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29 April 2007 @ 12:44 pm
Antidote (40 Nights: Kaito/Aoko)  
Title: Antidote
Fandom: Detective Conan/Magic Kaitou
Author: Candyland
Theme: #35—I’m poisoned from the very moment
Pairing: Kuroba Kaito/Nakamori Aoko
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Gosho Aoyama. I do not own them. I merely borrow them, drop them in a blender, hit puree, and watch them dance. Yes, dance, my pretties…ahem.
Summary: It was like a poison, and there was only one antidote…



Though it may sound like a horrendous cliché, their first kiss was really an accident.

And in a school hallway, no less.

No one was around—it was after school, they’d just finished cleaning up the classroom, and were on their way out. It was getting late, the sun was setting beyond the window. They were simply walking along towards the stairs, engrossed in their usual routine of bickering over miniscule things.

And in hindsight, neither could really figure out exactly how it had happened.

Aoko would later insist that Kaito was the one who tripped over his own stupid feet, and she had reached out to steady him. Kaito would swear that nothing of the sort happened, that it was, in fact, Aoko who had stumbled and he’d tried to catch her before she crashed. But whoever the culprit, whichever story one chose to believe, they wound up leaning heavily against the wall, holding each other up, in the most awkward position they’d ever experienced.

The mutual shock and embarrassment lasted a mere second, though, before they were distracted, and attentions were directed to the newly-presented matter at hand..

From the instant that their lips met that first time, they were addicted. It was like a deathless poison, winding a course through their bodies, and the only antidote was the other’s kiss. As time went on, the press of lips and the twisting cage of arms became more and more commonplace events.

It was strange. Everyone had always said they would end up together; the only ones with doubts had been Kaito and Aoko themselves, denying all accusations of feelings. The observers merely shook their heads and smiled knowingly. Give them time, everyone said. When they figure it out—when they finally realize how they feel about each other, there will be no force on Earth, no power known to man or beast that will be able to keep them apart.

The progression was slow, the growing bond fragile as a snowflake. After all, this was a different experience for both of them, to think of each other no longer as just friends, but as…well, neither was quite sure what to call their relationship at that point. The common terms of boyfriend and girlfriend didn’t feel right, and they were not what one would call lovers, per se.

The right term remained an enigma. So they simply stopped thinking about it.

On the surface, at least, things really hadn’t changed that much. They were still always together, just as they always had been. But just beneath that careful façade lay the confusion and uncertainty and fear that neither dared give voice to for fear of causing harm. The feelings that were only chased away by one thing. His hands could chase away her doubts; her kisses made his concerns disappear. Neither had any experience in such an area; it was all unexplored territory.

So it remained hidden, masked behind their usual smiles and increasingly-usual kisses.

And then one night, everything finally came crashing down on them. The base scenario was one they’d experienced many times before: just the two of them, hanging out at Aoko’s house when her father was away at an out-of-town conference. But then the status quo shifted, shaking them both.

A hug led to a kiss. A kiss led to a touch. One thing leading to another, as the saying went.

And there were kisses. And touches. Both were plentiful.

The aftermath, witnessed only by the serene glow of moonlight, was surprisingly silent for the fears that lay just beneath the water’s smooth surface. In the quiet, protective ring of his arms, she wondered what would come of this, what was he thinking. Stroking her hair, he wondered if he had irreversibly damaged what had been so carefully built between them.

He stayed that night, in her bed, in her heart and soul and mind. She awoke to the sound of his heart beating in his chest, his slumbering face so near her own. She didn’t move, but simply watched him—she rarely got to see him like this, lost to the world, completely unguarded. He looked so sweet, innocent, boyish with one strand of messy hair hanging charmingly over his eyes.

She waited like that, taking him in and wondering if this would ever happen again, waking up to him like this, or if everything had been destroyed by one night of passion and complete irresponsibility.

When he finally woke up, it was to her watchful eyes, a memory, and a flash of something…

They simply looked at each other. Neither knew what to say, what to do, what magical thing would make the tension disappear and things go back to the way they were. But if another cliché may be used, there really is no going back. There is only pressing forward.

He broke the awkward silence first, reaching out with a tentative hand to brush careful fingers against her cheek in a feather-light touch. Concerned words, just as soft, asking if she was all right. It was only then that she saw the uncharacteristic flicker of fear behind his eyes.

She had known him most of her life, and she had never known him to be afraid of anything. Yet one look from her had him trembling; she held that kind of complicated power over him. She had the power to hold him close, kiss him, stay beside him…or shatter him into a thousand pieces, crush him, leave him.

She had the power to love him, or destroy him.

But…wasn’t it reciprocal, then? He had that same power over her, she realized belatedly. After all, she’d put her heart in his talented hands—magician’s hands—long ago. He’d held it all this time. All he had to do to kill her was squeeze.

They needed to talk.

They stayed in bed that morning and into the afternoon, curled against each other in the warmth of the sun’s rays. Quiet voices finally relayed not-so-quiet fears, from the early days of that first poisonous kiss and from the sudden events of the night before and everything in between. It took a long time, and there were no few tears. But he listened, she listened, and they both asked the same questions.

Where do we go from here?

What happens now?

I don’t know.


She cried. Caught up in the heat of the moment and the release of a passion that she hadn’t even known she was holding in, she hadn’t even thought about the consequences. She wasn’t sorry that it was him, not at all, but…

I love you.

Her eyes widened.

What?

I love you. And I’m not going to leave you. Ever.

Promise?

Promise. Don’t you leave me either.

Never.


After all was said and done, they were all right. This fact became official the day that he walked up behind her, all innocence…and flipped her skirt sky-high. Without thinking, she grabbed her trusty mop and took a swing at his head. The chase was on once again.

It wasn’t until much later, though, that Kaito made the comment that he’d finally figured out what they were to each other. It took surprisingly little prodding on Aoko’s part to get an answer.

He kissed her and hugged her and called her his soul-mate.

So don’t get any bright ideas about going anywhere, he told her solemnly.

She laughed and gave him a kiss of her own. Not a chance, she said. I love you, too.

It wasn’t perfect, by any stretch of the imagination.

But it was love, and it was addictive.




PS. Plunnie attack! I was looking at the themes list, and had a little PWP moment. It ended up going in an entirely different direction then I had originally intended, and in a completely different style—a lot longer than I’d figured on, too. Oh well. Hope you liked nonetheless.

OOC? Perhaps—again, not really worrying about it. Thanks for reading, everyone. Ciao!