Sometimes, Ranpo hated being the smartest detective in the world. There could be practically no secrets kept from him, though it had happened once or twice in his life, but nothing more than that. So in the end, he knew almost everything.

So when he figured out that Poe was in love with Kunikida, he was heartbroken. He’d never been good at emotions or social cues, but his crush on the awkward writer had hit him so hard even he couldn’t miss it. And while Poe himself hadn’t quite figured out he was in love with Kunikida, Ranpo knew it was only a matter of time before he did, and from what he had deduced, Kunikida liked him back. It would have been sweet watching them tiptoe around each other if it hadn’t been so painful.

He’d tried to get over Poe, tried to rationalise his feelings away, but emotions lived their own life, and his crush had bloomed into love without his permission. Sometimes he laid awake at night, staring into the ceiling of his little apartment, sometimes he couldn’t stop himself from crying himself to sleep.

And sometimes, times like tonight, he got out of bed and sat up on the roof. This time he’d brought alcohol with him. Alcohol was supposed to numb your emotions, and he’d gotten desperate enough to ease his heartbreak for just one night that he was willing to go off of things that he wasn’t sure of.

He hadn’t really drank before this, despite his age, and convincing the cashier at the liquor store a few houses down that his ID was indeed not fake had taken a surprising amount of work, but now he was up there, in the middle of the night, with way more than he probably needed. What with him never drinking before (at all, really), he hadn’t known how much he needed, and he hadn’t had the energy to figure it out. So he’d just picked a few things out that he’d heard of before. He’d tied the bag to the base of the parabola antenna that wasn’t used anymore so it wouldn’t crash to the ground, and then opened up a bottle at random.

And that’s where Dazai found him, legs pulled up to his chest and sipping on a glass bottle. It was too dark outside for him to read the label, but he thought he recognised it. He made his way up there, and sat down next to the only actual detective the agency had to offer.

“What’re you drinking?”

His voice was low and calm, sensing the other man’s demure state of mind. Still, Ranpo jerked a little, and Dazai realised he must be drunk.

Ranpo tried to wipe his face without Dazai noticing, but he still saw the shimmer of tears in the moonlight for the split second it took him to wipe them off. “Bourbon. It’s gross, why do you like this stuff?” His voice was thick, both with tears and the aftertaste of the alcohol.

“Bourbon is an acquired taste, “ he said and plucked the bottle from Ranpo’s hands. He got a disgruntled “hey” as the shorter man pawed after it, but Dazai held it far away until Ranpo wrapped his arms around his knees, allowing him to take a swig of it.

“There’s no point to stuff you gotta ‘acquire’ a taste for. It should taste good right away,” was the eventual response, and then he fished another bottle out of the plastic bag Dazai had noted in the back of his mind without paying any attention to. This time he could see it was vodka.

“You’re really not gonna like that.” Ranpo rolled his eyes at him.

“That’s not the point right now. The point is,” he pocketed the cap of the bottle, “that I get too drunk to think.”

A look crossed Ranpo’s face, there just long enough for Dazai to catch. It was one of utter sadness, and he knew that Ranpo still had a long way to go to reach the numbness he wanted to achieve. He watched as Ranpo took a big swig straight out of the bottle, followed by sputtering and coughing. When he met Ranpo’s eyes this time it was undoubtedly mostly due to the alcohol that he had known Ranpo would find repulsive. “That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever had.” He took another, much smaller taste, and made a sour grimace.

For a while they just sat there in complete silence, drinking and listening to the world around them. Ranpo made a face after every sip, but was determined to finish it.

“So why’re you up here in the first place? I’ve never seen you drink before.”

“I’m in love with Poe. Poe’s in love with Kunikida. Kunikida’s in love with Poe. And I just keep liking Poe more and more. It won’t stop.” He needed to tell someone. Maybe, if he did, it would get easier. He just wanted it to get easier, but Poe was so sweet, lit up the whole world with his smiles, and it just got harder and harder. So in a way, he was happy that Dazai was here. He knew that Dazai had experienced heartbreak.

“How did you get over it?”

Dazai choked on his drink, bourbon dribbling down his chin and onto his vest. “I uuuh, what?”

“You had a friend who passed away. You were in love with him, weren’t you?”

With a deep sigh, Dazai laid down on the roof, face turned to the stars. “Of course you figured it out. Yeah, I was. I don’t know, it’s been years now, and it just… got better, I guess? Sleeping around helped, mostly. Sex is fun, the ladies and gents are pretty, and they like the attention. So I did that, mostly. And then time helped.” But really, what else was he supposed to do? He’d died, left him behind before Dazai even got to tell him his feelings. Not that he had any plans to do so, at the time.

“I dunno, that’s kinda, well… much for me. I’ve never even, uum…” Clearly he’d gotten quite wasted by now, Ranpo never stumbled over his words.

“Kissed?” The shade of red that exploded on Ranpo’s face was endearing. He wasn’t surprised, most people found the detective to be annoying, and he’d never showed any interest in romance. Ranpo slowly nodded, watching his smile through narrowed eyes.

“Don’t laugh at me.” He pouted, slapping his own cheeks lightly as if to will the blush away. It didn’t help very much. “I’ve just never wanted to kiss anyone before.”

“I’m not laughing at you, I think it’s sweet. It’s unfortunate that he likes someone else though. It’s never a pleasant feeling.” He took the vodka out of Ranpo’s hands, fished the cork out of his pocket with some effort, and put it back in the bag. “I think you’re done drinking now though, you’re gonna feel terrible tomorrow if you continue.”

“I’m gonna feel terrible anyway,” Ranpo grumbled and reached for the bag again. Dazai stood up and moved to Ranpo’s other side so he could intercept him and deny him access to it. “Nope! Sorry, you’re done for today! You can come to my apartment for more another day, but we can’t have you getting addicted. It’s gotta be either candy or alcohol.”

Ranpo let out a whine that was louder than he had intended, flopping down on the roof. “You already know I’m gonna pick candy, that’s not fair!” The sky was swimming, and he had to press his hands to his eyes to try and get it to stop. “I think I’m gonna puke…”

“Slow breaths.” Dazai guided him through breathing until the world was stable enough to relax. “See, no more alcohol for you. How were you planning on getting down with how wasted you’d be if you drank all of this?” He looked through the labels of the bottles in the bag. “Especially considering this is all hard liquor.”

He’s pretty sure no one at the agency would have been excited to wake up to Ranpo dead on the ground first thing in the morning.

Ranpo just shrugged instead of giving a proper reply. Maybe he’d underestimated the effects the alcohol would have on him. But he was tiny, thin and not used to drinking, so really, what did he expect.

Dazai stood, holding out a hand. “Come on, I’ll help you down.” His coworker didn’t really have any options but to take it.

The climb down was awkward, since the roof wasn’t really meant to be climbed in the first place, and Dazai hadn’t expected to have to carry someone else down from it. He couldn’t even just throw him over his shoulder like he might’ve been able to otherwise, knowing for sure that Ranpo would have thrown up all over him if he did.

But they eventually reached the ground, and Ranpo wobbled where he was put down. He could barely stand, and Dazai picked him back again, laughing when Ranpo protested. He kept one hand under his knees and the other on his back, carrying him back to his apartment.

“If you ever need to get your mind off things and drink, come over to mine instead. Don’t need you falling off the roof and breaking your neck. Imagine how jealous I’d be.”

Ranpo rolled his eyes, though instantly regretted it when everything started spinning again. Thankfully it was not as bad as the last time.

“I’m not gonna die over a heartbreak.”

“That’s the spirit! Now, go back to sleep, and when you wake up you can text me and I’ll help you with some hangover cures. Just be prepared, the ones that help the best are the most gross.”

“Great.”

Dazai put him down on the futon and tucked him in, turning him on the side so he wouldn’t choke in his sleep. “You know, I can take you somewhere that makes drinks you might actually like some time. There's ones where you add soda in them.”

Eyelids already growing heavy after being swaddled like a little burrito, Ranpo sighed. “Okay. Thanks, Dazai.”

“Good night, Ranpo.”

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