Shizuo's lost track of how long he's been chasing Izaya. His heels burn, his shirt is wet under the arms, they're somewhereout of town that he doesn't know, so he figures it's pretty long, pretty far. He tears his shirt at some point along the way – the shirt his brother gave him, the second of them to suffer because of Izaya – and it makes him even madder, makes him keep chasing Izaya long after he would have normally retreated.
He's chasing Izaya up and over scaffolding at some abandoned building site. In the back of his mind, Shizuo's vaguely aware that he hasn't seen the ground for some time, but he doesn't concern himself about it, doesn't take his eyes off Izaya once.
It's not until Izaya bounds onto a wooden platform and out of sight that Shizuo wavers. He puts a hand out for balance, clenching the steel bar. Without Izaya, there's nothing in front of him but metal scaffolding, the weak looking boards at the end of it, where Izaya had gone, and the beginnings of sunset.
Then he looks down. It is a big mistake.
He's supported by only the thread of steel, no wider than his shoes, and it's a long way down. Long enough for the world to blur, enough to kill him. He tastes bile in his throat, swallows it down.
"Shizuo?" Izaya calls, irritated, like he sometimes gets when Shizuo pursues him for a particularly long time. "I'm over here. I haven't got all day."
Shizuo doesn't move. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Izaya, on the wooden boards. He looks very far away.
"Oi." Izaya snaps his fingers. "Look at me."
Shizuo can't.
Izaya laughs at him. "Don't tell me you're afraid of heights?"
Shizuo's never been this high before in his life. His knees are buckling, and his knuckles white from holding on. Afraid doesn't come close to what he is. He feels like he is already dying.
"Shizuo," the flea sings. "Just look behind you. We've been this high for the past twenty minutes, and you didn't fall. Look where we've come from."
Shizuo doesn't look. Is the flea insane? He can't move his neck. He can't move at all. It's as if staring the height out would somehow save him.
"Shizuo. Shizu-chan. Don't look down. Look at me." The flea waves his hands, claps them, snaps his fingers again, but Shizuo doesn't move. His arm aches from holding on.
"I'm going to die," he hears himself, faint and barely there.
The wind must carry his voice, or Izaya must read his mind, for he snorts with contempt.
"No, you're not. Do you think I'd have such boring plans for you?"
Shizuo says nothing.
"Listen," Izaya tells him. "You're literally steps away from safety. It's getting dark. If you don't move soon, you'll be climbing down in the dark, and that's a whole different ball game."
Shizuo swears softly, but he still doesn't move. Then something swings in the corner of his eye, and his head snaps up out of reflex.
Izaya is dangling upside down, swaying slightly, with his legs curled around one of the bars, arms dangling with his coat and hair. His shirt slips down, revealing his perfect stomach. He is grinning at Shizuo like death itself.
"Have I got your attention now?"
"You're crazy."
Izaya laughs at him.
"I'm serious, Shizu-chan," he says, though he looks anything but. "I have an appointment in an hour. Get over yourself and move."
"I'll fall."
"You won't."
Izaya lets himself drop with a graceful flip. The boards don't even wobble. Then he hops on the bar Shizuo's balancing on, walks towards Shizuo with his arms out, singing to himself.
He stops just in front of Shizuo and holds a hand out, palm up."Come on, protozoan." He wiggles his fingers invitingly.
Shizuo's legs steady, stiffening at the threat of Izaya's proximity. "You'll push me."
"I won't. You push me however and we'll have problems."
Izaya sighs and drops his hand, almost staggers the last few steps towards Shizuo. He puts his hands on the other man's shoulders for balance, and kisses him almost as if by accident, except he doesn't stop. He steadies himself on Shizuo's shoulders, pushes back until he is just holding Shizuo's hand.
"Let go," Izaya tells him, and Shizuo does, letting go of the bar to take Izaya's other hand. Izaya walks him backwards without looking, without wobbling, not taking his eyes off Shizuo's. When his heel touches the wooden boards, he gives Shizuo a final sharp tug, and just like that Shizuo is by his side on the boards in a heap. He melts in relief.
Izaya laughs at him, sprawling back on his hands. "I can't believe you're afraid of heights," he taunts. "Who knew. But you don't need to be. Look behind you. Look how far you've come."
When his hearts's calmed down enough, Shizuo sits up to look. The sun is setting on the site, on the city behind it. It's all bathed in an red-gold light, and the sky is burning with it. It's so beautiful, so dangerous. He sees how far they have come. On the relative safety of the boards, it doesn't feel as bad to look down.
"You were fine until you realised how high you were," Izaya tells him. "Sometimes it's better to not realise." He hops to his feet. He stretches languidly, the sunset stretching his shadow into something elegant and inhuman. It falls over Shizuo's legs.
"Come on, I'm going to be late. Unless you want to be found up here whimpering on your own."
Shizuo wants to snarl a reply, but Izaya is already bounding off. Shizuo takes off after him on still weak legs, not wanting to be alone again.
He follows izaya down easily, without freezing up, and Izaya moves more leisurely now it's not a chase, and Shizuo can easily follow.
Shizuo doesn't say anything until his feet are on solid ground once more, until Izaya's eyes are vague, distant, already moving on.
"Why did you do that?"
For a moment, Izaya looks almost blank, like he's thinking about his appointment and forgotten all about Shizuo. Then he frowns.
"Why not?" He shrugs. "You weren't going to fall, anyway. I was just speeding things up."
Shizuo wants to point out that this makes no sense, that Izaya has to explain himself further, but the flea is gone before he can even compose it in his head. He looks up at the dizzying heights they've come from. He doesn't think he'll be as afraid next time.