Izaya and Shizuo like all other humans, need to grow old. But even when they do, their love ages along with them. [Purely implied smut.] A very short oneshot.
"I want you Izaya," the aged man croaked, lifting a wrinkled hand to caress his lover's face.
"Che. Always so impatient eh Shizuo…" Shizuo's greying partner answered, catching his wrinkled hand in his own. Wasting no more time, the once golden blonde bodyguard leaned in to catch Izaya's chapped lips with his own.
Soft gasps escaped into the night as the kiss got more heated, or, as heated as it COULD get when both parties are so easily winded. Habits are hard to break, and thus, they moved on quickly as they had during their youths. Moving with a unique swiftness formed from aching bones and sore hands, clothes were ripped off, only to lie discarded at their feet.
Chapped, wrinkled lips ran over equally wrinkled skin, pausing only to kiss old fading scars and any liver spots that it came across. The usually violent pensioner was remarkably gentle as his large hands roamed over his elderly lover's body. The once sprightly informant was now acting surprisingly meek as he enjoyed his partner's massages.
Despite the fact that the both of them are sometimes too tired to even hobble out of bed in the morning, Shizuo to the point of sometimes using a wheelchair, the two old lovebirds are strangely energetic as they ravaged one another, their croaks of pleasure echoing into the night air of the hospice. Perhaps they saved up their energy for nights such as these.
I hope you enjoyed that. It was originally written for a close friend of mine who is apparently highly amused with fics like this. In all honesty, I felt very uncomfortable writing it. Cheers.