FicWad

Authoress: Alright. So you're interested in Heiji Hattori hooking up with Shinichi/Jimmy Kudo. Good. Unfortunately, Kudo has been turned into a six year old who goes by the name of Conan Edogawa, in case you haven't heard. So, how about a little Hattori x Conan? Keep in mind this isn't totally "shouta" (children lovin') since Hattori is 17 and Shinichi is mentally 16, and it certainly isn't child pornography. It is a graphic yet tasteful tale of love, sex, and, uh, being a detective.... Yeah. So if you don't want to see sexy Hattori get it on with the loveable chibi-bodied Conan, go away. If you do, enjoy!

I don't own Case Closed/Detective Conan, and I never will. After watching the Holmes Freak Murder episode on the DVDs though, I just had to write a Hattori x Conan story. I love Hattori. This story....well....it's officially the dirtiest thing I've ever written, and I expect it's going to go mostly unappreciated by the fanfic reading public at large. Seriously, Conan and Heiji is frickin' hot....

The Shouta Fairy made me do it.


Shouta Fairy: ::winks and sticks out her tongue as she shakes her Wand of Shouta Lovin' at you::


Authoress: AH!! I can't resist Shouta Dust ! Must--write--sequel!!!

P.S. If you haven't seen the Holmes Freak Murder Mystery episode, here's a brief synopsis:

Conan signs Mori up for a Sherlock Holmes Fan retreat so he can tag along. Mori, Ran and Conan go to the retreat, but when the lodge owner turns up dead and all ties to the outside world are severed, it becomes clear one of the mystery guests is a murderer. Heiji Hattori is a guest at the retreat, there by his own admission to Ran because he thought Kudo would be on the trip. When Hattori and Conan both attempt to solve the mystery, Hattori can't help but notice Conan's incongruous age versus his intelligence and he figures out just where exactly Shinichi Kudo has disappeared to. Episode is a two-parter and has a(n unfortunately not XXX) scene with Hattori and Conan after the credits. Season 3(?) finale in translated English for Cartoon Network (which I also don't own) version.

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Finding Kudo
by Xpyne
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It was late. Ran and the old man were already asleep. Everyone with any sense was already asleep. So naturally, Shinichi was wide awake. He sighed, rolling onto his side, and adjusted his pillow for the tenth time that night. He didn't know why it was bothering him so much. It wasn't like it mattered anymore--not after tonight. But the desire was still there, the need, almost desperate. He rolled over on his other side, burying his face in his pillow and groaning. It wasn't fair. He couldn't accept it: after all he'd gone through, no one was going to grade his Sherlock Holmes Trivia Quiz! He'd spent hours doing it.

But that was actually not his most pressing concern: Hattori. That bastard knew who he was. If word got out, the Organization would hunt him down. In his defenseless form, they would kill him for sure. Or, if he outwitted them and managed to escape, they'd go after Ran and the old man. Not that he cared too much about the old man, and Ran could kick ass any day, but still... He didn't want them caught up in the middle of his freak show. There was a difference between taking care of yourself and taking care of those you care about. He might be trapped in this body, but he was still Shinichi Kudo.

Shinichi rolled onto his hands and knees and punched his pillow viciously in rapid succession until he was out of breath, which, to his annoyance, was pretty soon. Stupid six year-old muscles. Hadn't he spent years training and working out so he would never feel this weak? Stupid Hattori. That smartass thought this was funny: threatening to tell Ran, smirking at him, lording his power over Conan's head.

"Have you heard from Kudo lately, Ran?" he'd asked, staring at Conan as he said it. And the way Ran's eyes had gone dark and determined, the way she'd answered, "No," before grabbing Hattori by the collar. Yanking him half out of his chair and using her scary voice was sobering, to say the least. "You say that like you know something, Hattori-san. Hohoho. But that can't be right, because I know you would have told me if you did. Right?" she'd added, tightening her grip. Hattori had nodded dumbly and shut the hell up for a while, thankfully.

Scary Ran was going to freaking murder him when she eventually found out, straight up. There was no way he was going to be able to come up with any kind of cover story that made the least bit of sense to keep this from her. Not that "men in black turned me into a chibi" made much sense, either. Why did Hattori have to figure it out?

Shinichi climbed off of his futon and smoothed his rumpled oxford. He hadn't even bothered to change for bed in all the excitement. Yawning, he slipped on the too-big house shoes and out of habit, his overly large spectacles, and padded out of the room. Maybe a walk would clear his head. He paused at the door and glanced back at Ran's sleeping form.

"Conan-kun, I know you're mature for your age, and you don't, I mean--well--I just...I..."

Shinichi had stared blankly at her. What was she trying to say? Ran laughed, scratching the back of her head.

"If you ever do get scared, you can come over here with me, got it? I'll be your big sister, if you want."

Shinichi hung his head, closing the door behind him. Why did she have to make him feel like such a heel? Was lying to her about his true identity and making her worry while playing the part of an innocent child living in her home to protect her from mobsters really so despicable?! Why did Hattori have to be on this trip? He wasn't even a true Holmes fan! Shinichi paused. That was actually a good point. Why was Hattori here?

Shinichi noticed blandly that he had reached the dining room. Resolutely, he pulled a chair out from the table and pushed it across the floor and into the kitchen. Climbing on top of it, he scaled the counter top and stretched on his tip toes to get a clean glass from the cabinet. He couldn't reach. Scowling, he tried again, grunting from the effort. Damn it all. He wanted a glass of water. Leaping, he caught the bottom shelf of the cabinet and swung a skinny leg up to pull himself level. He snagged a glass and tossed it behind him before diving off the wall cabinet and landing hard on slippered feet. His hand shot out and caught the cup as it came hurtling down. Smirking, he dragged the chair across the kitchen to the opposite counter where the sink was located and climbed up once again, to triumphantly claim his drink. ...Or at least he would have, had he not also been too short to reach the faucet. His face became a set of deeply annoyed horizontal lines and he slumped. He was about to attempt a daring offensive on the sink when a large hand clamped onto his back.

"Haa--" Shinichi yelped. The hand lifted him by his suspender straps as another reached forward to turn on the tap. "Hattori," he deadpanned scathingly, with as much dignity as a sixteen year old detective in a six year old's body being held up by his strappy suspenders could manage. Nevertheless, he held his glass under the stream of water.

"Heh. You know, it's creepy to hear your voice coming out of this little guy."

"You know, it's creepy to have you leering all over me."

"I'm not leering!" Hattori scowled and dropped Conan unceremoniously to the floor. Water sloshed down his front.

"'K!" Shinichi brushed at the wet spot that soaked his oxford and shorts front and shivered. "It's cold, you jerk." He sipped quickly at the remainder of his beverage, glaring at the Westerner over his glass. Hattori stepped back to lean against the counter, his elbows supporting him. He titled his head up in an unconcerned manner.

"Anou," he smiled. "If it's ruined, I will buy you a new one." His eyes slid down slyly to regard the tiny detective. "They carry your size at Baby Gap?"

"...."

Hattori only just managed to catch the empty glass that went hurtling towards his head. He stuck it on the counter and followed the chair Conan was dragging back into the dinning room.

"Sumimasen, Kudo. [Excuse me/I'm sorry,]" he apologized earnestly, a half smile still playing on his lips.

"Leave me alone," a voice from behind the chair demanded. "And don't call me that."

"Kudo, you mean? I'd have thought it'd be good to hear yourself again," Hattori retorted loftily.

Shinichi shoved the chair he'd used back in place at the table, gripping it tightly with one hand. The darker boy was, of course, right. Shinichi had been Conan Edogawa for so long, sometimes it was hard to remember being Shinichi Kudo, world's greatest teenage detective. But it was also difficult to be faced with whom he had been pretending not to be all this time. Who he wanted to be.

Hattori gave him a shrewd look. "Just how long have you been like this, anyway? Tell me."

"....Five months," the boy answered darkly.

"Five /months/!?"

"Be quiet! You'll wake everybody!" Shinichi hissed. His head dropped, long bangs shading his eyes.

"Fft--/five months??/" Hattori repeated in whisper-yell, eyes wide. "That's rotten. Tell me how you-- Oi." The teen dropped to one knee beside the smaller male. "Let it go, Ku--"

"Conan."

"Let it go, Conan." A large tan hand came over Conan's much smaller one. It gently coaxed diminutive fingers from their death grip on the back of the chair. Hattori regarded the child's hand cupped in his own, covered in blood and bits of broken glass. It was the same chair that had been used earlier to shatter the window. "Sumimasen."

"....It's nothing." Shinichi looked away from Hattori defiantly. Nevertheless, he looked pitiful, in his wet schoolboy uniform, with his bloodied palm, over-sized glasses and over-sized slippers. Hattori almost smiled.

"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."


oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Hattori whistled. "If I wasn't looking at you, I'd never believe it."

"No one asked you to believe it; all I ask is that you keep your big mouth shut about it," Conan sniffed, picking at the bedsheets with his free hand. His other hand was occupied in Hattori's lap, where the larger teen was delicately removing shards of broken glass. They were sitting on Hattori's queen size guest bed, where the much taller boy had dutifully gone to work on Conan's hand as Shinichi told the story of what had happened to him.

"Though, I knew there was something fishy about that Detective Mori. 'K. Stealing credit from a six year old."

"I'm not really six!!"

"Right," Hattori answered rather quickly, his fingers tightening marginally on Conan's thin wrist. It was difficult to tell through his tan, but Shinichi almost imagined that Hattori was /blushing/. But even to Kudo's brilliant mind, that didn't quite make sense. What reason would Hattori have to blush?

The darker boy wrapped a bandage over his palm, his long fingers skating over Conan's hand with determination. He finished, still retaining his grasp. Staring at the nice, neat little package he'd made of Shinichi's wound, his lips curved upward slightly in a smirk. Hattori's eyes flicked up to meet Conan's.

"Anou, now it's your turn to explain," Shinichi broke the silence, pulling his hand from the other's. He flexed his child's hand experimentally, examining it to avoid meeting an intense blue stare. The atmosphere had charged so rapidly; one could cut the tension with a knife.

"Explain what? I already told you how I figured it out; you may be a great detective, Kudo, but you're no actor. 'It would be possible,' ha, it would be impossible for any who know you to miss it," Hattori grinned.

"Ran hasn't figured it out," Shinichi countered, feeling defensive for some reason. "Well, actually she did, but I convinced her to believe what she saw over what she thought she felt."

"Well, some people aren't so easy to convince."

"Yeah, I noticed."

"Some people know what they feel."

"What are you doing, Hattori?"

"......."

Hattori had moved into his personal space, crawling on his hands and knees until he'd forced Conan back onto his elbows. A long, tan finger hooked the first button of Conan's white dress shirt that clung to his chest. Shinichi's breath hitched and he froze. Hattori tugged on it until it gave.

"You should really take that thing off..."

Conan's eyes bugged so huge his glasses slipped down his nose and he blushed furiously.

"EXCUSE ME??!?"

"...it's all wet and Ran will kill me if you catch a cold." Hattori flopped back on the bed, folding his hands behind his head and smirking in the most irritating way. "She didn't handle it too well last time you got sick."

Conan grumbled, "I wasn't sick; I was poisoned." He crossed his arms over his chest protectively. It wasn't like Hattori had any of THOSE kinds of ideas. Of course he didn't. Shinichi was Conan now: a child. But hadn't Hattori implied he saw Kudo through the façade? "That's not what I meant, anyway."

Hattori looked up, smirk gone for the moment. "What's not what you meant?"

"I said it was your turn to explain: as in, what are you doing here?"

"Oh." Hattori propped himself up on one elbow. "Looking for you, of course," he said slowly. "Haha, I know what a big mystery geek you are! I figured you'd be here for sure. And of course, I was right, wasn't I?"

Conan's hands went to his hips. "Anou, you don't seriously expect me to believe you did all the Holmes research necessary to fill out a registration good enough to pass the amateur screening and make it to this retreat just to find me? Hundreds of real fans apply for this tour annually, so it'd have to be beyond perfect. What are you really after?"

"You. Like I said," he replied simply. After a moment, he continued. "They call me 'the Shinichi Kudo of the West', you're a legend--even more so for your mysterious disappearance. I couldn't compete with someone who isn't there. I can't prove myself against a ghost." Hattori's eyes narrowed. "And then I found you, even got you to see me as a serious rival, an equal, and you disappeared again. I couldn't let you get away so easily." Shinichi regarded the other warily.

"Our rivalry means that much to you?"

"I had my father contact every police station in the country. No one had heard a word of you or any secret missions for at least two months! I suspected foul play, but neither your parents nor Ran had filed a missing person's report. Even your school had received instructions to send work to your house. I knew Shinichi Kudo was contacting /somebody/. I had to find you again." The brunette smiled easily. "It seemed nobody else was looking."

Shinichi turned his face aside and willed himself to stop blushing. "What a baka."

Hattori face-planted. "What do you mean, 'baka'?!" he demanded indignantly. "You should be grateful and humbled by my quest for Detective Kudo!" he declared jumping up onto his knees and striking a dramatic stance.

"Yeah, right."

A wet button-down smacked the Shinichi Kudo of the West in the face.

"You got a spare shirt or something?"

Hattori pulled the sopping garment off his face and shook water droplets from his bangs. He stared down at the shirt for a moment, then glanced over at Conan. The boy's suspenders hung down to his knees, and without their support his blue shorts were low on his hips. He was already hopping down from the bed and rooting through bureau drawers without permission, his bare back to the taller teen on the bed.

"I don't keep any extra small tees around, haha."

Conan paused to throw a dirty look over his shoulder, before climbing up the staircase of drawers he'd made. "Something that fits your scrawny frame should work," he shot back coolly. He opened his mouth and was about to ask disparagingly about the pink silk boxers he'd found in the top section when he turned to find himself nose to nose with the owner of said undergarment.

"You can't borrow /those/," he remarked, not breaking eye contact. The words washed over Conan's lips in a rush of heated breath first, followed then by comprehension. He blinked behind owl spectacles.

"Like I'd want to. Ew." Hattori's proximity was putting him on edge. Hadn't this guy ever heard of personal space??

"Are you cold?"

"No," Shinichi responded petulantly, at which point a shiver raked through his body. The air was actually a bit too warm, if he thought about it, which he was, but that didn't seem to be stopping his trembling or the rise of goosebumps over his flesh.

"No? Well then I guess I'll forget about getting you that shirt."

Conan's hands clenched, resisting the urge to hug them over his bare torso. He wasn't going to be the one to back down. "Fine. It's your shirt. (Even if you are the reason my shirt is all wet.)"

"........" Hattori broke the staring contest, allowing his eyes to slide down to Conan's damp, naked chest. Shinichi suddenly felt acutely embarrassed, and acutely aware that his nipples were hard. He spied a clean shirt in Hattori's hand and grabbed for it, pushing the larger boy away roughly. Hattori sprawled at the foot of the bed, and as his grip on his spare tee shirt was firm, Conan came tumbling after.

"Itai itai! [It hurts, it hurts!]" Conan whined, sitting up and cradling his injured hand.

"Lemmie see," a Kansai accent commanded from below him.

Shinichi looked down to see he was sitting on the Westerner. Hattori plucked Conan's wrist from his grasp and yanked it to his own eye level, causing the small boy to fall flush against him with a "foof!" A faint red mark had blossomed on the white gauze. Hattori inspected it with exaggerated concern, seemingly heedless of the miniature detective scowling at him.

"Hmmm....." the darker boy murmured and he buried his chin against his chest so he could see Conan's startled face. "Gomen, Kudo. It's going to have to be amputated." [Sorry]

Shinichi rolled his eyes and propped his chin up on his free hand. "Sou ka?" he drawled, the mature tone clashing oddly with his young appearance. [Is that so?]

"Un..." [Yeah...] Hattori reached up with his other hand and pulled Conan's glasses from his face. "You look more like Kudo this way," he commented, his voice low and intense. Shinichi swallowed.

"....That was kind of the point. Disguise, you know?" Shinichi lowered his arm from under his chin and laid it across Hattori's collar bone. Hattori still held his other wrist, keeping him dangerously close.

"Did you look just like this ten years ago?" the taller detective breathed.

"Yeah. Pretty much." Shinichi swallowed nervously.

"Yeah?" Hattori rose onto his elbows, sliding Conan down his chest in the process. The friction made the smaller boy reign in a shudder. Things he'd felt all the time as a healthy sixteen year-old boy were foreign and heady in this form. Had he forgotten so easily what it was like to be so close to something? Hattori was smirking at him again. And he still had his wrist. Conan closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. "...Then maybe this isn't so terrible of me after all," Hattori mumbled.

"What isn't so--" Conan began.

Hattori cut him off with the seal of his lips. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, he shifted Shinichi into his lap, a hand quickly sliding to the base of Conan's head to hold him in place. Shinichi was frozen, blood pounding in his ears. Silken lips slowly retreated.

"Kudo..." he exhaled, feathery kisses descending onto the corner of Conan's lips and his jaw. "I know you're in there," he whispered fiercely. He moved slowly down to the sensitive juncture of neck beneath the ear. Conan's head tilted back of its own accord. "I won't forget you so easily."

"Ha-hattori," Shinichi managed. The tanned boy pulled back a bit until he could see Shinichi's expression. The boy's eyes were wide and darkened, his lips kiss-swollen. "I--I'm not--" The small boy took in a gulp a air. When had he stopped breathing? "...I'm stuck in this body; you understand that, right?"

"Hai. Kudo is Kudo." [Yes.]

For a moment blue eyes simply locked onto blue eyes. Then Hattori leaned down slowly, until those lips of his were millimeters from Conan's. He waited, his long, slender hands fisting, one in the soft hair at the nape of Conan's neck and the other at his hip. Shinichi pressed his mouth against Hattori's, his arms flying up to wrap around the teen's neck. Hattori's tongue slid slickly into Shinichi. The smaller boy slanted his lips against the invasion, inviting him deeper. For this moment, the gravity of his situation could wait.

Hattori gasped wantonly, his large hands sweeping up Shinichi's pale sides. He scooped the smaller detective up under the armpits and rolled onto his knees. He carried Conan to the bed, tossing him on it before covering him with his much larger frame.

A wet, warm tongue snaked down his torso. Shinichi moaned, and immediately blushed. His voice was so....high pitched. Hattori was smirking at him again, he could just feel it. But his tongue never ceased its laving, and when it swirled inside his navel, Conan's body arched, his heels digging into the mattress.

"Kuso," he swore. He had never felt so light-headed. Hattori was hardly doing anything, just running his warm, wet muscle up and down and up and down, occasionally dipping into the very uppermost edge of his shorts. But Shinichi felt arousal spike through him like a thing on fire. It was as if his diminutive size had caused his nerve endings to double up so everything could fit in him, which didn't make too much sense, really, but Hattori was trying Shinichi's brilliance right now. Heat pooled in Conan's groin and he groaned. It was happening too fast, everything was building up with near nauseating acceleration, his hands clenched, his body clenched, everything was too intense, he shuddered, Hattori wasn't letting up, his tongue raked roughly across a dusky nipple--and suddenly Conan sagged in relief.

It took him a disoriented moment to realize what had happened. He blinked, taking a deep breath to try and clear the haze swallowing his mind. Hattori was....laughing at him?

"I suppose I should take it a little easier on you," the dark brunette smiled. "Six year olds aren't exactly known for their stamina." Shinichi blushed.

"I'm fucking more mature than you, Heiji," he grumbled without any venom. Hattori allowed him to lie bonelessly for all of another ten seconds before nosing his chin, turning Shinichi's face up towards him. "....(give me a second or two.)"

Hattori grinned. "One, two," he counted before descending on the smaller boy. He engaged him in a slow, methodical thrusting of tongues, fingertips sliding down to seek an erect nipple. He rolled the flesh between two fingers, tugging gently. Shinichi groaned, his thighs squeezing together as he shifted to offer Hattori better access to his compact frame.

"Aah--" he made a face, even as Hattori pleasured him, at the feel of the wetness in his shorts. How was he going to explain this one to Ran? 'I wet the bed' was NOT an option. Oh shit. Ran. Shinichi's eyes flew open. "What--what if someone notices I'm gone?" he panicked, nearly speaking into Hattori's mouth. The taller boy trailed a hand down to the waist of Conan's shorts, his mouth moving to work the tender skin of Conan's neck.

"Mmmm. Let them worry," he murmured, long fingers curling over the edge of navy cotton. He tugged. Conan squirmed, to stop or to encourage, he didn't even know. Self-consciousness crept up to color his cheeks.

"Ah..." he swallowed nervously. At age sixteen, he was proud to feel, if not extremely well, at least decently endowed. At age six, it was a different story. Hattori undid the hook and button of his uniform shorts, and slowly drew the zipper down his inseam. Shinichi tensed.

"Relax, Kudo. I've been searching for you, remember?" Shinichi nodded, holding his breath. Hattori looped his hands in the red tensile strength of his suspenders and dragged the shorts they were clipped to off of Conan's legs, tossing them aside. He snorted.

"....You don't seem the type to go commando," he noted.

"Well, jeez, it's not like I saved my tighty whiteys from first grade, and there's no way in hell I'm asking Ran to buy me underwear," he huffed, feeling considerably put out.

"Maybe you can borrow my boxers after all."

"Oh shut your--ohh--" Conan inhaled sharply through his nose as Hattori's hand cupped him.

"Do you like that, Kudo-chan?" Hattori breathed huskily, pressing gently against him. "Do you want more?" Shinichi's brow furrowed before he nodded dumbly. Hattori pressed harder, grinding his palm against Conan.

The small brunette clenched the bedsheets, feeling himself harden. It was such a strange sensation after five months of total abstinence. Within minutes Hattori had brought him to the edge and backed off again numerous times. Conan groaned, rocking his hips to meet the other boy's tortuous attentions. Pleasure washed over him in tangible waves and he thrust up again. God, it was like "discovering himself" all over again. Only...it was Hattori touching him, Hattori controlling him, Hattori tightening the erotic pleasure in his stomach, Hattori worshipping his body, even though it was like this and not the sexy, world famous one that grade school girls fantasized about. He continued to thrust wantonly until Hattori ceased rubbing him and held his narrow hips to the bed.

"Ha--/Heiji/," he moaned in frustration. Hattori's elbow knocked Conan's legs wider, spreading them so he could settle between them. A warm mouth trailed its way up Conan's inner thigh, nipping at the pale virgin skin. Conan gasped, throwing his head back. Gently, Hattori's tongue drew all of Shinichi into his mouth. The smaller boy cried out. His breath grew faster and louder, the moans escaping with every ragged exhalation. Desire coursed through him, the desperate urge to thrust and increase the sensation made him struggle to jerk his hips but Hattori held him tightly. The dark brunette's head bobbed up and down, working the delicate boy's arousal vigorously. Shinichi couldn't care anymore about his dignity at this point, letting the desperate, breathy moans escape and fuel Hattori. "Ah--please!! Heiji!" His body shuddered against the small explosion inside his lower stomach and sat up halfway with a silent groan, his second orgasm curling his toes so badly they felt cramped. He flopped back onto the mattress with a sigh, but Hattori still didn't release him. "Heiji?" he asked weakly. The Westerner's only response was to continue sucking him.

Shinichi was exhausted. His child's body wasn't used to this much stimulation. It was overwhelming. He groaned, feeling a pleasant fatigue settle over his body like post-orgasmic delirium. Or maybe that was the stirrings of something else. Shinichi lifted his head to stare doubtfully at Hattori. He didn't know what the other boy was thinking, but he was pretty sure after all that, nothing more was going to be going on down there. He watched Hattori work for a while with mild interest. Actually, watching Hattori work him was pretty hot. Conan's eyes widened. What did he know, it looked like there was going to be a second encore after all. He groaned, feeling the lust swelling his nether regions once more. Every nerve in his body was going into overdrive. This was really too much, he thought dreamily.

Once Conan was hard and aching again, Hattori drew back with a smirk. The shorter boy panted, lying spread eagle and staring at him with something akin to desperate desire. Hattori peeled his tee shirt over his head and threw it over his shoulder.

"I think you're properly warmed up now. Time for the real action," Hattori licked his lips. Shinichi gaped. The dark skinned Japanese teen rose up onto his knees to pull off his loose pajama pants. Shinichi's breath came quicker as he stared at the huge tent straining in the confines of Hattori's boxers. A large spot in the front was soaked with Heiji's pre-arousal, making Shinichi swallow in nervous excitement. Hattori removed his boxers. His erection sprung free, swaying slightly. Shinichi flushed at its magnificence. But there was no way. That was fitting. Anywhere.

"You're kidding, right?"

Hattori's expression fell into a deep set of horizontal lines, from his dark brows to the thin line of his mouth. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Shinichi gulped. "Uh, no?"

Hattori grinned. "That's right, Kudo; prepare to be thoroughly fucked." Shinichi's protests were cut off by a long finger pressing into his mouth. Hattori's other hand rummaged in a nightstand somewhere out of Shinichi's line of sight. Even as the slender digit pumped in and out of Conan's mouth, Hattori's free hand was unscrewing the top of a tube of what looked like lube.

Conan pushed Hattori's hand away from his face and sweatdropped, staring at the lube.
"You really were planning this, weren't you? You dirty pervert," Conan mused appraisingly.

"Damn straight. (About the plan, not the perversion. I'm no pervert, grrr. )"

Conan snorted. "You know what this would look like if anyone walked in?" Conan switched to his most innocent, high pitched voice, "Ne, ne, Hattori-san, give it to me already!"

"Shut up! (You make me feel like a pedophile...)," Hattori flushed and quieted Conan's snicker with a kiss. Shinichi gasped, body shuddering as a single digit pressed against his opening. He bit down on Hattori's lower lip, tugging the soft skin between his lips. Hattori's breathing was heavy and excited as he slid a lubricated finger deep into the six year old body of the man of his dreams.

"God..!" Shinichi felt taut and drawn. His good hand clenched Hattori's tan back, his bandaged one fisting in the bed sheets. Hattori was spreading him wider, pressing his thighs apart, and he twitched. Cool liquid contrasted incitingly with his feverish flesh, drawing groans from the small boy, before it warmed to match his heat, blurring the distinction of where Conan ended and Hattori began. Just one finger and he already felt stretched and raw. His tongue battled sloppily with Hattori's, swirling and sucking anywhere in the general vicinity of the dark, handsome teen's mouth. Hattori's free hand slid underneath Conan to knead his small behind and relax him.

"Nnnh..." Hattori groaned, attacking Conan's neck with his lips and teeth. As his finger slid coaxingly in and out of the diminutive boy, his own hips ground weakly against the mattress. He had been waiting so long for this, for Shinichi. Slowly, he worked a second finger into the soft body beneath him. Conan cried out, tears gathering in the corners of his clenched eyes.

"Ittaitaitai!" he hissed. Hattori pressed open mouth kisses to the boy's slender chest.

"Did you ever--before--?"

"No," Shinichi gasped quickly. Hattori flinched. Alright. That was going make this a little more difficult. But then again, the idea of knowing something Kudo didn't pleased Hattori. World famous detective. Teenage genius. Delicate anal virgin. Hattori grinned against Conan's pale skin. His other hand slid up to scratch Conan's stomach. He angled his fingers as they drove into the small boy's entrance, striking the bundle of nerve endings within. Shinichi quivered and opened like a flower, melting into the teen's erotic onslaught.

"That's more like it," Hattori panted, scissoring his fingers to press the advantage he'd won. The soft, wet noises of Hattori's hand mingled with their labored breathing. The taller brunette raised himself up onto one elbow, gazing down at the boy below him. It was a child's body, a child's voice: but the sharp intelligence of his face, even slackened in passion, and the brilliant color of his mature eyes, glazed with lust, was Shinichi Kudo. Hattori felt himself growing impossibly harder, fighting with the impatience of his body that was currently trying to make love to the mattress without his permission. He slid a third finger into Conan.

The diminutive detective cried out again, his hand shooting down to clutch Hattori's muscled forearm as it invaded his depths. The tanned teen paused. "You alright?" Shinichi nodded after a beat.

The minutes stretched by. Hattori didn't know how much longer he could wait. He had to make sure Kudo was ready though. With the young, untrained state his body was in, Hattori could really hurt the other boy if he wasn't careful.

It was almost embarrassing to be getting this hot over a six year old kid. He tried to convince himself it was only Kudo's incredibly sexy mind that interested him, but the rush running through his veins as he dominated Conan was undeniable. His hand drove further into the boy. Shinichi raised his ass higher to receive him as Hattori finger-fucked the other detective. Judging by the moans escaping his quest's throat, Hattori decided this was as loose as he was going to be able to get the smaller male. He grabbed a small square of plastic he'd had ready at hand and ripped it open with the aid of his teeth. He slipped the latex on, stroking himself rapidly with a well-oiled fist.

"Here I come, Kudo," he warned, grabbing his lubricated shaft and guiding it into Conan. He slid in smoothly halfway before encountering resistance. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he grabbed Conan behind the knees pressed them forward, folding the boy in half in an attempt to spread him even further. Shinichi gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He wrapped his thin arms around Hattori's neck and Hattori's large, strong hands wrapped around the backs of his slender thighs, nearly spanning the circumference of his skinny legs. Hattori's hips rolled forward, burying himself deeper and harder into the diminutive boy. Tears streamed from the corners of Conan's clenched shut eyes, catching on his dark lashes. The tanned teenager gently licked the salty trickles away, waiting for Conan to adjust. After what seemed an eternity, bleary blue eyes cracked open.

"......"

"Daijoubu," Shinichi breathed, blinking away the last of his tears. [I'm okay.] Hattori stayed still a moment longer, not trusting himself to move yet. Finally, he withdrew partially and pressed back into the boy. Hattori moaned loudly. Even after all that preparation, the boy's young body was still so tight as to almost be painful. Velvety walls clenched and squeezed every inch of his weeping hard-on.

"Oh, yes," Hattori groaned, angling his next thrust to bring stars to his diminutive lover's eyes. Conan seized up in ecstasy, letting out a low noise of passion. Hattori grinned, repeating the action. He leaned low, flicking his tongue over the shell of Conan's ear. "You make me like you so much," he whispered. Conan grinned.

"You're, ahh, not so....bad, yourself," he divulged, pulling the dark teen even closer. Hattori gripped the bedsheets for better leverage and drove solidly into the miniature detective. Shinichi groaned as Hattori picked up the pace, pounding into him with further abandon. The bed began to shake and thump against the wall, which almost made Shinichi either laugh or worry, but both thoughts were driven from his mind as Hattori found that spot deep within him and hammered against it without mercy. Shinichi tried pitifully to hold back a scream. Hattori's hand clamped over his mouth.

"Unh, someone's going to think another murder's taking place..." he grunted, sweat rolling down his temple. He plunged into Conan repeatedly, his arousal pulsating under the strain. The heavy, coiled sensation in his gut was tightening. Hattori was so close; he'd never been so hard in his life, he felt like any second something was going to give, and then he'd fall into---Conan bit his hand with a muffled sob, his inner walls seizing up around Hattori. Hattori let out a cry of his own and orgasmed under the intense grip Shinichi had him in, waves of ardent desire flooding his senses.

Heiji collapsed on top of Conan, a long, satisfied groan escaping his lips. After a moment, he became aware of little hands shoving weakly at him and squirming from beneath him. He rolled off of Conan. The small boy panted.

"You're heavy," he accused.

"Gomen," Hattori smiled lazily, pulling Conan to him. The diminutive boy smiled sleepily, resting his head on the tanned teenager's chest. He yawned and curled into the larger boy's embrace, settling. "Oh no you don't," Hattori exclaimed.

"What?" Shinichi murmured, closing his eyes.

"You can't sleep in here. How the hell would we explain that in the morning, hmm?"

"But I'm comfortable," Shinichi replied, as if that settled the matter. Hattori sat up, knocking Conan off his chest. "Nunnnh," Shinichi protested eloquently. The tanned boy threw his feet over the side of the bed and stood, stretching his back. He gathered Conan's belongings and house slippers, pretending he was unaware of the large blue eye that had cracked open to watch him bend over in the nude. He strolled back to the bed with a smirk on his face.

"Come on," Hattori coaxed. "You have to putter on back to Ran's room or she's going to find you missing and come looking for you--" As if on cue, someone banged on the door.

"!!" Hattori grabbed Conan and shoved him and his clothes under a pillow. He clambered into the bed and threw the blanket over himself just as the door was thrown open.

"Hattori-san?! Are you alright?"

Hattori sweatdropped, trying is best to look innocent and sleepy, despite the burning in his cheeks. "H-hai," he yawned. "Is something the matter?"

"Yes, Conan's missing--!" Ran broke off, eyes widening as she took in the state of Hattori's room, namely dresser drawers all thrown open and his clothes (including bright yellow boxers) strewn about, before her eyes darted back to Hattori, who was looking particularly rumpled and squirming guiltily in his wrinkled sheets. ".....Um, I heard, um, some noises coming from your room, and, uh, since you solved the case, I was worried maybe an accomplice..." She trailed off.

"Ah, haahaahaa, no! I'm fine! I just had a bad dream, you see," Hattori offered quickly. "Thrashing around, yelling, you know, that sort of thing. Heh, had 'em ever since I was a little kid--nightmares, that is." Hattori knew he was blushing horribly. A small finger jabbed his behind and he nearly jumped out of skin. "Ah! Uh, you said the brat was missing?"

"Oh, yes, Conan-kun is gone!" Ran repeated adamantly, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Would you help me look for him? I already checked the kitchen, dinning room, bathroom, and garage. I'm really worried. You know how he likes to play detective," she added.

"Uh, sure...." At Ran's expectant look, he added, "Just, um, give me a minute to get dressed."

"Oh! Right." Blushing, she stepped back and shut the door.

"Shimate." [Shit.] Hattori lifted the over-sized pillow beside him, to reveal a frowning boy curled up beneath it. Hattori made a shushing gesture with his finger and promptly started stuffing Conan's arm into the wrong sleeve of his still sopping wet oxford. Shinichi pushed him away and gestured to his own nakedness, raising an eyebrow at the latex still covering the taller detective. Hattori took the hint and quickly cleaned himself up while Conan threw on his clothes. As soon as Shinichi had pulled up his suspenders and started fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, Hattori appeared beside him fully dressed. The Western detective grabbed him and hauled him over to the window.

"What are you doing!?" Conan hissed. Hattori stuck his spectacles on his face.

"Gomen, Kudo, but she already knows you're not in the lodge," he whispered.

"What? Huh? Noo!" He argued, but Hattori had already thrown open the window and tossed him out into the night.


Twenty minutes later, Conan was swathed in a clean, fluffy robe, and securely wrapped in Ran's arms, explaining how he'd just gone out for a walk because he couldn't sleep and had ended up falling down a nearby river bank. Detective Mori was glaring at the kid for disturbing his sleep, Ran was hugging the life out of the little boy, and a few other guests who'd been enlisted in the quest for Conan hung around the living room, offering the occasional, "Good thing Hattori-san found him down there," "Ought to keep a better eye on that kid," or "He's alright, isn't he?"
Hattori had almost choked when Conan had asked Ran to carry him, because he didn't think he could walk anymore.

Seeing the way the girl stroked Kudo's damp bangs from his face and smoothed his hair back with such tenderness elicited a strange feeling in the dark skinned Japanese teen. Did she really not know it was Kudo inside that boy? He turned and slipped away from the group to return to his empty room until morning, when they could all finally get out of here. He was at the end of the darkened hallway when her voice stopped him.

"Hattori-kun?"

He paused, but did not look in her direction.

"I...just wanted to say thank you. We both do, right Conan-chan?" Hattori inclined his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Conan skulking by her calves.

"Thank you, Hattori-san, for finding me," he recited dutifully, in that voice that was too serious and too mature to be a six year old child's. Their eyes met briefly in a flash of understanding. Hattori smiled.

"No problem."

He continued to his room without incident, wondering when he'd get a chance to meet up with the great detective again. Ran may have Conan's heart, but Shinichi Kudo was his.


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