A/N: Just a short and simple PWP fic that I wrote about... Two months ago (and promptly forgot about until recently XD). I've been editing it here and there since then and I'm still a bit iffy about it. But I figure it's good enough... Also, you might notice I wrote it differently than I normally do... Just wanted to try out that style. It's really fun to write in. 8D
It's cold tonight.
Izaya leans against the building wall without a care in the world. The cold is fiercely nipping at him but he ignores it, stuffing his hands into warm, fur-lined pockets.
The alleyway he's standing in is empty. No one ever goes down that alley, which is probably a good thing tonight. Not that Izaya would mind getting caught. He rather likes those looks of surprise that humans seems to do so well.
He lets out a quiet snicker. White mist appears in before him with lingering memories of both the past and the future; It leaks from his mouth like cigarette smoke.
He looks up to the sky through the mist, up at the red moon. Empty shells walk by in the street nearby, but he pays them no mind. They are noisy but it is quiet in his mind, so does it really matter? The world is so still through the noise. There's so much noise and energy in this town; so much activity. This city can overpower you just like that. It carries a weight like gravity pushing down on your shoulders, making your head swim and grow. And you just skip by, giddy and happy to be there because it is full of life and people and nothing can beat this city that breathes and lives with an exciting breath.
He hears a familiar low growl and smiles, acid stirring in his stomach and his chest tightening; heartbeat quickening, head clearing.
Before he can even say anything, even open his mouth to shoot a sarcastic comment of some kind, the blond man is pinning him to the wall, a cigarette crushed between clenched teeth. He glares at him with the most intense hate and anger. Sharp knives practically shooting out from his eyes and drive into the man before him.
"IZAYAAAAA-"
Izaya laughs wildly, delighted and looking for death. He brings Shizuo into a kiss and the cigarette drops to the ground.
It's going to be that kind of night.
Shizuo is already slipping his tongue between Izaya's teeth, delving deeper and deeper into the cavern with an uncharacteristically needing moan. Izaya enjoys the kiss, enjoys the feeling of wanting and needing from both of them, his head drifting off to nowhere and everywhere. He can taste cigarettes on Shizuo's tongue and finds that it doesn't annoy him like it should. It is a taste of Shizuo. And it tastes so good.
He rubs his knee against the bartender's crotch, smiling as it's met with a rock hard present.
"Hard already, Shizu-channn~?"
The blond man scowls. "Shut up, you wo-"
Before he can finish, Izaya whirls him around and their positions are reversed. Shizuo has his back pressed against the wall, lips parted in bewilderment, deep mocha brown eyes widened in anger and surprise and hate.
Izaya drops to his knees and snaps open Shizuo's pants with a few quick flicks of his hand, taking ahold of the hard organ and pumping at it with heat. It's still cold out and the bartender shivers, his legs shaking but cock still warm and hard in the raven-haired man's hand. Izaya decides to warm it up more. He envelopes the head with his hot tongue and takes it all in, reveling in the taste and feel of him.
The bartender knots his fingers into raven black locks, pulling and tugging and moaning, mist floating through the air. Izaya decides he loves that mist and all it brings and moves the hardness in and out of his mouth. His tongue slides along the underside of the shaft and laps up the pre-cum dripping from the head. It tastes as sweet as ever and Izaya finds it crazy that one human's cum could taste so mind-blowingly amazing.
He pops it from his mouth, a string of saliva and cum bridging from the cock to his lips, and glances up at Shizuo while fisting the hard-on with care. The blond is already staring down at him with an intense glare, his face red with pleasure and drawn in a scowl.
Izaya smiles and licks at the head again, pushing his tongue into the very tip, locking eyes with the bartender in the most teasing way possible.
Shizuo growls, groaning angrily and painfully and needfully, bites his lip, and comes all over Izaya's face.
The informant smiles happily as the cum splurts onto him, covering his mouth, his nose, his cheeks. He knows the bartender likes it like that, that it turns him on more than anything to see his seed splattered all over Izaya's face like he's a cheap whore. Izaya figures if he's gonna be a slut, he's gonna be Shizuo's slut because his cum is the hottest and tastes like honey and his cock feels fantastic like it's made out of fucking gold and he would never get enough of it even if he could have it every hour, every minute of the day.
At that point, words no longer need to be spoken. They never did. Izaya is already pressing himself against the wall, feeling the hard brick against his hands, and dropping his pants. In a flash, Shizuo is right behind him, pressing eager fingers into an even more eager hole.
Izaya supposes Shizuo could finger him forever, because it feels good and dirty and the most erotic sounds come from the entrance like it's a soundbox for fuck sounds. But Shizuo is stretching him for a reason and Izaya remembers something else is going to replace those fingers soon and it'll feel even better; another layer of heaven.
The bartender delves his fingers deeper, almost cruelly, his nails digging into the wet crevices and pressing against that spot – oh, that heavenly spot – with determination. For a moment, Izaya swears he sees stars and his vision blurs at the edges. The overwhelming urge to come weakens his knees so much they buckle for just a second. He's mewling desperately like a kitten, because, again, he knows that's what Shizuo likes and he wants the bartender to just hurry the fuck up and put it in already.
And like always, it's like the man has read his mind, like their brainwaves are connected because for the longest times they've both wanted to kill each other and fuck each other and devour everything and anything. Shizuo withdraws his fingers and presses his throbbing cock against his ass. Izaya tries to dig his nails into the brick but they might break so he digs them into his palms instead.
The bartender presses farther into him, stretching and ripping and practically killing him, fuck, just shove it all in already.
Another mind read. Shizuo thrusts the rest in with a decisive grunt and grips at Izaya's waist, resting his chin on the informant's back bone for moment while the man tightens around him.
"Fucking hot . . ."
Considering how cold it is tonight, Izaya's ass should be a welcome warming for his cock. Izaya almost feels like smiling but he wants to be fucked, so he skips that and thrusts himself forward, making the bartender move within him.
Shizuo grunts in slight surprise, not really that surprised since Izaya is always eager and impatient when it comes to this shit and fuck it, he was gonna fuck his brains out because the brunette's ass feels way too fucking good for him not to.
So he does as Izaya wants, and that he desperately needs to do, beginning to thrust in and out, a little slow at first to loosen it up, then moving in and out at a much faster pace, pounding into the informant's ass mercilessly.
Izaya grounds his teeth together and rests his head against the brick wall, loud moans escaping him with each thrust. His vision is completely blurred now and his head is spinning out of control with pleasure. Shizuo quickens his pace even more and the seductive sound of slick skin slapping against skin fills the deserted alleyway, mixing deliciously with the low, guttural moans that have managed to slip from the bartender to bounce off brick walls. Izaya joins him, taking a hold of his own cock, spreading the bead of pre-cum already seeping from the head down the length and pumping along with the frenzying thrusts.
But then the blond leans closer to his ear and moans his name in the most desperate and gut-wrenchingly beautiful voice he has ever heard. "I-Izaaay-yaaa..."
Suddenly, it's like the only important thing in the world is that he come and come hard. It has to be messy, it has to be painful, it just has to be the best fucking orgasm he would ever have or goddamnit he was going to fucking kill something.
"Fuck me . . . F-Fuck me . . . Oh G-Goddd, F-FUCK me, Shizu-chan-!"
He pounds his hand against the wall, clawing at it, not even caring if his nails break now because he needs that release and it's so close, so close . . . He gives one more pump at his cock and then it's everywhere and nowhere and his head explodes as Shizuo explodes within him, filling him to the brim with heat.
He pounds at the wall again, his breath catching and throat constricting, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he moans deliriously and white hot ribbons of cum spray through his fingers, all over the brick in front of him. He wants to come forever, feel that overwhelming surge of pleasure that only Shizuo can give him, forever. But it slowly dies away, and for a few moments they simply stand there, slumped against the wall, panting heavily, heads swimming and floating and bodies tingling, littered with goosebumps because oh FUCK that felt good.
Izaya feels his knees weaken once again and this time it's just too much. He falls to the ground, bringing Shizuo with him. The man growls in annoyance but goes down as well, sighing with irritation and resting his chin on Izaya's shoulder, reluctantly wrapping his arms around the man.
They lay there for a while, the bartender pressed against the informant. The coldness tries to nip at their half naked bodies but they're already warming each other better than any heater ever could and it feels like happiness and love. Izaya chuckles. But it's not love. Definitely not.
Shizuo shifts and pulls out of him, making Izaya practically beg him to put it back in because he thinks that's where it belongs forever and ever and he feels rather empty without it. But he's not one to beg, no matter what. Maybe as a joke, but he would never succumb to weak human instincts. The blond stands up with a slight stumble and does up his pants.
Izaya weakly turns himself around, sitting down on the cold ground. His pants are still around his ankles and he sits there casually, with his legs spread, looking up at Shizuo with a smirk.
"You've completely incapacitated me, Shizu-chan~ I don't know if I'll be able to walk home~"
The bartender scowls and turns his head away from the inviting scene. "It's your own damn fault." He takes out a cigarette and lights it, puffing away at the cancer stick irritably.
Izaya laughs lightly, his eyebrows wiggling teasingly. "But I like when you fuck me~ And I'm pretty sure you like it too~"
Shizuo kicks an empty can at him. The informant barely avoids it, laughing heartily as it smashes against the wall beside him. Nothing can beat this feeling. It's too perfect and it would never go away as long as the bartender was there in that town and that feeling of wanting to kill each other and fuck each other still remained. It was destined to be like that forever and Izaya couldn't have been happier about it.
"Carry me home, Shizzy~"
Another can flies through the air and misses. "Fuck you."
"You already did~"
Izaya avoids a flurry of trash and a garbage can, bursting into hysterical laughter once again.
In the end, the bartender carries him all the way home.
If you liked it, please review~