Bordeaux and the half-smoked cigarette
14. Truce (Calm Part III)
He hadn't brought it up until his Shinjuku apartment felt too big and too lonely, and his pride gave up caring.
"Truce."
It was pouring heavily, and his trademark due trimmed jacket couldn't Take anymore of the rain.
The blond Said nothing about how he knew where his apartment was, or why he had picked now of all times. Instead, he wordlessly opened the door further and led him inside.
Boxes still lay about the small but not shabby space,the only things present in the living room were a couch, coffee table, a lamp, and a small bookshelf half filled that was pushed to the far corner. An open box lay near the shelf, its contents slipping past the cardboard confines.
"It's nice." Izaya blurted, and immediately blushed from the embarrassment of having nothing better to stay. The blond arched a brow questionably "Yeah?" He put down something he was holding and turned around. "Want a drink?" He asked, back still turned and bent over a box.
He found the sight oddly distracting. His response was automatic. "Is it poisoned?"
He let out a chuckle that emphasized his slight smoker's rasp, and turned a genuine small to the informant. "I can still basic mixers, but they'll be virgins. You cool with that?"
He snorted "Lies! A bartender without alcohol is just a waiter. Besides," he showed the small plastic bag to the blond with a secretive smile. "It wouldn't go good with these goods."
The debt Collector stared in disbelief at the small plastic bag, almost going cross-eyed. "Don't tell me that's what I think it is."
Izaya merely chose to grin instead of answering.
"You just brought Marijuana to my apartment!"
Izaya decided that watching Shizuo's scared flush was more entertaining than every time the brute had ever thrown a vending machine.
"You do enough smoking as it is, its a win-win situation!"
"You just want another reason to put me in jail!"
"Oh please, where would the fun be in that? That arrest was a one time thing. If I sent you there again your chances of leaving are slim."
"I could lose my job!"
"Shut up and smoke some weed."
After a few gin and blunts, the pleasant buzz overtook his mind. "Why can't I feel like this...all the time?" he mused out loud, rolling around on the debt collectors floor like a puppy.
"I'm sure the stress of the yakuza trying to kill you at any moment would have anyone out of edge." Shizuo commented on an off handed manner, more detached from reality than the informant himself.
"Yeah, it is. I wish I had got to meet the missus. She around here?" Izaya craned his neck and dropped it back down to pull loosely at a stray thread on the couch.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" the ex-bartender mumbled from the floor beside him, brown eyes glassy with thought.
He shrugged his own shoulders mildly. "Rumour has it your dating someone."
"I thought it was establish before that you should always believe what other people tell you." he flicked expressive brown eyes to his own "Your a handful if you haven't noticed."
The comment made his heart throb embarrassingly
From some vague area in his chest. "Shizuo?"
"Friends."
"Huh?"
"You wanted a truce right? Friends it is."
"I'm sure that's the marijuana talking."
"Well take some responsibility, this stuff is amazing."
The informant took off his jacket, rolling on to his elbows and lay in his stomach to stare at Shizuo more intently. He allowed himself to laugh a little "And how will I do that exactly?"
The blond had yanked him down by the nape of his neck to an easy kiss that stole away his breath. He hesitantly returned the favor, deciding he liked the pleasant fog that had only clouded his head further with nice, tingly feelings. Orihara and nice didn't go together in the same sentence.
The ex-bartender tasted of sweet smoke and even sweeter daiquiri. The kiss was not electrifying, or erotic in any way, but it had its intended affect.
Looking down at the blonde from his lap didn't give Izaya the power trip he thought it would, but he dove down and tried to retrieve more of those tingly, nice, feelings for himself.
"I think we exceeded the kiss limit for casual acquintances." the blonde licked at his slightly swollen lips, trying to keep his smile at bay.
Izaya merely crawled away and tucked his head into his knees. The only part visible of him was his short cropped dark hair and pale hands.
"Izaya, what are you doing?"
"Reflecting." he muttered, response muddled by the fabric of his knees.
"Huh? What was that?" Izaya turned a sharp glare to the debt collector, eyes resembling smoldering red hot coals.
"We're going to be friends in the morning."
The blond rolled his eyes and flopped back down. "Whatever you say princess."