Shoutarou had found himself in a situation most fraught with danger. Backed up against the wall he was cornered by the Dopant and Philip didn’t answer any of his desperate calls because he was preoccupied in yet another ridiculous research of his. It had been worse than the why idiots don’t catch colds incident and Shoutarou was solely to blame for.
“Hey, you’re okay?” Shoutarou asked his partner. His right arm was wrapped around the other boy’s waist while he was using his remaining arm to sit up again in a somewhat comfortable position for both of them. In retrospect, Shoutarou should have waited for Philip to get up on his own, since his other half was now sitting on his lap, slightly out of breath (most likely due to exhaustion, the recent string of Dopant attacks had taken its toll on him after all), eyes still closed and cheeks colored in a hint of rosé.
Shoutarou knew better than anyone else about his feelings. As cool and hard-boiled as he behaved (or at least tried to), he was very much aware of his feelings of affection towards his partner. Nevertheless, he told himself countless times to ignore it, to suppress it or even forget about it because of whatever reasons his brain had rightfully brought up at said time.
This was where he made a critical mistake, a grave miscalculation if you will. Because in the end, Shoutarou was only half-boiled and it was only a matter of time until he lost his self-control. And the dam had been broken alright at this moment.
Shoutarou pulled his partner back in his arms, closing whatever distance had remained between them and sealed Philip’s lips with a kiss. He didn’t hear Akiko’s shriek of surprise; in fact, he didn’t pay any attention to his surroundings at all. His head was clear but at the same time, he was unable to think of anything. He did, however, take notice of the softness of Philip’s lips, how sweet they tasted and how much warmth they radiated (somewhere in his imagination he’d always assumed a faint, cool sensation) and how darn addictive they made him feel. His mind was filled with endless carving and desire for Philip. All the harsher was the wakeup call Shoutarou received, comparable with a bucket filled with ice water, which has been poured at him, extinguishing all flames of passion.
Philip forcefully separated himself from Shoutarou, utterly taken aback. His eyes were filled with confusion, uncertainty and most of all with a hint of fright.
“Why… why did you kiss me?”
“Philip!” Shoutarou’s not so silent prayers were eventually answered. The familiar sound of Cyclone resonated in his mind, only to be answered with the also familiar sound of Joker. Feeling the presence of his partner already took a huge burden off Shoutarou’s shoulder, however, at the same time something struck him as odd. Philip was here, with him, as Kamen Rider Double, but at the same time, he felt far, far away. Shoutarou swallowed down his fears and locked any upcoming insecurity out of his heart. The fight was going to demand all of his attention and he better not mess this up.
Kamen Rider Double was able to fight off the Dopant, but he escaped once again. The case was far from over, though for now the detectives were allowed to take a breather. The real aftermath, however, began after the battle.
“It’s nothing, see?” Shoutarou moved his injured arm as freely as possible, ignoring the pain while doing so. Needlessly worrying his partner was the last thing on his mind. “Akiko patched me up all right.”
“…” An awkward and uncomfortable silence surrounded them, unbearably painful even. Shoutarou sighed, knowing full well he was going to regret his next words as soon as they left his mouth: “Look, if … if that thing is still bothering you: Forget about it, okay? I can’t take it back, but consider it never happened.”
Silence followed, Shoutarou knew a lost battle when he saw one and he had completely and utterly messed up, that much he acknowledged, and was facing consequences now. Sighing, he moved to his desk, today’s report still needed to be written.
“I don’t want to forget about it.” Philip’s voice was faint, almost non-existence. Shoutarou stopped in his tracks, unsure what he just heard was in fact reality or if his ears were playing a very cruel joke on him.
“I don’t understand it… not yet, but… I… I don’t want to forget about it.”
“What’s with that kind of answer?” Shoutarou laughed, more so at himself than his partner, and slumped back in his chair.
He felt oddly relieved, at peace even, as if the last burden had been pulled off his shoulders.
Hey, Philip? You--- nah, we are going to figure this out together.
“---we are partners, right?”