Author's Note: Sorry for a lack of an update last night. I had one of those days where the chapter just did not want to come out right, so I gave up and played Kingdom Hearts instead. Today wasn't much better, but I forced myself to sit down and just write, WAH.

I've been thinking about putting together some kind of little song list for this fic too. Is is too early to do that? Buh I don't care, I have some great songs that I listen to whenever I write this.

Izaya was having fun. Really, he was. What better time to be alive than this?

He could feel the alcohol in his system, burning through his veins even thicker than the blood in them. It was toxic and it was electric and it was magic, magic, magic and why on Earth had he not indulged in this delightful pastime sooner? Humans were wonderful for inventing the stuff; really, someone ought to award them for this. This drink, or whatever it was he had been pouring down his throat, had certainly done a marvellous job in banishing his worries for the night. He had lost sense of the whole situation with Shinozuka at some point between his fifth drink and the fifteenth, he had forgotten what those silly feelings in him meant at some point on the dance floor when he had grinded with that nameless man. He had stopped caring that he had been ignored, tossed away by Shinozuka when the man had rolled his hips against Izaya's, and magic, magic, magic. This whole night was magic. This experiment had been a success, what fun, fabulous, toxic, and electric.

When Shiki had shown up, Izaya hadn't cared, really he hadn't. He had just tossed back at defiant glare at the one being sent his way. What did it matter that an ex-lover of his had shown up here? Shiki had made it quite clear that his love and lust had moved on, and Izaya had too. He had Shinozuka now; he had this man in front of him with the hard-on in his jeans, rolling into Izaya. It wasn't Shiki's fucking place anymore to look out for Izaya, to get mad at him with another man, and he didn't need babysitting anymore, he wasn't that same twisted, naïve little teenager who Shiki had known. But Izaya had still let Shiki pull him from the crowd and drag him back to the headquarters. He had babbled all the way there about this and that, making up for Shiki not speaking by laughing and skipping enough for the two of them. Somewhere Shiki had snaked an arm around his waist as if he thought that Izaya was going to tumble face first towards the floor but it meant nothing, nothing, nothing, not anymore. That was gone, that time was over, dead, done, finished.

Magic, magic, electric, toxic.

The little bodyguards at the entrance to Shiki's had given Izaya funny looks when they'd arrived back, but didn't seem particularly surprised. Apparently Shiki had given them some kind of heads up where he was heading when he had left. One of them leaned in to talk to the man, but Izaya didn't care, he didn't, because this wonderful, wonderful drink had made everything wonderful, had made everything bright and crystal clear and sparkling to behold. If he had thought his humans and their world beautiful before, they were even more so now, tinted with whiskey soaked glasses. He was buzzing, he really was, he was sweaty and tired out and alive all at the same time, and he could feel his heart thrumming in his chest like a caged bird ready to escape. Funny, funny, the heart he wasn't meant to have. When had the faceless man coaxed it into being? When had Shinozuka brought it to life?

Shiki had led him through to the backroom, and for a moment or two it felt like the two had fallen feet first into the past. Izaya could remember being led this way before, with Shiki's arm around his hip and lips fused to the skin at Izaya's neck. He could remember sweet nothings in his ear and his own husky breath and the empty room that was Shiki's office that greeted them at the end of a hallway or three. That led then to the bedroom, the room where he had spent a year calling his own, sharing with the older man beside him, moaning and whimpering and losing his childhood with every kiss he had, with every dirty act he took part in. But this wasn't the past, and Izaya didn't want it to be, he didn't, no, no, this was the present, and when they entered Shiki's office, it was far from empty.

"Ah~ Shizu-chaaan~!" He chirped, the slur of the alcohol only a faint lisp in his mind. The startling figure of Shizuo Heiwajima was hard to miss in the otherwise quiet room. Shiki had stopped the two of them in their walking forward, but didn't seem to be too surprised to see the other man there. Shiki knew everything though, the smartass, the clever fucking asshole.

"Mr Heiwajima, I trust you were comfortable in my absence?" Shiki spoke from beside him, in that same deep voice as always. He started to try and usher Izaya through the room, apparently eager to get him into the bedroom and out of sight of his new guest. Just like the old days, just like— people never change, an old dog can never be taught new tricks, can it?

Izaya wriggled under Shiki's hold, fighting against the grip on his hip. No. No. No. Just like the old days. No. No. No. Apparently after a few seconds, Shiki had grown irritated with his actions and let go with a click of his tongue. Fine, that was fine, Izaya didn't need him anyway. Liquid courage, that was what it was called right? He had that plenty, all he needed, he didn't need Shiki, he didn't need anyone, he was fine like this. Shinozuka could go fuck himself. He had himself and now he had Shizuo to play with, what more could he need? He was having fun, really, he was. Fun, fun, fun, just magic, he was buzzing; it was wonderful, lightning, lightning, that was him. It was.

Shizuo was staring at him. Even in this state, Izaya could tell. Those eyes, Shizuo's eyes, the eyes of some kind of lion, a beast, a monster. Shizuo Heiwajima was a monster, he was. But those eyes. They were molten, like fire, staring him down. Izaya didn't like it; it made him feel uncomfortable and it send tingles down his spine. Those eyes, golden and hot and liquid. He could feel his very skin heating up, flushing with tingles, like pin-pricks, like his limbs waking up after they had fallen numb. Gold, gold, liquid gold.

"Ah~ Shiki was brave to leave him here all alone," Izaya sang in a cheery lilt, muffling a little hiccup that worked its way up. "The dumb brute must have broken something while we were gone,"

He was buzzing, his veins were burning, and he was hot, hot, and hot. He needed this. This conflict, this fight, it would make everything better, make him once and truly forget about Shinozuka and every fucking thing about him. Shizuo was certainly not acting the way that Izaya had expected, though he half noted that it was probably because even the oaf realised that tossing Shiki's things around would not end well, it really wouldn't. He mused how angry Shizuo must be, knowing that he was here, within Shizuo's grasp, but that the blonde could do nothing about it. he could see the cogs working in Shizuo's mind, fighting some desire that must be there to hit him, kill him, whatever. But there was something else that Izaya could see in his face but didn't really care about in this intoxicated state, what did it matter? Any other time he probably would have stopped to analyse it, to play it against Shizuo in any which way that he could. But alcohol does funny things to funny people, and Izaya Orihara was no exception.

"Izaya," he heard Shiki reprimand from behind him, and Izaya laughed, but dropped the joke. Shiki always had been all for treating all of his guests with respect. It was a foolish notion; people weren't equal, so treating them so would just give them false hope for the real world. Shizuo was no exception. The brute didn't deserve this hospitality, he was a monster, an unrefined, angry, monster. He was Izaya's plaything, and right now, he didn't much feel like playing, and he hoped that Shiki would take the hint and get him out of here.

Izaya was buzzing, buzzing, the whole room was buzzing. He felt so wonderful, so carefree, just like the old days when Shinozuka Heikichi hadn't been around, before he had started that foolish game and gotten himself so tangled into it, lost himself along the way. He didn't really remember when he had skipped forward or why, perhaps it had been to start the usual fight with Shizuo to hold on to some kind of normality in an otherwise unmoral evening, or maybe it was the escape the hard look that Shiki was sending him. He didn't know, didn't care, but he had skipped forwards and somehow ended up blanking out and tumbling over something left on the floor. Clumsy, idiotic, human mistake, ha, ha, funny, it was, Izaya didn't make mistakes, he didn't, and yet this move of his had sent him stumbling, stumbling, falling, falling. He could hear Shiki move, as if to dart across to catch him. Fool, fool, fool. It wasn't his place, it wasn't. Fuck it. Izaya didn't need him. If he fell that was his own problem, it was his own mess to deal with. He anticipated the impact with the floor, welcomed it, welcomed the pain and the jolt and the inevitable wake up. What was this— his brain was all over the place, up and down and—

A hand grabbed at his upper arms, too tight and too hard. It hurt, and Izaya knew that it would bruise the next morning, but didn't see the seriousness of that.

"Wouldn't want you to fall now, Nakura," Shizuo bit out against his ear, promptly straightening Izaya up and shoving him back over into Shiki. Izaya's forehead crinkled with a frown, his eyes sparkling with excitement, with questions.

"Shizu-chan is so dumb, my name isn't Nakura~" Izaya laughed. He barely felt Shiki grip him to stop him falling, because all he could see was Shizuo's eyes, hard on him, before the blonde had turned and headed for the door. "It's—"

The feeling of things clicking into place was something that Izaya was used to as an information broker. He was used to having a million different parts of information and piecing them altogether until the made sense, it was his job, and the satisfied feeling that followed after was something he lived for. It made the whole thing worth it, well, mostly worth it, the money and the power and the knowledge had played a part in that too. That feeling of satisfaction didn't come here, and suddenly Izaya felt entirely too sober to be dealing with this news. Where was that delightful liquid when he needed it?

Shizuo. Shinozuka. The whole damn thing was—

"I guess I'll be back when you've had the exterminator round, Shiki," he commented, heading through the door. "I don't like bugs,"

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Just what do you do when you find out the man you love, is the one you're supposed to hate too?

Fuck.