.-.-.

while she was sleeping

.-.-.

He was molesting Namie in her sleep.

Well, not really. After all, they were...consenting some time lovers would be one way to describe their relationship.

It just seemed dodgier to describe it that way. And well, he was all for doing things dodgier than as per usual like everyone else.

Namie didn't dress sexily to bed to seduce him or anything like that, since they were just using each other – her to forget about her brother presumably, while for him it was because she was quite conveniently there and also because it was a way to mess with her in regards of how unfaithful she was being to Seiji.

She did however, have this habit of falling asleep in bed while still wearing just a towel after showering. A towel that just barely covered her butt mind you, that had the globes of her breasts just jutting out of it and sometimes if her hair hadn't dried yet, trails of water would roll down invitingly into her cleavage.

Really, what kind of heterosexual man would be able to resist such a sight after a long day of pulling the strings of oblivious people because of his love for humans, planting seeds of chaos in his wake for his master plan of starting a war of epic proportions in Ikebukuro to wake up a certain dullahan's head and not to forget, avoiding projectiles thrown by a certain blonde protozoan?

Well, not him at any rate, he would shamelessly be the first to admit that.

She was difficult to awaken too, and that made it fun. He took his time in doing so, touching her in different places each time, and reveling in the way her sleeping self would react. It gave him an unfair advantage in knowing how to manipulate her body more, and although she tried not fluster in reaction to what he was doing as he put into practice what he'd learned while she was asleep, she always eventually would be unable to help herself, and he would smirk to himself at the results he got out of her.

She was more honest when she was asleep too, and simply didn't have the awareness try to hide her reactions to his caresses. He knew that if he just touched her like so, then she would arch her back slightly into him in reflex, and let out a little whimper as if unconsciously asking him for more. And if he were to ghost his lips just along her collarbone, she'd gasp and unconsciously pull him closer.

One sure fire way of waking her up though was to kiss her. Little nibbles on her lip so his tongue could enter her mouth, effectively cutting off her oxygen and forcing her to wake up.

The first time he'd done this, she had kicked him in the head when she woke and realized what he'd done, calling him a pervert while she secured the loosened towel around her and locked herself in bathroom to put her clothes on.

And he just laughed it off, because he had a feeling that she wasn't going to stop falling asleep dressed like that, regardless of what she just did.

And she really didn't, and though he was usually the one to initiate anything intimate, she would do this – and he personally thought it was her own way of initiating anything with him without having to admit to doing so.

Well, he was all for it, if it was going to lead to sex, which was what it led to these days, after several times of her kicking or punching him off and calling him a pervert the first few times.

He was after all a patient man who got results the way he wanted them to happen. And he wasn't above touching someone in their sleep if he could get to them.

He finally kissed her again this time, eyes open the whole while as he waited for her to flutter her eyes and open them to look at him with that confused, hazed expression she usually had on after one of these towel incidents, as he referred to them as.

"Na-mi-ee," he breathed out each word purposely, smirking down at her.

"...Pervert," Namie said, but it didn't have much venom in it. She knew without looking down at herself that her towel was all skewed, that her nipples were erect and that she was very wet.

And it was all because of this perverted boss of hers, who was straddling her at the moment.

"...So, did you have that good of a dream?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her.

Izaya simply laughed again after Namie socked him a good one on the cheek, as she huffed on her way to the bathroom, locking the door with a resounding click.

Well, having this sort of reaction was good too, once in a while.

It was widely known that he was a sadist, but truth was he also an equal opportunity masochist, especially if the one who did the striking was his lovely assistant Namie.

"Hey Namie, why don't we take a bath together?" he called through the bathroom door.

She refused to deign him with an answer, and he simply leaned against the door with a smug expression on his face as he imagined what she was doing on the other side of the door. She had to come out some time.

Failing that, well he did have the keys to the bathroom after all.

.-.-.

The end

.-.-.

I woke up this morning with the idea for this fanfiction in my head, literally demanding me to be written. Hopefully it wasn't too bad for my first DRR fanfic and that you guys enjoyed it ~