Everyone has their habits. This is a universal truth for humans; though they may try to escape the chains of repetition, they are always dragged down in some way.
Shinra bites his nails. Shizuo smokes. Izaya, himself, has his habits, among which are stomping on teenage girls' cellphones/boyfriends.
Pains him though it does to admit it, this is one of Izaya's self-proclaimed 'few' flaws, flaws which are cracks that reveal his resemblance to the precious humans he loves so much.
Bite. Scratch. Inhale, and exhale.
Izaya, though, has one greatest weakness.
His name is Shizuo Heiwajima.
1. Craving
Izaya is spinning around in his swivel chair, the world doubling around him with each kick of his feet upon the ground.
The raven is supposed to be working. He's not supposed to be thinking about perhaps taking a trip to Ikebukuro. He's not supposed to be thinking about his favorite protozoan.
His blood-flow increases just at the thought of the things he could be up to by now.
Really, bothering the monster of Ikebukuro is just too much fun. Izaya can't help himself! He lets out a maniacal little giggle at the thought. Namie glances at her boss with an undisguised look of disgust, wondering not for the first time and not for the last time why she had ever chosen to work for such a ridiculous, terrifying man.
The informant's spinning abruptly comes to a halt. He looks upon his secretary with amused carmine eyes. Though the color of them may be warm, anyone looking into the merciless man's eyes would shiver at how cold they were. "Call off any plans for the day. You may go home, Namie," He calls out, unable to resist any longer. The longing is too great.
The long haired woman grabs her things without a second glance, swiftly departing. She's glad to be out of Izaya's presence.
The raven lets out another laugh at Namie's eagerness to get away from him. He really does love humans so very much. She should love him back~!
Ah, well. She'll come around eventually.
In the mean time, a certain sex god is on his way to Ikebukuro, thinking on how he'll get his fix this time.
2. High
"Iiizaaayaaa-kun," Shizuo's voice rumbles menacingly, head snapping up as the stench of his hated enemy fills his nostrils. The citizens around him take that as their cue to get the hell out of the area, which has just now become a minefield.
Izaya smirks as he flicks and unflicks his blade. "Shizu-chan!" He gives himself away to his dear monster, watching with excitement as Shizu-chan turns around, his face deceivingly calm but for a single popping vein that gave away the rage that rushed through him.
"How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from Ikebukuro?" Shizuo spits out his cigarette. The cancer stick is abruptly crushed beneath the blond's heel, yet it doesn't satisfy the pissed off man.
He wants it to be Izaya's skull beneath his foot.
"Until you realize that you want me around!" The informant announces cheerfully. This is it, he thinks with a wicked grin upon seeing Shizuo's hand clench on a stop sign, his knuckles slowly going white.
"Get out of here."
Izaya simply stands there, smirk widening as he toys with his knife.
"Are you deaf, flea?" Shizu-chan asks darkly. "I said... GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"
The raven is laughing hysterically as he runs away from the charging blond. His heart is pounding like his feet are pounding on the pavement. This must be heaven, Izaya decides delightedly. Adrenaline courses through his veins. He's become addicted to this feeling.
Shizuo throws a stop sign at the scarlet-eyed fucker. He has eyes only for Izaya as he runs after him, never losing sight of the dark, fur-lined coat. The informant dodges it, and as he turns a corner, he risks looking over his shoulder to stick his tongue out at his pursuer.
This is their little game of cat and mouse. But really, Izaya thinks gleefully, who is the cat and who is the mouse?
A bystander would predictably answer that Shizuo is the cat, seeing as he's the one chasing and Izaya is the one being chased.
But little do they know that Izaya is the one pulling the strings. Izaya is the one luring the oblivious 'cat', acting as his catnip. His beloved Shizu-chan has no control, really, no control at all!
And that's why, as Izaya backs into an alleyway, despite appearances, he isn't trapped at all.
The infuriating smirk never leaves his face, even as Shizu-chan fists his hand in the collar of his black v-neck, nigh trembling with rage.
"I'll fucking kill you," Shizuo spits, glaring balefully into the smug auburn gaze that meets him.
"You say that, but you don't have the guts to do it," Izaya taunts, fueling the flames of Shizuo's hatred and anger.
The raven even goes so far to tilt his neck to the side, daringly inviting Shizuo to snap the delicate, pale thing. Izaya loves the exhilarating feeling that comes with toeing the line.
Yet he knows his Shizu-chan too well. Sometimes, the brute is unpredictable. Yet, other times...
A laugh bubbles out of Izaya's throat as Shizuo frustratedly throws him to the ground, unable to do it after all. The informant's expression is cruelly cold as he steps forward to place a knife to the blond's throat and a fist sharply tugging in his dyed hair.
He's never played by the rules; and thus, their checkmate is reversed.
It's in the sweat dripping down their soon-to-be naked bodies. It's in the heat that slowly consumes them. This is their high, their old habit that will die hard.
When Izaya is thrusting into the heat surrounding him, he can succumb to the illusion that he's God.
3. Satisfaction
As they lay there in the fading light, tangled up in a forgettable alleyway in Ikebukuro, Shizuo is dozing off, undeterred by the hard concrete beneath him. Izaya rests his head on the monster's chest and gazes up at him. He slowly reaches out for the knife within his jacket pocket, wondering if perhaps this will be the time he'll do it.
Shizu-chan is his marionette. Perhaps he'll cut the strings. Cut off his hand before the infection spreads.
Ah, but who is he kidding? Perhaps he's the one with no control, after all. He knows that he isn't really going to do it.
With a gleeful expression upon his face, Izaya flicks the knife closed and tucks it away once more, seduced by the delicious irony of the situation.
This is Izaya Orihara's weakness. This is his drug.
Perhaps next time, he'll really do it, he tells himself.
But until then...
Rinse and repeat~
Author's note: Hey all! This is my first Durarara fanfic, so bear with me if they're a little ooc. I'd appreciate any and all reviews, please and thank you.
Izaya: Review if you want to watch me cut Shizu-chan up! :D
Shizuo: W-what?!