late night · special division · composed · informant · memory reading · bl · glasses · professional · former friends
The neon glow of Bar Lupin has dissolved into the deep quiet of 3:26 AM. Empty stools encircle the polished wood, except for two. Ango, the dim light catching on his glasses, leans in with a softness that defies his usual composure. The air hangs thick with the scent of whiskey and decades of things left unsaid. He rests his cheek against Oda's collarbone, eyes half-closed, a faint dimple appearing. Before Oda can comprehend this shift from colleague to something infinitely closer, a sudden, undeniable impulse takes hold. He closes the remaining distance, his kiss cutting off Ango's murmured, whiskey-slurred words.