Personally, this is my most favorite chapter of this entire fic because it is... revelation time. Hopefully it works out for the two of them but Shizuo can be so slow sometimes and Izaya is just flat out human this time around. I don't own anything as always~

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Get Close

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Peace in Ikebukuro was just not right.

Simon was handing out flyers and the flyers were falling to the pavement, sticking to the black tarmac like a second skin. Russian Sushi was stepped on and Simon placed another flyer in a hand, his accent blurring his Japanese.

Shizuo walked away as he slipped his phone into his pockets. The city noise was bustling in the air, suffocating him with a grip he could not neglect. Everything was getting to him and he knew it was really just him.

Frustration was wearing him down.

He needed Izaya to come and laugh it off because the first time was a joke and the second time was a mistake.

He could not forget Izaya's grip on his arms and neither could he forget the plead Izaya let out.

He hadn't seen the other man in over two weeks and his absence was really bothering him, a lot more than it really should if there was only hate and hate and hate and hate grinding the gears between them.

Thirty minutes was enough for anything to happen, Tom-san called and work was not happening for the day. He lit up a cigarette and strolled home. Shizuo needed a break from reality and the constant reminder that Izaya was nowhere to be found.

Checking his mailbox, he saw that Kasuka had left him a ticket for an upcoming premiere of another film. He smiled at the flimsy piece of paper and walked up the stairs as he folded his sunglasses into his chest pocket. The soles of his shoes clicked along the concrete steps and he looked down the hallway to the last door that led to his home.

His eyes rested on a lump of black, lined with fur.

And it was sitting at his door.

"Oi."

Izaya slowly turned his head, fixing his eyes on the blonde that had interrupted his eighth game of pinball. And he was beating his highest score too.

"What are you doing in Ikebukuro?"

Letting out a soft sigh, Izaya stood up with a small stretch and patted the dirt from his pants. He was smirking as the words slipped from his lips just as easily as the mask that fell into place. "Welcome home, Shizu-chan~"

Shizuo could not control the urge to punch something.

And his fist met with the flea's abdomen.

The flesh was soft to the touch, the moan was almost lost to his ears, and there was the scent of soap and rain.

He easily unlocked the door without a care in the world because his temporal frustration was let out in one blow. Tossing the limp sack of Izaya to his couch, he walked into the kitchen for a cup of milk and Izaya lay on the worn black leather, nursing his stomach with a consistent whine that had began at the door and continued on the furniture.

"—And here I was, trying to be nice. Since I heard that Shizu-chan was feeling aggravated without my presence, I come by to see you in Ikebukuro and this is what I get. A punch to the stomach!—"

The ranting did not stop, not even when he drained the last drop and made his way back into the living room.

Izaya was rubbing at his stomach and the skin was left bare for all to see. Shizuo looked away with a small grimace at the colourful thoughts that ran in his head. The pale creamy stretch of flesh was not yet bruised but they both knew that it would soon surface because there was never a punch from Shizuo that didn't mar him black and blue.

"—it is just too cruel on this poor soul—"

But he was still talking.

"Goddamnit, Izaya! Shut up already."

Shizuo leaned over the couch, for a kiss that was more lust and hate than love and care combined.

And his lips touched the warmth of a palm.

He looked down and Izaya stared up at him, hands positioned in front of his face in an attempt to block any sort of a-worded (affectionate and aggressive) attacks from the other. His eyes were widening pools of blood red that was pulling him in. The constant ranting drained from between his lips and all that was left was an empty shell, the real Orihara Izaya that Izaya had tried everything to hide from the world around him.

He could not meet Shizuo's stare and he tried to push the other away.

"… Don't kiss me."

It was too soft to feel right.

"Shizuo."

The formal basis was a startling revelation too.

Shizuo pulled back in alarm. He was anticipating for the trademark smirk, the metal blade against his throat. He stared hard at the man that lay on his couch but nothing ever came at him. He did not know whether he should continue. "Izaya. Are you…?"

"Don't ask me whether I'm okay… Shizu-chan…" There was desperation in place of arrogance, his voice was breaking apart and as he lifted his eyes, Shizuo saw a raw and rigid human emotion that was cutting across to him. The refined Izaya with his smooth lines and sharp tongue was becoming undone.

And Shizuo realized that there was something seriously wrong with Izaya.

"My hands…"

Those slender long digits were pale and they were held up as Izaya's last defence against the entire world. There was no mistaking it anymore.

"They are shaking, Shizu-chan."

It was fear.

000

Incoming message!

Accept.
Deny.

Sender: Izaya

Topic: Re: …

Message: Call again. I am in Ikebukuro already.

XXX Kuro

Dun-dun-dun! I hope my human!Izaya isn't too OCC. D: Please don't shot, I promise more.