Play Fight (pt.1)

A slinky arm propped itself onto a desk, the hand attached to it is sustaining the weight of a head with dark, disheveled hair. The free one had it's hand on a mouse while a pair of maroon eyes overlooked a bright monitor. Siiiigh.Both of his wrists were still colored with shades of purple, green and yellow. A little more than two weeks had passed, but the damn reminders were still there. Not even his coat could cover them up.

He'd always end up with some sort of mark on his body. Ones that proved the strength and ill-intent of the monster that provoked them, but these didn't come from a fight. They come from some place he never thought he'd see. A place he would never admit dwelled in his dreams.

Despite Izaya's ruling hand over Ikebukuro, he couldn't have predicted, or even intended for Shizuo to keep him chained in that warehouse. He wasn't into the idea of revenge, hell, he didn't think he'd ever have to be in the position to consider retaliation for anything. He knew he'd earn a few enemies because of the business he managed, that was a given, but no one ever tried to mess with him after he'd done whatever foul shit he planned out. There was never a reason for him to go out of his way to make someone pay, but what he experienced, what he felt deep in his loins.. it just wasn't going to be something he could ever forgive. Something he will never forget. The burning sensation deep in his stomach that churns every time he remembers how Shizuo's lips wrapped around his hard—

Dammit. I've got to stop thinking about that!

He wasn't so sure why it bothered him the way it did. Maybe it was because never in a million years did he think Shizuo would commit to such a thing - -with him of all people. Maybe it was because it was the first time anyone took him on like that.

No, it bothered him because he's thought about it before. He'd force him self to pretend he didn't, but when he'd lay in bed after a long day of dealing with his clients, he'd close his eyes as his hands slid under his pants, as his brain conjured up what ended up happening in real life.

"Why didn't Shizu-chan stick to his same ol' boring gimmick? Why couldn't he just beat me up and leave me there to chuckle at the pain he'd always manage to inflict?"

With a quick spin of his chair, he pushes up and picks at the phone in his pocket. He flicks it open, presses the 'down' arrow until he finds the number he was looking for.

"I've got a job for you."

On the opposite side, a former Blue Squares member listens as the details of his new job unfold.

"I don't care what you do, really. Just give him a good beating. You know, the type that will make your new gang worth talking about."

"And who exactly are we talking about, huh?"

A smirk blooms as the next words spill out. "Shizuo Heiwajima."

"WHAT? NO WAY!" Ahem. "I mean, that guys a monster! How can - -"

"Ah, just do it. There's a good amount of money in it for you, Horada-san."

The tremble in Horada's voice lingered as he unwillingly accepts the job. It wasn't a job he wasn't particularly happy to go along with, but he figured things wouldn't end as bad if he had at least 30 guys with him to help. The money was certainly the main motivation tho.

"Call me when you're about to start." He ends the call and shifts his attention to a window and the city moving beneath him. There's always a game waiting for him out there. And this one was one he'll always play; no matter how unpredictable the most valuable player is.

(...to be continued...)