Play Fight (pt.4)
When Shizuo wakes up, he finds himself laying on a couch that isn't his. His field of vision begins to sway left and right when he quickly sits up. He blinks hard, hoping that the last of the blue-ish orbs of light swimming in front of him would disappear. He opens his eyes to see a couple of large windows display a lively city breathing beneath the lightly dimmed room. In front of the windows is a desk crowded with papers and a fairly expensive computer. He can't tell what time it is, but it's safe to assume that dawn is only a couple of hours away.
Before he can ask himself where the hell he was, a small voice behind him asks, "Up already, Shizu-chan?"
He turns his head towards the voice and jumps off the couch when he sees Izaya standing in front of him with arms crossed across his chest. And then he feels a pinch of pain shoot up from his left leg. Fuck. He makes his hands into fists to keep the pain from showing on his face.
"Why did you bring me here?"
Izaya moves towards the desk and takes a seat on the chair behind it. "Well, I was going to drop you off at Shinra's so that he could take care of your broken leg," he shifts his gaze to the monitor, "but I have a lot of work I need to tend to so I just had him come here."
He hadn't noticed until now that his leg was bandaged up. "And you just couldn't have taken me to a hospital?"
He looks straight at Shizuo and starts to laugh. "Like you can afford going to one."
Shizuo clenches his jaw and focuses on the imprint he left on the couch.
"You're welcome."
"Tch, yeah thanks." He turns to look at Izaya who doesn't even bother to look back at him. "Thanks for setting me up." He begins to walk towards the desk despite the pain. "Thanks for the fucked up leg." He stops when he's directly across from Izaya. "Thanks a lot, flea!" His leg might be broken, but his fists aren't. He lifts his right fist over the monitor and lets it fall, almost completely bending the machine in half.
"Hey!" Izaya pushes himself off his chair, his hands slam on the desk. He's so close to Shizuo's face, he could feel the hot air coming from his nose. "You're gonna have to pay for that." They stare at each other long enough for both to notice how each other's eyebrows arch, how they're eyes tremble but refuse to look away, how they're jaws relax momentarily when they swallow.
Shizuo scoffs and breaks the staring contest. "I'm not paying you shit." He removes his hand from the debris and tries to walk away, but the pain surging from his leg has come back full force.
"Shinra said you shouldn't put any pressure on your leg, Shizu-chan."
Shizuo looks over his shoulder. "Yeah, well there isn't much I can do about that."
Before he can take another step, he feels Izaya move behind him. He hesitates for a moment and then turns. Right in front of his face is a little clear, orange plastic container with a few pills inside.
"Pain killers." Izaya rattles the contents. "They're pretty effective. I think you're supposed to take one every—"
Shizuo snatches the container and pops three of the six pills.
"Always so impulsive!" He motions Shizuo to the couch. "You're not gonna get very far now."
"The hell does that mean?"
"You really are an idiot, Shizu-chan." He takes a seat on the armrest of the couch and continues. "Like I was saying before you rudely snatched the pills from my hand, those painkillers are prettystrong. It'd be in your best interest to stay here and wait until they wear off."
Shizuo's eyes widen at the realization. You've got to be freakin' kidding me. "Fine."
He moves to the opposite side of the couch and takes a seat. His head drops back while his hands find comfort in the insides of his pockets. In about fifteen minutes, he begins to see little figures forming on the ceiling. His mouth is slightly numb and the throbbing pain that reminded him of his broken leg melted into nothing but warm and fuzzy tingles.
Izaya was still sitting on the armrest, fiddling with his phone and paying little attention to the drugged up cripple on his right side. Something short of a giggle inclines him look into the soft glistening, yellow eyes that have diverted their attention from the invisible figures moving on the ceiling to him.
"Guess this shit's starting to kick in." Shizuo takes a finger and probes around the area of his injury. "I'm serious, Izaya. Ha-ha. It doesn't hurt at all."
"That's 'cause you're not poking hard enough." Izaya slides off the armrest and kneels before Shizuo. Poke. He looks up to the blonde, certain he had inflicted some sort of pain. Instead there sat cool, collected Shizuo. His arms crossed against his chest; a clear sign that he didn't feel a thing. POKE~
"Hmm…nothing?"
Sigh. Shizuo bends over and gets as close to Izaya's face as he can without touching him. He softly whispers, "Nope," and doesn't change his position.
"Well…would it hurt if I do this?" He leans in, mouth slightly open and targets Shizuo's lower lip. His teeth graze the lip before biting down. He pulls back a little, increasing the pressure of the bite, pulling the lip along with him.
(...to be continued...)