Title: What Might Have Been
Author: MistressKiko
Rating: M
Pairing: Shizuo x Izaya
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters!
MalexMale couple depicted.
It was always so fucking hot during the days of summer festivities, and that day had been no different. Drenched in sweat from merely walking down to the embankment, Izaya and I sucked on melting popsicles, discarded our shirts and shoes, and sat side by side beneath the old stone bridge like we owned the place. We would be able to see the fireworks from here, off in the distance and to the west. Izaya was talking, I was halfway listening, and our popsicle sticks were thrown into the stream. The cicadas were heard and the fireflies seen, the poor bugs unaware of the impending show that would shame their kind in an instant.
Izaya stopped talking for a moment to lap at excess juice that had melted on his hand from the blue popsicle, and I watched him. I watched his tongue, colored blue, twist around his hand, leaving nothing but the pale skin behind. And when he looked back up, I leaned over and kissed him, tasting the unique flavor of blue raspberry and something entirely Izaya, and despite the stiffing temperature and the never-ending sweat dripping off of both of us, we came together, like magnets, under that old stone bridge.
I was concerned about being in public, he was concerned about the rock digging into his back, and we both decided we didn't care because we were seventeen and in love.
I felt everything. The rough fabric of my jeans as they were yanked from my legs, his clammy skin against my fingertips, his soft lips, his hard teeth, his breath on my face, the way his hair tickled me, the pulse in his neck, the heartbeat of his chest, and then the way he hugged me in every way possible and made me feel like the luckiest guy alive.
"Shizu-chan."
I heard it over and over, breathed into my ear, and I don't even remember if I was in the same mess or too consumed by pleasure to say much of anything at all.
But I do remember the fireworks going off behind us. They were loud, they crackled in the night air, bursting flames of light that I could only see by watching them dance across Izaya's face. Pink, yellow, blue, green, red.. a soft red that couldn't hold a candle to those brilliant scarlet eyes. I kissed him again, and again, until his heels dug into the curve of my waist and the droplets of sweat on his face rolled off another way as he tossed his head back and rode out his orgasm. I collapsed on him, sappy yet cherished words were exchanged, and we both turned to watch the very last firework launch.
That illustrious show of sparks and lights and wonder had come to an end, fizzled out, faded away, leaving nothing but a stale dark sky behind.
I stood on that riverbank, staring up at the very sky that had once been filled with lights, silently cursing the way my clothing clung to by body in the horrid humidity. The cicadas sang, the fireflies flew, and that old stone bridge stood still over the water. Not much had changed in twenty years.
But I wondered where he was.