Shizuo, bangs veiling the guilt in his eyes, watched as the informant strained a shaky smile upon his face- but all animosity was lost into the supressed shudders of his now sallow body. He watched the tallow-faced raven brush a few comely locks from his cold, now sweat-stained brow with a woozy hand- translucent skin only emphasizing how much bone actually showed through to its surface.

Does the flea not eat? The normal Fortissimo of Ikebukuro would have questioned why he bothered to care for someone lowly as the informant, but he had a feeling he had crossed a line that made him even lower. He had molested a person is there sleep: even Izaya himself was not that daring, nor would go to such extent to fan the fire in his petty games. Though both guilt and chagrin thrummed from deep in his ribs, ire scratched at his brain that his arch enemy -that Orihara Izaya- would let his guard down at such a simple act. Of course he knew the damned insect was human, but accustomed to that smirk and the raven's slick words- almost gave off the notion that he was a god- unbreakable and the one who looks over the crowd*. He's not allowed to brake that easily... But who was Shizuo to judge?

He felt pain sheer under his eye as he swatted slim fingers away, a disturbing chitter filling the air- but it was not the ear-aching pitch of the laugh that made him flinch- but the bare hollowness of it. Not like his usual laugh filled with malice and ploy. "Shizu-chan is too kind, letting his prey flee so easily..." A pair of carmine flickered. "Maybe he really doesn't hate me at all."

No. But the blonde's pride shunned his inner voice. "God damnit, you was fucking trembling like a bloody leaf. Flea's aren't supposed to be like that- they're supposed to hop around like the annoying things they are."

"If you didn't notice Shizu-chan, I am quite human", elegant hands guested at his body, "unlike you."

I want it. The blond furrowed his brows, almost leering at the exposed hip bone from under rumpled clothes. I want it all. Though he was prideful, Shizuo didn't lie to himself, no- that was too alike someone he knew. "I don't know about y-" He paused, eyes softening. "Izaya", the informant's eyes widened momentarily as if in shock by someone calling him with no honorifics or flea; he describe the feeling as bare, even naked. "What's that scar on you left hip?"

On someone else, it looked just like another scar, but on that beauteous body, it looked like a blotch on the finest apple or a smudge on a prized painting. He watched the figure manoeuvre files that he did not notice were right by his feet to the desk, realising just how distracted he was with the insect. Letting out a heavy sigh as all he received was silence, he pushed away his ulterior goal (the reason why he stormed to Shinjuku our of pure anger rather than taking public transport in the first place) and slowly stood up, halting as he felt a cool air tickled his back.

"Who said you could leave, beast?"

The blond met the hostile scowl with a confused one, making the raven roll his eyes.

"You break into someone's house, molest them and threaten them and you expect to get up and leave like nothing happened? and of all people your archenemy?" Pale arms threw themselves up in the air as the whisper of a knife unsheathing sounded in his ears. "If I need to spell it out for you and your protozoan brain- there is something called manners and simple virtue."

Shizuo let out a loud snort that seemed to echo across the too-spacious room. Doesn't he get lonely living alone with so much emptiness? "Don't tell me you practice such things flea."

The informant put a hand to his chest while pouting. "Is it really that hard for Shizu-chan to believe? Aw, you wound me."

Deciding to ignore insect's jeering (another thing an unchanged Heiwajima Shizuo would not do) he pointed to the man's still revealed hip, face placid as he tried to ignore its sultry shape. "You didn't answer my question, Izaya."

Face slipping an expression of incredulity for a mere heartbeat, the raven pulled his shirt down almost violently as his eyes glazed over thickly, piercing and unrevealing. The blond could feel himself shudder under the intensity of the glower that grazed over every spec of his body with disgust as if a stubborn stain in the wall that just wouldn't erase itself no matter how hard you tried. But that wasn't what concerned the ex-bartender the most, he caught the flash of another faint line running down his back between his shoulder blades of the loose material- shocked as the informant himself as he wrapped his fingers on the rim of the silk and yanked it up as he gazed at a camouflage of both faded and fresh lines covering that delectable treat beneath. He didn't even notice his arm dropping when slapped away, owner flushed and squealing, almost drowning on the guilt that they had been from his fights with the insect.

As if reading him perfectly, the informant for the second time that night rolled his eyes, ushering Shizuo's sudden dilemma with a brisk hand. "They're not from fight's with you if that's what Shizu-chan is so worried about", a strange flicker crossed his eyes and the blond did not fail to see it, "they're knife wounds."

"Who did this to you?"

As if surprised that the ex-bartender would ever cross that question, the informant opened his mouth only to shut it again till he turned a shoulder, eyes nearly black in the collapsing shadows. "I don't even know if that man exists anymore." His voice seemed stoic; polar opposites with the flamboyant insect who had no problem in admitting his influential flaws, no, even going as far to admire them with his twisted theory of love.

Frown reaching his brows, the blond made to speak before letting out an ecstatic groan that made the raven jump before flashing a smile of amusement and disapproval. "What the hell is that monstrosity?"

The blond gave another growl at his manhood being insulted. "Just because I don't sport that girly bo-" Another groan through gritted teeth had the flea laughing with a twisted mirth, but it was clear he was hiding something behind that smile. As the debt collector reached to his belt, the informant shot him another glare before turning his back again. "If you're going to relieve yourself of that disgusting thing, do it out of my sight." He hinted, pointing at the what the blond presumed was the bathroom.

"You're a man as well, so don't tell me you've never had one of these things rando-"

"Random? Random?" The man's face looked borderline hysteric, voice shaking with laughter and eyes white. "I think we both know where, no why that thing popped-up. So don't you dare call that random."

Brushing away his shame, Shizuo examined the display of such human emotion that he thought for a second that his eyes had again betrayed him, but as far as he was concerned, it was Orihara Izaya, the talented informant of Shinjuku standing before him. He scanned the shaking fingers to the his knees, snapped together tightly. Since when was that flea so easy to read? "Have you had a bad experience with a male before?"

He thought he heard the informant choke, eyes going wider than they should have humanly been able to before he gathered at the shattered remnants of the mask, unintelligible words spilling from his lips. The strained look in his eyes as he grinned in defiance tugged at something inside the blond. "Since when were you so perceptive? Since when did we switch places? In my sleep?"

Voice balking at the confession the informant just made, he stumbled back, landing ungracefully on the floor with a painful thump. Before Shizuo had the chance to help the miserable creature up, he watched a hand swat his own away, nose lifted with some twisted pride that burned in his glistening eyes. "You never answered my question Shizu-chan?" He spoke out each syllable as if the mere prospect of talking made him distraught.

The debt collector looked at the painfully stubborn man in front of him and his unusually rigid posture, legs shut, shoulder hunched over and fingers clenching in on themselves only to make the shaking worse. I can't. He realised, smile sad. I'm not that cruel. "I just came, cause I felt like it."

Not giving the dark haired man a second time to speak, the man pulled the skinny figure into him, the body freezing as a pair of strong arms caged him in. Trying to ignore the way the informant's belly rubbed against his arousal, the blond tightened his grip as he felt the convulsions erupt in his tiny body- voice beseeching but hoarse as they were muffled against Shizuo's shoulder.

"Let me go, please."

But the way he shook as he tightened his grip more... "I can't." He hummed soothingly. I'm not that kind.

Again, as if reading every loud thunder beneath his lungs, the silky-haired man laughed into the ex-bartender's clothes as a course hand knotted itself in his jet hair. "You're really merciless aren't you, Shizuo?"

Shizuo. It made him smile.

But like most joys in the world, that smile was short-lived.


*Izaya is the Japanese variable for the biblical name Isaiah, meaning God's eyes or the one who looks over the crowd. Though the kanji of his name was spelt as a normal Japanese name (which I can't quite remember what it was) his parents insisted on having his name pronounced as the variation of that name. All canon stuff there.