Okay, guys. This is just something short that came to me before I surrendered to sleep. There is no smut, unfortunately, but hey, a writers gotta write. ^.^
You may notice this is under 'incomplete', but be warned: this is going to be a folder for more prompts. Some smut may be in the cards! Just depends on my writing mood.
Disclaimer: Concepts people, concepts. This whole site is only for concepts. I don't own 'Drrr'.
Warning: I only rated this 'M' for the literal 'mature' context, so be warned of some manly love.
Hope you at least enjoy the smut to come in the future xD
These Nights of Lies
There were always those nights that's Izaya loved. Those dark, silent nights that revealed the calm nature of a sleeping human. The way one slept on his side; hair in his eyes, pink lips puckered in innocence.
The blonde amazed him when he slept. Izaya couldn't look away from that peaceful face, couldn't help but move closer to the man lying vulnerable before his dark eyes.
The moon shone in through the drape-less window and cascaded over those blonde lashes in a way that made Shizuo look so innocent. Of course, this ambiance lied to the world; those eyes, when open, always seemed to be filled with anger and resent. Even when towering over their assumed lover, ravishing them in a way no one could fathom of a relationship so tense. There were no sweet words spoken out of those perfect lips, no light kisses...
Only silent approval.
Too the raven, there was no worry of loss with this man. Although they had their many differences, a night alone together always seemed to set them anew into the harsh world. Their likes and dislikes seemed to clash with pride when a finger brushed over their skin. When a mouth ghosted over a jaw. When those lying eyelashes tickled a lower abdomen.
They hid...Oh how they hid from each other.
Out on the streets, a shout or jab at the ribs was nothing to a simple passerby. There was but a glint of satisfaction from those watchers. Izaya loved that. Shizuo didn't care either way. It was know throughout the community that these two men were consumed by hate for one another. But behind closed doors, one might see differently.
Don't be fooled, for those small pecks or gentle whispers of future acknowledgement aren't real. The blonde lies. The raven complies.
Behind closed doors, they're but mutual relief. 'Friends with benefits', you may ask? No, nothing but simple feel.
Consent was nothing to them. If one needed it, the other sneered or grunted in approval, dropping their pants. If one didn't want it, the other would spill blood. That was how it worked. That was how it was supposed to work. If they hated each other publicly, they hated each other privately.
But those nights. Those beautiful, lie infested nights always seemed to light a fire in Izaya's heart. They gave him a spark of satisfaction he thought was unreachable. He could physically lay a finger on the man's face and revel in his beauty without said man looking at him in disgust.
He could tuck a soft, golden lock behind a pink ear and smile at the way it made the man look so feminine.
Little did the raven know that when he slept and Shizuo was awake, the blonde would touch his forehead to the raven's and whisper inevitable lies.
Oh how those lies proved false hope.
Yes, hope was still an option to the raven. But he was unaware of the blondes complicated thoughts. Even when dreaming of the man, he saw only anger and hate in his eyes, but no... No, Shizuo was different. Shizuo wanted-no, needed hope.
Those nights, when nothing was needed of their jobs, they would thrust away into oblivion without much to say. Only beautiful moans and whispered names were heard.
Lies.
Said lies would feed the fire of hope. When a hand rested on a chest, that chest lightly rising and falling in a steady rhythm, one would think of how it would be to love.
Love... What a disgusting word.
If one could love, then how was it they could hurt? Inflict so much mental and physical pain?
If Izaya could love a man so hateful, how could said man love him back?
The raven was clueless to the fact of love. Nightly, the blonde would caress those flushed cheeks and internally promise so many lies that it physically hurt him. He would promise a life of love, but a secret life of love.
Izaya felt nothing but the same, but neither would ever acknowledge. It wasn't fear that drove them to keep this, no, it was love.
Love drove them to keep the secret of love.
If either knew of this consensual love, the world would shatter. The sheets would rip and the pillows would spill soft blood.
A blade would inevitably be aimed at a jugular. A fist would be repeatedly thrust at a beautiful face.
Reasons for these harsh outcomes were unknown to them both. Whether it be the staged hate or the liquidized fear flowing through their veins, the outcome of verbal truth would ruin their 'perfect' agreement.
So they deal with it. They both deal with the pain that lurches both red hearts in their chests as their bodies move against one another. They stage anger in show of mutual love.
A smoky mouth takes an innocent, loving one. A calloused hand grips at a strong shoulder. These inevitable lies have to be told in order to keep this.
To keep this love pure.
Otherwise, things may become tense... more tense than they already are.
And with all of this fake anger and hidden love, these two men make it out for each other. They each are oblivious of the emotion painted red, but that's okay. It will always be okay. Because in the end, no one gets hurt through staged hate. Spoken love is the animated lack of happiness. And it's funny, how it's only these two men who have it so easy, yet so hard. Because no one can love so purely as two people who stage hate for the sake of said love.
Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave a little review, no pressure; I honestly could care less. NOT TRYING TO IMPLY THAT YOUR OPINION ISN'T NEEDED! IT IS MUCH WANTED lol!