A/N: So this is actually a one-shot I wrote before I wrote Deal. Interesting, I suppose you could say. I was initially too lazy to edit it. But regardless, this is another Shizaya one-shot from yours truly. Hopefully, you will enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara!. If I did, I probably wouldn't be writing this...

Izaya's Idea Of Fun

It was always like this. They were always like this – one ran; the other chased. It was hardly difficult to comprehend, yet it was the one thing that Orihara Izaya didn't understand. Simply put, the one question he'd asked time and time again was why? Why did he and Shizuo bicker and fight like a bunch of kids, leaving the streets torn and tattered in their wake?

Why?

Because, the red-eyed informant told himself, it was fun. Some might find it hilarious that he considered being chased around by a madman "fun". Funny. Very funny. It almost made him laugh; the fact that he was one who spewed his love for humans and left Shizuo out of that loop was hilarious, especially when his love for being chased by him was factored in. A bittersweet relationship, indeed.

Although it was definitely more bitter than it was sweet.

Punching, kicking, clawing, scratching… stabbing…

This was Izaya's idea of fun. Even with how dangerous it was, it was this kind of entertainment that he lived for; he'd returned to Ikebukuro for just this one reason, in fact. Shizuo was a madman, and as much as he claimed to hate him, he loved him for that – for that insane strength that he had that was so appealing, yet so… dangerous, not to mention that undeniably unpredictable aggression. He loved humans. He was in love with them, in fact- the strange little creatures were just too entertaining for words. However, he was confident that Heiwajima Shizuo was not human. After all, what sort of man was even capable of lifting vending machines, much less throwing them? Not many could do that, he would admit and even fewer could yank street signs out of the cement they were embedded in and use that as makeshift lances – no one else had this sort of power.

It was thrilling, Izaya thought as the aforementioned projectile whizzed past his head, the ruby-eyed male having side-stepped out of the way.

"Izaaaayaaaa-kuuun," Shizuo hissed, stalking towards him with that all-too-familiar grin of manic anger on his face. In Izaya's opinion, it made him look positively charming, but he was certainly not Izaya's type. Not at all, he dimly noted.

"Yes, Shizu-chan?" he questioned, a sly, arrogant smile appearing on his face. He knew by the look on Shizuo's face that the way he acted so casually during these little outings agitated him to no end. With all that smugness and arrogance he displayed, he easily bet that could be the reason.

"Izaaayaaa…" The male's calls and the way he prolonged his name made him smile, oddly enough. He loved this. Loved it, loved it, loved it. As much as he hated Shizuo, he couldn't claim he hated their fighting or his strength. Not even his aggression or his unpredictability put him off. Instead, it was all that coming together that made him sick of the blond beast before him.

He was off again, fleeing at the speed of light from his one and only enemy – his one and only enemy that could match his abilities. All that power… where did it come from? One had to wonder…

"Hey, Shizu-chan," he asked whilst running, the words coming out slightly obscured by the fact that he was starting to get out of breath from all this running he did, "Can I ask you something?"

Suddenly, they both stopped running and the male with the nimbleness of a cat turned to face his rival. Shizuo's face told him to hurry up with his question, possibly before he threw something at him – namely the trash can that had somehow made it into his hands.

"Where do you get your strength from?" Izaya's question was met with a surprised but infinitely angry glare from his enemy. He raised his hands in his defense, waving them in a way that told him to cool it and was particularly surprised when the male actually spoke his answer.

"I don't know."

He stood there staring at him a moment, mouth slightly agape before he shook off the fact that Shizuo had actually just answered him with something besides getting something thrown at him. Truly, this was indeed a miracle.

Though he was slightly agitated that he hadn't gotten a direct answer.

"Hm… Shizu-chan?" He didn't look happy with the question – not at all. It was almost as if he were more upset than angry. He didn't seem to like the subject of this insane strength of his. Izaya covered up his concern with that fact by continuing, "Really? Mm, I think Shizu-chan's strength is fun."

The last thing he wanted Shizuo to know was that he, Orihara Izaya, was concerned with the wellbeing of his blond enemy. Izaya didn't like seeing Shizuo upset. As much as he liked seeing people suffer, he hated – hated – not being the cause of it. Being the man who made people suffer was his thing; he wanted to see them suffer, to cry and to scream. But he had to be the one to make them suffer. It just didn't work any other way.

Was that so wrong?

But he hated Heiwajima Shizuo. He hated him with a passion- abhorred him. But that strength… and that irresistible anger…

"Fun?" Certainly, everyone knew Izaya had an odd sense of fun. Izaya nodded, watching as the man's anger vanished, replaced by confusion. "You think it's fun?"

He hummed his agreement, smiling, "Very fun."

There was a single, silent moment in which Izaya didn't know what to do. An eerie silence had replaced the ones of destruction and when he finally found himself bored with the situation, Shizuo lurched forward. The red-eyed informant was surprised – very, very surprised – to have him leap forward so suddenly, his eyes widening to show off this fact, and he had no time to move out of the way.

Shizuo was upon him in hardly a moment, but where he had expected a fist to impact with his face, something soft pressed against his lips. Ruby-colored eyes just stared at him for a moment as realization dawned on him.

The softness that was pressed against Izaya's lips… was… Shizuo's lips.

With an instinctive yelp of surprise, he pushed the blond away, face contorting into something that was a combination of anger, surprise, confusion and… what the hell was that? No, Izaya thought. That was the only thing he could think of thinking. That had not just happened.

Or at least that's what Izaya was trying to convince himself of, getting past the initial shock of being kissed by the man he'd been fighting with until high school.

"What the hell?" Izaya demanded after a second of silence, still in a state of shock. He was surprised when there was no apparent feeling of bubbling anger; instead, there was only a faint clue of its presence.

But he didn't think that it was anger.

But then… what was it?

A strange emotion gripped him, one that he'd never felt the twist of. Or perhaps he had and he'd simply forgotten it. It originated in the pit of his stomach… like…

Butterflies.

... Butterflies.

The very concept of it almost made him tick. Even Shizuo looked confused, as if the kiss had been some sort of mistake that he hadn't intended to make. The informant didn't know what to make of it. Should he raise hell? Or should he enjoy what the blond had just done and jump him now, while he was still surprised and while he still had the chance?

The temptation was great.

Red eyes watched Shizuo carefully, watching him recover as he spoke, "I… don't know." Black brows furrows at his words. It was like the man had just jumped upon knowing that there was honestly someone who didn't fear the power that he had. Truth be told, Shizuo probably had done just that. But of course, he didn't fear his power, at least not until Shizuo's hand was wrapped around his tiny neck and he'd dropped his switchblade somewhere along the way.

That was one thing he did fear: Death. So as he saw Shizuo's rage beginning to bubble again, he leapt forward, crashing petite lips into the blond's. Shizuo seemed to be surprised at the way their little battle had progressed today. It was odd, no doubt, to kiss your enemy without thinking and then have your enemy collide their lips into yours for something longer and more heated. Izaya was already running his tongue along the other male's lower lip, asking for permission to enter.

There were few words for his shock when, instead, of being allowed entrance, a tongue shot out at him, entangling his own in a dance as they engaged in a short fight for dominance, which, of course, the blond beast easily won. And when they pulled away for air, Izaya's flat expression turned into something akin to a combination of a smirk and smile.

"Never mind," he said, his smile still evident on his pale visage, "This is fun." Something similar to a chuckle – a giggle? – escaped Izaya when the blond beast's face flushed. He almost wanted to laugh.

"Very fun."

A/N: Reviews are much loved and appreciated! Constructive criticism is equally encouraged!