Shizuo stomped out of the bathroom rubbing his hair dry with a towel, only to find that Izaya hadn't shifted so much as an inch; he was still curled up in the same corner of the bed he had been in when Shizuo awoke. Yesterday night, they fell asleep facing each other but, at some point during the night, Izaya had turned, and Shizuo woke to a back far away from him.

"Flea, wake up."

"Hmm... Don't wanna," Izaya drawled, curling up and covering his face with the sheets.

"Come on, louse," Shizuo said, approaching him. "We agreed last night, remember?"

"We didn't agree. Go outside on your own."

"Don't act like a brat, come out already."

"Let me ask you just one thing," Izaya hissed from under the sheets. "How do you intend to get me outside? Are you such a paramecium brain that you haven't even noticed I'm unable to walk?"

Shizuo grabbed the sheets and pulled, grinning when Izaya curled up even more and tried to hide his face in the pillow.

"Iiiizaaaayaaaa-kuuuun, waaaake-uuuup!"

"Shut up," Izaya replied. "I said I don't wanna - wait, what are you - LET ME GO!"

Izaya squirmed and kicked and scratched the man who had just grabbed and lifted him without his consent but, even if he was sure he had hit the other more than once, he was sadly aware he had no chance against someone as monstrous as Shizuo. The struggle's result was limited to a slightly pissed off Shizuo and stings of pain from his injured knee and wrists. In a nutshell, it was a failure.

"Be quiet now," Shizuo said.

"Shizu-chan, at the very least, don't carry me bridal style!"

"Stop complaining."

Shizuo nudged the bathroom door with the tip of his toe, opening it to allow both of them to pass.

"Now you're gonna wash off that flea stink you have," he uttered in a governess-like tone of voice as he put a still completely dressed Izaya on the shower seat. "I'll prepare breakfast."

Shizuo headed toward the door growling: "And make it fast!" before Izaya cleared his throat and stopped him. Shizuo was right on the threshold when Izaya said,

"Um, Shizu-chan?"

"WHAT'S THE MATTER NOW?"

Izaya clicked his tongue. "Shizu-chan is really an idiot, ne? How am I supposed to wash myself alone?" he said, eyeing the shower jet, way too high for his arm to reach.

"Hah?!"

"I can't stand up and you sprained my wrists, remember? I can't get the bandages wet."

Shizuo replied with a bitter, mocking laugh. "Very funny, Izaya-kun! And how did you wash yourself yesterday, hah?"

"Shinra did it."

"Eh?"

A flush of embarrassment spread across Shizuo's cheeks. When hazel eyes widened like a deer caught in the highlights, Izaya couldn't restrain his giggles anymore.

"Honestly, I would have never pegged you as a prude, Shizu-chan," Izaya said, shrugging. "It can't be helped, we'll have to wait for Shinra. We'll go out another time-"

"No."

"... What?"

"I'll do it," Shizuo said. "Tell me how to do it."

"Eh? Are you sure? It's better if we wait-"

"Of course I'm sure!" Shizuo interrupted him. "You've got nothing that I don't already have, after all! I-It's not that I'm gettin' all embarrassed over a-"

Shizuo's throat bobbed as he swallowed soundly. Izaya filled the sentence.

"A dick?"

Izaya found it incredibly funny how the usually foulmouthed Shizuo's jaw dropped and his ears became flushed at the word, just like a maiden. Shizuo was contradictory, and so unpredictable sometimes Izaya felt his control slip through his fingers. Even now, Izaya had his chin tilted up when the little, vicious smile of superiority vanished from his face, because a still completely clothed Shizuo had just joined him in the shower.

"What now?" Shizuo asked him, his voice deep.

Izaya smirked. Despite the beast's regained composure, the daring look into those hazel eyes couldn't hide the tension in Shizuo's features, the slight blush on his cheeks, the way his fingers ran down the back of his head. It was time for Izaya to play a bit.

"I don't know how you shower, but I'm used to washing myself naked."

Amusement filled him to the brim as he observed how red Shizuo's face was now. Izaya tilted his head back to rest against the shower tiles, looking Shizuo straight in the eye and playing with the tone of his voice, making sure it was hushed and as sultry as possible when he murmured:

"Undress me, Shizu-chan..."

Izaya half-closed his eyes, savoring how delicious victory against his monster would be; he couldn't win against Shizuo in strength, but he could surely prevail in self-confidence.

Shizuo's fingers were hesitant when they grabbed the hem of the black shirt Izaya wore. It was a challenge, and Izaya was determined to do everything to win. He couldn't refrain from wondering how many provocations Shizuo could stand or, better, what were the boundaries of his tolerance, because he had just to surpass them.

Izaya sensed Shizuo jolt when knuckles brushed his own skin, the touch warm, hard and sudden, trembling just slightly at the contact. Izaya wondered if he should pretend to moan - because it would be funny witness Shizuo imploding out of embarrassment- but no, that was without any doubt way over Shizuo's tolerance and Izaya didn't want their game to end yet - not so soon, at least.

Not when it was so amusing.

When Shizuo took a quick, involuntary glance at Izaya's now naked torso, his eyes glanced over and disregarded the healing cuts laying across his arms and chest and stomach in a multitude of scarlet lines. Instead, he noticed how thin, lithe and graceful Izaya was, nowhere near as scrawny as Shizuo had always depicted him in his fantasies of vengeance. Indeed, there was strength hidden under the white skin, made of quick nerves and well-toned muscles, ready to spring in action at will. Even though Izaya's face could have been somehow feminine with its delicate features, his body radiated a purely masculine - and dangerous - charm.

From the way Izaya's lips crooked up, Shizuo wondered if the flea had managed to sense his thoughts.

"Now, my pants."

Shizuo's gaze shifted to focus on an indefinite spot of the light-blue tiles or on the floor, never on Izaya, when his hands grabbed the hem of his pants, underwear included. Izaya began humming under his breath, softly, probably just to regain Shizuo's attention, but the blonde was so embarrassed he didn't dare to look neither at the other man's ruby eyes, nor at his body. Shizuo knew he had to sacrifice something in order to win against the louse - he chose cockiness.

He lowered Izaya's pants, slowly, and discarded them on the floor where the black shirt lay. His eyes shut the awkward situation out, but he felt everything - toned quadriceps, hairless and velvet skin, the slightly roughness of gauze. Shizuo swore that Izaya's muscles tensed when his hands slid across the bandages covering the burns, but he convinced himself it must have been just an illusion, because Izaya's voice was smooth and relaxed and so-fucking-self-confident when he whispered:

"Shizu-chan..."

Shizuo froze, heartbeat hammering in his chest.

"Ne, Shizu-chan, why are you so embarrassed?"

Shizuo gritted his teeth, head turned sideways, because he was asking the same thing to himself. He was a man too and he had spent years in the Army where privacy had always been a superfluous luxury. He had seen plenty of naked men, and it had never been an issue for him. Perhaps, he tried to reassure himself, his cheeks, his ears, his whole body felt burning hot because he had never undressed one - furthermore, this man wasn't a random one.

For one moment, Shizuo evaluated the possibility of giving up and leaving Izaya here, naked and unable to walk, waiting for Shinra alone. He needed to go outside for a long walk and clear from his thoughts how he reacted to this unsettling situation. But no, he wouldn't run away, because the idea didn't taste sweet like victory, but rather felt like he was raising the white flag - and he would never permit that when it came to the flea.

This time, when Shizuo tilted his chin up to face Izaya, he didn't avert his gaze. Hazel eyes reflected Izaya's scarlet ones, which now resembled pools of blood rippled with sadistic pleasure - they were beautiful, yes, but dreadful nonetheless.

Izaya clicked his tongue and responded to the gaze by parting his legs.

Shizuo's frail determination faltered as he involuntary looked down at the pale and smooth skin of Izaya's flat stomach, following the thin trail of black hair that started under his navel and ended around the base of his half-hard cock.

Shizuo felt his mouth go dry.

Izaya was certain he had already reached and surpassed Shizuo's limit. It was just a matter of time before Shizuo would run out of the bathroom, and Izaya didn't care to wait alone for Shinra to come.

Instead, Shizuo proved to be unpredictable as always, and he grabbed the shower jet, turning the water on.

"Fuck, it's cold!" Izaya hissed, closing his eyes when water hit his head and face and chest.

"I think cold water is what you need to take care of that - of that -"

"Boner?"

"DAMN!"

May cold water it be. If it was another insignificant sacrifice, the price to pay to make Shizuo admit defeat, Izaya would have paid without complaining (though not without getting even). Izaya relaxed his features and parted his lips. He even wondered if he should go so far as to force himself to touch Shizuo, to trace his biceps with his own fingertips, just to feel him shudder into the touch like yesterday when he had brushed the bandage on Shizuo's neck.

When he reached out, instead of Shizuo's arm, under his fingers' pads Izaya felt the soft cotton of Shizuo's shirt and, through it, the outline of his chest, strong, warm, pulsing with a racing heartbeat that matched Izaya's own.

Shizuo reacted instantly, grabbing a fistful of wet black hair from the back of his head. A choked cry escaped Izaya's lips when Shizuo pulled, harshly, making him bare his neck.

"Oi. Don't joke with me."

Even without looking, Izaya knew how strong and dreadful Shizuo's eyes were, how ragged his breath was as he tried to contain his anger. It fanned across Izaya's lips through the rivulets of water, and shuddered through the palm now pressed on Shizuo's chest, nails digging onto the flesh, half holding on, half trying to reciprocate the pain.

And yet he laughed, choking on the water still pouring on his face.

"But this is nothing but a joke - and you know it, don't you, Shizu-chan?"

Shizuo didn't reply nor react to the emphasis Izaya put on the honorific of mocked intimacy, he just turned off the shower jet and shifted away from Izaya's touch. Shizuo's hand wasn't threaded in his hair anymore, but Izaya could still feel the weight of it in sparks of pain flashing through his scalp.

When Izaya opened his eyes, Shizuo's face was scarlet, the corners of his mouth lowered in a pout, eyes dark.

Yes, he's finally going away, he though.

Shizuo flinched.

Go away, leave me alone.

But Shizuo didn't run away, he seized a lilac package instead. He poured an enormous amount of shampoo on the palm of his hand and began spreading it on raven locks. Lavender scent filled the air, and Izaya found himself standing still, indulging in the touch of Shizuo's fingers in his hair. Before Shizuo had tried and failed to kill him, Izaya had always believed that the feel of Shizuo's hands on his head would be linked to his imminent death. Instead, for the third time in about as many days, Shizuo touched Izaya's hair without crushing his skull, and every single one of them seemed almost surreal - the first time the touch was supposed to be for his brother, the second was out of a sense of duty after Shizuo had thrown him against a wall, and the third, now, was for a challenge.

"Close your eyes."

Izaya obeyed. Shizuo's fingers combed his hair when the water jet hit his face once again, washing away the shampoo and leaving behind a sense of bitterness Izaya found hard to wipe away with rationality.

"What now?" Shizuo asked him once the foam had been removed from black hair.

"Soap. And that sponge," Izaya replied, deadpan, before he closed his eyes and rested his head against the tiles.

"Keep your eyes closed."

Breath shuddered out of his lips, scarlet eyes darting open, when a gentle, hesitant hand brushed his own cheek.

"I said to keep your eyes closed," Shizuo said, irritated.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm washing your face, idiot. Close your eyes, Izaya."

Instead, Izaya kept his eyes open and frowned.

"God, flea! Do you want that fucking sandpaper sponge on your face, hah? 'Cause that's no problem for me!"

Black eyelashes fluttered and closed, shutting out the image of that annoyed face in front of him.

"Good," Shizuo said, softly.

Izaya felt like crying when the touch came back, drawing circles of foam on cheeks and forehead, making his heartbeat speed up and his body feel hot. When fingers brushed the corners of his mouth he was on the verge of telling Shizuo to stop. But he didn't do it, god forbid, he didn't know if their challenge was still open, but he would have never admitted that Shizuo was overstepping the boundary he had built, brick after brick, since he had met him.

Despite how he fought against it, Izaya was conscious of the rise and fall of his chest, of his breathing becoming uneven when Shizuo's fingers traced his jaw before the man slid his palm to the curve of his neck, the touch soft and uncertain, the soap offering no friction, making fingertips glide down toward his chest.

Fingernails dug into the wood of the shower seat, in an attempt to make that pain numb the warm touch of Shizuo's fingers. Izaya swore they were driven by nothing but sympathy; the gentleness in them wiped away the hope there would still be something, anything of the pure hate that had always bound Shizuo to him. When Shizuo's hands at least stopped, Izaya breathed a sigh of relief.

When his eyes opened again, in front of him, Shizuo's cheeks were red. They were as flushed to the tips of his ears under still damp blond hair, as dark pink as his lips, and almost as scarlet as the tongue in his open mouth. His eyes were wide open too, eyebrows drawing thin wrinkles on his forehead. The ridiculous expression, seemingly frozen in place, drew a laughter from the back of Izaya's throat, because a shocked Shizuo was a funny Shizuo, a very funny-

- Eh?

When he understood what Shizuo was gazing at, between his own naked thighs, Izaya felt the same hotness on his face.

He was shamefully hard.

Despite the shock, Shizuo's hands were still right below his collarbones, washing away his self control and leaving him exposed, because now, not only had the beast seen how Izaya's body reacted to his touch, but Shizuo could also feel his heartbeat, frantic, loud like drums, like steps on a wooden floor-

The bedroom door opened.

His pulse beat faster across Shizuo's fingers because he could hear steps, approaching steps on the wooden floor - Shinra, Izaya thought. The door is still-

"Hello Izaya-kun, how are y-"

When Kishitani Shinra peeked through the bathroom door left open, his first thought was that Shizuo was just showering Izaya. Then, words died in his throat like somebody had just punched him straight in the chest. Finally, he felt shame, amplified by the awareness that his expression mirrored the ones of the two men in the shower. Because Izaya was - well, at least he's fine.

"Uh, I-I'm s-sorry! It wasn't my intention interrupt you! Um, what can I say - Have fun!" he managed to splutter out, eventually.

As soon as he turned to hide his flushed face, he heard two voices at his back, shouting in unison:

"IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK!"


"Nothing happened!"

"Absolutely nothing!"

They both kept repeating it after Shinra ran out of the room in spite of their attempts at explaining that this wasn't foreplay at all, that was - what was that?

"I'm leaving you some cash, I think you might need some - ahem - stuff!" Shinra had shouted from downstairs. "Use it however you want! Shizuo-kun, take good care of Izaya-kun but pay attention, he's still injured! Bye bye - make good choices!"

When Izaya took the money and put it in pants' pockets, Shizuo wondered if it was more appropriate to leave the money on the kitchen table where Shinra had left it. It was obvious what kind of stuff Shinra had in mind when he gave them all those bills and it didn't seem right to Shizuo use the doctor's money to buy something else. The thought kept tormenting him, even when he walked down the slope toward the village, holding the handlebars of the wheelchair where Izaya sat.

"It's Shinra who misinterpreted it!" Izaya said for the umpteenth time, shrugging as if the topic didn't matter to him anymore.

Of course Shinra hadn't understood the situation - he was only washing Izaya, right? And yet, thinking was a pain, because he couldn't erase from his thoughts the fall of translucent water over ivory white skin, the contrast between it and his own tanned hands, Izaya's heartbeat and his own, and Izaya was - and he -

"Damn right! Nothing happened!"

"Nothing at all!" Izaya repeated, his voice slightly more high-pitched than usual.

"Um, by the way, flea... Shouldn't we give Shinra the money back?"

"Again, Shizu-chan?" Izaya turned to look at him, his brows furrowed. "I've already told you why we're going to spend it!"

"But we're not gonna buy… that stuff, flea."

"Of course not!"

"So, um, I don't think it's right to use it..."

Izaya exhaled, soundly. "Listen, Shizu-chan," he said, articulating each word like he was talking to a stubborn child. "He didn't say we had to buy those things, ne? He said use it as you like! And we're going to use it as we like! Understand?"

Since Shizuo didn't reply, Izaya rolled his eyes and tried again.

"Listen," Izaya said, turning once again so they were facing each others. "Did he explicitly tell us to use the money to buy condoms? Eh? Did he say: go and buy lube?"

Shizuo felt his cheeks hot. "Well, he didn't exactly say that..."

"So..." Izaya waved his hand to prompt him to finish the sentence by himself.

"We can use it as we like - right?"

"Right! That's the point!" Izaya said, clenching the wheelchair armrest, excited like a child. "Ne, ne, Shizu-chan! How are we going to use it?" When Shizuo didn't answer, Izaya prodded again, "Ne, ne, what do you want to do?"

Shizuo frowned, trying to stop worrying about the money long enough to figure out what he needed. "Breakfast," he said after a moment. "Since I didn't make any."

"Right!"

Shizuo instinctively drew his upper body away from that strange, overexcited flea. But it wasn't so bad, he thought, he could still tolerate that kind of behavior. "Something tasty for lunch," he mumbled.

"Yes, yes!"

"Sunglasses."

"I want a furry coat! And a phone!"

"Hah?! We haven't enough money for that shit! And it's summer, Izaya! You don't need a fucking furry coat."

Izaya pouted, folding his arms across his chest.

"Smokes," Shizuo muttered.

"Eeeeh? That shit, to use your foul, infantile wording, is going to kill you sooner or later, you know?"

"You should be happy, flea."

"Do as you like," Izaya said, shrugging. Tipping his head back to look at Shizuo through piercing crimson eyes, he added: "But if you buy cigarettes, I'm going to buy a switchblade. I'd like to have as much of a chance to kill you as they have."

Izaya grinned, before focusing back on the slope ahead of them, replying to Shizuo's growls by humming under his breath.

Shizuo's mood didn't get better when they arrived in the village centre. Indeed, people began scrutinizing them. While Shizuo basked in irritation, sending suspicious stares left, right and centre, Izaya greeted every passerby with a dazzling smile, a bow and some kind words. With some of them, he even flaunted his abilities as smooth talker by having a whole conversation. A shocked Shizuo witnessed how the villagers' expressions changed in response to Izaya's kindness, smiling and bowing back to him, or stopping to wish him a speedy recovery.

A vein popped on Shizuo's forehead when a pair of teenage girls stopped Izaya after he had greeted them, to ask him his telephone number and if they could see him again. Izaya's cloying courtesy made his stomach churn, but succeeded in inducing a violent blush on both the girls' cheeks.

"Don't mind him," Izaya chirped when the girls drew back at the intimidating expression on Shizuo's face. "His bark is worse than his bite."

"Hah?! What did you say?!" Shizuo shouted, making the frightened girls run away, rushing their last goodbye to Izaya.

"You scared them. What did they make to deserve your anger, Shizu-chan?"

"I'm not angry with them, you lousy flea! You're so kind because you have something shady in mind for them, don't you!?"

Izaya didn't reply. He just murmured "Hmm, this place is really nice."

Talking with the girls had distracted him, but now he realized they had just reached a small square, with a tree in a stone flowerbed. Ignoring Shizuo's growls at his back, Izaya tilted his chin up to trace with his gaze the decorative moldings and elaborate iron gratings adorning the windows of what seemed a luxury hotel.

"I like it," he concluded, casting one last glance before a silent and strangely quiet Shizuo put the brakes on the wheelchair and walked off, alone, leaving Izaya behind.

"Still angry, Shizu-chan? You know, it's not fair leaving me here unable to move on my own. If you just planned to go for a stroll by yourself you could have avoided all that fuss you made this morning. At least take responsibility for ruining my beauty sleep and keep me entertained."

"Gonna come back soon," Shizuo mumbled as he walked away, hands in his pockets.

Izaya clicked his tongue, half grinning. His eyes were closed, ears focused on the sound of Shizuo's steps on the cobblestone when he said: "I remind you that I am the one who has the money."

With that, the sound stopped.

When Shizuo returned to the wheelchair and extended his right hand, Izaya flaunted one of his best smirks and shook his head, slowly. "Don't waste your time trying to explain me why you need the money," Izaya purred. "I won't give it to you unless I can see what you're buying. After all, we have to share it." Izaya tilted his chin up and added, whispering: "Too bad, ne?"

Shizuo reacted immediately, leaning closer to Izaya, probably to grab the money regardless of Izaya's opinions on the matter. Izaya didn't take time to process what Shizuo intended to do, he raised his voice instead, speaking so loudly that some passerby stop walking to look at them.

"Shame on you! Are you trying to steal money from an injured man on a wheelchair? Good God, you're the worst!"

After the initial shock, Shizuo turned his head sideways and blushed like a shy maiden at the villagers' scandalized and worried faces. Then, he looked at Izaya straight in the eye and muttered incomprehensible insults under his breath. When he eventually stomped to Izaya's back and grabbed the handlebars, growling like an angry dog, Izaya tilted his head back to greet him with a smile glittering with triumph. Not that Izaya liked being in the monster's company, of course, but pissing Shizuo off always proved to be a source of fun.

It wasn't just a coincidence that Shizuo had escorted him to a place filled with the scent of baked sweets, and once they reached a glossy window with an old-fashioned sign above, Izaya had the final proof - Shizuo wanted to leave him behind to spend all their money on his favorite food. Izaya was well informed about Shizuo, (though many things could and did still surprise him); at the very least, he knew what things the former soldier liked the most. He wasn't one of them, but sweets surely were.

Behind the glass, Izaya spotted a thin woman with round glasses and wavy black hair, not beautiful, but still rather pretty. She smiled at them. As the woman approached the main door, Izaya noticed she was older than them -mid thirties, he thought.

"Shizuo-san!"

Oh.

"Um, good morning, Kyouko-san!"

Casting a sidelong glance at Shizuo, Izaya put two and two together.

Back in the Military Academy, Orihara Izaya had collected the most information about Heiwajima Shizuo he possibly could - in every possible way. He was used to bribing plenty of people - comrades, doctors, nurses and even lunch servers - with the intent of gathering all of the information he could about the blond fighting doll, his sworn enemy. Sun Tzu, the Chinese military strategist and philosopher and one of Izaya's favorite historical figures, once said "If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles" and Izaya, being a strategist himself, agreed with all his heart.

A comrade once told him that while Shizuo didn't seem interested in girls of his same age or younger, he had a soft spot for the older sister type. Back then, Izaya had split his sides laughing at the idea of that dumb beast blushing over an older woman and set the information aside, because he couldn't blackmail him over a type of girl; he needed there to be a girl in the flesh. Now, years later, a dusty drawer opened in his mind and the information just flowed out. As soon as he remembered it, Izaya made an enormous effort to avoid having a devilish smirk stretched his lips.

"Is he a friend of yours?" the bespectacled woman asked, smiling at Izaya.

"Um, he's Izaya," Shizuo mumbled. "Izaya, this is Kyouko-san."

"Pleased to meet you, Izaya-san."

"My pleasure," Izaya replied, bowing his head as elegant and polite as he would have with a military superior.

"We're here to buy something for breakfast," Shizuo muttered, and Izaya couldn't miss the slight blush tinting his ears. "Oi, Izaya. What do you want to eat?"

"Hmm, anything not sweet will be fine."

As soon as they crossed the threshold into the bakery, Shizuo released the handlebars of the wheelchair and headed, stomping, toward the croissants. Izaya observed him shifting his weight from one foot to another and bending his back to evaluate from a closer distance which flavor choose.

Shizuo gave the barest hint of a nod and Izaya chuckled. Such a child he is, he thought. When the blond monster walked toward the cakes, Izaya chirped: "Shizu-chan, choose one thing only."

"Hah?! Why?!"

"Because we have a lot of things to buy, we can't spend all our money on sweets, protozoan."

If they had been alone, Shizuo would have surely gritted his teeth and tried to punch him. Instead, despite the slight quiver of a blond eyebrow, he just said: "Um, for me a chocolate croissant."

"I would like a cheese bread, thanks."

Izaya's scarlet gaze observed how the beast followed every single movement she made to gather the food they decided to purchase. She was so average and, somehow, Izaya felt disappointed, even if he recognized there was a pleasant grace in the way she moved and spoke. And her words, which were so kind that Shizuo wouldn't ever feel annoyed by them.

Izaya handed the money to Shizuo and observed patiently as the two chatted about the wound on Shizuo's neck (that's already healed, such a monster he is).

Shizuo behaved in such a shy way that, more than once, Izaya found himself on the verge of exploding in a burst of laugher. Shizuo didn't smile, his voice was barely more than a whisper, and his arms remained tensed at his sides. Izaya couldn't find the expression on his face more opposed to the one he had carved in his mind, the one that immediately reminded him of his monster - Shizuo roaring, grinning devilishly as he chased him with outstretched hands.

He is completely tamed.

His fingers closed into fists and a smirk reached his crimson eyes.


"Hair dye."

Izaya frowned when a package with the picture of a smiling blond lady landed on his lap.

"The roots are beginning to show," Shizuo muttered under his breath as he pushed the wheelchair through the narrow aisles of a minimart they had found few moments before.

"Hmm, I need a book," Izaya said, looking around while he fiddled with the food package containing the two sandwiches they decided to buy for lunch. It was a rather unrefined choice, yes, and if they hadn't such a ridiculously low budget Izaya would have chosen sushi instead, preferably eaten while sitting in a classy restaurant with air conditioning, and not on some bench facing the sea as Shizuo would likely insist on.

"Oh, there they are! Turn, Shizu-chan, turn!"

When they reached the tiny bookshelf, Izaya pouted.

"What's the matter?" Shizuo asked him. "Just buy one."

"Sure," Izaya said, turning to cast Shizuo a mocking glance. "Which one do you suggest?"

As Shizuo looked at the covers, a slight blush spread through his cheeks because, children's books aside, the only literature the minimarket had to offer was cheap erotica.

"Fuck you."

Izaya grinned.

"Let's go for crosswords, then."

A black and white magazine flopped on Izaya's lap an instant later.

"Now?"

"Sunscreen!"

"Couldn't you say it when I bought the dye, hah?! Now we have to go back!"

Izaya began laughing when Shizuo sped up the pace, stomping on the ceramic tiles. "Faster, faster!" He shouted, clapping his hands despite the stings of pain from his injured wrists.

After being scolded by the shopkeeper for running in the aisles and paying for their food, they came out from the shop with a vinyl bag and headed toward the nearest tobacco shop. There were still some things they needed to buy, switchblade included, even if they had already spent most of the money. When they arrived at the shop, Izaya exhaled bitterly at the sight of the steps leading to the entry door.

"I can carry you."

Izaya shook his head, waving his hand to make him go alone. "I'll wait here."

Shizuo disappeared over the threshold and Izaya exhaled once again, out of boredom this time. Then, he began searching for something in the bag to keep himself busy. His fingers caught on the cheap plastic of Shizuo's new sunglasses; they were similar to the ones Shizuo was used to wear before the night of the fire - light blue lenses and thin, metallic frame. Surely he had lost them back in the camp, along with the other presents his little brother was prone to giving him.

Izaya put the sunglasses on, and tipped his head so it rested against the seatback. Above him, in the portion of sky framed by the eaves, innocent clouds seemed perfectly still in the absence of wind. The sight made him so sleepy his eyes drifted shut.

His heartbeat caught in his chest as he was reminded of the intensity of Shizuo's gaze and the feel of his fingers sliding down Izaya's neck. If Shinra hadn't appeared out of the blue, making him lose the impressive erection Shizuo had managed to give him with just with few caresses, Shizuo would have never finished to washing him (with the sandpaper sponge from then on, thankfully) without dying from shame or, far worse, making Izaya lose his impeccable self-control.

Did Shizuo intend to wash him tomorrow too? And the day after, until his wrists healed?

"The joke is on you," he whispered to himself. What had started as a game, ended up leaving him vulnerable. It unsettled him, how Shizuo ended up uncovering a side of him so human and instinctive and powerful he wanted to bury it inside of himself forever.

Hence, there was no time to lose.

Gathering information was what he needed to do. Shinra, and even the beast's boss, from what he had learnt yesterday evening, and who knows how many other people in this village, must know something about Dullahans. Until his wrist healed and he was able to walk by himself, he would keep his ears and eyes on alert - on the world around him, and on himself as well.

And even if that plan failed, and Dullahans proved to be nothing more than legends, he still had a back-up plan: Shizuo would kill him. A hint of a smile stretched his lips as he realized how under control everything was, all perfectly planned, as always.

He was pulled from his train of thought when something small landed on his lap, followed by warm fingers brushing his temples to pull the sunglasses' metallic frame away from his ears. In front of him, Shizuo already had a cancer stick hanging from his lips. He put the sunglasses on and muttered something Izaya recognized as: "Switchblade."

Izaya looked down at the tiny object on his lap and furrowed his brows.

"Shizu-chan, you idiot, ask the money back! This is not a switchblade, this is a Swiss Army knife!"

"So what?"

The knife's handle was covered by a cheap, black plastic with microscopic glitter. The corners of Shizuo's mouth stretched with a hint of a smirk when Izaya said:

"And it's for children!"

Pouting, Izaya checked the weight of the object and then, snorting, pulled out the blade. The grip sat poorly in his hand, and the balance was awful. Then, he tested the blade sharpness, sliding on his thumb's pad.

"I can barely cut butter with this crap, much less your monstrous skin."

"Of course, it's made for children! But look-"

Shizuo kneeled down in front of him, and Izaya winced when the stink of smoke hit his nostrils. Gently, Shizuo took the knife from Izaya's hands and started to extract the tools hidden in the handle.

"Look, there's a LED light hidden here."

Shizuo's voice was so calm and relaxed Izaya wondered if tobacco had become a sedative to the beast's nerves. One black eyebrow lifted as Shizuo switched on the tiniest torch Izaya had seen in his whole life.

Totally useless.

"And then, corkscrew!"

Izaya rolled his eyes, but still let him proceed, half out of curiosity, half to study Shizuo's calmness from such proximity.

"Look, Izaya. There's a pair of scissors and a nail file! It's so useful!" Shizuo said, putting the knife back in Izaya's hands.

"Oh, that's very useful," Izaya replied, flatly. It looked like Shizuo hadn't got the sarcasm because, when hazel eyes lifted to look back at him, they brimmed with pride and excitement.

God, this beast is such a child.

"Oi Izaya, where do you wanna go now?"


A/N: Thanks to my beta, Aira Kay!