I am. So. Sorry.

Personal update ahead:

I am back. Hopefully for a while. My life was weird this past year but I have finally secured a full time job and lucky for me, this full time job has quite a bit of free time between my job duties leaving me with the chance to write this fic on my phone. I will finish this fic. I now have 3 chapters written ahead thanks to this new job and I had the time today to go through the entire fic and decide where I need the next few chapters to lead. I am hoping updates will now be consistent and much more frequent, though I have said this before and wasn't able to follow through I am much more confident now.

So thank you all so much for sticking around. This fic has taken much longer to write than I meant for it to and I really and truly appreciate your patience while I get my life together. Your reviews and kudos mean so much!

Now to the chapter, but first, can I retcon that Shizuo destroyed his old couch after seeing the video of Izaya? Because I'm doing that here.

…~-~...

Izaya stared at the ceiling in a dark, unfamiliar apartment. It had been at least 3 hours since Shizuo had gone to bed, leaving Izaya on the couch in the living room. To be honest, Izaya was surprised at the quality until it was revealed that it had been bought for Shizuo by his brother after he broke his old one in a moment of rage.

But he still couldn't sleep. His heart and mind were racing despite the painkillers making him feel slow and numb. Or maybe that was the concussion. Either way, it seemed nothing would stop his thoughts bouncing around his head.

It didn't feel like long before a small amount of light began to filter through the window. It was dawn already and while he was sure he slept for an hour or two Izaya still felt as if he hadn't slept at all. Instead of trying to sleep more, Izaya opted to watch the sunrise through a broken section of the blinds on the balcony window.

The sound of the door opening made him jump slightly, pulling him back to reality. He listened to Shizuo shuffle around behind the wall that separated the bedroom and bathroom doors from the main living space. Roughly a minute later the man himself trailed out into the open, hair disheveled and a sour look plastered across his face.

"What, did you forget I'm here?"

Shizuo shook his head, "You look like shit," he stated flatly.

Izaya narrowed his eyes in a half glare. "Thanks," he replied.

"No, sorry," Shizuo said, "I just meant… Did you get any sleep?"

Izaya shrugged in response. "Not as much as I wanted to."

"Was it the couch? Do you need another pillow or something" Shizuo asked suddenly sounding concerned

"No it's not-it's fine I just-" Izaya wasn't sure how to deal with this concerned version of Shizuo. In fact, anyone showing this amount of concern for him felt strange. "I don't sleep a lot to begin with. I'll just make some tea for now."

Shizuo seemed to accept that answer and began walking to the kitchen. "Do you want breakfast?" He asked, opening the fridge and pulling out a carton of eggs.

Izaya's stomach growled. The nausea from his concussion had subsided and the sudden prospect of food was enticing. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Shizuo cooked and to Izaya's surprise did a halfway decent job. Nothing was burned at least and the toast wasn't saturated with butter. While they ate they discussed the plan for the day.

In the afternoon Shizuo had to go to work for a short while so they made their plans to stop by Izaya's apartment after breakfast. Izaya insisted he needed to pick up a few things to occupy himself during the day while Shizuo was at work and Shizuo decided that anything to keep Izaya from going out alone was worth the extra effort. Besides, it really was the original plan.

…~-~...

An hour later they stepped into the elevator going up to Izaya's apartment. They were both tense, Izaya's hand wrapped tightly around his knife in his pocket. Both fully prepared to encounter Jiro and were ready to fight if necessary, though Izaya was fairly certain he wouldn't show up again so soon. When they reached his floor his hand gripped the knife tighter.

Still couldn't be too careful.

Shizuo followed Izaya everywhere he went in the apartment, "on the off chance the creep is still hiding in a closet or something" as Shizuo had put it.

Nothing. Izaya did a quick sweep for anything that looked out of place and everything seemed untouched which was a temporary relief. He quickly gathered his things-laptop, phone charger, some clothes and a few thumb drives with work files-and they left.

Izaya was still on high alert the entire way back, constantly checking to make sure they weren't being followed. Shizuo commented that he didn't get the vibe like they were being watched and usually, as Izaya knew, Shizuo's instincts didn't lie.

They made a quick stop at a convenience store where Izaya picked up a few things including lunch. It was about noon by the time they arrived back at Shizuo's tiny apartment, and about four in the afternoon when Shizuo went to work. The time between was spent with minimal conversation, each doing their own thing: Shizuo watching TV and Izaya buried in a book about Tokyo titled Ikebukuro Counterattack written by someone by the name Tsukumoya Shinichi. It seemed to be a heavily philosophical read, and Shizuo simply hadn't been interested.

With Shizuo at work, Izaya was alone for the first time since he had been attacked in his own home. Although a little apprehensive, Izaya felt more confident being left alone having Shizuo text and call him quite often. If he stopped responding, Shizuo would be home in an instant. It was much faster for him to get to his own home from work than to run all the way out to Shinjuku if anything were to happen.

Even so, Izaya didn't feel these precautions were entirely necessary. At least not right now. Jiro had made it clear that "things are not ready" for him to try to take Izaya again, meaning it could be some time before he made his next move.

For now, Izaya kept this knife in his pocket, alert enough to be ready to defend himself at a moment's notice, but calm enough that he didn't psych himself out at the smallest noise.

When his wrist twinged, he popped one of the pills Shinra had given him, which also helped take the edge off his stress.

At 7 o'clock in the evening Izaya's stomach growled. He had just finished his book and set it down when his body reminded him he hadn't eaten since breakfast.

Pulling himself off the couch, Izaya stretched his muscles and made his way towards the kitchen. The sun was beginning to set and the light outside began to turn an orangish hue. Izaya opened the refrigerator and pulled out a small, prepackaged meal he had picked up at the convenience store earlier.

When he finished eating, he decided to walk around the apartment. It was small, not much to walk around, but it was something to do. He'd been sitting all day, only getting up briefly for bathroom breaks and he wanted to move around. Unfortunately, going outside wasn't an option yet just as a precaution which left Izaya with limited options on what to do with his time.

The apartment was quite small, but had enough room to still be comfortable. The front door entered into an area for shoes with the kitchen to the left. It was narrow and rather devoid of supplies, but it was functional. A small table separated the kitchen from the start off the living room where Izaya had spent most of his day. Behind the couch was a wall that divided the living room from a small hallway containing a closet, the bathroom, and the bedroom door.

Izaya's curiosity got the better of him. Cautiously he opened the door and stepped inside. Pushed into the corner of the room was a western style bed with a frame, minus a headboard. The sheets and blankets on top were skewed, twisted around one another in a jumbled mess. The floor was in a similar condition with a few articles of clothing laying about. Across the room was a small dresser, a closet, and a laundry bin which fortunately held most of the dirty clothes.

At least he tries to keep them in one place, Izaya thought.

With a sigh, Izaya sat on the edge of the bed as he looked around the room. Shizuo didn't have as many personal items as he expected. There was, however, one photo on the nightstand of a young, brown-haired Shizuo, arm wrapped in a cast and bandages littered over his exposed skin, smiling next to a deadpan faced child Izaya recognized as Shizuo's little brother Kasuka.

He stared for a moment at the childish smile on Shizuo's face contrasting with the various bandaged injuries on his body. Despite it all, his brother truly did seem to make him happy. Izaya reflected on all of the times he mocked Shizuo for caring for his brother. He didn't have that kind of close relationship with his sisters. Not that he wanted to be close to them (they were far too strange), but Izaya still couldn't shake the feeling of jealousy that Shizuo had people in his life that were close to him.

Izaya had no true friends. No close family. If he went missing, nobody would notice. In fact, that's exactly what happened all those years ago. He was missing for over a month and nobody batted an eye.

Shaking his head, Izaya loosened his grip on the edge of the bed. He hadn't even noticed he'd been holding it so tightly.

The life that Izaya lived was what he chose. He chose not to grow close to anyone. He chose to be alone. He shouldn't feel this way just from a photo of two children.

Falling backwards onto the bed, Izaya let out another sigh. Making real, meaningful connections with people had never been his forte, so why bother having regrets now?

Rolling onto his side, Izaya curled up sideways on the bed and took a few deep breaths. He could smell Shizuo on the sheets as he did so, leaving a comforting sensation with every breath.

Shizuo…

Izaya shifted to rest his head on Shizuo's pillow, pressing his face into it. Surprisingly it didn't smell too heavily of cigarettes. Instead all he could smell was Shizuo.

Lying there, he began to imagine how it might feel to lay in bed with Shizuo. To have him there, holding him while they slept. Simply feeling the contact of another person in a state he always spent alone.

A shiver worked its way down his spine as he wrapped his arms around himself. He'd never craved another's touch the way he did right now. There was a strange hollow feeling in his chest that he couldn't shake. Nestling himself further into the bed Izaya continued to breathe in Shizuo's scent. He wanted to touch him, hold him…

Izaya's eyes shot open. There was a certain stirring in his pants.

He was hard. In Shizuo's bed.

"Fuck," he whispered.

With caution he reached a hand down as if to confirm what he already knew. He shuddered. It had been a while since he…

It could relieve some stress…

Reaching down, Izaya gave himself a few tentative strokes. His eyes fluttered closed at the sensation.

It really has been a while…

And with that, nothing else mattered to him. He didn't care that he was masturbating in someone else's home. He didn't care that Shizuo could come home at any time and catch him. In fact, the thought only excited him more. He had the sense to remove his shirt, lest he have to explain the stains on it when he was done.

Expertly his hand moved up and down his shaft making his breath quicken. His heart pounded in his ears as he picked up speed, burying his face into Shizuo's pillow.

"Sh-Shizu-chan…" he whispered as he finally released. His orgasm was long, wave after wave as he came hard across his chest and stomach. When it was over he shuddered again. He wanted nothing more than to lay there and enjoy the afterglow, but the sensible part of his mind told him to get up.

The sheets were clean. He'd done well there, but his chest was another story. Quickly he scooped up his shirt and left the room, headed straight for the shower. Still flushed and panting, Izaya turned the shower on cold first, washing away the remnants of what he had done. Once he was clean and his heart rate back to normal he turned the water hot to take the chill away.

A knock on the bathroom door startled him and suddenly he remembered why he was in Shizuo's place to begin with, but the sound of Shizuo's voice sent relief washing over him.

"Izaya? You in there?" he asked.

"Yeah," he responded, "I'll be out in a minute."

The rollercoaster of emotions he had experienced in the past thirty minutes left him feeling exhausted more than relieved, but still Izaya couldn't bring himself to regret what he had just done.

He quickly dried off, threw his clothes back on and immediately helped himself to a cup of tea before regarding Shizuo's return. He was out on the balcony, smoking a cigarette. Izaya recalled what had happened last night. After they argued, Shizuo had held his hand while they stood outside.

Maybe that's why he craved touch so much just a few minutes ago. That damned monster gave him a taste and now he wanted more. Once again he had to remind himself that this was the man who nearly killed him a few months ago and that being this close to him shouldn't feel this comforting.

"Damn it, Shizuo," he whispered as he stared at the tall, muscular figure outside. He bit his lip when he felt his stomach tighten and another twinge from down below. "What are you doing to me…?"