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There was no sound through the air but the moaning wind shaking the foliage and making the grass rustle. It passed as suddenly as it came, and the forest was quiet again, ink-black trees frozen while waiting for the wind again. Just for a moment, something moved in the depths of Izaya's eyes. It was a shadow that didn't produce any sound, leaving the silence unbroken.
Once again, Shizuo called Izaya's name.
The answer rose in the form of a little chuckle, low-pitched, almost murmured. It sounded like a speech, but no words were distinguishable alongside the repetition of a syllable, rhythmic and mechanical like a key being turned in a lock. Though a laugh is usually an energy-driven expression, this particular one sounded calm and composed. It didn't become boisterous even when it picked up steam and rolled faster and faster, louder and more high-pitched, to explode in a hysterical fit of giggles. It sounded unnatural, born by obscure feelings that had nothing to do with amusement. It was sinister.
When red eyes fell shut, the laughter ceased. Izaya's head fell sideways, and a second later it was as though he was boneless, all his weight settling across Shizuo's body.
"Izaya," Shizuo murmured, the tone of his voice deep but softened compared to the coarse way Izaya's name usually rolled off his tongue. "Are you making fun of me?"
Something unexplainable had just happened - kisses had turned into a creepy laughter, warm body into a shivering mess and, finally, silence. Shizuo didn't understand the logic justifying Izaya's actions, and not understanding was a bother. One blond brow twitched. Furthermore, Izaya's laugh had scared him, and fear along with confusion was annoying. Being confused, scared and turned on it definitely pissed him off. His fists clenched, his jaw tensed as his thoughts all gnarled together into a mantra of kill, kill, kill - he was angry, mad, furious!
"I swear, louse!" he snapped. "If this is another of your fucking jokes, I-"
Izaya didn't interrupt him with a mocking comment, he didn't laugh at Shizuo's reaction to his kisses, his lips didn't curl in a smirk - he was silent as though he was asleep. Shizuo's fists loosened, jaw relaxed when he understood Izaya couldn't react nor offer explanation for his behavior, because he had lost consciousness.
Shizuo turned and decided to lay Izaya on top of the wooden picnic table. He cushioned Izaya's head with his hand and lifted his chin so he could breathe more easily. Then, he pressed the pads of index and middle finger to Izaya's neck, searching for heartbeat. He lowered his ear close to Izaya's lips, holding his breath while waiting for a response.
Izaya's pulse ticked across Shizuo's fingers, rapid but fairly strong, while on Shizuo's cheek fanned faint puffs of air, smelling slightly of mint toothpaste. Shizuo straightened up and exhaled loudly.
While he waited for Izaya to wake, Shizuo couldn't help himself from wondering: If Izaya was just screwing around with him when he had decided to kiss his neck, why the laughing and passing out in the middle of it? Though this question tormented him, the real issue was why he hadn't pushed the flea away while he was kissing him. Shizuo knew right from start that Izaya was seducing him just to laugh at his reaction. Furthermore, Izaya's inability to walk didn't excite a mere grain of pity in Shizuo - releasing the louse and letting him fall on the ground wouldn't have burdened Shizuo's conscience more than putting an extra spoonful of sugar in Izaya's milk and cereal. It scared him that he had let Izaya do whatever he wanted. And, to add insult to injury, Shizuo had enjoyed it.
He frowned, both his hands threading into bleached strands because he could still feel the violence of Izaya's kisses. The cold night air marked the spots where Shizuo's skin was wet, as though Izaya meant to tattoo onto his enemy's skin how his lips had parted, how humid breath became the flat of his tongue. For some reason, Shizuo hadn't done anything to react. Even now, the memory of how Izaya had kissed him thrummed through his blood - it was the tension locked between Shizuo's sternum and shoulder blades, preventing him from speaking, thinking, breathing properly.
When Izaya startled out of unconsciousness, Shizuo's hair was already messy, blond locks pushed in a chaos that unwittingly mirrored the confusion inside his head.
Izaya's eyelashes fluttered over a blank gaze for a moment before the man himself jerked to sitting on the table. With wide open red eyes and parted lips, he turned his head left, right, and then forward, as if to search for something. He's scared, Shizuo thought. He had just noticed there's something creepy here. The road leading home wasn't visible from the gazebo, so it was as though everything was wrapped up in a black blanket of grass, bushes and majestic trees - it made Shizuo feel a bit cold down the backbone.
While Shizuo tried to find the right words to reassure him that they would leave this place immediately, Izaya slipped down the table to land on both his feet. He hissed, clenching a fistful of the fabric of his trousers, right above his knee. Breathing hard and groaning softly under his breath, Izaya headed toward the fence to reach his crutches.
Wide-eyed, Shizuo followed him, ready to help him in case he staggered too much to regain balance by himself.
"Are you okay?" Shizuo couldn't help himself from asking.
Once again, Izaya didn't reply. He seized the crutches and distanced himself from Shizuo instead. With his brows knitted, Shizuo ruffled the hair at the back of his head, because Izaya ignoring his questions once again fed the anger burning under his skin. Annoyance turned into shock when, instead of walking toward the road, Izaya delved in the dark trees beyond the gazebo. The thick forest had almost swallowed his frame when he spoke.
"Go home," Izaya murmured, his voice ragged, raw, deeper than usual. "I'll meet you in a moment."
"Hah?!" Shizuo barked. "What do you plan to do there, louse? Wanna go for a walk in the dead of night, in a forest, with fucking crutches?!"
"No," Izaya replied while he tried to put more distance between them as possible. When he turned toward Shizuo, the flea was wearing a smile so fake that Shizuo wondered if Izaya took the time to build his facade properly, or if he was too busy trying to run away. "Just start going home," Izaya repeated, pretending cheerfulness. "I swear I'll be back in a flash!"
What the hell? Shizuo thought. What the hell is happening? What is he planning? What the fuck is going on in his head?!
"What do you need to do here without me, Izaya?" Shizuo asked, flatly. "You come home now, louse."
He kissed me, he laughed like that... he fainted! Now he wants to go who-knows-where on his own. Could it be that he's scared? Is he hallucinating? Is he... terrified?
Izaya's behavior was like a jigsaw puzzle with no reference picture, a bunch of nonsense that Shizuo couldn't unravel, no matter how hard he wracked his brain. If something hidden in the forest had frightened Izaya, the logical reaction would be running toward the road leading to the village, right? The answer was yes, unless there was no logic to follow, unless the pieces weren't supposed to form a bigger picture... Unless the trigger lay in Izaya's mind.
Breath caught in Shizuo's throat, as though he had just woken from one of the nightmares haunting his sleep.
...Could it be that this is another panic attack?
"No," Shizuo thundered, changing his plan. He knew he wasn't supposed to draw to conclusions yet. However, if Izaya was suffering from a panic attack, there was someone who could help Izaya better than Shizuo. "We won't go home. I'm gonna carry you to Shinra's."
Something fell on the grass when Izaya pivoted toward Shizuo. His features were indistinct, but the moonlight seeping through the leaves caught the gleam of his scarlet eyes. Anger lurked in them like an obscure fire; usually it was subdued, but now, it was on verge of exploding. Shizuo shuddered, then his gaze fell on Izaya's outstretched arm. As he balanced himself on a single crutch, Izaya pointed the Swiss Army knife at Shizuo.
"Let me go," Izaya commanded, though the tone of his voice sounded more appropriate for a prayer, rather than intimidation.
Shizuo tilted his head back and burst into laughter.
"What do you think you're doing with a children's knife, Izaya-kuuuun? Trying to stab me, hah?! Don't make me laugh-"
The sound came first - it was the thump of metal on bone. Then came the pain. White hot ache scorched Shizuo's skull, and he kneeled on the ground with both hands on his head because Izaya had just hit him with the knife's handle, between his eyebrows, hard enough to make his head spin. That flea! That fucking louse! He cursed mentally, since nothing beside a mantra of "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" could pass through his lips. His shouts resounded, in crescendo, in the utter silence broken only by the faint sound of crutches on grass and Izaya's ragged voice whispering:
"I was close, so close - Come on, just show yourself again, one more time... Come on, come on!"
Through his messy bangs, Shizuo searched for Izaya, his hard gaze accompanied by the deliberate slow breathing meant as a means to keep rage at bay. He recognized the flea by the fair skin of the nape of his neck. Shizuo shifted to his feet. He violently shoved the knife into his trouser pockets and shouted Izaya's name with all the air he had in his lungs.
With his long legs eating up the grass, he reached Izaya in few steps. In one swift motion, Shizuo lowered himself, grabbed Izaya by the waist and tipped him over his shoulder. Holding the back of Izaya's knees with one hand and the crutches with the other, Shizuo turned and strode home.
Izaya squirmed, jabbing his elbows at Shizuo's back. He struggled, trying to free himself like his life depended on it. Shizuo's brows knitted and his jaw clenched at the pain still lingering inside his skull and, more than anything, because he couldn't find an explanation for Izaya's behavior. He was about to shout at Izaya to stop it already when he heard him muttering under his breath, with a small voice.
"Wait - I want to go back!"
Shizuo stopped walking. "You wish," he replied, deadpan.
"You don't understand, I have to go back!" Izaya screeched, beating with his hands and trying to pierce Shizuo's skin with his fingernails. Between the punches and elbows and scratches, Shizuo could feel him trembling, breath escaping through his nose and mouth in gasps. In spite of everything, Shizuo replied smoothly:
"At least give me a good reason, Izaya. And then we'll go back."
Izaya shook his head. "Put me down already - Please!"
For a long instant, Shizuo evaluated the idea that Izaya wasn't panicking but was actually searching for something in the woods - but what could it be, to make someone like Izaya beg to reach it? Nothing, Shizuo thought. The Izaya he knew wouldn't beg for anything, probably not even for his life.
Shizuo restarted the walk to Shinra's house, speeding up the pace. Izaya hit his back so harshly that he exhaled in a groan, but he still refused to put him down. He was running when he arrived at Shinra's door. Thankfully, the living room's lights were on.
"Be quiet, flea!" Shizuo groaned when Izaya squirmed and shook his head, so violently he almost slipped from Shizuo's shoulder.
Shizuo rang the bell.
"Shinra?" Shizuo asked, trying his best to control the red-hot anger from turning his voice into feral growls, since Izaya had just gifted him at least two dozen blows to his body.
Shizuo's back had started to ache and no reply nor sound of approaching steps came from behind the closed door. Shizuo pressed his index finger on the bell again.
"Shinra? I'm sorry - ouch! - I think I need your help!"
For a split second, he entertained the idea of kicking down the door. He discarded the idea one second later, because damaging the property of someone he was indebted (and grateful) to was definitely a boundary he must not cross. Shizuo waited again, taking Izaya's skillful blows while trying to catch the sound of Shinra's steps. Suddenly, Izaya stopped hit him and murmured:
"Let me go - I promise I'll do anything. Do you want money? I'll give you whatever you want. Just let me go back."
Shizuo shook his head and replied in a husky drawl: "You'll never buy me, Izaya."
"I know you're doing this it out of spite. But you'll pay for it," Izaya said. Before Shizuo could reply, Izaya's fists shifted under his shirt. The palms of Izaya's hands were a warm pressure moving down, tracing Shizuo's spine to stop on the small of his back. Shizuo found himself unable to exhale, his breath linked to Izaya's fingertips. He could do nothing but wait - for what, he didn't want to know. When Izaya's nails sank deeply onto his skin, he gasped. Despite how his back ached and heartbeat hammered in his chest, Shizuo couldn't miss the way Izaya restarted talking. Words came out in a whisper so low-pitched to send chills throughout Shizuo's spine: "I swear it, monster - I'll destroy you."
Shinra never came to open the door, so Shizuo turned and headed home. At least, for the moment, Izaya was silent, his hands clenching Shizuo's shirt. He was shivering, but Shizuo swore it wasn't from fear, or from the cold air. Izaya was livid with frustration, and he was surely devising plans to escape - but they all were doomed to fail until he was unable to run. Izaya was aware he was hopeless, Shizuo thought, and this was the reason why he was so furious.
Once in the bedroom, Shizuo made Izaya lay on the bed.
"Want something to drink?" Shizuo asked as he folded his own clothes in the wardrobe, leaving only his boxers on, as usual.
Izaya shook his head. His gaze was fixed on the door leading downstairs, wiped clean of every emotion. Shizuo wondered if he was finally going to cry, overwhelmed by frustration and repressed anger but, when he kneeled down in front of him, Izaya's eyes were dry.
"Do you want to share something to eat?" Shizuo murmured as he toyed with the Swiss Army knife and put it on Izaya's bedside table.
Izaya shook his head again as he began undressing, slowly, his gaze still unmoved.
"Fine," Shizuo breathed.
Black hair became ruffled when Izaya made the shirt pass over his head, but he didn't flattened them like he always did. His lips lacked their provocative smirk, sealed in an expression of unspeakable frustration. Izaya removed his shirt and socks without uttering a word. Shizuo waited to take his clothes and fold them in the wardrobe sitting cross-legged on the floor, head pillowed on his bent arm.
Izaya's movements came to a sudden halt when his thumbs caught on his trousers' hem before he removed them, and Shizuo knew he had to divert his own gaze. Izaya hadn't stopped out of prudishness, because Shizuo had always looked at him when he undressed and washed him. Shizuo knew how Izaya's body looked, to such an extent that he could build the mental image of the width of his shoulders, the trail of the slightly protruding veins on his forearms, the sharpness of his hipbones. Shizuo knew how the rivulets of water curled into the junction of his collarbones and glided down his chest to embrace his waist or delve between his bandaged legs. Shizuo knew how Izaya's body looked like, so the reason why Izaya couldn't stand his gaze anymore couldn't be embarrassment, but he swore it was linked to Izaya's decision to always wear long trousers, even when he went to bed.
Once Izaya had changed into his pajamas, Shizuo put Izaya's clothes into the wardrobe and strode to the bed.
Instead of laying on his back, like he normally did to fall asleep, Shizuo turned on his side to face Izaya's back. Izaya wasn't far from him; he could touch him if he wanted to, just by reaching out his hand, and explain him that he hadn't carried him home out of spite as Izaya said. Shizuo was pondering if there existed a word choice that could grant him the ability to communicate with the flea, when Izaya rose from the bed, grabbed the Swiss Army knife and searched for the crutches.
Izaya inhaled a sharp breath when Shizuo seized his wrist.
"Put the knife down and come here," Shizuo said.
Shizuo hesitated. He had no idea how he was supposed to deal with Izaya when he panicked. He wasn't Shinra, he had just picked Izaya up bodily and brought him away from the forest, but he didn't really know how to make him feel safe. He lacked experience, after all - when it had happened, a month ago, he had only held Izaya until he had fallen asleep-
Shizuo pulled Izaya back onto the bed.
"What?" Izaya said, a bit sharply.
Shizuo overcame Izaya's resistance by holding him firmly and making him turn so they were facing each other. Izaya's eyes screwed shut as Shizuo draped the sheets over both of them before leaning closer. As the inches of mattress between them reduced, Shizuo's heart reacted.
It wasn't a thump, and not quite a beat. It was the leap of a sparrow jumping upward to take-off. There was a flutter of wings inside Shizuo's ribcage now, fast and loud in his hears and, before he realized it, his throat was dry, adrenaline exploded through his body like a cluster bomb, self-control shattered to smithereens.
Yet, Shizuo tried to pay attention. He tried to be gentle when he encircled Izaya's torso with his arms, the hand that had gripped Izaya's wrist now molded across the nape of Izaya's neck, fingers tangling into black hair. He pulled Izaya against his chest and squeezed his slender frame. Izaya exhaled a choked breath so Shizuo released him, just as much as was necessary to adjust his grip, regulate his strength, unclench his fingers. He embraced Izaya again, more carefully this time, shivering ever so slightly.
Izaya's lips felt so near when they opened. Hotness curled under Shizuo's cheeks, prickling like a bad sunburn.
"Let me go," Izaya said across Shizuo's chest.
Shizuo closed his eyes and breathed out: "Shut up. Go to sleep, Izaya."
A question poked Shizuo's mind as he hugged Izaya and tried to relax: How are people supposed to enjoy sleeping while hugging? It wasn't pleasurable, at all. Shizuo could even bring himself to say he hated it. Izaya was too tense, his elbows were sharp in Shizuo's stomach, his knees too hard across his legs, and clenched fists felt too cold against Shizuo's bare chest. "I hate you," Izaya said, reflecting with voice and words the hostility in his body.
The feeling was mutual - Shizuo hated the flea in return, with the same burning passion. Yet, the words twisted wrong in his head to become I'm worried for you instead, so he just hummed, shifting in the desperate search for a more comfortable position. Izaya was all muscles and bones and tension, clashing against Shizuo's half-naked body.
Shizuo felt exposed.
Though Shizuo kept moving, he couldn't find peace. His whole body was on alert, sensitive to the tiniest quiver in Izaya's. The flea's scent was too strong, the muscles under the pale skin too taut. Izaya's breath didn't match Shizuo's own and if he tried to synchronize himself to him, Shizuo found himself lacking air. No matter how hard he tried to relax, the more he forced himself to sleep, the more he felt alert.
Shizuo had braced himself for a sleepless night when, suddenly, Izaya's breath changed - now it fanned out softly, with the rhythm of a lullaby, deep, wide and reassuring. Izaya bent his neck slightly, resting his forehead across Shizuo's chest. From the nape of his neck to his wrists, Izaya's shoulders and arms loosened. Fists unclenched and knuckles gave way to the pads of his fingers, thumb catching on the smooth ridge of the old scar Izaya gifted Shizuo the first time they met. Against his will, Shizuo shivered. Izaya rested his fingertips there and stretched his legs, intertwining them with Shizuo's. It was as though Izaya's tension was melting, leaving his body through his breath until he was unwound. Shizuo groaned, softly, and gradually relaxed across Izaya's body, his fingers shifting as they had their own will, feeling the softness of Izaya's hair.
Shizuo's consciousness fragmented into simple sensations - the fresh night air across his back, the slight coarseness of the pillow, silky strands smelling faintly of lavender, warm forehead and hands on his chest, Izaya's breath that now had the same rhythm of Shizuo's one. All the sensations coiled behind Shizuo's closed eyelids into a darkness that soothed and lulled him gently. He hugged Izaya closer, resting his chin on top of his head and, finally, a dreamless sleep overcame him.
Izaya woke to a tremor across his forehead. There was also something stroking and ruffling his hair. It felt good, and he would have drifted back to sleep, if it hadn't been for a rich sound reverberating in the air. Gradually, Izaya began to unravel words from the flow, though he couldn't quite catch their meaning:
"I've never heard him laughing like that."
Another sound crawled in, a more high-pitched and less pleasant one, cheerful to a saccharine extent. "Laughing, huh? Then?"
"He fainted! Ah, yeah, he laughed in a very creepy way - a lot creepier than usual. He woke up few minutes after, though. He seemed eager to go for a walk in the woods. It was as though he was searching for something... Isn't it strange, hah? He told me to go home without him, the louse. I stopped him, of course! I carried him straight to your house, but you weren't there-" The touch on Izaya's hair stopped, together with sound, as though they were somehow linked. "I was afraid he was having another panic attack."
A small pause left Izaya dreading that the pleasant sound had vanished forever. It restarted immediately after, deep, reassuring, and still near.
"What can I do now?"
"Hmm?"
"I mean, is there something I can do?"
"Well, if he doesn't decide to talk about what happened yesterday, and why he reacted that way, just let him rest. If you can, stand by his side, just like you're already doing! And also, if I were you, I won't forget to be veeeery patient. Don't stress him too much by poking him with questions..."
"Yeah... Got it." It sounded like a rich purr, making Izaya's bones feel like they were vibrating, sending him drifting him back to sleep.
The two sounds kept alternating in the backdrop of his sleep, but the words were blurred and indistinguishable. On the other hand, Izaya was too enchanted to search for meaning - the touch on his hair overruled everything. Sometimes it was hesitant, sometimes firmer against his scalp, parting strands and sending sparks throughout his body.
This time, Izaya woke with a jolt, his lips parted in a gasp. Both his hands and face rested on silky skin, smelling of a musky, sweet scent. If sleep hadn't unraveled itself from his mind, he would have snuggled down and fallen asleep once again. But he was awake now, so he distanced himself instead, only to notice that the same touch that had lulled him to sleep, now prevented him from getting away. Fingers were threaded in his hair, and a hand was pressed to the nape of his neck. Izaya's eyes widened when the deep sound he heard before spoke softly:
"You awake, flea?"
Izaya tilted his chin up.
Shizuo lay on his side, half-naked, head pillowed on one hand, while the other was still tangled in Izaya's strands. The unmistakable bruise-like marks on Shizuo's neck were already fading into a dark shade of pink; very likely, tomorrow there wouldn't be any trace of them. When their gazes met, Shizuo's lips molded in the hint of a smile. Something feral still lay in Shizuo's expression, but it was buried under layers of kindness, resembling sheer compassion far too much for Izaya's tastes.
"Are you okay?" Shizuo asked, his voice warm, luxurious, and mesmerizing like his fingers that now were gently rubbing behind Izaya's ear as though he was a cat.
Izaya nodded. The instant he wondered why Shizuo asked such a strange question, the memories from the night before all resurfaced - his mind unraveled the shadows of half-sleep and everything became clear. Izaya's palms closed into fist, knuckles pressed hard into Shizuo's chest. He jerked free and blurted out:
"Where is Shinra?"
Shizuo knew Izaya had distanced himself with a jerk too rough and sudden for being driven just by the desire to get up from the bed, but he didn't ask for an explanation. He limited himself to say: "Shinra's not at home. He said he'll be back in the evening though."
"I need him now," Izaya said as he seized the crutches. The word now came out harsh, grating slightly on Shizuo's nerves.
"We can go downstairs and call him on his phone if you-"
"No. Not by phone," Izaya interrupted him and stood up, the wooden floor creaking under his feet as he headed toward the bathroom.
Shizuo sensed the conversation was closed, and he knew he must keep his mouth shut, because talking with Izaya right now meant a one way ticket to a hell of a day, spent trying to blow off steam walking alone (while cursing the flea). Continuing to ask him what happened yesterday evening was useless - he should be patient, just as Shinra said.
"I'm not Shinra, but-" Shizuo waited for Izaya to turn to add, tentatively: "Wanna talk about something?"
Izaya chuckled. "What do you want to talk to me about, Shizu-chan?"
Shizuo's reply came out growled, like the preamble of a storm: "Oi 'zaya, don't use that shitty tone with me..."
The corners of Izaya's lips curled. "Or what?"
"IZAYA!" Shizuo roared as he exploded out of the bed, stomping toward Izaya until he was towering over the smaller man.
Izaya smirked as he walked past Shizuo.
With one hand, Shizuo grabbed Izaya's shoulder to make him turn. He miscalculated the strength and Izaya stumbled. Shizuo kept him on his feet by clenching both Izaya's arms. Izaya hissed, eyes screwed shut.
"Izaya," Shizuo said, softly, bending his back so he was face to face with him. "I can help you if you let me do it."
"I'm fine," Izaya replied.
"YOU'RE NOT-" Shizuo blurted out, just to turn his head sideways while biting his lower lip. Despite Shinra's suggestion to be patient, he was losing it already. Izaya only watched him with a hard gaze, while Shizuo clenched Izaya's arm and forced himself to act calm. He was still expressionless when Shizuo released him slowly - Izaya's mask was thick, cold as ice, impossible to pierce and to melt.
"I'm fine," Izaya repeated.
Liar, Shizuo thought. Izaya sounded so distant, so much further away than the few inches between them. Right now, there was no word, no gesture that would let Shizuo reach him.
"Don't worry for me Shizu-chan," Izaya added, his voice slightly more low-pitched than usual. "Now, if you don't mind, I would like to take a shower."
Izaya headed toward the bathroom without turning his head back. Shizuo stood still, frozen in place. When he heard the pounding of the shower, he realized his ears were vigilant in trying to catch alarming sounds underneath the roar of pouring water. Shizuo shot a last glace at the bathroom door, now closed, and went downstairs. Even if it was already lunch, he didn't want to lose much time cooking, so he prepared their usual breakfast instead.
The first weeks they had been living together, Izaya didn't stop complaining about Shizuo's choices in regard to food. Yet, they both kept eating milk and cereal for breakfast. After a while, Izaya stopped protesting and, the morning after, Shizuo ceased adding sugar to his milk. When Izaya's wrists were still healing, Shizuo spoon fed him in bed. Lately, they had begun to eat breakfast sitting at the small table in their bedroom, while Izaya looked outside the window.
Sometimes, Shizuo stopped eating to observe Izaya's involuntary gestures.
Even if the former strategist pretended most of the time, like every human being he couldn't keep everything under control. It was the few things escaping his attention that were the object of Shizuo's interest - the infinitesimal tilting of his head to one side when something out of the window gained his attention, the habit of biting his lower lip in concentration, the way his red eyes widened in genuine surprise. When Shizuo managed to catch those rare moments of sincerity in Izaya, an unsettling thought struck him and left him breathless.
What if we keep living like this?
The thought left Shizuo thunderstruck, because he had never evaluated the idea of a future after he repaid Shinra for medical care and the rent – keeping on living after what happened to his little brother by his own fault was unacceptable to Shizuo.
When Shizuo returned in the bedroom with two bowls of milk and cereal, the water had stopped pouring. The sound of ceramic clinking on the round table faded in the air, leaving nothing but silence between them. Shizuo sat down holding between his hands the lukewarm bowl, and waited for Izaya before he started eating.
He jolted when the bathroom door opened and, at his back, Shizuo heard the thump of the crutches on wooden floor. With a whispered "Thank you," Izaya sat down in front of him, and the scent of lavender diffused from his still dripping strands into the air. Shizuo had ended up buying the same shampoo three times already, because he liked how it made Izaya's hair glossy and feather- soft (even if he would never say it out loud.)
Izaya began eating his milk and cereal, ignoring Shizuo's presence, his gaze following the people strolling and chatting in the village's lanes. Suddenly, it happened - red eyes sharpened and Izaya, almost imperceptibly, tilted his head to one side.
Shizuo's teeth tugged at his lower lip, chewing on the emotions that gripped his heart since yesterday evening; even still, he smiled.
Life goes on, he thought.
Hazel eyes widened and he shook his head so violently that Izaya turned to look at him.
"Are you fine, Shizu-chan?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Eh? Ah, yeah..."
Izaya sent him a single questioning look before focusing back on the world outside, sipping absentmindedly from his bowl. After a while, he asked:
"Alfred?"
"Shinra let him come in and gave him food," Shizuo replied. "He's sleeping downstairs, in his basket."
Izaya gave the barest hint of a nod, and turned toward the window once again, lost in thought.
"Would you like to try again?" Shizuo asked while he poked absentmindedly the last cereal in his milk. "Walking, I mean..."
Shizuo's eyes focused back on Izaya, to observe his response.
"Sure," Izaya replied, flatly enough to make it clear he wasn't inclined to proceed with the conversation any further.
After they had finished their food in silence, Shizuo took a shower. When he came out from the bathroom, Izaya was on his feet, one hand supporting him against the wall.
"Wanna stay here?" Shizuo asked.
Izaya replied with a nod.
"Fine," Shizuo said as he sprawled on the bed, stretching out his arm to reach a pencil and the crossword magazine Izaya kept on his bedside table.
Izaya usually would leave blank the quizzes he judged too easy to challenge his intellect, so Shizuo was used to flip through pages of completed crosswords and incomprehensible puzzles to fill the games Izaya ignored - Connect the Dots was one of them. Other times, Shizuo simply observed Izaya's calligraphy. Despite the fact that Izaya often wrote without a table as support, the words were always legible and neat, elegant like the invisible drawings his fingers painted on Alfred's fur and on the back of Shizuo's hand. Shizuo always found himself surprised at how different their handwritings were, since his own consisted for the most part of sloppy lines. It clashed with Izaya's almost as their personalities-
"Shizu-chan," Izaya said, interrupting Shizuo's train of thought. "Stop chewing on the pencil."
"Hmm?"
"Yes, I'm talking with you, protozoan! Stop chewing on my pencil!"
Still holding the pencil between his teeth, Shizuo turned his head sideways to face Izaya who, while the blond was occupied, had managed to take a few steps.
"Hah?"
"Seriously, you have to do something about that oral fixation of yours, Shizu-chan."
"Shaddup!" Shizuo snapped. "And mind your own business, louse! 'sides, your fucking pencil doesn't stop writing after one or two biting marks!"
Izaya rolled his eyes, murmuring: "At least chew on the other three you almost crumbled with your monstrous teeth."
Shizuo pouted. Still pissed off, he pretended to focus back on the magazine, shifting the pencil to hold it between his lips. If only he could smoke! Izaya hadn't accepted any compromises on the matter of cigarettes. If Shizuo didn't care about his health, the louse had said, he was free to chain-smoke all the packets he wanted. However, smoking inside the house was strictly forbidden. "This is Shinra's father's house, Shizu-chan! Don't make it stink!" the flea had said. Shizuo's counter argument had been too weak to gain a chance to keep smoking in bed:
"You're already making it stink enough with your fricking flea smell!"
Back then, the quarrel had ended with a bitter Shizuo sitting cross-legged in the middle of the garden, an unlit cigarette between his lips. His back faced the window where Izaya was giggling in the bliss of victory, reminding Shizuo that, in the rush to leave the bedroom, he had forgotten to take the lighter.
Shizuo couldn't really stand him.
After the quarrel over bite marks on pencils, Shizuo left Izaya by himself and completed some household chores. He fed Alfred and took advantage of hanging the laundry out to try to take a smoke. Alfred joined him at a trot, head and tail held high. He rubbed his head across Shizuo's calf and reached out his forepaw to catch the clothes fluttering in the wind. Shizuo lit another cigarette and crouched on the grass to make the cat play with one of Izaya's socks. He lifted and lowered the black fabric to see Alfred leaping and bouncing and waving his thin tail back and forth. He grinned every time Alfred's claws grabbed the sock. To a particularly spectacular jump, Shizuo turned toward the bedroom's window, exclaiming: "Oi, 'zaya! Did you-" only to stop when he saw Izaya wasn't there as usual.
When Shizuo came back in the bedroom, Izaya was still doing the exercises Shinra prescribed him, instead of sitting near the window doing what he called human observation. This afternoon, Izaya's forehead was shaded with dark clouds from physical pain and, maybe, concern over his panic attack. Because that was a panic attack, right? Most probably it was out of concentration or resentment about yesterday evening, but Izaya's gaze never fell on Shizuo when the latter decided to lay on the bed to take a nap before preparing dinner and go to work.
Shizuo fell asleep to the thought that, at least today Izaya wasn't studying his beloved humans like they were goldfish in an aquarium. Though, sometimes, Shizuo wondered if it was Izaya the one trapped in a glass prison, reducing himself to be a mere observer of the life flowing outside his self-imposed cage - preferring loneliness.
After a while, Shizuo woke up with both his stomach and left side warmed-up.
Alfred was a tight ball on his belly - the cat had toddled in through the door left ajar while Shizuo was already sleeping - and Izaya was curled up, sound asleep, his back brushing Shizuo's side. Shizuo smiled, and his fingers found their way through both black fur and black hair, being careful enough to neither wake nor hurt them. Soon, the twirling of his fingers slowed down and he would have napped again, if the doorbell hadn't broken his half-asleep state. When he rose, Alfred mewled and trotted out of the door. Despite being a light sleeper, Izaya didn't wake.
"Hi, Shizuo-kun! Is Izaya-kun fine?" Shinra greeted him when Shizuo opened the main door.
Shizuo hinted a nod as the doctor crossed the threshold. "He wanted to talk with you. He's sleeping right now, though. Today he tried walking - it went better than yesterday."
"Great! I'm glad to hear he's doing fine. If he's motivated and keeps doing his exercises, soon he'll be able to walk without the crutches. Did he tell you what happened yesterday to make him act that way?"
Shizuo shook his head. "No. He says he's fine but... I don't know. At least he didn't try to run away or laughed like that anymore."
"Oh, I see... Come on, don't make that face, Shizuo-kun! He'll be fine!" Shinra said while patting Shizuo's shoulder. "I'll try talking to him later on, when he wakes. By the way, I managed to organize a day out to take his mind off his rehabilitation problems. Today, I met Kyouko-san's father, and he was ranting that he doesn't have spare time to go fishing with his boat and - eureka! - I realized this is exactly what Izaya-kun needs!"
"Going fishing?!"
"No, no, no! A boat trip! A whole day outside, away from that creepy human-watching habit of his! You know, Shizuo-kun, there are beautiful places near this village, unreachable without a boat - we'll carry him there! Exploration, adventure... How amazing! You'll see, you'll have fun too!"
"Ahem, I would really like to come but..." Shizuo paused. "Tomorrow I promised to help Kyouko-san with the shop - Y'know, with the supplies-"
"She'll come with us!" Shinra beamed. "Her father will lend us the boat and she knows how to drive it! Perfect, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I think it's a good idea. If she's fine with that, it's okay, I guess - Ah, Shinra! Another thing..."
"Hmm?"
Shizuo scratched the back of his head. "I need to go to work soon... If it's not a problem, would you try talking with Izaya this evening? I think he kinda likes talking with you. It's fine if you don't tell me what happened yesterday, I mean, I - I just wanna be sure he's fine. That's all."
"Yeah," Shinra replied, softly. "Don't worry about that."
Izaya woke up from dreams of shadows and smoke to an empty bed. Muffled by the drowsiness, he heard the faint sound of ceramic clinking, along with the approach of heavy footsteps. He curled up even more and squeezed his eyes shut when the mattress shifted.
"Flea."
It was just a whisper, a breath of air tickling Izaya's ear. Shizuo was close, strong body looming over his.
"Izaya, wake up. Dinner's ready. And also-" Shizuo's lips stretched in a smile across Izaya's skin. He breathed: "Guess what..."
Shizuo's mouth lingered on Izaya's earlobe, brushing it in an unintended attempt at seducing him. With a jerk, Izaya opened his eyes and turned toward the man leaning on him. Few inches over his face, Shizuo's hazel eyes gleamed.
"Shinra came here - ah, don't worry, he said he'll be back soon!" Izaya sharpened his eyes, trying to understand why Shizuo looked so excited. "Izaya, tomorrow we'll go on a boat trip!"
"...Eh? Why?"
"Shinra suggested it! He's a doctor and he said you need it... I don't know why, but he surely knows better, right?"
Under him, Izaya smirked. "A boat trip, ne? It isn't a bad idea - but did you forget you have to go at the bakery shop?"
Shizuo's lips curled up in a sincere smile. "Kyouko-san will come with us!"
Izaya turned his head sideways at the words, like they had hit him like a blow straight in the face. You monster, he thought. You devil!
"Hmm, it seems that I don't have a choice." The corners of Izaya's mouth quirked up in a sinister smile. "Can't you go alone, Shizu-chan? Do you think you'll miss me too much-"
"OF COURSE NOT!"
Izaya found it amusing, how easy it was to change Shizuo's mood with just the right word choice. Or, even better than words was when it was Izaya's facial expressions that ended up being the true catalyst for unleashing the beast's anger. Shizuo was all steamed up now, red from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, fists clenching the sheets.
"Don't piss me off, flea," he thundered. "You'll come, at least for a day you'll take a break from that fucking hobby of yours."
In the attempt to keep all the shards of his masks in their place, Izaya began giggling. Realizing that it wasn't enough to awake the monster asleep under Shizuo's skin, he arched his back in the sheets and burst into a hysterical laughter, the same Shizuo hated so much that Izaya swore, one day, Shizuo would succeed in killing him with his dreadful gaze alone.
Once again, he miscalculated.
What Shizuo did instead left him shocked.
Really, Izaya couldn't fathom the blond monster, at all.
A/N: Thanks to my beta, Aira Kay!
