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Fevered Haze

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Kaito frowned down at his young charge, poker face completely gone. Was this normal? Should he be taking the boy to a hospital? Only that morning Conan barely had any symptoms, but Kaito made him stay home and take medicine anyway. Now, only an hour before he had to leave for his heist, the six year old looked like he was dying. That couldn’t be normal.


Still trying to figure out the logistics of getting Conan much-needed help, Kaito almost missed the boy’s small voice. Not that anyone could miss those painful coughs that would make anyone’s chest hurt. The little detective grabbed Kaito’s sleeve and his hazy eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on Kaito’s face. “’M goin’. I wan’ go.” He coughed again, leaving Kaito grimacing. Even through his sleeve, Kaito could feel the heat radiating off the boy. There was no way that was normal. No matter what, he had to get Conan to a hospital.


Scooping the tiny boy up in his arms, blankets and all, Kaito dashed out of the house. Jii could replace him for this heist, a relatively simple one all things considered. It wouldn’t be a fancy one, but helping Conan trumped impressing and teasing Nakamori. Plus, it might just confuse Hakuba that Kaito actually had an alibi during this heist. Grinning down at Conan, Kaito mentally told the boy, “You’re lucky you’re cute. You’re a dangerous one to keep around little detective.” One day he’d ask his mom why she was such close friends with a detective anyway.

 


 

 

Conan blinked his eyes open, hissing at the fall of light through open blinds. His whole body felt heavy, and the sheen of sweat against his skin was thick enough he could feel it stick his limbs together. As he tried to ward off the taste of death on his tongue, Conan realized his hand was clenched tight around something. Risking the light as he gingerly unfurled his small fingers, he opened his eyes once more to see Kaito’s chest. The other boy still wore his school shirt, now rumpled from sleeping in it.


Suddenly sure he knew what he was holding, Conan glanced further down and… yep. He was holding onto Kaito tight enough to leave his knuckles white even after he splayed them out to work the blood back through stiff digits. Long arms wrapped around his small body, keeping the blanket tucked over his shoulders at least. For once, his guardian’s face wasn’t lit up with a grin or a mysterious smile. None of his array of expressions pulled at his features. Instead, Kaito slept peacefully. Like this, he looked even more like the face Conan expected to see in the mirror. It really was uncanny how alike he and Kaito looked.


The magician’s slow breaths lulled Conan back to peace and the boy curled tighter into his chest. He could still feel the last vestiges of his fever lingering behind his eyes. And who would deny a six year old this small comfort? It was nice to be taken care of, not that Conan would ever tell. Smiling, Conan fell back asleep. He may have missed this heist, but it was hard to be upset when surrounded by the magician’s warmth and the scent of roses and feathers that always lingered against his skin.


When he woke up again he would be embarrassed for acting like the child he appeared to be. Kaito would tease him and say he could be cute despite his sharp intellect. Undoubtedly, Kaito would get sick himself, his punishment for giving into a sick child’s pleading.


Conan would grumble the whole time, but still take good care of Kaito. If there was another cuddle session, neither of them would tell. Kaito never realized how comforting it was to wrap his arms around something and hold it tight. Conan never realized how safe it felt locked in someone else’s hold. Like he wasn’t alone. Another secret to keep between them.