"Shizu-chan…" The name came out as an endearment as their bodies were pressed together. The blond kicked his pants off, his entire lower half out in the open. There was no ifs about it in the way he looked down at him, the ex-bartender was planning to have sex. Izaya turned his head away, his body longing for what he knew he should not want.

The blond didn't take the hint though. His hands ran along the expanse of porcelain skin. His rough, warm hands seared a path upon him, leaving Izaya feeling colder as the hands left. His whole being longed to be enveloped in that heat, to be wrapped inside all of that warmth and never leave. This was the monster of Ikebukuro though, not one of his humans. He would never love…

"Izaya…" the name ghosted along his skin with his breath, causing the informant to shiver in its wake. Carmine eyes turned skyward, meeting those golden eyes burning more fiercely than the sun itself. They cried out to him wordlessly, being answered by the red eyes below. Izaya found himself upon the precipice of his own emotions. Every lay before him, but he refused to look at it all. He began to shut his eyes again when the man's lips met his.

It was like the single spark turning into a flame. The fires of their lust consumed them. Izaya's hands gripped Shizuo's head, delving as far in as he could get, Shizuo's hands copying the gesture. They tried to devour each other's overwhelming need for one another. He wanted… he needed…

Shizuo pulled back, biting down upon a sensitive spot of his shoulder, making him pull upon the golden hair his pale hands were buried in. Hands ghosted down his chest to find his nipples, tweaking and teasing them mercilessly. The response was immediate and violent. Izaya arched into the hands, his body denying the informant's attempts to stop its chance at pleasure by wordlessly demanding the attention it had long been denied.

The ex-bartender sucked upon the skin, his tongue touching upon the flesh of Izaya's neck only to be gifted with a primal groan from the man. Shizuo's mouth drifted south, finding one nipple, his tongue running around the nub as his hand continued to pester the other. Carmine eyes looked down only to melt before the liquid gold looking up at him, that swirling need… that primitive, basic desire written in those eyes. It was doing more to the informant than he could ever hope to describe.

Time seized to exist. Izaya found himself yet again cast off in the spiral of his self-observation. It was always when Shizuo was involved when his plans, his time, and his energy was thrown like a vending machine. He couldn't remember the last time he had worked, he couldn't remember what he had eaten today if he had even eaten at all; there was only Shizuo.

Shizuo, Shizuo, Shizuo…

"Izaya… Izaya…" The name of the informant's turned into the blond's mantra, being repeated over and over again. Izaya's whole person burned worse than before, pressure building inside him. He couldn't escape, there was just so much building inside him. It felt as if he had been filled above and beyond anything he could possibly handle. He felt like he would burst.

He felt lost in his own skin.

This wasn't… this wasn't him from before. They were no longer the same. Why must the blond insist upon the touching up with reality? Why couldn't he just play into the games as always?

"Izaya…" Shizuo's hand wrapped itself around his erection and Izaya felt his eyes roll back, his body and mind going blank as ecstasy took over. There was no more thinking. No more plans or schemes, there was only a hand that needed to move or let him move or something.

There was a need stronger than that of any force and it depended on this monster completely. Shizuo… he had to…

Shizuo's hand gave a long, languid stroke, practically making the informant's toes curl in pleasure. A beaming smile was thrust upon the informant, rendering him powerless. "Like that, I-za-ya-kun?"

Reality was so far bent. Shizuo was his own time warp, destroying any form of natural understanding and stability that may or may not have existed before. The blond pressed his own length of affection against the informant's and cries of relief came from them both. Those warm hands returned to tangle into the informant's hair, pressing him close as possible as he laid claim to the brunet's mouth. He melded their lips together, a clash of their cocks rubbing against each other driving them mad with need.

And then Shizuo reached down, a warm hand wrapping around them, forcing them to stay together. Izaya's eyes shut as a hiss of pleasure erupted from him. Shizuo moved faster yet, faster and faster, picking up speed as he went. The pressure turned painful, setting his insides aflame. A finger found its way to rubbing his balls and it was only that much the informant could do to stave off that storm of an orgasm.

His mind's eye looked out at the expanse of the orgasm. The storm of affection that would be showered upon the blond. This storm was what so many of his beloved humans went for. It was more powerful and sought after than any god or power. It was more precious to his humans than any stone or metal. With just a bit more time, he could cast himself off into the seas of pleasure, letting the waves of his affection consume him.

Or he could pull away, trying to continue the twisted game of theirs further. He could try to push the blond out of his and their son's lives. The blond would fight back against him and they would find themselves at this point, again and again. It would be neverending until something happened. Until someone gave in.

"Izaya, I…" Shizuo rested his head against the informant's shoulder as he came upon their chests and the sheets. His climax pushed him across that boundary to the ocean. Izaya found himself thrown into the tsunami of desire for the monster that had been threatening the brunet for so long. His climax pulsed through him, wave after wave casting him under. His mind going into a fog, seeking out the blond mop of hair he knew so well. His hands gripped the man for dear life, his mouth latching onto the man for air. Shizuo kissed him back deeply, sending another set of waves through the informant.

"I love you, Izaya."

"I love you, Shizu-chan," the words poured forth from him, bringing that bright, sun-like smile to Shizuo's face. It blinded Izaya, the warmth, the sense of belongingness that that smile stirred inside of him… it scooped him up and cuddled him to its chest, creating these feelings that Izaya wouldn't dare try to comprehend, merely acknowledge the existence of.

Shizuo rolled over, cuddling the informant to his chest. The warmth of the man's chest took away the reality of it all, a sanctuary from all the chaos. Izaya winced, his shoulder throbbing as he moved to lay on his side. The reaction, spontaneous; Shizuo forced him back onto his back and slid a finger below the gauze, pulling it off and tossing it aside to look at the luckily closed wound over his heart. His mouth covered the ugly blemish upon his perfect skin. His arms wrapped around his waist a moment before the blond cuddled against his him, holding him close and throwing a leg over the informant's. Izaya found himself trapped underneath him.

"Come on, let's get some sleep. You're supposed to be recovering." The ex-bartender's voice was low as he spoke, drowsy. Izaya leaned his head against the blond's and laughed mentally a bit. Recovering… he felt like he had been given a disease, one that was infecting his mind, forever tying him to the monster of Ikebukuro.

Letting Shizuo in was not something he had planned upon, if he ruined this chance, well…

There were still things he could do that would make the blond suffer without Tsuki knowing…

~.~

"Finished!" Tsuki smiled at the picture before holding it up, "look Roppi! I d-drew a picture of you."

Roppi remained sitting on the blond's bed, looking around the room. His face remained the morose face it had been before.

"Roppi?" The blond stood up, discarding his picture to go to his friend. The brunet stared off into space, looking at the bedspread under him. His hands ran across the fabric silently. "Roppi, what's-"

As Tsuki reached out, barely touching the boy, Roppi flew away from the touch, He leaped from the bed and stood on the other side, his gaze narrowed.

"Roppi, what's wrong?"

The brunet shook his head, turning away. Why didn't Tsukishima get it? He had so much for himself. He had all these people he could easily associate with that cared about him. He had all of this. Roppi's eyes went around the room again before the coughing returned. He covered his mouth and coughed violently. His lungs were burning again. His stomach turned. He felt sick. He felt so awful.

Tsuki felt his heart leap into his throat, trying to help him from crying. Roppi was the first person he had met who was younger than him. Who was actually around his age; he didn't want to lose him. He watched the brunet tremble, coughing badly. His insides twisted at the sight.

Roppi…

Roppi wanted to leave, he couldn't be here anymore. He wasn't supposed to be here. Not with these people, especially not with Tsukishima. The blond had everything that he could ever ask for.

He nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, he looked over his shoulder to see the boy crying. Crying? Why would he cry? It just didn't make sense.

"I'm sorry, Roppi. We can do what you want to do."

He frowned at the blond. Did he think that he was mad at him? Was that why there were tears running down his face? Roppi turned in the blond's arms to look at him.

"Please don't leave me…" The sobbing boy murmured, "I don't want to be alone anymore…"

Alone…

Roppi moved slowly, awkwardly trying to think of how 'vatti' had done it earlier. He wrapped his arms around Tsukishima and hugged him tight, earning a sniffle before the blond hugged him back tighter. Shutting his eyes, Roppi let himself take in the moment, his coughing and pain receding.

"Please… you're the best friend I have ever had…"

Roppi tightened his hold, the words making his eyes water. He wished he knew what to say. He just didn't want to see Tsuki cry. Not ever again.

~.~

A/N: ROPPI! TSUKI! –sobs and wants to hold them both-

Tsugaru: -hands tissue- Shouldn't you be recovering? What was your temperature?

PI: …100.5 degrees Fahrenheit.

Tsugaru: -wraps kimono around- Just be sure to drink plenty of fluids and sleep instead of trying to write more chapters of fanfictions.

PI: The people, Tsu-chan… they needs me… -sadface-

Review~