"Why didn't you tell anyone you can play piano?"

They lie side by side, staring at the plain alabaster ceiling. Izaya's concentration has been fixed on a small, barely visible dot that irks the hell out of him until Shizuo speaks up. The dot, a spider, begins to crawl away to its corner, leaving only the dome-shaped light fixture alone in the center.

"Why would I?"

Shizuo can hear Izaya's hurt tone under the defensive gesture. Translation: "You never cared enough about me to realize such personal details." The day they'd been introduced, the minute Izaya had opened his mouth, the very second their eyes had met, Shizuo had hated him for no reason other than the loathing urge that overcame him to stomp over there and rip that arrogant smirk from his face. And, now that he thought about it, looking back, really, there had been no real reason. Was it at all possible that, if he had met him under different circumstances or if Shizuo had not closed himself off from the start, that they may have actually gotten along?

But Shizuo can't turn back time, so all he can do now is catch up.

"I dunno," he says with a shrug. "It earns a sort of respect, I guess." Out of the corner of his eye, Shizuo watches Izaya's lids slide closed over brilliant dark red that nearly matches the bedspread. He continues. "It's weird. To have known you for so many years only to realize that I never actually… knew you."

"Actually, a lot of people know I play piano," he deadpans.

Shizuo turns his body to face him. Izaya only turns his head, shifting dark locks along his brow and across the pristinely white pillow beneath his head. Shizuo doesn't particularly enjoy the sudden change in his mood but won't say anything. Instead, he's startled.

"Like who?"

A faint grin traces Izaya's lips to remind Shizuo of the old days.

"Dotachin, Shinra and Celty—"

"Celty?" Shizuo sits up on his elbow, then finally upright. He draws his knees in and grasps his head.

Izaya stares blankly. "What is it?"

"Celty knows? Aw man, I told her everything!"

Izaya laughs aloud, the tremor shaking the bed as he sits up against Shizuo. He can see every tone and shape of his muscles in the moonlight, and it makes him want to run his hands all over them — it's like staring yearningly into a display window of ootoro while he's in the middle of a diet. Resist!

"I feel like such an idiot," Shizuo mumbles into his arms. Izaya reaches over to run a hand through his hand, causing Shizuo to lift his head.

"Sure, you're an idiot." Shizuo frowns. Izaya gives him a warm smile that quickly melts it away. "But you're my idiot."

Shizuo suddenly dips into his pocket and pops a cigarette into his mouth. It dangles from his lips as Izaya gets his turn to frown. The blue lighter's flame turns his brown eyes molten for a few seconds until the paper starts to burn. Izaya yanks on a small fistful of blond.

"Now you're just an idiot. Don't smoke in my home."

He barely felt the tug at all. He takes a long drag and ignores Izaya. "I missed these. Withdrawal is—"

Shizuo doesn't get to finish his sentence as Izaya lunges for him. The cigarette disappears, replaced with his lips as he climbs into Shizuo's lap. He pries the blond's lips apart with little effort, and Shizuo puts a hand on the small of his back, pulling him closer. The new taste is hard to ignore, and he's not sure if he likes it or not. Izaya moves away and turns his attention to the cigarette that now hands between his own two fingers. He examines it, twirls it, hesitantly brings it closer.

"Jealous of a cigarette?" Shizuo cocks up an eyebrow, drawing the corner of his mouth with it.

"I've always wanted to try one of these," Izaya muses.

"Don't you dare." Shizuo would hate to have Izaya's health suffer from smoking, especially if his hand is injured; he doesn't know if that's actually something worth worrying about, as he hasn't done much research about the effect of nicotine on flesh wounds.

"Then quit."

Izaya cranes his neck back to meet Shizuo's surprised gaze that flitted briefly to the cigarette and then back. Smoke trails to the ceiling in curls and fills the air with a slightly toxic scent. Izaya's nose wrinkles a little, then settles; he hopes the smoke will be enough to kill the spider. His heart flutters at the sight of a glint in Shizuo's eye as his grin widens.

"Is that a challenge?"

Izaya places the cigarette in the palm of Shizuo's hand. His fingers close over it into a fist, putting out the heat, as he throws it on top of his vest on the floor. Izaya's arms wrap around his neck as he leans over the blond, fingers interlacing behind his back, small smile communicating the furthest reaches of desire. Their lips hover just an inch from one another, breath of each ghosting over the other. Torso against torso, longing for the warmth in the naked chill.

"When the knight saves the King's daughter, isn't there always some sort of reward?"

His eyes start to slide closed when Shizuo puts a finger to Izaya's lips.

"What do you like about me?"

Izaya makes a big show of rolling his eyes. "Do I have to?" he groans. His arms tighten around his neck as if he could choke Shizuo with his elbows.

"Come on, I compliment your eyes and all I get is reluctance?"

Shizuo's finger leaves Izaya's mouth, and suddenly he longs for it. But he knows what Shizuo is saying, without actually saying it — he's going to get a reward of his own, but, as always, Izaya Orihara must make a game of it. If Shizuo's going to play hard to get, he's going to make Shizuo want him more than anything he's ever wanted in his life, more than piano music or nicotine or whipped cream-laden coffee. Izaya straightens himself upright and pushes Shizuo back onto the bed.

"You're strong…" he whispers, putting a hand on Shizuo's abdomen. He senses a slight tremor at the touch.

"Something else." The blond's voice comes out strained. Izaya rolls his eyes again, then flicks them up to the ceiling in thought, tongue playing with the inside of his cheek.

"You're sweet…" Izaya lets the word roll off his tongue and revels in Shizuo's reaction. His lids flicker for only a moment, and there's a small twitch beneath Izaya's hips where he's straddling his waist.

"And…?"

Izaya chooses now to lean forward teasingly, hands crawling up his chest in a slow, seductive rhythm. His face hovers over Shizuo's as he moves his hips down a fraction. A hiss escapes Shizuo's lips, and they look more succulent than ever. Shizuo drags his tongue across them, producing a glossy sheen. It's goddamn enticing.

"You're damn sexy. Now put it to good use."

Shizuo pulls him down gently by the neck and crashes their lips together. It takes a moment to find their bearings, kiss turning heated and passionate as Izaya already finds himself shivering. His mouth drops open to let out a shaky, quiet moan, fingers racing along the blond's hot skin. Shizuo presses up and rolls them both until he sits between Izaya's legs, lips never parting, as he grabs his wrists gently and places them firmly over his head. He doesn't resist, but separates for air after a few moments.

"Shizuo…?"

"If you keep touching me, I'm going to go crazy."

His sultry tone sends shivers down Izaya's spine. He taps Shizuo's hand with his confined fingers, and gently, he lifts it away, setting him free. Izaya locks his arms around his neck once more and puts his forehead to the blond's. Shizuo seems a little apprehensive, but a smile from Izaya brightens Shizuo's cheeks.

"I'm fine with losing a little sanity if you are."