Shizuo awoke the next morning to the smell of smoke.
His eyes cracked open to see a bedside table and a plain white wall. He twisted up from face-down, wondering how he'd even managed to breathe. His entire body ached and the morning light was worsening his headache. As he emerged from the bedsheets, the warmth disappeared, making way for the cool, dry air. Shizuo rubbed his eyes and groaned.
Where am I?
Shizuo tried to piece together the previous night, starting at the first place he remembered. Tom had wanted him to relax, and took him to a place called Freedom Bar or something… what had happened from there?
And that dream… Shizuo shuddered at the thought of it.
A bright movement off to the side caught his eye. Shizuo blinked rapidly to make sure he wasn't just hallucinating, but the red string was right there as not-so-solid proof. He nearly jumped out of bed, only to look down and realize it would turn into a compromising situation. Shizuo pulled the sheets back up over his lower body.
Izaya was standing at the open window, staring down at the street below. A cigarette— one of my last ones,Shizuo thought with resentment— lay loosely between his fingers. The morning breeze filtered through his hair as the younger man leaned his elbows on the sill and sighed contentedly. Most of this, however, wasn't the problem.
Izaya was wearing nothing but a shirt.
…Izaya was wearing nothing but Shizuo'sshirt.
As Izaya took a drag from the cigarette, he all too quickly noticed that Shizuo had woken up and was now staring just below the hem of the shirt, where it fell to only barely cover down to the top of the thigh. He smirked, vermillion irises dancing, and giggled, making Shizuo's head snap up. Izaya spun from the window and thrust his arms out, and Shizuo was thankful that the shirt was at least buttoned.
"Ohayo, sleepyhead!~"
He reached behind him to tap the cigarette ashes on the window sill. Shizuo was still left with his mouth wide open in shock.
"Man, I have to say, you went out like a light. Or a rock. A very heavy rock. Do you know how long it took for me to push you off? I almost couldn't breathe!"
Shizuo recoiled when Izaya propped himself up on the bed and started to crawl towards him, but stopped and sat on his knees, leaning in too close for comfort. His eyes slid half-closed as his grin only grew wider and sent Shizuo's heart plummeting further.
"Of course, that wasn't the only thing that had me breathlesslast night, Shizu-chan~"
The word came out as a quiet moan, sending a shiver up Shizuo's spine. Izaya stared him down for a few moments before bursting into laughter, clutching his sides and practically rolling on the bed. "You should see your face! Oh god, you're as pink as a slice of ootoro!"
Shizuo's look of embarrassment shifted into a glare. "Stop fucking around, flea. What's going on?"
"Does Shizu-chan not remember?" Izaya turned back and danced his fingers up Shizuo's bare chest. "Oh, this is priceless! And to think I might've marked this date in my diary as one of the best lays I ever had~"
It was at this moment that Shizuo's eyes stupidly wandered down to Izaya's bare thighs, creamy white, thin, and totally unblemished. He had to admit that Izaya looked amazing in that shirt– stop it, that's my fucking shirt!
"Like what you see?" he goaded in a sultry, confident tone.
"Like hell!" Shizuo grabbed the cigarette from Izaya's fingers and popped it into his mouth, got out of the hospital bed to find his pants, and hoped the nicotine would calm him down. Of course, Izaya was always there to be his anti-drug.
"Oh! An indirect kiss!~" He began to laugh with malicious glee and clapped his hands together. "I like sharing! don't you, Shizu-chan?"
Shizuo froze just as his pants were buttoned and he was reaching down for his belt. The grin started to fade from Izaya's lips. Shizuo sighed, voice low and hoarse.
"Last night… did we really…"
Shizuo jolted suddenly, feeling a pair of arms wrap about his neck from behind. "We really did, Shizu-chan, and it was ~*amazing*~. I'd say 'call me,' but I think you already have my number, ne?"
But… it had been a dream, hadn't it?
"Shit." After a few seconds had passed, Shizuo turned, forcing his stare away from the informant's body, and grabbed a slip of the oxford. "Give me my fucking shirt back."
Izaya's arms stayed straight on his shoulders as his eyes glinted dangerously and he fingered the buttons. "Already up for another round, Shizu-chan? My, isn't this a pleasant surprise~"
Shizuo's face went red, but he composed himself and growled. "I said. Give me. my fucking. shirt. back."
Izaya sighed, pouting and reaching for the pajama shirt lying haphazardly on the floor. As Shizuo turned, he replaced Shizuo's shirt for the other. The blond tore it from his hands. "Aw, Shizu-chan's no fun."
"Listen to me." Shizuo lowered himself to Izaya's level, narrowing his eyes, jaw clenching, as he roughly pulled the shirt on. "Last night was not supposed to happen."
"What do you mean by that?" he taunted, laughing mockingly. "Shit isn't supposed to happen, it just does."
"But there's fate, and things can't be avoi—"
"FATE!" Izaya laughed harder than Shizuo had ever seen him laugh. Tears were coming to his eyes, his sides hurt, he almost couldn't breathe anymore. "Fate? Are you kidding me? The monster, the legendary Heiwajima Shizuo of 'Bukuro, believes in fate! This day just keeps getting better and better!"
"I'm serious, flea—"
"Fate is a fairytale, Shizu-chan." Izaya reached down for the pajama pants and slipped them up his legs. "What would be the point of life if it ended the same way no matter what? That's not amusing at all. And if anything, I must be the antagonist to fate. My life's work is collecting information and changing the game board. My job would mean nothing if I wasted my time moving the pieces around all day, only for one side to win regardless of my moves. Fate doesn't exist, Shizu-chan. For my own sake– and let's hope, for yours."
Shizuo was left speechless, eyes finally falling on the red string of so-called fate that connected their fingers, their lives, their hearts, together. Maybe he really was hallucinating. Maybe it all wasn't real. This notion filled him with relief, but a small tug of disappointment still lingered in the back of his mind.
"Now, I would love to sit here rambling in your ear for hours, turning you red all day, I really would, but I think I've had my fill for one morning. You have work, right?"
It was this uncharacteristic moment of consideration on Izaya's part that suddenly threw him off. Since when did the flea turn down the chance to toy with him for as long as he wanted? After a while of hesitation, Shizuo nodded, frowning, and left the room.
As soon as he was gone, Izaya flopped back on the bed and smiled happily at the ceiling.