I tried for light and perhaps even slightly, funny? Yes, I tried for light (non-existent) humor. But key-word here is tried. ;) ShikiIza is still love even though I continue to not own. :D
XXX
Decision Day
XXX
It was two in the morning as he laid flat on his back.
There was no afterglow or a shared cigarette. Just two men and a bed that was getting cold.
It dipped as the other got out from beneath the sheets and it wasn't until the rustling of clothes did he turned on his stomach to watch the man slip on those white slacks.
Izaya's eyes were gaping pools of red as he rested his chin in a propped up hand. Shiki glanced at the milky white flesh exposed from beneath the folds of the tangled sheets. In the semi-lavish lights of a common love hotel, mutual appreciation morphed into an uncharacteristic romance.
A strange sort of feeling surged to where their hearts should be but Shiki's fingers worked at his belt just the same and Izaya's voice swept over the silence all too easily.
"Shiki-san?"
There was a dilemma that must be dealt with first.
"Are you really a yakuza?"
Shiki paced to the lonely armchair by the glass windows before he peered at him with dark eyes because Izaya had seemed sincerely puzzled. "What kind of question is that?"
He lit up a cigarette.
"I mean, Shiki-san doesn't have any elaborate dragons on his back or fancy flowers tattooed all over his body."
"Don't speak about me like I am not here." He hated hearing Izaya speak in third person but all Izaya cared for was the way Shiki's voice was so gruff and deep. "Besides, that's just personal preferences, its not like I don't have any."
"If Shiki-san just buttoned up that dress shirt then you would look more like a business man than anything else really." Izaya touched the ends of his short bangs and commented lightly. He seemed indifferent but he was only too focused on the way Shiki's words were passing through his lips like smoke. "Besides doesn't every yakuza need to carry a short blade just for sepukku?"
"What century do you still think we are in, Orihara-kun?"
At Shiki's blunt mockery, an evident sparkle of a thought passed through his eyes and to mask his interest, Izaya didn't even try to confine the yawn that escaped with his words. "I just thought the yakuza were rather traditional people."
Shiki rubbed at the gold rings on his fingers before he propped his chin in a hand. There was a blatant gleam of amusement that was directed at Izaya. "Were you watching yakuza films again?"
"No, I'm too busy with my job." He ran a hand through black locks of hair as he sat up with a small stretch. The sheets slipped off of his bare shoulders to reveal pale skin and even paler scars.
Shiki didn't even bother to reply, just stared hard at the other. It didn't take long, it never did, before Izaya rolled his eyes in exasperation.
"Just one, I was waiting for a client."
The defence followed as he stood up from the bed and reared the sheets along with his frame. It glided along the carpet, snagging against the patchy ground.
Shiki made no move.
The chair was made to fit one and so when Izaya sauntered over, there was nothing else to do but let him be. Because Shiki learned that rejection fuelled Izaya's will to push and push until they would both plummet over the edge.
"You make yourself sound like a cheap whore, Orihara-kun."
White sheets pooled into his lap.
"My business is legit."
"And I sell paintings for a living."
Izaya settled comfortably into the other man's legs.
The thin fabric of the sheets prevented the hot press contact from running his imagination astray. It was all rather odd. He could do so much better. There were always someone younger (more age appropriate at the very least), prettier (nice girls, perhaps?) and most importantly, someone who would listen to every note of his manipulative tunes (unlike the man before him).
But the best didn't appeal to his taste anymore.
If it weren't him then everything else would only leave a stale rotten taste behind.
It became a part of his lifestyle, a habitual addiction he had grown accustomed to.
"Really?" And just like now, he couldn't help himself, he liked to dig his own grave just to escape death and with Shiki the one to bury him alive, he couldn't help but tremble from the thrill of having dirt fall into his face. He brought Shiki's hand to his neck. "Then let's talk art."
His words left a tremor deep within his throat and the words were etching themselves into the other man's palm.
"Don't you think you're too old to be this curious?" Shiki raised a brow at Izaya's coy smile. They were much too close for business partners. He pulled his hand away.
There was a soft chuckle as Izaya wrapped his arms around Shiki's neck and replied with a sly tongue that darted from between his slick lips. "I'm forever twenty-one, Shiki-san. You can't say something like that to me."
He shook his head with mock disappointment and his black hair followed.
Shiki saw through the blatant attempts to dig up dirt and they were now too much like backstabbing lovers calling for a divorce. There were always too many questions. "Don't tell me you are serious in joining Awakusu-kai?"
"Will you refer me in if I said yes?" He batted his lashes and traced a finger down the other's exposed chest.
Shiki glanced down at the suggestive graze that was gliding lower against the flesh and right before Izaya crossed the line, Shiki clasped a hand over the pale digits, pulling both their attentions back to the topic.
"In your dreams. I'm not going to wipe your ass for you."
Izaya laughed lightly and brought Shiki's hand to his lips. Pressing his mouth against the fingertips, he murmured against the flesh. "But think about it. We could see each other every single day."
The stress he placed on the last three words did not go unnoticed and neither did the twinkle of his eyes. Izaya's cunning taunts never escaped Shiki.
"If I see more of your face, I don't know what I would do." He tried to pull his hand away but the other only held on tighter.
Izaya swallowed the smirk that tugged at his lips and murmured with a sly glint in his eyes instead. "Mmm… promising. I didn't know you were so romantic."
"Don't make me."
Izaya smiled as he absentmindedly laced his fingers with Shiki's in a much too needy manner. "But honestly, I was considering a career change the other day."
"Really?"
"No, not really. But entertain me, will you?" He tilted his head to the side and continued his contemplations. "I was thinking business men at first, you know, a tame and quiet lifestyle?"
"You in a suit and tie?" Shiki had always known that the informant had a habit of spinning unnecessarily complicated thoughts from simple things. Izaya was staring intently down at him, there was a serious glint that made this childish conversation almost believable.
"It is all for the office romance, Shiki-san."
And he was proven right once more. Izaya liked making a mess out of the slightest thing that caught his attention. He merely waved a hand out for the other to continue because as long as Izaya was talking, he didn't have to.
Merrily, Izaya continued on.
"Then I thought business men really was too boring for me. I need the thrill to keep me in shape you know. So I thought how about Shiki-san!" His eyes brightened with the mention of the other man's name. The said man's grimace continued to deepen. "A little extreme but yakuza seems like a pretty good job. I mean I get to terrorize innocent people for money and sell drugs to underage kids."
"We take protection fee and keep kids from doing crazy things." He was a yakuza before he was anything of Izaya's, he always defended what Izaya hadn't torn down yet.
"You make yourself sound like such a hero." He nodded almost sympathetically with his words but sarcasm was seeping from every single syllable.
"So I take it you are all up for the tattoos?"
Shiki leaned back into the seat and easily gazed up at Izaya with a wiry smirk at his lips.
"I thought you said it wasn't mandatory?" The edge of Izaya's mouth tilted down, a firm set grimace to the thought of a needle to his skin. He was a human shell made of flesh and bones, he too hated the pain.
"It depends. If your face ends up unrecognizable, we need some way to identify you."
Izaya made a face, it was almost cute. But Shiki continued to play his part and gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, almost insensible to Izaya's concerns.
"…Maybe tattoos and sepukku blades aren't exactly my thing after all, Shiki-san."
The silence that came before his reply made entertaining the young man worthwhile. But Shiki, knowing Izaya's love to play God, liked to show him who was boss all along just as much.
"Not at all, I'm sure the switchblade under your pillow will do just fine, Orihara-kun."
XXX Kuro
I still find these two neck in neck as to who is boss sometimes… (sorry Shiki-san, you are still really man!) XD