A/N: Hello guys! Just a quick warning: this is the point where the fic becomes quite explicit. I added line markers to delineate the smut scene, just in case.


Izaya slammed the receiver into its cradle.

I'm sorry, his father had said. He couldn't stand a word more, not when Shirou's voice evoked memories, ancient emotional roots he thought he had cauterized. He tried to bury them back with a deep breath that shuddered past his ribs, but they resisted him, thumped into his chest like an obscure second heart.

"What did he tell you?" Shizuo asked, quietly.

Izaya fought for his voice to sound normal, but he felt a cloud of grief clotting his throat, making every word brittle and shaky. "The signal was awful. I couldn't ask Shiki-san how to make you rejoin the army."

Shizuo brushed the back of his fingers against Izaya's, his hand solid enough to make him realize how tense his own was, so much that it was shaking.

"I meant, what did he tell you that shocked you so much?"

Izaya's gaze darted back up, held Shizuo's defiantly, but before he could reply, there was a commotion out in the street.

A sound thundered, over and over, slammed against the window glass.

It was reminiscent of the noise of thousands wings flapping, amplified to the loudness of a hurricane, though outside the window, there was nothing alarming in sight. Under the clear sky, the village houses sat shoulder to shoulder on the hill, as though they were old fishermen staring at the hypnotic lull of the waves. No bombs, enemies, or natural disasters lay on the horizon. It seemed a morning no different from any others, yet in the crisp, salty air the sound echoed like a mysterious explosion.

Izaya slammed the door open and ran uphill.

The corroded blacktop, cold and damp with morning dew, gnawed at his bare feet, scrubbed his skin raw and tender. Pain sizzled into his soles and injured knee, stabbed at the back of his eyes. He bit his lower lip and crossed the clearing with the gazebo, heading further towards the place where the forest started.

Here, the thick canopy of branches filtered the sunlight to a hazy dimness, like being underwater. The air became so heavy with the sweet smell of decaying plant matter it was hard to breathe, and the sound grew loud enough he could barely hear Shizuo shouting at him to slow down, to come back, to wait for him. He didn't – couldn't – do it and kept moving forward like his life depended on it. Though, it wasn't his life at stake.

It was his death.

The dense wood was the first barrier to stop curious people from delving into forbidden territories, but it wouldn't stop him now. Not when he was looking for the real boundary between their world and the wild lands – the only place that could give birth to such a nightmarish sound.

A rope slithered between the rough trunks. It was an aeon-old relic made of thick bundles of rice straws with tresses of blank, rectangular talismans hanging at every couple of feet. Izaya couldn't see where it started and where it ended, but he had read in his father's books that it ran for thousands of miles to enclose the changeless world of the wild lands and separate it from the mutability and brittleness of the human world. Legends said that, with its ancient magic, the rope preserved a balance. It let humans pass at their own risk but locked up the threatening creatures that roamed in the wild lands. Every time those supernatural beings tried to break through, the rope was supposed to discharge its archaic power and act as a physical barrier. It sounded like bullshit crafted into old, dark times, yet the sight in front of Izaya's eyes made the hair at the back of his neck stand on end.

Into an untouched forest at the interface to a forbidden, remote world, paper talismans shook like rattlesnakes' tails while the rope's fibers slithered on each other like pythons entangled in a mating dance. The sound was the result. There was a disturbing tone in it that elicited the elusive, unexplainable repulsion of ancestral fears.

It was an alarm, warning them that an enemy coming from the wild lands had tried to break into the human world.

Izaya wondered why the rope hadn't reacted that night he saw the headless woman coming out of the woods. The Dullahan even spent some quality time with Shinra, but he hadn't heard any sound back then. If the simplest explanation was the most plausible, all of this was just a well thought-out but tasteless prank and someone, a human being, was laughing their ass off right now. Izaya leaned against the closest tree and his hard, bitter laugh morphed into a hiss of pain. As his chin sagged on his chest, his fingers dug into his knee. What an idiot, he thought. He had strained his injured body to rush all the way here just to see a fucking relic. When had he become such a hot-head?

Izaya's heart missed a beat. Hot-head. Of course.

The head.

Celty hadn't carried it under her arm back then and, since without it she couldn't kill, the rope had no reason to react. If she was the one who had just tried to surpass the rope, this meant that she'd gained her head back, and that Izaya was closer than ever to what he wanted. He imagined himself on the other side of the rope, the Dullahan waiting to ferry him to Valhalla. The noise tingled through Izaya like electrical sparks that gathered at his toes. His heart picked up speed. He stumbled toward the rope.

Shizuo clasped his forearm.

Izaya struggled against him. Shizuo's raw voice was brutal against his ear. "I don't like this, not at all."

Suddenly, like someone had turned down the volume, the sound lowered, enough for them to hear snapping branches and rustling leaves coming from their backs.

Shinra and Shingen plodded between the overgrown vegetation in confident strides, like they knew the place. They acknowledged Shizuo and Izaya with a nod of their heads and kept talking to each other under their breaths.

Izaya felt sick to his stomach, because he swore they understood that the Dullahan was close, and there wasn't a better opportunity to make her human with that demonic sword Shingen had just brought home. Talk about timing.

Shizuo's hold tightened for a moment, claiming Izaya's attention.

"Do you think the rope is freaking out 'cause of the monster Shinra's father saw? What was its name? That mythological woman your father was fond of."

Izaya flinched, at the mention of his father more than Celty.

"They're all legends, Shizu-chan."

"I agree, but I'm still gonna check."

"No." It came out louder and shriller than he intended to.

In his nightmares, the Dullahan always ended up calling Shizuo's name. Izaya had lost to Shizuo the night of the fire; if she had to choose between one of them as the hero to bring to Valhalla, she would take Shizuo with her and leave him behind, alone and defeated.

He swallowed, and searched for Shizuo's hand. "Let's go home," he said.

Even if the Dullahan was still close, Izaya had to wait to be alone before finding her. Shizuo would soon leave for the army anyway, and while the protozoan sought his vengeance, Izaya would pursue immortality.

Meanwhile, Shizuo followed him through the forest without saying a word, holding onto Izaya's hand like an overgrown kid.

On the wind came the echo of people talking. A handful of villagers had gathered near the gazebo where the forest was still tamed by human hands - hands that now held red lucky charms. Their eyes all turned toward the two men like sunflowers following the light, looking at them like they had come straight from hell.

Several feet behind the small crowd, Tanaka Tom stood on his own.

Izaya tugged at Shizuo's hand. "Come on, we've got a phone call to make."

Shizuo squeezed Izaya's hand before he released it, and then strode toward his boss. Izaya tried to breathe out the tightness lodged in his chest and followed him.

When Izaya got closer, he noticed that it was as though Tom had lost color. His complexion looked ashen under his tan, like he had been washed out like the old, loose jeans and faded shirt that sat snugly on his slouching shoulders. Standing there next to his Shizuo, the contrast between the two men became mercilessly sharper, and Tom looked even more of a scraggy, grayish mess beside the golden hue of Shizuo's breath-taking beauty.

Shizuo asked him, "Do you know what all of this means? And is this… normal?"

Tom froze. He was utterly still beside his hands, one holding onto the picnic table he leaned on as though he didn't trust his own legs, and the other wrapping like a boa constrictor across a completely encompassed lucky charm. They both trembled, clenching and releasing like a pumping heart. He said in a quavering voice, "No, it happened only in legends. If it goes on, soon we'll all be dead."

For a split second, Shizuo's brows furrowed and his lips parted as though he was going to ask for an explanation of those enigmatic words but, eventually, held himself back and steered the topic toward matters that didn't scare the hell out of his boss.

They had already taken their leave when, at their backs, they heard Tom muttering under his breath. Izaya caught a few words.

Is she hiding between the trees?

They both turned, though they realized that Tom was talking to himself, gaze fixed on the forest. Izaya brushed Shizuo's forearm. "Let's go. There's no time to lose."

Shizuo remained pensive for the whole stroll back home.

The phone had just stopped ringing when they crossed the threshold. Izaya picked it up to redial the last number, mentally preparing for what was about to come. He exhaled a shaky breath.

He would face his father.

And then, Shizuo spread his hand on top of Izaya's, putting the receiver into its cradle. Their eyes met, but Shizuo broke it off and ruffled his blond hair while growling under his breath.

"Speak, protozoan," Izaya urged. "We're not in the Stone Age; you must use words to communicate."

Shizuo glared at him. "You heard my boss. And you saw what I saw, right?"

"What are you worrying about? You don't believe in the supernatural."

Shizuo spat out, "I didn't- I don't! But what if there is some serious shit going on?"

"It's a prank, Shizu-chan. Would you please lift your hand? This call won't make it itself."

"If you're so sure about it, why didn't you let me check before? Beside that creepy ass rope and my boss being scared shitless, you had a hell of a weird reaction. You ran away without waiting for me even if you're injured, and then you tried to cross the rope on your own- For fuck's sake, Izaya! How am I supposed to leave now?!"

"What do you mean by that?" was all Izaya could say.

"Should I leave like I don't give a shit about what happens here?!"

Yes, he should leave already, let Izaya pursue immortality without Shizuo fucking everything up as he always did – disrupting his plans and messing him up enough that Izaya craved to discover how much closer they could become if he postponed his meeting with the Dullahan.

Izaya smirked. "And so? What difference would you make if you stay?"

Shizuo's fingertips grazed his jawline in a perfect blend of temptation and torture, barely a taste of the strength humming in that fine-sculpted, powerful body. Shizuo tilted Izaya's face so that their eyes met. He said, "If there's some kind of monster trying to break into the village, only another monster can stop it."

As if you're one, was Izaya's first thought.

"Think about it, Shizu-chan, and do it fast, because the army won't wait for you. Are you ready to sacrifice your revenge when we're not even sure there is an enemy out there? Are you sure you want that?"

Shizuo didn't reply. But he didn't release Izaya's hand from the phone, either.

Whatever, Izaya thought.

Could he wait for Shizuo to leave when there was a possibility that the Dullahan was close? Could he wait, if Shingen had found a demonic sword able to rob Celty of her ability to kill? Could he wait, when his father had just woken up and said that he was sorry?

Could he wait, while Shizuo said that he loved him?

Izaya's eyes fell shut, and he tried and failed to swallow.

In the meantime, the sound had subsided to a low rattle.


Panic spread. In a few hours, a line of cars slowly trudged along the coastal road. If the rope gave in and broke, no prayer or lucky charm would spare them; anyone who could do so, fled. No matter if the alarm hadn't sounded again, not yet; the memory of that unsettling noise was like the shadow of an incoming storm on the horizon. Even Alfred was uneasy, growling under his breath and shaking his tail back and forth.

Under the velvet night sky, Izaya stepped out of the shadows of empty alleys and walked into the light of the lampposts that washed the seafront in a grimy yellow glow.

Muffled jazz music came from Tanaka Tom's pub; it was a sound of comforting ignorance, loud enough to conceal every potential alarm coming from the wild lands.

On the sidewalk in front of the pub's oak wood door, Tom sat alone like a volunteer sentinel. His lips clung onto a half-smoked cigarette with the same resolve his balled fist held a red lucky charm - as though it had a chance to save his life. Though, like nicotine, the amulet held no more than a momentary calming effect, and Shizuo's boss seemed to be aware of that. The deep lines between his eyebrows, the restless shaking of his right leg and the watchful, wide-eyed gaze all proved that Tom knew they were all in the hands of a bunch of old straw and paper.

From the stench of the overfilled ashtray sitting at his side, Izaya guessed that Shizuo's boss had been watching over the pub for a while now, hours maybe. To a superficial observer, it looked like a brave thing to do, but Izaya knew that he couldn't help himself from staying there, waiting. Tom wished he could take his car and drive to the farthest place reachable, as much as he hoped he could stay in the pub with everyone else, dancing and drinking his way into oblivion. But ignorance was not blissful anymore when he knew what kind of enemy had just knocked at their door.

And he must to know a lot of detailed information to be this shaken, Izaya thought. All things that Izaya craved to discover.

Tom replied to his greetings with a nod of his head. His features relaxed a bit, and Izaya took it as a sign that Tom wouldn't mind it too much if he sat by his side. As he did so, Izaya pulled out the lucky charm he had stolen from Shizuo's bedside table and held it in his hand, loosely enough to let Tom see the red and gold fabric through his fingers. As though Izaya had flourished a sacred image to a fervent believer, Tom's expression softened even more.

Izaya chirped, "All this drama is a bit too much for a godforsaken village, isn't it? Good god, I could have sworn that after those sailors, we should be okay for a while."

Tom gave a rueful smile and lit himself another cigarette.

Izaya waited. Watched a moth hitting the glass of the streetlamp at the other side of the road. Over and over, the poor thing chased its own suicide. He wondered if the moment before it died, roasted by the lamp, it thought it had finally touched the moon.

When Tom spoke, his voice was raspy, thin like his hope. "If something happens, protect him. Like you did with the sailors. You saved his life."

Of course he had saved Shizu-chan's life. To start with, how dare those fuckers touch something that belonged to him? And then, as a bonus, Shizuo's boss seemed to like him very much now, to the point of asking him to protect Shizuo. He barely held back a laugh.

"It can't be helped. I've known him from quite a long time and Shizu-chan is just like that… He goes on a rampage without thinking about his own safety!" It wasn't relevant to mention that the main cause of Shizuo's rampages in the past had been Izaya himself. "But despite that strength of his, in front of a bullet he's like every other man."

"Human." Along with a mouthful of smoke, Tom exhaled that word in the cool night hair. It took flight like it weighed nothing.

For Izaya, it felt like a boulder on the breastbone.

Tom went on, "I thought he came to this village all alone."

"I didn't show up here a lot in the past months. I was injured when we arrived here. If you hear rumors about a young man in a wheelchair or the guy that struggled to walk on the beach on crutches, that's me. We didn't meet before because the travel to this place left me with some serious wounds. It almost killed Shizu-chan, too."

He had gained Tom's full attention. "He never told me."

"We haven't told anyone about how we came here. I figured out pretty quickly that in this village some things are best left unspoken, unless I plan to spend my youth on a deserted island because I talked too much about what I saw."

This warned Tom, put him on guard. Izaya wondered if he had been too hasty in showing his cards but then, suddenly, the crease between Tom's eyebrows smoothed out, and for the first time since Izaya had joined him, Tom didn't exhale smoke but a breath of relief.

Talk about being on the same boat, eh, Tanaka-san?

In this village where nobody was allowed to speak, where the wild lands were a stroll away but were enough of a taboo to exile a man who dared to draw about what wandered there, how could the only survivor of a supernatural tragedy find some comfort? There was nobody to lean on, nobody to share the burden with. And Tom needed that, needed it so bad because, after he had almost smoked a whole new cigarette, he said, "I didn't mean to eavesdrop yesterday evening when you were talking with Kishitani Shingen."

"Actually, I'm glad you stopped Shizu-chan from questioning too much. It's for his own safety. You saw him with the sailors. He's too impulsive, I don't know what he would do if he knew. This morning, he thought about crossing the rope and kill whatever being had tried to break through to make the sound stop…"

Tom clenched the lucky charm to the point his knuckles turned white.

"He should never cross the rope."

"You heard him. He doesn't believe that there's something dangerous there. He didn't see."

"But you did."

"Yes, I did. Even if it's all hazy since I was feverish, and she was far away, the sight of her terrified me to no end." Izaya blessed Hamasaki's drawings since he had only glimpsed her in the darkness but saw her plenty in those drawings. "Aside from her lean and feminine body, there was nothing human in her. Not that I ever met a woman wearing a Victorian dress like hers or with a trail of smoke replacing her head. The legends say that she kills whoever she meets but, look, I'm still here, so maybe she's harmless and Shizu-chan can protect us from her."

"No." Tom was shaking now.

Izaya waited for more.

Tom spoke with a shaky voice, the cigarette long forgotten. "The legends speak the truth. My friends and I – we reached the place where she lives. Saw how she kills. You want to know how that happened?"

Izaya nodded, and that gesture assumed a final, absolute value.

Checkmate.


When Shizuo learned how to play chess, Izaya taught him the rules he couldn't break. One of them was that he should never request a take-back move. Once he had made his decision, there would be no turning back, no matter if he regretted it a moment later.

Now, Shizuo had a move to make, a decision to take, and he had to do it fast. No afterthoughts allowed. If he left for the army and his boss turned out to be right, Shizuo wouldn't be here to fight the enemy coming from the wild lands. If he stood here long enough to be sure that what happened with the rope was just a sick but harmless joke, it would be too late to join the army.

Like in a chess match, no take-backs allowed.

Shizuo already imagined himself crossing the Academy's door, remembered how his steps echoed in the grey hallways. He felt the weight of the helmet on his head, the coarse cotton of the uniform and smelled gunpowder mixed with sweat and the blood he would shed.

The drunk crowd dancing inside the pub morphed and became a mass of people fighting for their lives. He wondered what the faces of the enemies he would kill looked like and the glass he was filling with beer creaked under his fingers.

Terror pulled at the patrons' faces, deforming their features like those of his brothers in arms the night of the fire. Screams broke his train of thought. And that was when he realized that it wasn't just his imagination.

The sound had exploded, spreading the alarm coming from the rope.

In the darkness of the dimly lit pub, its nightmarish echo crept up Shizuo's spine in an icy lick. Like the fire in the military camp, Shizuo didn't think.

He ran.

In the narrow alleys, his stride collided with the lopsided gait of the villagers in pajamas dragging overfilled bags. Shizuo ran upstream, not to escape like them, but to find someone, fear flowing into a target like a river pouring into another.

And that was when he made his move.

Even if he wanted to rejoin the army, even if there was the possibility that there wouldn't be another chance for him to kill the men who brought his brother away from him, he couldn't leave and avenge Kasuka, not yet, because before he could do that, he had to keep Izaya and Alfred safe.

He burst into the living room and called Izaya's name, his voice broken. A weak mewl was the reply. The streetlight seeping through the shutters showed him a tight ball of fur nestled on the topmost shelf of the bookcase. Alfred looked down at him with oversized amber eyes.

Shizuo called Izaya's name again but, aside from the rattle from the rope and his own ragged breath, he could hear only a familiar background noise coming from upstairs.

The shower was running.

Like a puppet with severed wires, his body slumped back and he exhaled all the tension in a shaky laugh. Never, ever, in his life had he thought would come the day he wanted to hug the louse so badly it hurt. But it wasn't a good idea. He was damn sure he wouldn't limit himself to giving him a friendly squeeze if he were to interrupt him in the shower, after what they had done.

He had washed Izaya many times in the past months. He knew how Izaya looked like when water drops chased each other on skin that the heat flushed to a pale pink, though nothing ever happened after that catastrophic first time when Shinra caught them, at least not during wash time. Now, Izaya naked and wet and kissing him and moaning would have a whole different effect. He swallowed, heartbeat hammering in his chest, throat parched and his mind in chaos, because how could it be that he wanted and feared something so much at the same time? The primal part of him wanted to love Izaya until the world fell away, but he was afraid of how far he would go, afraid he would hurt him, or worse.

He rubbed the palm of his hands on his face and stood on tiptoes to take Alfred in his arms. After kissing him between the ears, he put him back in his basket.

Never in his life had he thought he could hold something so small in his arms without leaving permanent damage. Never in his life had he thought he could use his strength without being called a monster afterwards. Never had he thought he could take care of someone like he did with Izaya.

Upstairs, he hesitated in front of the bathroom door. Izaya had left it ajar, like a whispered invitation. He took a deep breath and threw it open.

The shower was empty.

Shizuo shut the water and shouted Izaya's name, emptying his lungs until he was at loss of air and his throat became raw and sore.

When the echo faded, the sounds left were his pulse slamming in his ears and the rattle from the rope, fainter now. That noise reminded him of this morning, when it had activated for the first time. Izaya had dashed uphill, and Shizuo had to grab him to stop him. Could it be that as soon as the sound exploded, Izaya left whatever he was doing – getting ready for the shower – to go there?

Shizuo remembered Izaya's first attempt at walking on his own. He had laughed like a madman, fainted, and then tried to venture into the forest by himself. Back then, Shizuo thought it had been a panic attack, but what if it wasn't? Who knew what had happened then and what the flea was searching for now. Izaya was a mystery, like the crosswords he liked to solve, like a chess match he would win anyway.

And yet, there was something pulling Izaya towards the wild lands. Was it pure curiosity or there was some other thing attracting him like a magnet? The legends his father was so fond of? What was that monster that Shinra's father swore he had seen called again? Thought it sounded like a stupid thing, seeking a monster; who would ever want to do that?

Even if Izaya had always pursued him.

When he crossed the clearing with the gazebo and entered the forest, his heart thumped in his chest like a monster approaching with heavy steps. With the hollow echo from the rope as his only guide, he scanned the darkness for Izaya's frame. Fear slithered beneath his skin when he couldn't see even a few steps ahead, much less any sign of the other man. He stumbled over gnarled roots that dipped in and out of the ground, moved away the branches that reached out to him like bony fingers, grazing skin and tearing clothes, warning him to not delve any further, until he reached the boundary with the wild lands.

Rays of frosty light spilled from the leaves to cast a supernatural silver luminescence over the talismans that moved like dying insects in last-gasp efforts. Their faint sound was the umpteenth warning that fell deaf to his ears.

When he crossed the rope and delved into the wild lands, panic had already forced his way into his chest in a fist of steel that ripped his ribcage open and wrecked every grain of hope. He couldn't think, wasn't even sure he could breathe anymore.

Until a sliver of light grazed the dark.

It lasted long enough for him to see the magnificence of hundreds of ancient trees rising from the sloping ground and disappearing into the starred sky like pillars of a timeless temple.

When the beam reappeared, intermittent like a guiding light, he followed it blindly, stumbling and falling, heartbeat pulsing, blood pumping in his veins, until the forest receded and he found himself in a plain clearing, a few feet below the hilltop.

A last stand of trees trimmed the crest, massive fingers concealing the view of the wild lands. On his right, the slope dipped, blanketed with a dense canopy that stretched for miles before the opaque sheet of black water. On the only road toward the outer world, the headlights of passing cars shone like lonely fireflies. In the utter darkness, the village stood out like the bitten part of a slice of bread, alive with hundreds of lamppost lights.

Shizuo felt a prickling sensation at the back of his neck. From the wild lands, the human world looked so far away in time and space, as though he was looking at it through a misty veil. He felt alone like he hadn't been in months. There was nothing around him beside uncontaminated nature.

Nothing but a shadow hiding between the trees, observing him in silence.

"Who's there?" He shouted.

The faint rattle from the rope was the only sound to permeate the silence until the whisper of a cool breeze shifted through the foliage like an invisible hand, carrying the smell of musk and sap.

The wind messed familiar black hair as Izaya emerged from the darkness.

Their eyes locked and tension rose in the air, like static. Shizuo felt it tingling over his skin, his body swelling with adrenaline as he took him in. In his hand, Izaya held the Swiss Army knife, open onto the LED flashlight tool.

An unearthly ethereal light shone off the skin on Izaya's face, which was set in a mask of indifference. He looked beautiful but distant, a forbidden being that Shizuo couldn't help himself from chasing, attracted to like a moth to the moon. As he wandered on the other side of the rope, where only supernatural beings roamed, Izaya didn't look like a man anymore, but resembled a mythological creature.

In few strides, Shizuo reached him. He draped his arms all around him to feel his ragged breathing, his pounding pulse, the warm breath against his own neck – all signs that the man in his arms wasn't an illusion wandering in these haunted lands.

"I made up my mind." Shizuo said. "I'm not going anywhere."

Izaya said, tonelessly, "Avenging your little brother is what you've always wished for, and now that I gave you the perfect opportunity you're holding back. What if there wouldn't be another chance?"

"I'll never forgive myself. Don't get me wrong, I want to kill all of them, but before doing that there's something else I need to do. I gotta keep you safe. Sure, though, it's gonna be a hard task if you start roaming into these places on your own. What the hell are you doing here?"

Izaya's stormy red eyes bore into Shizuo's.

"I don't care and I don't owe you an explanation either. You're so willing to protect me, someone who made your life a hell? Could it be that you believe that we're in a relationship now?"

Shizuo's heart thundered. The flea must have heard it because Izaya's shoulders shook in a mocking laughter.

"Poor Shizu-chan. That was only a fumbling, tentative, half-assed attempt at getting each other off while you didn't even let me touch you because you were afraid of hurting me. It meant nothing. You said that you came to love me, but I am no better than the men that took your brother away." His voice lowered to a murmur, but its intensity didn't need volume. "I will use you, hurt you, I will open you up and let you bleed. We're enemies. You should have choked the life out of me, and instead you spared me, forced me to live on borrowed time."

With that mouth that Shizuo had kissed countless of times already, Izaya spoke the words of a foe. Shizuo swept his thumb across those lips, feeling the softness, the hot breath. Izaya's throat moved and vibrated under his hand when the man gasped, the sound so small, so secret, his gaze going half-mast.

Shizuo smiled. "Maybe you're still my enemy, but sure as hell you are also a lot more than that."

Izaya was his nemesis, his friend, his lover, his everything.


Izaya's fists pound against his chest. The blow was powerful enough that Shizuo took a step back out of surprise, and to do so he faltered over a root and fell on the ground. Izaya climbed atop him, breathing hard, his eyes half-closed, dark, somewhere between sultry and threatening.

Shizuo felt suddenly confined. Izaya was far too close, the heat and scent from his body overpowering, dangerous. A blend of hate and lust. Moonlight glistened on Izaya's shuddering chest and caught his red eyes, making him look beautiful and terrible in all his raw sexual energy. Pulses went off everywhere in Shizuo's body. It was an effort to breathe. His cock throbbed in his slacks, straining so hard that he felt pre-cum seep through the fabric.

Izaya glared down at him, agony passing through his features before he leaned in and took his mouth in a bruising kiss, deep right from the start. Shizuo kissed him back, in hungry strokes that made Izaya react like a blaze to lightwood.

His white shirt was soon open and Shizuo felt the rough touch of his tongue as Izaya licked his jawline and sucked hickeys on the thin skin of his neck where the jugular pounded frantically. Shizuo screwed his eyes shut when Izaya climbed down his body, placing a trail of open-mouthed kisses on the scar that crossed his tanned chest like the heart line on the palm of a hand. And then Izaya licked his way down his stomach and belly, following his abs until, at last, his mouth closed on the tip of his clothed cock.

Shizuo exhaled sharply in the shock of pleasure.

His fingers brushed through Izaya's hair, moving the black bangs out of eyes that now were staring at him, burning with a fire like rage, or desire.

With his heart beating in feverish excitement, Shizuo pulled open his belt and pushed trousers and underwear down, baring his cock. Izaya's eyes gleamed; a grin flashed on Izaya's face before Shizuo curled the palm of his hand against the nape of Izaya's neck and pushed him right where he wanted him to go.

Shizuo still didn't expect the tongue that ran across the tip of his cock. He cursed, hips bucking up as Izaya's wet, hot mouth closed around the first inches of his length, and then exhaled a breathy sigh when Izaya sucked him deeper into his mouth, determined to take as much of it as he could. Shizuo groaned and Izaya released him, sliding his tongue along his hard, long length, following the thick ridges of veins until his cock was glistening and a drop pooled at the tip.

Control was a slippery thing that skirted away when Izaya looked up into his eyes. God, those eyes. Deep, electric. They made something inside of Shizuo give in and break. Shizuo clenched his teeth, even though he wanted to breathe, inhale air to calm himself, and in that moment of panic he reached out with his hand, stroked Izaya's hair, gently at first, then grabbed a fistful of it, and he knew he was fucking things up but he thrust his cock into Izaya's mouth.

Izaya took him in his throat, refusing to gag, and when he pulled him free was just to whisper breathlessly, "Yes, like that. I almost came."

Those words flashed down to Shizuo's balls, drawing them tight. Their eyes met and Shizuo heard himself saying, "Undress and show me."

Izaya's lips quirked into something too dark and hungry to be a smile as he stood up to tug his trousers down and off and then sank again on his knees. His cock was fully hard, leaking a line of pre-cum. Shizuo traced its outline with his knee and Izaya inhaled sharply through clenched teeth, arching into the touch.

Shizuo loved that he could affect him too; it made him want more. So he took hold of his own cock and stroked it once before lowering Izaya on it again. The rough touch of Izaya's tongue drove him so close to the edge that every cell inside of him contracted. When Izaya took him deep into his throat, Shizuo exhaled in a broken groan, his head tilted back, eyes scrunched shut, hand fisted into Izaya's hair, body arching as flashes shot across his brain.

And then all he felt was cold steel and hot blood.

Shizuo felt the blood run before he felt the pain. Then a glaring, bright, horrible thing awoke inside him, a monster exploding in a silent uproar. The cut wasn't superficial; it went deep. The old scar on his chest filled with dark blood. With his switchblade, Izaya had traced the wound he had made the day they became enemies at first sight, all while he was licking all the way up his cock.

Shizuo's body tensed, moved fast, went into fight mode. He screamed Izaya's name, voice and throat raw. Izaya landed with his back on the ground, the blade marred with crimson far from his reach, hard cock slapping on his stomach, smearing pre-cum on his black t-shirt. Shizuo pinned him there with his body, breathing hard through gritted teeth.

"Too bad, Shizu-chan." Izaya's voice was soft and obscure like a caress hiding the poison of hate. "I wanted to feel you come in my mouth while I cut you."

Those words made Shizuo shudder. That fucker. He wanted him, felt a spark of rage, wanted him more, his mind blank, the desire so raw and pure that he wouldn't last a minute if anything touched his dick now.

He leaned in and smelled Izaya's hair, skin, heat. Izaya's hand brushed his cock so lightly, yet it was incredibly intense with those red eyes on him. Izaya wasn't even stroking him properly, all he was doing was running his fingers from base to tip to make him even more sensitive, enough to make him strain against that maddening touch, aching for more.

It was then that Shizuo pressed his hips against Izaya's. Izaya spat a foul curse, one that brought a grin to Shizuo's lips and a tear of pre-cum leaking from his tip. The hard hotness of Izaya's length against him had Shizuo's cock pulsing, his fears leaving him as his hips rolled, driving his erection harder against Izaya's. The flea was the one to laugh this time, low and breathless and teasing, his gaze half-lidded, scorching.

"If you're going to fuck me, Shizu-chan, let's get it over with."

"Tell me you want it," Shizuo said, pressing his forehead to Izaya's.

Izaya moistened the corner of his mouth. "I won't beg for you to fuck me, so go ahead already."

Shizuo wasn't cocky enough to tell him, "We'll see," but, god, he wished to make him lose his mind. Izaya was the most precious thing he had.

He took Izaya on his lap, swept the black bangs back and kissed his forehead. Izaya nibbled at his earlobe, and then sank into Shizuo's embrace, arms around his neck. Shizuo groaned, his hands under Izaya's shirt, feeling the nipples growing stiff, undressing him from the black t-shirt, leaving him naked. His touch was feathery light when he ran his fingers up and down Izaya's thighs, teasing his cock with their proximity. Izaya jolted when he brushed his scars, fingertips digging into Shizuo's back.

Shizuo smiled, lips against lips, then parted them. With the first touch of tongue, he tasted him.

Izaya said across the kiss, "Have you at least the faintest idea of where you're gonna put your cock, Shizu-chan?"

Shizuo grinned, a vein popping on his forehead as he clutched Izaya's ass tight enough that Izaya gasped.

"Yeah, that's it. Now, Shizu-chan, despite I would love that you would fuck me raw, I'm not a woman. You can't stick your big cock up my ass just like that, unless you changed your mind about killing me."

Shizuo growled; Izaya burst out laughing.

Whispered words were accompanied by warm breath across his earlobe when Izaya explained him how Shizuo could make up for the fact that he had no fucking idea about how to proceed from here. Shizuo shuddered at what was to come, felt himself harden even more, but this wasn't about him. It wouldn't be about him until he knew Izaya was ready.

Shizuo slipped three fingers between Izaya's lips and his bottom row of teeth, slid them inside his mouth, and Izaya glided his tongue around them. Under the black lashes, his eyes were dark with desire.

Izaya arched against his chest when Shizuo ran a hand over his hips and under his ass, lifting him to rest his slick fingers along his crack. Shizuo touched the pucker, lightly as a chaste kiss, then circled it with one rough fingerprint. When it slipped into that tight heat, Izaya sighed, low and rough.

No way, had been Shizuo's first thought. No fucking way he could fit in there without breaking him.

Izaya's mouth was close enough that when he spoke, their lips brushed. "It's gonna fit. Now move," he said breathlessly.

Shizuo started sliding in and out, like Izaya had told him to do. The slow motion of his finger made Izaya roll his shoulders and hips, and smother his moans into the thrusts of his tongue into Shizuo's mouth, in a kiss that became even hungrier and more desperate when Shizuo added another finger and pumped them, hard and deep.

"Fuck." Izaya pushed down onto his fingers, back arching. "Now, Shizuo… Press. Hard. There."

Shizuo could feel something different in that tight heat. He curled his fingers and pushed it. And that was when Izaya cursed. Shizuo shivered, pressed that spot more deliberately, and Izaya's lips parted in a silent scream.

"Feel good?"

"Yes." Izaya spat out. "But it's enough. Put it in."

Shizuo slid his shirt off his shoulders and threw it on the ground so Izaya could lay on it. Izaya raised onto his elbows and knees and looked back at him with a wry smile on his face. Shizuo gripped Izaya by the back of the neck and pushed him down until Izaya's cheek rested against the white fabric. His slick cockhead slid over his crack. Shizuo's other hand dug into Izaya's hip, bicep tense.

Izaya looked back at him, his expression lay open, bare, lips swollen and hair a mess, before he hid his face on his bent forearms, getting ready for what was about to come. A mirage of pleasure between the meadows of agony. He was still too tight. Shizuo wanted to be gentle, to treasure him, but he was way over the limit where pleasure burned and what lay ahead was unpredictable like the sight over a hill.

Shizuo angled his head at his wet opening, delaying as long as much as he could stand, because he feared what it might happen if he allowed himself to do it, until Izaya tried to push back, and then turned his head, eyes on him – angry, burning like dying stars.

Shizuo lost his mind, then. Lost control. He thrust deep; the tightness drew him in, straining to accept his girth. A ragged cry slipped from Izaya's lips. Shizuo thrashed his head back and sunk deeper, inch after inch. No pause. Izaya's chest slid further down, leaning on the ground, fists clenched on his shirt. "So full," Izaya breathed. His voice broke the deeper Shizuo went. "Splitting me apart."

Fear echoed in Izaya's words with that giggling voice. Shizuo passed his open hands all over Izaya's body and wiped it away like steam on a mirror.

The legs he touched now were the same as first time he had washed him. The patches of velvet skin between the gauze thrummed with the toned muscles of an unreachable runner.

Arms, holding onto him tightly enough to steal his breath when Shizuo had saved him from drowning.

Hands. Izaya's fingers curling across his switchblade and saving his life.

Heart, making his jugular hammer under the palm of Shizuo's hand when Izaya fought for his own life while Shizuo choked him.

Lips, kissing his neck, kissing him; they soothed and hurt at the same time.

Mouth that spoke words sharper than any blade.

There was such strength in that arching back and those buckling knees, as Izaya reacted to his touch with shivers and moans. Izaya had the body of a warrior; it was never defenseless, even when vulnerable and open like now, and this knowledge sharpened the edges of Shizuo's hunger. Making Izaya his while struggling to hold the reins of his own strength wasn't enough. He wanted to put himself into this man's hands, trust himself to him, completely. Because it wouldn't hurt him. Because Izaya needed it. Deserved it.

Shizuo snarled and started to fuck him.

He snapped his hips, pulling his cock out just enough to make Izaya feel the lack of him before filling him again with another insane thrust. The awe in Izaya's moans was so raw.

With every impact of Shizuo's hips against his ass, Izaya clenched. The tight heat around Shizuo's cock drove Shizuo to fuck him faster, deeper, until sweat merged with the blood on his chest, dripped down his torso and ran on Izaya's back, until his taut muscles trembled with the electrical storm cracking along his nerves and Izaya couldn't take a full breath before he forced it out of his lips.

"Izaya," he demanded, brushing his fingertips over Izaya's jawline with a tenderness that he didn't know he had in him now. "Look at me."

Izaya turned but kept his eyes shut. Messy strands fell over his forehead beaded with sweat and his complexion was on fire.

Shizuo's fingers slid down Izaya's face to his stomach, the palm of his hand encircling the tip of Izaya's cock. It was sopping with pre-cum. Izaya arched his back, his mouth opened, his ring clamped around the root of Shizuo's cock.

"Open your eyes," he breathed.

Izaya looked at him and all his breath escaped Shizuo. Something lit that scarlet gaze, a supreme intensity, turning those eyes into centers of gravity.

Shizuo pressed Izaya against the ground, jerking him off hard, fucking him harder, mouth sucking his earlobe and then his neck, memorizing the way Izaya's muscles shook with the thrusts and his black hair twisted and eyes darted up as he tried to close the distance between them through the only way he could use his unleashed force without hurting, wounding, destroying.

Izaya cried out. He shuddered, stammered breathless, semi-coherent words. His ass clenched around Shizuo's cock as he jerked and started coming, hard, spilling hot, wet seed all over Shizuo's hand.

Shizuo pulled back his full length once again and drove his cock into that tight ring, groaning between clenched teeth and pinning Izaya to the ground as he tried to reach the deepest place inside of him. He bit the back of his neck, eyes screwed shut as his orgasm bled into Izaya's. Pleasure crested to the tip of pain, a firestorm blazing through muscles and nerves, and then rolled back, letting him catch his breath.

When the high faded, Shizuo dragged his tongue on the bite and his touch down Izaya's body. Still buried in Izaya, shivers raced up and down his frame, his skin cooling like embers turning to dust.

The forest was suddenly quiet, the rattle long gone.

There was a lump in his throat and his eyes burned slightly when he put his forehead to Izaya's. For a long while they lay that way, hands threading into hair, lips just grazing, cum and sweat and blood sliding hot between them.

Shizuo exhaled in a shaky laugh and tasted Izaya's tongue and mouth, the smile tugging at his lips growing bolder and bolder with every gentle bite, slow kiss and quiet exchange of breaths.


Izaya wanted to kill Shizuo, destroy him, and absolutely needed him.

If only Izaya hadn't showed himself before, but had kept walking; he would have crossed the hilltop and Shizuo wouldn't have been able to find him in these archaic lands. But he had heard Shizuo searching for him, and he couldn't resist the temptation. He couldn't go to Valhalla without feeling that intensity on his own body; he needed closure. Did he felt weak for giving in? Yes. But it was worth it. Shizuo had bitten him and fucked him so hard he wouldn't ever forget it.

And now, he wouldn't be able to get enough of him. He was tired and sore but he didn't care, didn't need the tenderness. He wanted that ache, again.

Izaya wanted to watch his face, wanted Shizuo to fuck his mouth with his tongue while he fucked him with his cock. Too bad that he had robbed himself of the opportunity to see Shizuo's face as he rammed into him for the first time, but it would have been too much. He wouldn't have lasted a minute.

Izaya straddled him. Hazel eyes were feverish slits when Izaya took hold of Shizuo's cock and drove it inside himself, all at once, making tears of cum gush out of his asshole and slide down his thighs. Shizuo groaned and bucked his hips; that thrust split Izaya in two, but Izaya still pushed down, forced more of Shizuo into himself. His monster felt so hot, so filling inside of him. It was too much, too fast, but at the same time it was perfect to have Shizuo soldered to himself, one last time.

Izaya grinned and, even without knowing the reason, Shizuo smiled back at him.

That was when Izaya felt his defenses crumbling like sand, clogging his throat. That smile was everywhere on Shizuo's face - on his lips, in the glittery eyes, in his flushed cheeks - and, fuck, something in it made Izaya fall apart and crave for a kind of pain that he could stand. Physical, raw, brutal enough to make him forget about what he would do and whom he wanted to become.

He needed to feel his entire body and mind narrowing down to the ache under the scorching lust, because pleasure alone made him feel an emotion so clear it almost shaped into words in his mind. He pushed it back, tried to deny it, even if it was bright enough to make him gasp and writhe and burn so hot for him that not even all the seed he spilled for him could ever douse the fire it lit. And this wouldn't do. He yearned for something he could control: he needed the pain, and needed it now.

And that was when Izaya begged, Shizuo's name a breathless gasp.

Shizuo wrapped his hand around the nape of his neck, in the place where he had bitten him before, yanked his head down and took his mouth in a hard kiss, rough enough to make Izaya surrender to him. Back in full control once again, Shizuo pushed Izaya with his back on the ground and when he filled him whole, Izaya's cries were muffled by his mouth.

With each following thrust, the crude, raw, exquisite pain turned the area between Izaya's ass to the tip of his cock into a huge, exposed nerve. Izaya draped his arms all over him and hang on as Shizuo took him apart. Arousal became so extreme it drove his brain mad, but he needed those hands, the scent and hot hardness of that body, everywhere.

"What are you feeling, Izaya?" Shizuo's breath was warm against the thin skin of his neck. Izaya's bruised lips tingled. "Tell me what you feel when I'm inside of you."

He hoped Shizuo wasn't expecting an answer because he wouldn't ever admit that he loved it, loved the violent need driving Shizuo into his body and search his own release inside of him. He loved the blood flowing from the cut on Shizuo's chest, the sting from where he had been biting him. He loved the way his own cock slapped against his stomach and the ache in his hips as he clamped his legs around Shizuo's waist. Loved that it was all for him, loved it so much that he felt torn between competing impulses, poles apart from one another.

Shizuo's voice calling his name was the siren's call of a mortal life at the mercy of emotions and human weaknesses. The archaic magic of the wild lands whispered at him about death with the possibility of an immortal life, an existence floating in an endless, calm sea. They promised him a safe way out.

"You know, Shizu-chan," he could barely speak now, but there was no more time left. He pressed his palm on Shizuo's chest and smeared dark blood above his heart. "This is a reminder."

He cried out when Shizuo's mouth slid across his own right after that. Curling his fingers into golden hair, Izaya surrendered to all Shizuo was doing to him. Shizuo fucked him mercilessly, with an urgency that felt like rage, until Izaya was crying with the intensity of feeling him sink into himself, thrust after thrust, his muscles flexed, sweating and breathing shallowly. His massive cock thrust against his prostate and delivered a surge of pleasure and pain that made Izaya's eyes roll back.

"You belong to me," Izaya muttered. "You're mine."

His enemy and lover. From the day they met and forever, utterly and completely his.

The next moment, they clasped at each other, breathed and shivered together with the electrical current that ran between their bodies. Shizuo's mouth opened in an inarticulate cry, and Izaya pressed him so close that he felt Shizuo's heartbeat through his own chest, quickening, and then Shizuo began to come, impossibly deep inside of him, shivering like he had a high fever.

When Izaya felt cum exploding into him in violent spurts, hot and filling, the knot at the root of his cock dissolved into fire. His nails traced red, angry paths into Shizuo's back. He came with a fierce flash of tensing, shuddering muscles and broken cries and he arched as he shot his load between their bodies, Shizuo's cock inside, muscles clenching around it.

Then, they crumpled like sand, still joined. Izaya hugged him closer and Shizuo leaned his head in the crook of Izaya's shoulder, laying on top of him like a heavy blanket.

And they slept.


In the haze of half-sleep, Izaya smelled the scent of the woods, mixed with blood and sweat, lingering on the heated skin of Shizuo's chest where his own head was resting. It was as though Shizuo was cradling him, but the pull of gravity and constant, uneven shifting told Izaya that Shizuo was carrying him in his arms instead.

For a moment, Izaya dreaded the smell of smoke and feel of burning-stinging pain, scared he had just woken up from a long dream.

You forced me to live on borrowed time.

But when he lifted his gaze, he realized that Shizuo wasn't crying. His eyes were steady ahead, face lit with the faint LED light before the woods receded and lampposts lights showed him the way home. His lips were stretched enough to show that he enjoyed his thoughts and the high from the afterglow. Izaya's body remembered what they had done, still felt a warm flame spreading through him under the clothes Shizuo had put back on him, but it was tamed now.

He didn't remember Shizuo opening the door, undressing him, or carrying him upstairs. He stirred when he felt himself laying on crisp, clean sheets. Shizuo watched him with liquid eyes, the light from the moon shining off his tensed shoulders.

When Izaya spoke, words felt like dead leaves glued on his tongue. "My switchblade."

"Your what?"

Izaya hinted a grin. "My switchblade. Did you retrieve it?"

Shizuo laughed. It was a deep, sultry sound. "Oh god, flea. You wish."

This time, they took their time kissing, stroking, feeling the weight and friction of their warm bodies in the tangled sheets, moving as though they were calm waves, cupping and intertwining each other like hands. And then it was slow, gentle, dream-like, every part of Izaya ablaze and pulsing.

When he least expected it, a sudden tightness in his chest shook him to the bone. He hid his face in the crook of Shizuo's neck so the beast wouldn't know, but Shizuo clasped Izaya's face in his hands and looked into his eyes.

If only he knew, Izaya thought as he stared into those golden eyes, that all of this didn't mean that they had grown closer.

They were enemies.

And this was him saying farewell.


Shizuo woke to the alarm from the rope.

Across the black velvet sky, he made out Izaya's frame, sculptor-perfect, sitting on the windowsill, an arm thrown carelessly above his knee.

A cigarette rested between his lips.

Izaya's gaze was lost on the horizon, toward the source of the sound that was farther away than yesterday, as though the enemy that had tried to break through was moving along the rope, looking for just the place where the ancient spell would shatter.

The night breeze brought into the room the spicy smell of tobacco together with the scent of lavender shampoo and the saltiness of the sea. It slid over Shizuo's naked, bed-warm body in cool moth kisses.

His voice was gravelly and deep from sleep. "Don't steal my cigarettes, Izaya. It's bad for your health."

Izaya sucked on the cigarette and gave him one of his usual mocking gazes. "Said the man who tried to kill me countless times. Besides, I didn't steal one of yours. This is a memento from my past."

"So why the hell are you smoking it?"

Let alone smoking it indoors, while when he wasn't allowed to. He didn't say it though. He didn't want Izaya to leave.

"I'm over it. Closure, that's it."

Izaya scratched the bite on the back of his neck and Shizuo felt torn between guilt and the need to touch him again, feel him shiver beneath his hand.

"How are you?"

"You were rough, but don't be sorry about that." Izaya exhaled and put out the cigarette. "I'm getting us something to drink."

Shizuo followed him with his gaze, a grin on his face, because even if he'd fucked him three times, Izaya looked like his usual self. Maybe limped just a bit more, but that was it. The guy was tough.

Shizuo scratched the wound on his chest and slumped on the windowsill. The place was warm, as though Izaya had been sitting there longer than the time it took to smoke a cigarette. By his side lay Shinra's chessboard; on it, just the black queen.

Izaya came back with two mugs; handed Shizuo the one with cats, and held the HELLO GORGEOUS! one for himself. Izaya took a seat in front of him, their legs intertwined. They drank at the same time. The milk was sweeter than usual, but Shizuo was so thirsty that he still finished it in two sips. And then he waited, patiently, for Izaya to enjoy his coffee, observing him while he looked absentmindedly out of the window.

Once he had finished it, Izaya leaned his head against the window frame and dropped his eyelids to half-mast. "Let me ask you one trivial question, Shizu-chan. You said that you love me, but how could it be that you're not scared?"

"I'm scared all the time, Izaya. You gotta be more specific."

Izaya gave him a quick, considering glance. "Fine," he sighed, and started absentmindedly poking the surface of the chessboard, catching the lines between dark and light squares. "When we were at the Academy, you used to watch old movies. Well, take one of those heroes. A sophisticated, well-mannered male lead in his late thirties; an old-styled gentleman like Cary Grant. Imagine him smelling like earthy cologne, ancient books and polished wood. Imagine him as an intellectual who had found his vocation and rode that wave of success, someone with an aura that would make people cautious and respectful, but then would surprise and amuse everyone with unexpected quirks and jokes. And you're already starting to imagine him in an international espionage story, weapons tucked under his tux while travelling all over the world and sipping champagne with a bunch of beautiful girls, even if he was a one-woman kind of man.

"And, yes, he traveled, but not for the reasons you would think. When his wife fell ill, he left his job, and they spent years shifting through the most technologically advanced hospitals searching for a cure. Though, guess what, nobody could save her and she eventually died.

"At first, nothing changed, as though she was just misplaced. You know, like when you hung the laundry and you find a spare sock - the other must be somewhere, under the bed or in the wrong drawer. You'll find it eventually, and then you'll fold them back together, as they were meant to be. Likewise, he swore she would show up again when he would least expect it. Can you believe that? All the while she was six feet under. He couldn't even conceive the idea that someone so essential had been taken away from him.

"When he realized it, because he did realize it in the end, he couldn't move on. Complicated grief was his illness. He told their son that he didn't deserve to celebrate his birthday if she couldn't celebrate hers too. He didn't want to eat if she couldn't do it anymore. He didn't want to live if she was dead. And that was it. No dramatic turn of events. He never got back on his feet, no matter how smart or powerful he was; he lost her and his life was over. The end. Now, Shizu-chan, if this was a movie, you would either ask your money back or punch who sold you the ticket, right? But what if it happened in real life? Let me ask it again: how could you not be scared?"

It was a confession.

The moments that followed felt too brittle for words. He let them pass in silence, until he saw Izaya's hands relaxing again, his fists opening, the tension easing out through shuddering breaths.

Shizuo said, quietly, "The next time you see that man, ask him if regretted it all."

Izaya averted his gaze. "I won't see him ever again."

"That man was your father, isn't it?"

Izaya scoffed. "Such a wild guess."

"Nah. He must've been someone who had a lot of influence on you. Not one of those random humans you like to observe and mess with. It was either him or that guy in white, but he's alive and you'll see him again, one day."

"You didn't answer my question, Shizu-chan."

"I'm not gonna shy away from love just because I'm afraid."

A smile broke on Izaya's features. "So, since you're so brave, or so reckless, in place of that old deal we made and you broke, promise me you'll never love someone more than me."

"I won't promise it. I'll show you."

Izaya moved so fast that Shizuo was taken aback, but still opened his lips to the velvet push of Izaya's tongue and let Izaya take his mouth in a kiss that felt violent and unbearably fragile at the same time. Shizuo couldn't help asking, "Hey, what's wrong?"

Izaya didn't reply. Just kissed him harder, until they were both sweating and panting and sliding against each other on the sheets. Until it hurt. Until a tiredness set into Shizuo's mind. At first it was soft but, gradually, eroded his strength. At first he blamed it on the lack of sleep, but when he felt his limbs growing numb, he understood that something was wrong. And then his gaze fell on the empty mug on the floor. The milk. Shizuo felt his stomach flip over slowly. It was sweeter than usual despite Izaya knew how he drank it, as though he needed to conceal another taste, adding more sugar than usual. He reached for his bedside table and pulled the drawer open. None of the sleeping pills Shinra had prescribed him while Izaya was away and he couldn't sleep was still there.

The flea had poisoned him.

Izaya's laugh was menacing and cold. "I warned you, Shizuo. How could you even dare to think that a normal human life would be enough for me? There's something greater waiting for me."

Shizuo stood there, breathing hard, as every sensation flowed out of him in bit and pieces. His thoughts softened, melted into the tears that made his eyes burn, and his voice came out nowhere as tough as he wanted it to be. "What the hell are you afraid of?"

And then, he realized Izaya had told him everything he needed to know.

You said that you love me, but how could it be that you're not scared?

He felt the sting from the cut, and remembered Izaya resting the palm of his hand over his heart.

You're mine.

Before he closed his eyes and nothingness overcame him, Izaya's fingers curled around the back of his neck and something about that touch, as gentle as it was, made Shizuo shatter. He felt Izaya's fluttering kiss brush his lips and heard his own last words to Izaya.

He didn't tell him goodbye.

He told him, "You love me back, don't you?"


A/N: A special thanks goes to Aira Kay, amazing beta and friend, and to my dearest SweetHeaven, for everything. They're also amazing fic writers and you should definitely check their works!