A/N: I'm writing another little author's note to clarify the makeup scene of the last chapter. It has come to my attention that the way I wrote it may not have clearly conveyed my intentions for Izaya's character in this story. I am not writing Izaya as a trans or genderfluid character. I can see how my writing for the last chapter may have made it look that way but that was not what I was going for; my use of the term "girly" in regards to Izaya's exploration was meant to portray the influence of culturally rigid gender norms and I do apologize if I did not make that clear enough. In my story, Izaya has no history of discomfort in regards to his pronouns or body dysmorphia and I do not intend to start that now. The makeup scene was just Izaya's interest in it as a male and genuine, unsustainable curiosity - as well as me indulging in the guilty pleasure of dolling Izaya up a bit. Again, I'm sorry if I did not write it well enough and I hope to improve with characterization in the future.
Thank you for continuing to read and for all the amazing feedback, constructive criticism, and kudos! Without further ado, onto the next chapter!
Shizuo has had plenty of time to think since he and Izaya's last encounter through the bookshelves when he… randomly got a little hard. He's decided that's all it was. After all, there is no logical reason he would be attracted to Izaya. He barely knows the guy and what he does know is that Izaya is a little shit. Sure, Shizuo can admit, he is objectively attractive. But that doesn't make Shizuo gay. Shizuo still likes women, still has no problems jacking off to mild-mannered, traditionally beautiful, mature Japanese women. Therefore, Shizuo cannot be gay. Getting half-hard around Izaya does not make him gay. Correlation does not equal causation… or something like that.
Whatever. Shizuo has made his peace with that unfortunate event.
He sits guarding the door unnecessarily, the pink blanket draped between him and Izaya - half on each of their laps. Shizuo wonders if maybe Izaya gets cold easily. It would explain having a blanket here all the time.
It's been two hours and Shizuo still hasn't gotten around to asking Izaya about his past, but somehow, he doesn't mind.
Instead, he's been listening to Izaya explain the evolving perspectives on gang formation through the last few decades. Izaya's talking a mile a minute, flying between perspectives, relating them to one another, and drawing connections to various philosophies. Shizuo can hardly keep up with it all, but he isn't about to stop Izaya. Shizuo is amazed.
Izaya is sitting across from him, cross-legged, back draw up straight, as though a wire is pulling on his spine while he practically vibrates with excitement. Every part of his face is lit up with a pure investment in the subject. Fascination that Shizuo's never seen on another boy's face so blatantly.
He explained the perspective the book Shizuo picked up in minutes, as well as information on the author and his own hypothesis on why the author took the perspective he did - going to depths no classroom Shizuo's ever been in has.
Izaya talks with his whole body, completely engaging Shizuo as an audience and Shizuo can't decide if the boy is a performer, a sociologist, a psychologist, a philosopher, or some out-of-control genius.
He thinks that Izaya might be all that and more.
Shizuo had completely abandoned the book to listen quietly and enjoy watching Izaya in the privacy of his head. Shizuo unconsciously tracks the wild movements of Izaya's arms, the way his fingers dance around and make abstract shapes as though they could help get his point across, the way he smiles - weird and twitching and crooked, the way his big glasses barely stay on his face.
The way he twitches towards his bag as he goes off on a particularly complex tangent. Like there's something inside that might help him explain it all.
But Shizuo really isn't all that curious about it. He's sure he'll kick himself for not trying to figure it out later but right now he doesn't care. Izaya's voice is bright, the blanket across his lap is warm, and his lungs are full of the toxic smell. He feels utterly content. A drunk sort of satisfaction from having his concerning addiction eased. Right now, Shizuo feels good. He doesn't think about why he feels like this because of another guy, he ignores the nagging in the back of his mind that says he doesn't deserve this peace.
Izaya didn't know what to do when Shizuo barged in and made himself at home with a book Izaya finished months ago, but now Izaya is too swept up in the moment to care. He doesn't think he's ever spoken so many words to a single person in one sitting. Certainly never anything of Izaya's personal interest.
The sane part of Izaya's mind demands that he shut up already. Nothing good can possibly come from this. But he just can't stop the words from spilling out.
Izaya is anything but stupid. He is very well aware that his physical attraction to his Shizu-chan is impeding his better judgment.
Izaya must finally acknowledge, consciously, that he has the most fun when he is with Shizuo and that he just does not have the self-restraint to stop having fun.
He supposed that he never really has been good at denying himself fun. From skipping class, to playing with his classmates, to provoking a monster. Izaya lives to self-indulge and he does not plan on stopping.
Maybe he's still flying high off of finally trying out something he's always wanted to last night. Maybe it's a cumulating power rush from pushing socially acceptable limits again and again from little things like trying out makeup to imposing his will over Nakura's so extremely. Maybe it's the way Shizu-chan looks at him so intently, like Izaya will never be forgotten or ignored.
Whatever the reason, Izaya is having the time of his life.
The one thing he does have to make a conscious effort to stop himself from doing is digging through his backpack to show Shizu-chan his notes. Each and every one of his notebooks is like an intellectual diary to Izaya in which he's had intimate conversations with the authors - Izaya knows he's not ready to share that.
Not to mention one of his notebooks is about Shizuo. While there's no reason his Shizu-chan would suspect he had such a thing, Izaya would never take the risk that it might fall out of his overstuffed bag into the lap of the very person it is about.
That would just be weird.
So Izaya indulges. He talks and talks. Laughing at his own jokes, voice straining from being used so thoroughly for what may as well be the first time in his life. Shizuo listens. He doesn't say anything, doesn't so much as grunt to show he's listening. Somehow, Izaya knows he's listening - at least a little. Or maybe Izaya's finally letting his delusions get to him.
"Hey, Shizu-chan." Izaya blurts out.
Shizuo grunts. So he is listening.
"I have billions of eyes, yet I live in darkness. I have millions of ears, yet only four lobes. I have no muscle, yet I rule two hemispheres. What am I?"
Shizuo frowns, confused. "Another riddle? Right now?"
Izaya doesn't know why, but he's suddenly a bit nervous. He tries not to show it, but he can't help the slight concaving of his chest.
"Why not?" He chirps, covering his minuscule change in posture with the blinding bright of his tone. "There's no rule that says I can only test your brain from the other side of the bookcase."
Shizuo blinks and sits up straighter. "I guess not…" his gaze slides off of Izaya and into his lap where he preoccupies his hands with smoothing out creases in the blanket. "What is it again?"
Izaya repeats the riddle and the closet falls silent as Shizuo considers it, only broken by Shizuo's mumbles of repeating the words and he rolls them around.
"Eyes… ears… lobes… the fuck are lobes? Like an ear lobe?"
Izaya bites his lip and can feel the familiar stuffer of giddiness warming his face. "Sorry Shizu-chan! No hints or I might give it away!"
Shizuo grumbles and ruffles his hair with his hands. "Ugh, come on, that's not a hint, that's just…"
Izaya's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and he laughs, "Shizu-chan, don't tell me you don't know how riddles work! Figuring out what the words really mean is what it's all about!"
"Shut up!" Shizuo barks. "I know how riddles work, okay!"
Shizuo keeps mumbling and after a minute or two his leg starts to shake and Izaya happily takes mental note of the tell.
Then, after his hands start to twitch a bit, Shizuo grabs his bag. Izaya frowns, really nervous now.
"Running away so soon?" He teases, or at least, he tries to. His voice cracks the slightest bit on the end and the hopes Shizuo didn't notice.
"No way." Shizuo grumbles and starts fishing inside of his bag. So reminiscent of Izaya's own behavior that his heart leaps into his throat. "Just give me a minute."
A ratty notebook and nub for a pencil come out. Izaya feels like he's in a dream when Shizuo flips it open, giving Izaya the briefest flash of some of his notes as he searches for a clean page.
"Tell me one more time." Shizuo demands, pencil poised on the paper.
Izaya manages to say his riddle again, and if he stutters or his voice cracks, he can't hear it. Every sound outside of Shizuo's pencil scratching over the paper is muffled and distant, like Izaya's on the verge of passing out after too many sleepless nights.
But Izaya isn't passing out. While Shizuo thinks through his words on paper Izaya thinks… dares to consider that maybe… Shizuo could understand, at least a little. Maybe, when Izaya's ready, he could open up one of his own notebooks around Shizuo.
It's hard to tell how much time passes while Shizuo thinks and Izaya tries to get his imagination under control and come back to the real world. Fifteen? Twenty minutes of measuring his breathing and finally Izaya collects himself enough to kick his leg out hard into Shizuo's shin.
"Do you give up?" He asks, doing his best impression of arrogance as he tries not to think about how the kick hurt him more than it hurt the impossible body of Heiwajima Shizuo. "It's the human brain. The lobes refer to the four regions it's divided into."
Shizuo sighs and drops his notebooks and pencil off to the side. "Damn…" he sighs, digging his palms into his eyes and rubbing with a force Izaya shudders to think about. "Don't ask me a fucking science riddle, I don't know any of that shit."
Izaya laughs again, feeling oddly light-headed and warm by how comfortable he feels, nestled in his favorite place and playing games with his favorite monster. "Alright." He finds himself agreeing before he can think to pick on his Shizu-chan any more than purring his words in just the right way to make Shizuo squirm. "Next time I'll ask something just right for a hardened detective."