I have so many fics going at the same time, man. This, 'Awakening,' a couple of kink meme fills, and then another single-line trope bingo. (Studying for the SAT? Eh.) This is the most humor my poor self has written in some time, so I hope it brightens someone's day!
(And, yes, updates will possibly be less frequent for all that I have so much else to write.)
Neither of the two exchanged more than another handful of words until after they had ascended the stairs to Izaya's apartment. The informant had barely managed to convince Shizuo to accept another ride on his back, and the blonde's ensuing bad mood had persisted up until the point at which he had fallen asleep there. Izaya'd known right away, of course; the other's muscles had finally lost all of their stubborn tension, and he'd had no retort to offer when Izaya tried to tease him about it. Now, Izaya could feel warm, slow breaths gusting across the back of his neck and soft blonde hair tickling at his skin.
He reached the door of his apartment and found his keys in the pocket of his jacket. As the door clicked open and swung inward, Izaya sighed and called, "Shizu-chan, time to wake up~!"
The blonde stirred groggily and reached up to rub at his eyes with the back of his forearm. "…wasn't sleeping…"
"Right," the informant teased, and Shizuo frowned at him when he turned to flash a grin at the blonde.
"Lemme down," he insisted as Izaya flicked the light on and slipped his own shoes off.
"Ah, but Shizu-chan is like a portable space heater!" Izaya laughed, earning himself a weak smack to the back of the head.
"Stop," Shizuo mumbled, obviously just a little too exhausted to do much more than that. Izaya decided that he may as well take pity on Shizuo, then, and knelt to let him climb down.
Heading further into the apartment, he called back to Shizuo, "You can leave the coat and boots there. Sorry, but I don't have any slippers in your size."
"'S fine…" Shizuo quietly removed the aforementioned articles of clothing and followed Izaya into the kitchen, where he found the informant apparently busy with something – running water, taking down a little box of something, and digging around in a drawer of silverware. Neither said anything to acknowledge the other's presence; they were both just a little too preoccupied with the unfamiliarity of the situation. Together, not fighting or even arguing, in the same room of Izaya's apartment. It was such a domestic scene, too, and Shizuo soon sough to divert his attention from the strangeness of it by meandering his way into the nearby living room.
He came across a TV there, and, finding nothing else of particular interest, started surfing through the channels. "Damn… He has so many," he muttered under his breath.
"That's obviously because I can afford it," came the unexpected response as Izaya entered the room behind Shizuo. The blonde jumped a little and turned to see his enemy towering over him.
The effect was unnerving, but not so much so that Shizuo missed the implied insult. "I get plenty at my place, too!"
Izaya laughed softly. "Like it matters, Shizu-chan." He held out a mug to the blonde, who accepted it hesitantly.
"…What is this?" He sniffed at it suspiciously as Izaya casually sat down beside him on the carpet.
"Can't you tell? It's hot chocolate." Shizuo realized then that the informant also had a mug and was blowing into the steam that curled up from the smooth surface of the dark brown liquid.
He imitated this, ignoring Izaya's muted chuckle, and then took a small sip. "It's good," he stated with a hint of surprise. "But why'd you bother?"
Izaya seemed to consider this for a moment, then shrugged and grinned down at him. "Just felt like it."
Shizuo glared at him. "I don't buy that for a second."
The informant set his drink down beside him, then laid back. He folded his arms behind his head to form a sort of pillow and sighed contentedly. "Whatever you want to 'buy' is fine by me."
Shizuo glanced down at the informant, who met his gaze unwaveringly.
He looked away after a moment, eyes wide. What was that? That little flutter… He didn't know, but it had come with a thought, too: Isn't something different? No, nothing was – of course not, and how could it be? This was a fluke of destiny or some shit like that, and damned if it wasn't the craziest thing that had ever happened to either of them, but that didn't mean that anything had changed. Izaya's eyes were the same as they'd been before – shielded from everyone, even himself, full of lies and absolutely not to be trusted.
"Cat got your tongue?"
Shizuo turned back to the informant, then, and the doubt was gone just like that. "I hate you, you know," he said – out of the blue, but he felt that he had to say it in order to reaffirm what he had always believed to be true.
"Oh? Well, isn't that petty of you. And here I was going to offer to prepare a futon for you."
"Really, now – isn't that nice of you?" Shizuo retorted sarcastically.
Izaya sat up and teased Shizuo's hair with one hand. "Careful, Shizu-chan. You just might start to sound like me."
Shizuo shook himself free of the informant's touch and turned back to the TV, fuming silently. Izaya, too, was satisfied to watch the screen for a short while; he stood and, carrying his hot chocolate, made himself comfortable on the couch. He didn't miss Shizuo's small look of regret upon seeing this, and it amused him greatly.
A few minutes passed, and at last Izaya could resist no longer. "You know, the couch isn't actually off-limits."
"L-like I'd sit next to you anyway!" Shizuo snapped, his face flushing in his agitation.
"There's room for you to sit at the other end. Or is it just that you're too short to climb up here yourself?"
Izaya had chosen his words perfectly, and he won the very response that he'd been looking for; Shizuo stormed to his feet and, leaving his half-finished hot chocolate on the floor, raised himself onto the far end of the couch. The informant smirked condescendingly at him, savoring his small victory, while the blonde still refused to take his eyes off of the TV screen.
The channel happened to be one of many dedicated to local news, which somewhat surprised Izaya. Perhaps it made sense for Shizuo to want to keep track of the city that he, too, claimed as his own, but the informant might have guessed that he'd choose to occupy himself with something less… intelligent, perhaps?
The broadcast cut to commercials just then, and Izaya watched Shizuo's eyes widen slightly as a series of photographs flashed across the screen. Cats – kittens, to be exact – and all of them apparently in need of adopted families. A cheery young woman offered a brief introduction to each of the animals, and her statements were incessantly underscored by videos that were surely intended to be unspeakably cute. "Ah, things like this are – how should I put it? Disgusting? Ridiculous?"
Izaya received no indication of having been heard, though, and when he looked over at Shizuo, he was astonished to see the blonde leaning forward with his eyes fixed intently on the screen. He remained completely oblivious to Izaya.
Oh-ho. "So, Shizu-chan actually likes things like this? How cute," the informant cooed, his voice dripping with patronization.
That got the blonde's attention. A sudden blush colored his cheeks a deep red, and he had to force himself to shift his gaze toward Izaya. "N-no, I just. Um. Y-you can change it, if you want…"
Izaya laughed. "It's over already, anyway. Too bad – I was having fun watching your reactions."
"I wasn't even that interested," Shizuo muttered grumpily.
"You were practically falling off of the couch to see it!" Izaya exclaimed cheerfully, and Shizuo tried to hide his embarrassment with a heavy sigh.
"D-doesn't matter. They're just cute – that's all." Not a big deal. Nope. He hadn't just let Izaya see that side of him, no way. Anyone, save for a freak like Izaya, would consider kittens to be adorable. The effect wouldn't have been as pronounced if he hadn't happened to look like a little kid right then, and that was all.
"Oh? Then, Shizu-chan, do you like other cute things, too?"
"O-other? I guess, but – wait." The blonde crawled just a little closer to Izaya, the better to glare combatively up at him. "What are you trying to make me say?"
Cue the innocent smile. "I'm only trying to have a civil conversation with my honored guest."
"Then come up with something normal to talk about. No – better yet, just stop trying. I don't wanna have a conversation with you, anyway."
Izaya hugged Shizuo to him, ignoring his little cry of protest. "That's what you're doing now, isn't it?"
"I'm… I'm arguing with you," Shizuo mumbled lamely. "…Let go."
"You sure? I might make a nice pillow," Izaya responded nonchalantly, and he managed to hold on to Shizuo despite the blonde's earnest efforts to move away.
"Wh-what the hell, Izaya-kun…" Lacking the energy to offer up any further resistance, though, Shizuo could only do his best to make himself comfortable next to the informant. His breathing gradually slowed, and he soon found that he cared less about his pride and more about the heaviness of his own body. It was the kind of weight that tugs at your eyes, at your ability to process words and information. The voices emanating from the TV gradually faded to a far-away echo. He felt warm and comfortable and now his awareness, too, felt weighted down by fatigue. And still he felt Izaya's eyes on him.
He wouldn't admit it, of course, but the informant's body really was warm and solid beneath him – a nice pillow, just as he'd said, just as it had been when they'd been out walking in the cold. The rise and fall of his breathing, the barely-felt beat of his heart. It was reassuring, somehow, and Shizuo wondered, as he drifted into unconsciousness, why he had always felt the need to extinguish those little signs of life.
