Title: When My Time Comes
Author: Neko-chan
Fandom: Durarara!
Rating: T
Pairing: Izaya/Shizuo; Shizuo/Izaya
Disclaimer: Not mine~
Summary: When Izaya dies, there are many things that he expects—oblivion and/or Hell being on the top of the list. He does not, however, expect to run into Shizuo Heiwajima.
Author's Note: Dedicated to Ruka~ She's been feeling ill lately, so hopefully this will cheer her up a little bit. -hearts-
Prompt from the drrrkink meme: Izaya/Shizuo - death, afterlife, memories
www[dot]youtube[dot]com/watch?v=LBTXNPZPfbE
Izaya dies and comes back to consciousness in an in-between place (Purgatory, maybe?). Shizuo, who had died years before, is there waiting for him and has been waiting all of this time.
I want something quiet, bittersweet, reunion of sorts, memories, and both moving on to whatever the afterlife might bring. Together.
When My Time Comes
Don't be afraid
I've taken my beating
I've shared what I've made
I'm strong on the surface
Not all the way through
I've never been perfect
But neither have you
- "Leave Out All The Rest" by Linkin Park
:
"No. No, not yet. I'm not ready."
It doesn't matter if you're ready or not. It's still your time.
"Please, Celty. I don't want to die!"
The last thing that Izaya had been cognizant of was the sharp pain in his chest as his heart slowed the steady rhythm that it had maintained for decades-quieting its beat, the organ growing more and more sluggish until it finally stopped all together. The moment that it paused and did not resume was the most terrifying moment that Izaya had ever experienced: despite the close calls that he had suffered from over the years, it was only now that the informant realized how truly mortal he was. Death had reached out to brush against him over the years, but it was this time that entropy managed to grasp and keep him.
Izaya had no power; he could not beg or bargain or blackmail this force:
He died.
And yet, despite how many nightmares Izaya had dreamed over his lifetime of his death, no matter what he had hoped for in the "best case scenario" and dreaded in the worst-oblivion or Hell-the mahogany-eyed man still had not expected to return to a sort of misty consciousness, staring up at a blank sky that stretched out limitlessly above him. He did not expect to be aware.
"Oi. Flea."
…he also did not expect Heiwajima Shizuo to be there, either.
Izaya blinked slowly, taking his time to process his new fact-that he was not alone, that Shizu-chan was here, and that he still did not know where here was… but it was the fact that Shizuo was there, with him, that surprised Izaya the most. After all, why would the blonde have wanted to share in the same afterlife with the man who had killed him…?
"Shizu-chan," the informant settled on, trying for neutral. And failing.
The answering grin that the dead fortissimo of Ikebukuro gave to Izaya was wolfish, feral and sharp and-most of all, surprisingly-amused. "Didn't expect to see me after you died, did you?" he asked, already aware of what Izaya's response would be. With that in mind, Shizuo just continued onwards. "Wouldn't have, either, except that I decided to stick around and wait for you to catch up."
Shizuo's offhanded comment left Izaya stumbling, groping for some sort of conversational ground-something steady to grasp onto, perhaps even something as insubstantial as a thought to keep himself from reeling in shock. "You waited twenty-five years for me to die?"
The blonde man, still looking not a day over thirty-three, just shrugged a shoulder. "Yeah," came his simple answer. "Granted, though, would've figured that you'd end up here sooner-probably done in by some guy with a grudge against you, smashing in your skull with a pipe in some back alley. Didn't happen, though, and it didn't take long before I started wondering if I should've named you cockroach instead of flea."
It was enough to make Izaya scowl in irritation: the derision that Shizuo seemed to hold for the informant's survival skills (he had lasted longer than the protozoan, hadn't he?) as well as the 'cockroach' comment.
"Oh?" he eventually began once the brunette had managed to shove the annoyance to the wayside; Shizuo's conversational tracks had always been unpredictable-when the blonde had been alive, Izaya had always had a hard time predicting what Shizuo would say (thought what Shizuo would do was much easier to bet on). "So why'd you end up sticking around, Shizu-chan? Was your tiny protozoan brain too unevolved to realize that you're supposed to be moving on from wherever this is? Or did you somehow think that you'd be able to kill me in turn~? Nevermind the fact that I'm already dead."
Taunting and insults had always been a sure fire way to infuriate the blonde: Shizuo would roar, rage filling his eyes, and reach for the nearest vending machine (or sign, depending) to throw as hard as he could at Izaya's head. Perhaps the only upside to already being dead and stuck in this Purgatory was the fact that there weren't any items for Shizuo to throw because emptiness stretched on for eternity all around them.
However, none of that happened.
A chuckle was what the dead debt collector answered with, amber eyes gleaming as that wolfish smile continued to tug lopsidedly at Shizuo's mouth. "Truth, flea? I stuck around-in the beginning, anyway-just so that I'd still be here when you finally kicked the bucket, and I fully planned on seeing how many times I'd be able to kill you again and again in the afterlife. Didn't matter the fact that you'd already be dead. It'd still make me feel satisfied since it was your bastard ass that killed me in the first place."
Izaya glared at that, bracing himself for Shizuo to finally lunge forward and attack like the beast that he truly was. He latched onto certain keywords, though, shooting back a pointed, "In the beginning, Shizu-chan? What~? Time in Purgatory made you finally realize that there'd be no point since I won and you died in the end, anyway~?"
There was finally a spark of anger at Izaya's words, but that brief flicker did not grow strong enough to enkindle into a flame; it guttered out almost immediately, and Shizuo just shook his head in bemusement. "You really are a bastard. I missed that about you, I suppose, though fuck if I actually know why-or why I even fell in love with you in the first place."
Love.
The word made Izaya pause, caused his eyes to widen in shock as he just stared at Shizuo. The moment that he had realized that the blonde was here, too, Izaya had expected screamed words, thrown fists, accusations that were all too true; he had expected hate because that was the dance that he and Shizu-chan had indulged in while they were alive. But love? Love? It made no sense. None whatsoever.
"…so you're telling me that you waited twenty-five years in Purgatory to confess to me? Isn't that a little pathetic, Shizu-chan? Isn't that a little late?"
Shizuo's smirk just deepened, and it occurred to Izaya just now at how much this place had managed to mellow Shizuo's temper. While alive, they would have already left a wake of destruction behind the both of them at an exchange of just a few words-seeing this suddenly much more mature Shizu-chan, seeing the potential for the man that he had never gotten the chance to be… it both took Izaya's breath away and brought forth a sharp spike of pain in his chest, the sensation burying deep. "Better late than never, flea," the blonde retorted as he began to make his way closer.
A much-delayed confession, however, wasn't anywhere near being enough to soften age-old habits, no matter the fact that Izaya hadn't had to put them into practice for over twenty years. Regardless that Shizuo had offered no real threat to him (thus far), the informant still found himself tensing and shifting to balance on the balls of his feet as Shizuo made his way closer-preparing to dart either left or right, it didn't matter, just as long as he was able to avoid the blonde's first initial strike.
Instead of the punch that he was prepared for, Izaya found himself frozen as Shizuo skimmed gentle fingertips over the arch of his cheekbone before dipping down to caress over the edge of a jawline. The brunette blinked, finding himself spellbound as the other stepped closer-again and again-until their bodies grazed one another's, breaths mingling with each other's as their combined body heat brought a flush to Izaya's throat and a spark of fire to Shizuo's gaze.
Then and only then did Shizuo close the distance between them, mouth settling against Izaya's; the first touch, the first contact, was incredibly chaste: just a brief brush of lips to lips. The blonde man dipped his head once more, however, when Izaya did not pull away-and this kiss was slower, more exploratory as the blonde traced the tip of his tongue over Izaya's lower lip, slicking the plump flesh, before coaxing Izaya's lips to part so that he could ease his tongue into hidden, wet heat, stroking slowly against the edges of the other's teeth, paying particular attention to a small chip that Izaya had gotten when he was younger and had fallen down a set of stairs (not always graceful, not always efficient with his movement), and then-there-Izaya found himself kissing back.
Languid, each taking their time with tasting, with exploring, the other: no rush, for either of them-and part way through one of the many following kisses, Izaya tasted salt upon his tongue, felt trickling wetness upon his cheek, and he did not know whether the tears came from him or Shizuo or both.
It felt like eons later when the kiss finally came to an end, ages and eras both having passed as both men found themselves irreplaceably lost within the other, senses immersed in touch and taste and scent. Breathing coming harsh, Shizuo rested his forehead against Izaya's, amber eyes searching as he looked into a blood-tinted mahogany gaze. And yet, when he finally spoke, Izaya found himself-for the first time-unsurprised by what the blonde murmured huskily:
"I want to try again. You and me."
Izaya answered Shizuo by breaching the small distance between their mouths once again, kissing the blonde hungrily, fingers burying in silky hair with a grip tight enough that nothing would ever force him to let go. This was something that he would have never pictured for himself after his death-a happily ever after, or at least a promise of one if he didn't fuck things up this time around-but Izaya found himself content with it.
End.