anymore, between his inheritance from his parents and the money Kaito brought to their relationship, but it gave him something to do during the day, and solving mysteries was still his passion.
He worked part time in private practice, and part time with the task force, chasing after the latest clues and tips that came their way as they chased criminal 25686 across most of Asia. It was an easy pair of jobs, frustrating and exilerating, keeping his mind busy and way from matters at home.
He would often take lunch with Nakamori and 'the gang', discussing what he had learned that day at the task force office, bouncing ideas off the older male, wanting the retired man's opinion on this and that and everything else.
After that, when Aoko had driven her father home, dropping Saguru off at his main office, he had a chance to have another tea, and reflect on his life, enjoying the simple afternoon before clients showed, needing his expertise on whatever was bothering them, or Kudo appeared, desperate for a break from his own cases.
He was making a living, but just because he had a job, didn't mean he was living.
--
He returned home late, usually just an hour or so before Kaito was ready to leave for a performance or heist.
He waits for a moment, listening for Kaito's sounds, before heading into the bathroom to change into something ore comfortable then his work clothes, tossing them carefully into the hamper, still listening. He was always listening, waiting to hear Kaito coming down the hall or calling from the kitchen.
On the whole, the apartment was the same as the night when Kaito left and went out to get himself killed. There were still two white loafers near the TV, where Kaito had kicked them after fleeing Saguru all around the house one heist night, there was still a paper rose and top hat in the hall, still a pile of dirty clothes by the shower and Kaito's pillow tucked halfway off the bed near the night table.
It had been four months, twelve days, six hours and two minutes.
Saguru had always thought the end would be more fiery, have more explosions and changes in weather. The end of the world wasn't supposed to come one lazy summer Sunday, in between "Do we have enough milk" and "Will Nakamori have a heart attack if I turn him lime green?"
Kaito wasn't just supposed to not be there, when Saguru walked through the door.
Kaito was always in charge of dinner, weather it was take out or something the other man had cooked, it was Kaito's job to have it waiting, along with the evening paper when Saguru came home. It hadn't been anything the pair had decided consciously, it just was always the way things went, just as Saguru paid all the bills out of their account and Kaito bought everything and anything they needed for the house.
They both were in charge of housework, even though Kaito sucked at it.
They shared everything, their lives, their homes, their desperation, and their battles. So Saguru always made a point of doing his share, home by eight at least, latest case reports ready to share over dessert, a kiss for his dead lover...
...and a table set for two.
Fin
Tea for Ghosts
Maybe it ghosts like this:
Kaito has a wooden box, full of trinkets Saguru never gave him. Old school books, a pair of Sherlock Holmes mugs, an old deerstalker hat and a brown and gold scarf that threatens to unravel every time Kaito so much as looks at it.
The scarf has been dolling out the same threat for ages now, since Kaito was sixteen, and it has yet to follow through. Kaito's not quite so sure what he would do if it would fall apart, repair it for sure, and then maybe he would have to learn a thing or two about taking care of himself.
At least, he might learn to darn a sock.
Kaito's got a lot of socks with holes, hell, he has a lot of socks full stop, and the oddest thing about it, is he doesn't have a pair that matches anywhere.
He has socks in the bathroom, socks on the line out the window, socks that for some reason are in the potted plant, and socks that a cat is trying to shred to bits. Kaito's not sure why he loses so many socks, he just knows he does.
He thinks there might be a ghost that comes and takes them all.
He's invested far too much yen into socks, and yet, somewhere between the washer and his drawers, they get lost. Nothing matches up, dotted, striped, argyle, cotton, polyester, and some silky pair that he knows doesn't belong to him. However, it can't be his fault, his favorite pair doesn't match either.
They have holes in them, in the heels and in the toes, and one has a hole near the top, where a bullet ripped through it, but Kaito doesn't care.
He doesn't care about a lot these days.
He no longer goes to work, spending most of his time these days staring at the paper blue prints and plans that are gathering dust and fading away. No one comes to visit him anymore, his mother having moved away to be closer to the rest of their family, Aoko moving over to collage and later the force.
They claimed he was cutting himself off from them, but Kaito can't see how, as he's always been there, even when they weren't.
But Kaito's socks don't match, and he can't quite remember when they last did.
--
Saguru had walked away from him at graduation, and promptly into the Task Force's office, giving them all the evidence he collected, including a strand of Kaito's hair that had landed on his arm as he greeted the teen at the ceremony earlier that day, and a piece of gum Kaito had sworn he had slipped into his pocket after taking it from his mouth, but somehow hadn't.
Saguru had never promised, in their long sweaty nights and slow, passionate kisses, that their life would be different, that right or wrong wouldn't come between them, but Kaito had ignored it, too busy being in love and in lust to remember black, white, good or evil.
When Saguru and Kaito next met, staring at each other across the distance of the roof, lights flashing off their clothing and the cries of the crowd echoing around them, Kaito had asked Saguru to come home, to the new apartment Kaito had rented out, wanting the to start over.
It wasn't though, until Saguru had found him backstage, leaning against the dressing table as he panted, wiping sweat and make-up from his face, body still humming from a show well done, the stunned and wondering crowd's whispers fading away as the audience haded home, that he said yes.
Because Saguru couldn't let Kaito go, it would be like cutting off his own arm. He missed the thief magician too much, to care what side they were on.
Saguru died, standing next to Kaito, no longer rivals, no longer on opposite sides, but standing as one, against the darkness trying to overcome them. They fought against each other, they fought to fight...and they fought for each other.
And every night, when Kaito tries to die in Saguru's place, he thinks of this, and wonders if there could be another end.
--
Three months after Kaito moved into the apartment, he found a tabby kitten sitting on his morning paper that reminded him of Saguru, for no real reason except that it was there. He called the cat Watson and every night, when he sees Saguru, he tells him about the kitten he's raising.
That they should have been raising together.
And, on a day like all others, he opened his front door, to find a kitten pawing at it, dirt and grime matting it's fur. It looks just like the one currently chasing a fake dove around the living room, and the first thing that strikes Kaito is that they're like matching, purring socks.
They're a pair, and and since it would be nice for Kaito to finally have something that matches, he takes the kitten in and gives it a bowl of milk. He names the kitten Arsine and thinks the more the merrier, not minding that this apartment had never actually been Saguru's home.
It doesn't matter to Kaito nor to the ghost that lived with him.
--
Home to Kaito, is a three room apartment, with too many socks and two mewling kittens. He wonders, if home is where the heart is, has he always truly been alone? Cold fills the house, the two kittens curling close for warmth, for comfort, whining slightly when Kaito shifts, trying to find a spot on the bed that isn't freezing and empty.
It's times like these, he pulls out the box of trinkets, makes tea for ghosts, and tries to match his socks.
Fin
Author: Saitaina
Rating: PG
Summary: Saguru goes though the same routine while Kaito matches up socks.
Warning: Character death
Pairings: Kaito/Saguru
Notes: Part of Finis, posted together as they share the same theme.
Table for Two
The days always go the same, as they have since the pair moved in together.
Saguru woke up with the alarm, absently slapping at it before it woke up his dead to the world lover who probably went to bed only a few hours before. He rolled out of bed stretching his body, working out the kinks that came with laying in one position for most of the eight hours he slept, stumbling for the kitchen, Kaito's robe draped loosely around his body.
He turns on the coffee, ignoring the water draining through old grounds as he filled the kettle for the tea, watching as the flames licked over the metal. He forced himself to stand, putting four slices into the toaster to turn a rich, golden brown as he scrambled eggs and fried fish. He added some bacon to the pan afterwards, frying it up and leaving it for his boyfriend as he took his own breakfast and tea to the table, hungrily eating and contemplating what was to come later in the day.
--
Saguru knew he didn't really have to work anymore, between his inheritance from his parents and the money Kaito brought to their relationship, but it gave him something to do during the day, and solving mysteries was still his passion.
He worked part time in private practice, and part time with the task force, chasing after the latest clues and tips that came their way as they chased criminal 25686 across most of Asia. It was an easy pair of jobs, frustrating and exilerating, keeping his mind busy and way from matters at home.
He would often take lunch with Nakamori and 'the gang', discussing what he had learned that day at the task force office, bouncing ideas off the older male, wanting the retired man's opinion on this and that and everything else.
After that, when Aoko had driven her father home, dropping Saguru off at his main office, he had a chance to have another tea, and reflect on his life, enjoying the simple afternoon before clients showed, needing his expertise on whatever was bothering them, or Kudo appeared, desperate for a break from his own cases.
He was making a living, but just because he had a job, didn't mean he was living.
--
He returned home late, usually just an hour or so before Kaito was ready to leave for a performance or heist.
He waits for a moment, listening for Kaito's sounds, before heading into the bathroom to change into something ore comfortable then his work clothes, tossing them carefully into the hamper, still listening. He was always listening, waiting to hear Kaito coming down the hall or calling from the kitchen.
On the whole, the apartment was the same as the night when Kaito left and went out to get himself killed. There were still two white loafers near the TV, where Kaito had kicked them after fleeing Saguru all around the house one heist night, there was still a paper rose and top hat in the hall, still a pile of dirty clothes by the shower and Kaito's pillow tucked halfway off the bed near the night table.
It had been four months, twelve days, six hours and two minutes.
Saguru had always thought the end would be more fiery, have more explosions and changes in weather. The end of the world wasn't supposed to come one lazy summer Sunday, in between "Do we have enough milk" and "Will Nakamori have a heart attack if I turn him lime green?"
Kaito wasn't just supposed to not be there, when Saguru walked through the door.
Kaito was always in charge of dinner, weather it was take out or something the other man had cooked, it was Kaito's job to have it waiting, along with the evening paper when Saguru came home. It hadn't been anything the pair had decided consciously, it just was always the way things went, just as Saguru paid all the bills out of their account and Kaito bought everything and anything they needed for the house.
They both were in charge of housework, even though Kaito sucked at it.
They shared everything, their lives, their homes, their desperation, and their battles. So Saguru always made a point of doing his share, home by eight at least, latest case reports ready to share over dessert, a kiss for his dead lover...
...and a table set for two.
Fin
Tea for Ghosts
Maybe it ghosts like this:
Kaito has a wooden box, full of trinkets Saguru never gave him. Old school books, a pair of Sherlock Holmes mugs, an old deerstalker hat and a brown and gold scarf that threatens to unravel every time Kaito so much as looks at it.
The scarf has been dolling out the same threat for ages now, since Kaito was sixteen, and it has yet to follow through. Kaito's not quite so sure what he would do if it would fall apart, repair it for sure, and then maybe he would have to learn a thing or two about taking care of himself.
At least, he might learn to darn a sock.
Kaito's got a lot of socks with holes, hell, he has a lot of socks full stop, and the oddest thing about it, is he doesn't have a pair that matches anywhere.
He has socks in the bathroom, socks on the line out the window, socks that for some reason are in the potted plant, and socks that a cat is trying to shred to bits. Kaito's not sure why he loses so many socks, he just knows he does.
He thinks there might be a ghost that comes and takes them all.
He's invested far too much yen into socks, and yet, somewhere between the washer and his drawers, they get lost. Nothing matches up, dotted, striped, argyle, cotton, polyester, and some silky pair that he knows doesn't belong to him. However, it can't be his fault, his favorite pair doesn't match either.
They have holes in them, in the heels and in the toes, and one has a hole near the top, where a bullet ripped through it, but Kaito doesn't care.
He doesn't care about a lot these days.
He no longer goes to work, spending most of his time these days staring at the paper blue prints and plans that are gathering dust and fading away. No one comes to visit him anymore, his mother having moved away to be closer to the rest of their family, Aoko moving over to collage and later the force.
They claimed he was cutting himself off from them, but Kaito can't see how, as he's always been there, even when they weren't.
But Kaito's socks don't match, and he can't quite remember when they last did.
--
Saguru had walked away from him at graduation, and promptly into the Task Force's office, giving them all the evidence he collected, including a strand of Kaito's hair that had landed on his arm as he greeted the teen at the ceremony earlier that day, and a piece of gum Kaito had sworn he had slipped into his pocket after taking it from his mouth, but somehow hadn't.
Saguru had never promised, in their long sweaty nights and slow, passionate kisses, that their life would be different, that right or wrong wouldn't come between them, but Kaito had ignored it, too busy being in love and in lust to remember black, white, good or evil.
When Saguru and Kaito next met, staring at each other across the distance of the roof, lights flashing off their clothing and the cries of the crowd echoing around them, Kaito had asked Saguru to come home, to the new apartment Kaito had rented out, wanting the to start over.
It wasn't though, until Saguru had found him backstage, leaning against the dressing table as he panted, wiping sweat and make-up from his face, body still humming from a show well done, the stunned and wondering crowd's whispers fading away as the audience haded home, that he said yes.
Because Saguru couldn't let Kaito go, it would be like cutting off his own arm. He missed the thief magician too much, to care what side they were on.
Saguru died, standing next to Kaito, no longer rivals, no longer on opposite sides, but standing as one, against the darkness trying to overcome them. They fought against each other, they fought to fight...and they fought for each other.
And every night, when Kaito tries to die in Saguru's place, he thinks of this, and wonders if there could be another end.
--
Three months after Kaito moved into the apartment, he found a tabby kitten sitting on his morning paper that reminded him of Saguru, for no real reason except that it was there. He called the cat Watson and every night, when he sees Saguru, he tells him about the kitten he's raising.
That they should have been raising together.
And, on a day like all others, he opened his front door, to find a kitten pawing at it, dirt and grime matting it's fur. It looks just like the one currently chasing a fake dove around the living room, and the first thing that strikes Kaito is that they're like matching, purring socks.
They're a pair, and and since it would be nice for Kaito to finally have something that matches, he takes the kitten in and gives it a bowl of milk. He names the kitten Arsine and thinks the more the merrier, not minding that this apartment had never actually been Saguru's home.
It doesn't matter to Kaito nor to the ghost that lived with him.
--
Home to Kaito, is a three room apartment, with too many socks and two mewling kittens. He wonders, if home is where the heart is, has he always truly been alone? Cold fills the house, the two kittens curling close for warmth, for comfort, whining slightly when Kaito shifts, trying to find a spot on the bed that isn't freezing and empty.
It's times like these, he pulls out the box of trinkets, makes tea for ghosts, and tries to match his socks.
Fin