For the prompt- I broke into your house because I was drunk as hell and now you are making me breakfast

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Mizuki replied, calmly, not even turning to see his unexpected guest, too busy focusing on stirring his pan of scrambled eggs and making sure the bacon didn't burn. He knew what he looked like anyway, he'd almost had a heart attack when he'd walked sleepily into his living room and found a random guy fast asleep on his sofa. A quick preliminary check made certain that nothing was missing and that his guest didn't seem dangerous as he drooled onto his couch cushions. His apartment door was open and he realized with a groan that he had forgotten to lock it again, he supposed his guest must have climbed in through the window or something. But either way, he didn't feel too threatened, he was much bigger and stronger than the other, deciding he'd rather wait for him to wake naturally than shake him and risk a punch to the face.

"Where am I?"

"My apartment," Mizuki answered shortly, grabbing toast as it popped up, golden brown and quickly buttering it, putting it onto two plates before piling on the eggs, bacon and grilled mushrooms. "Above Black Needle, I assume you broke in."

"Sounds about right," the other commented casually, just staring blankly at the plate Mizuki offered as if he didn't know what to do with it.

"Eat, you were drunk right? It'll help with the hangover," he essentially pressed the plate into the other's hands, rolling his eyes as he wandered to the dining table in the next room, guest following a second later.

"How d'you know I was drunk?"

"Nothing was missing and you were so fast asleep you looked dead," he remarked, pouring himself some coffee and munching on a slice of toast, regarding his unwanted guest with interest. He didn't look particularly well looked after, probably only about sixteen or seventeen, his clothes were dirty and torn and there were dark bags under his eyes, he almost looked like he slept rough, which Mizuki supposed he could. The only feature that distinguished him from any other street trash was his hair, it fell down his back in an odd mullet style cut, shorter around his face and tumbling down in bright blue strands. It was almost pretty, or it would be if it was washed and taken care of.

"Huh, can I smoke in here?" He asked, brushing off Mizuki's explanation and already removing a box of cigarettes and a cheap, disposable lighter with dirty fingernails.

"Only if you give me one," he was joking, but the other just shrugged, lighting one for himself and pushing the box across the table, watching with yellow eyes as he lit up and took a long drag, first cigarette of the day always delicious. "What's your name then, mystery break-in boy?"

"You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine," his face was clouded with suspicion and caution as he poked at a strip of congealing bacon, eyes flicking up to the bartenders curiously as he took a bite.

"That's fair enough, I'm Mizuki, and it's not poisoned, by the way." His eyebrows raised in amusement as his words were only met with a scowl, though the other still nibbled on his food almost nervously, as if it was too good to be true.

There was silence as he digested his words, hand moving in fast, almost jerky movements to pick up the slice of toast, devouring it like he hadn't eaten in days, which his collarbones showed was more than likely. "Sly."

He just nodded, thinking that people sure had weird names these days but shrugging it off, thinking quietly that Mizuki might not even be his real name since he'd been named by the orphanage staff after he'd been abandoned there as a baby.

"Is it your bar?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, I run it and the tattoo studio. We do a pretty good trade." He shrugged, he was incredibly proud of his little business, he had regular patrons and got plenty of new people on the weekends when people were looking for somewhere to have a relaxed drink before heading out to the more hectic clubs. "I don't think I've ever seen you there."

Sly shook his head, blue hair shining in the sunlight coming through the high windows, "can't afford to drink at actual bars."

Mizuki narrowed his eyes, maybe he meant he just drank at home? He had to admit it was cheaper too, and some bars on Midorijima were rip-offs, but he always tried to keep his drinks at reasonable prices, otherwise he'd lose customers and therefore profit. But he was still getting a homeless vibe from him, watching with almost mild disgust as he shoveled eggs into his mouth furtively. "Do you just get your own alcohol and drink at home then?"

Sly shook his head, looking almost amused at the bartender's innocence and barely pausing his chewing, "steal it and drink on the streets."

Mizuki almost chuckled, amused at how easily he'd admitted to his less than legal activities, respecting his honestly even if it might be a bit stupid. "Wait, you didn't break into the bar too did you?"

He seemed to take a moment to think about this, then shook his head slowly, munching slowly on his last piece of toast and lighting a fresh cigarette. "Don't think so, I might next time though."

His lips cracked further when he smirked and a tiny trail of blood ran down his chin, wiped away with a grubby sleeve, "you're joking, right?"

"Is that what you think?" He asked, eyeing up Mizuki's bacon until he pushed the plate over to him, eyes lighting up almost childishly as he ate the final rasher, hands over his stomach contentedly and eyes scanning the room curiously. "You obviously haven't heard of me then."

"Oh? You famous or something?" He asked, smirking slightly, wondering if this kid had some kind of complex or if he was the leader of some minor gang that committed petty theft and acts of meaningless vandalism. He'd run into them before and they were nearly always incredibly self-absorbed, thinking they were some kind of hero when in reality they were just pests.

"I'm the highest ranked Rhymer on the Island, Sly Blue."

Mizuki raised his eyebrows over his coffee mug, that was actually pretty impressive, "you must have quite the fan base then." He didn't know much about Rhyme, but surely it paid, contests and stuff must have monetary prizes, so then why did he look like he had nothing to his name except his clothes and those cigarettes he'd presumably stolen?

"Not exactly," he muttered almost bitterly. "I don't have a team and most people hate me, so… Hey, you don't Rhyme, do you?"

Mizuki couldn't conceal the grimace that crossed his face, technology didn't exactly elude him, but the high tech kit you needed for Rhyme was too much for him. "Nah, I prefer to do my fighting in real life."

"Ribster," He spoke knowingly, same look of dislike on his face. "What team?"

"Dry Juice, I'm the leader, actually." He tried not to look smug as he spoke, but he must have failed, Sly raising an amused eyebrow at him and making a light noise of scorn through his nose.

"Ask your team about me, they can tell you whatever you want," his eyes widened as he spoke, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray and standing, presumably done making small talk with this essential stranger.

"I should probably tell you not to break in again," Mizuki remarked, but he had a feeling that may not be very effective at all.

"Probably," Sly replied, shrugging as he pulled on his battered shoes, having presumably managed to remove them before he passed out on the strange couch. If he was hungover, it wasn't obvious, but for someone who looked so tired it probably wouldn't even be noticeable. "You gunna let me out or are you actually some kind of serial killer?"

"Do I look like a serial killer?" Mizuki asked, looking down at himself for the first time, black muscle vest crumpled with sleep and red sweat pants riding low on his hips.

"Does anyone?" Sly snorted, though he let Mizuki grab the keys to the outer door and the gate downstairs, which he now vaguely remembered vaulting.

"Good point," Mizuki remarked, not bothering to defend himself, he knew Sly didn't really think he was a serial killer, or at least he hoped he didn't… He unlocked the door to the metal stairs, cold on his bare feet as he walked down them into the crisp morning air, shivering slightly in front of the wooden gate that separated the alley where the bar's bins were stored from the main street. His fingers trembled slightly as he unlocked it, padlock heavy in his hand as Sly just regarded him with interest.

"Do you break into people's houses often or…?"

"Only the one's owned by cute bartenders," his face was mildly amused as he spoke, voice playful and Mizuki didn't even have time to laugh uncomfortably before Sly was stretching up on tip-toe, one hand on his cheek and kissing him. Olive eyes growing wide in surprise because what? He heard Sly's laugh from somewhere near his neck as he stepped back, presumably finding his expression of utter shock amusing. "Thanks for breakfast."

Mizuki got one last view of blue hair fluttering in the wind, a cheeky smile sent his way and a suggestive raise of eyebrows, then he was out of sight, blending into the shadows of the alleyway opposite and leaving the tattooist there with his mouth hanging open.

"Hey, Tio, what can you tell me about Sly Blue?" He asked casually, or tried to, hiding the curiosity that had swirled in his brain since he'd woken up with said boy unconscious on his sofa.

His friend's face twisted into a scowl immediately, "Sly Blue? He hasn't been causing trouble, has he?" he sounded almost fierce, and Mizuki wondered if this had been the reason Sly had looked so amused when he told him to ask his team, he'd suggested he had a bad reputation, but it must be bad if even Tio disliked him.

"No, nothing like that, I just… Heard someone mention him, that's all." He shrugged it off easily enough, hiding the twitch of his fingers behind the glass he was drying, hot and fresh out of the dishwasher.

"Hm, well he's not someone you want to get mixed up with, he's pretty ruthless."

"How do you mean?" He stacked the glasses neatly on their shelf, finding it difficult listening to him talking in such vague terms, he wanted specifics, what did he do that made people hate him?

"Well, when he Rhymes he crushes people, he's sent them to hospital before now, some of them never recovered, like he destroyed their brains or something." Tio's expression was honest enough and they were good enough friends that Mizuki didn't doubt his words. "He's ruthless on the streets too, he'll fight anyone, he doesn't care how badly he gets hurt. He… Well, nobody knows for sure, but that body they found last month with its throat slit, people think that was him too."

Mizuki could still remember that, there had been an unsettled atmosphere on the Island, people had moved in groups and nobody liked being out after dark, the bar had been filled with rumors and scared whispers. But to think that Sly had done it? He was only a child, surely, barely even old enough to drink let alone to kill somebody.

"How old is he?"

"Not sure, about sixteen I think? Hey, are you sure he hasn't done anything?" Tio's face was curious, tilted to one side as he drained his drink, passing Mizuki the glass so he could run the last dishwasher load of the night.

"I'm certain, his hair's blue, right?" Tio nodded, "I think I saw him once, he just looked young so I wondered. Does he not have a family or anything? Surely they wouldn't let him go round doing stuff like that?"

But what did Mizuki know about families? He'd never had one, left as a baby on the steps of an orphanage and raised there until he was old enough to leave and lucky enough to be left some money by an elderly man who befriended him.

"Nah, I don't think so, he lives in one of the warehouses in the North District. Even if he did have a family, I don't think they'd want to know, I sure as hell know I wouldn't."

The conversation ended there, Mizuki nodding and handing Tio a damp cloth, working together to finish cleaning the bar, parting at the doorway with smiles and laughter.

He didn't believe any of it, the Sly Blue Tio had described and the one he had met had been so different, he spoke of some kind of cold, sadistic maniac who went around beating the shit out of people and being generally a disgusting human. But that wasn't the Sly Blue he had met, who had shown emotion under his initial harshness, suspicion and paranoia melting away to show an almost playful side and a smile that made the dark bags under his eyes fade away.

But maybe he was wrong, maybe that had been an act and he really was the hated person his team said he was, who did what he wanted with no concern for anyone else. He thought about him a lot, whirling around at any flash of blue he saw, almost hoping for it to be his hair, to see that orange jacket and those headphones around his slim neck.

No, he didn't believe a word of the rumors that circled about him, because that kiss, that had been genuine, the almost shy expression in his eyes afterwards burned into his retinas.

So when he woke up two weeks later, pulling on some sweatpants and padding out of his room, the yellow eyes that regarded him were barely even a surprise, just raising an eyebrow at the shape on his couch.

"Best start to the day I've had in a while," he remarked, deliberately ogling his chest before shifting to kneel on the sofa, face expectant. "So, breakfast?"

All he did was roll his eyes, chuckling as he gestured for him to follow him into the kitchen, because really, he couldn't be as bad as they said. He just needed to have a word with him about breaking and entering...

Got a MizuSei, MizuSly or NoiSei prompt for me? Find me on Tumblr at- minky-way