ʀᴀɴᴘᴏᴇ ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ ∞ [𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚍]

Deflowered(Pt.1)

A bare chest, face not visible due to a white blanket that covered it, Any way, that was never the way Ranpo expected to do 'it' for the first time. An event that occurred six years ago, when he was at the academy, but also, the time he was deflowered and was unable to remember who it was.

∆

The day Edgar arrived in Japan, it was breezy and cold, and the huge rain didn't go unnoticed.

The guild had happily accepted him for his intelligence and for his abilities , not only for his architecture and writing but also the one that let him trap anyone into a story.

He didn't really care about that work, it paid well, it was comfortable, did not have a complicated schedule, but he came all the way for something—no, for someone.

That someone no one else but the great detective Ranpo Edogawa, who did not just beat him humiliating him in a riddling game. But had also gotten him drunk and somehow ended up under the sheets, hurting his pride twice the quantity since in the morning, Edogawa had fled.

∆

It was a normal Friday night at the academy, where the students would go out and party all night. Yes, today they were partying as usual, but there was something that was never ever seen previously. Edgar Allan Poe, third year, was there.

He had gotten invited over to the canteen by some of his classmates – that he doesn't even remember their names – so he could 'drown away today's humiliation'. Poe knew it was plain bullshit, he was so angered, especially at that boy.

He had gotten so distracted by his facial features – especially his small but fluorescent emerald eyes – that he ended up losing and making a fool of himself.

There was no way he would get a drink with this couple of strangers, he had never had alcohol and nobody would take responsibility for him.

Someone tapped his shoulder, it was light, since whoever had just touched seemed to be short. He shifted, didn't expect for him to be the one calling.

— light pole, hey — quite the nice comment. Ranpo looked definitely not sober, his eyes' glare dizzyingly, cheeks flushed, hair and lips being the messiest. In fact, his lips looked glowy, kind of glassy. Wait—could it be Ranpo had put on chapstick? Oh.

— Hey..shortcake —Poe instantly regretted saying that word, where did it even come from? What's up with him lately? Ranpo frowned in response— I see we're complimenting each others' height today —.

Poe adjusted his back as Ranpo sat at the chair next to him, the large tall pub table was almost empty, as the majority of people were already up to some different businesses. Edgar gave no answer.

— I thought America didn't have those simping creeps that go dumbfounded when seeing someone pretty. You blew up a big chance y'know?—.

Ranpo managed the words, though from time to time his vocalization wasn't very clear.—W-what? Simps? Creeps? Hold on a second, are you talking about me?—.

As Poe comes with a "decent" response despite his confusion, the black haired boy forms a grin as he chuckles— Of course it's you! Or who was it that could look at me without red covering your face? I know I'm hot but chill —.

—W-what, no y-you and what chance? —Now he's back with flustered cheeks like this afternoon, it seems that those eyes Ranpo had drugged him, figuratively. Poe calms himself down, or so he thinks, two seconds to compose himself is not enough— You really need a drink, a strong one —Though the taller one instantly shook his head, the boy proceeded and asked the barista for a whiskey.