Author's Note: Please excuse my little uh, slip up in the last chapter. Apparently a shirt magically appeared on Shizuo halfway through. Oops. This one is properly proofed to avoid mistakes like that. I hope.
Well, I hope you all had a lovely Christmas! Did Santa bring you lots of cool things? And welp, I hope this is ~smutty~ enough for you fangirls. I'm not that good with things like this. But I hope you enjoy anyway. (。-ω-)
"Fuck—" Shizuo hissed out with a low growl between gritted teeth and a buck of his hips. Izaya was quick to correct that, his hands lowering to press Shizuo back into the bed with a chuckle that sent tingles running down Shizuo's length, swallowing deeper. Shizuo grumbled again, fingers twining in black hair, tugging, impatient and needy.
Who gave a damn what the flea wanted? He didn't, he didn't— he couldn't even register there was a person there anymore; he just needed more, so much more. Selfish? Heh. He didn't care, was too lost to care. His fingers curled around the inky hair of the head bobbing at his groin, and his spare hand fell to fist the bed covers, gripping both until his knuckles were white. He needed this, this friction, this tension, this heat. Who cared, really, really, who gave a fuck who it was he was doing this with? It didn't matter, nothing mattered, just that heat. Fire, fire, it was all over him, burning his skin and scorching, scorching, scorching everything from his head to his toes. Fire, fire, bubbling and pooling, rushing through his veins and under his skin and curling and spilling into the pit of his stomach, it was addicting, it was toxic, and it was pulling Shizuo under its control with every second that passed. He couldn't think, couldn't speak, couldn't realise anything outside of this heat, all over, everywhere in him and on him and something completely separate. It was— it was— fuck, fuck—
It didn't even matter anymore that it was the louse; it didn't, because when the bastard ran his teeth down and down to scrape against sensitive skin as he pulled back so that his lips wrapped around the head— fuck. Shizuo was too far gone to even care who was down there, mouth wrapped around him in that wet heat, all he wanted in that moment was more; more heat, more friction, more of that delicious sensation swirling in his gut. He was past the point of no return, past the point where he could even recognise the flea, bent and flushed at his crotch, past the point where he cared. That tongue, god, that tongue, swirling around and around, teeth pressing against the even more sensitive spot beneath the head. Fuck—
Fire, fire, it was addicting, it was, and Shizuo was certain that it hadn't felt like this last time he had done this, not with that man from the bar, no, no way. So no, no, it didn't matter that it was the louse, didn't matter, just pleasure, just his heat and that suction and— His heels dug into the mattress, toes curling and back arching again, breaths tearing in harsh pants from between his lips, bitten and chewed. Transfixed, Shizuo dipped his head to watch with hooded eyes, staring down at the flea, that bug, that bastard on him, around him, all over him as his cheeks hollowed and his head bobbed, loose strands of hair hanging around his face.
"N-ngh—!" Shizuo could feel his muscles tightening, everything tightening. He was hot, so hot, burning and scolding and there was just fire and heat, everywhere, inside and outside and in the air around him, in that wet mouth with that delicious suction. Hot, hot, hot, he could just feel the pleasure pooling in his groin. The rhythm that the louse had started was changing now, as quickly as the shift in their relationship, speeding up, steadily creeping faster and faster towards the glorious crescendo, the climax. Fuck, fuck— it was still Izaya who was setting the pace of this, despite Shizuo's hand on his head, despite Shizuo's power, his might, that cursed strength of his. But it didn't matter, it didn't, so long as Shizuo got what the fuck he wanted, that climax, that blinding light at the end of the tunnel.
And there was that feeling again, the rising of heat in him, that addicting feeling that was pulling him under and tearing those grunts and groans from his parted lips, sending his toes curling and cheeks flushing. Ha. Ha. The idea was crazy, it really was. Izaya, the flea, leaning over him, sucking him off with such enthusiasm that one would think that they didn't hate each other, that he was enjoyed it just as much as Shizu—
Toes flexing, Shizuo let go with a sharp, long groan, breaking off into harsh pants. Izaya didn't move though, continuing to suck, nip and lick at Shizuo's length until he was quite satisfied that there was nothing left for Shizuo to give. He sat up then, with that irritating smirk on his mouth, twisting it, his tongue peeping out to lick at his lips, still rouged from Shizuo's hard kiss earlier. Shizuo returned the gaze for a moment with hooded, hazy eyes and flushed cheeks. His chest was still rising and falling, he was still coming down from that high; he'd fallen enough to register who it was sat on his hips, who had just done what they had done, but the haze and the heat hadn't cleared enough for him to do anything about it. He was still hot, still half hard, and really, really, a monster like him had to take it while it was there, didn't he?
Tomorrow, yeah, yeah, maybe tomorrow they would go back to hating each other, tomorrow they would forget about this bullshit and these games and go back to killing each other the normal way, through physical hurt, tangible and real. Tomorrow, yeah, yeah, because tonight, all Shizuo wanted was more heat, more friction, to feel that toe curling climax again. And if the flea was the one who could give him that, then so fucking be it.
There was a pause now, a lull where neither of them spoke. Shizuo wasn't sure how long it was, didn't care, didn't count, it felt like an age, but was probably mere seconds, and then they were locked together again, locked in heat and lust and had quite forgotten who the hell the other really was. Izaya had leant down now, his chest pressed to Shizuo's as their mouths locked, tongues sliding and twisting and twirling. He was still leading the way, still having to coax Shizuo into knowing what to do. It was he that knew this well, it was he, not Shizuo, who knew the ins and the outs of this. He only knew the basics, only knew what had to be done but not the intensity of any of them really. Nakura and Shinozuka, it was like they had fully thrown themselves into those roles without really realising it, the most elaborate and subconscious little roleplay, another little game that neither of them were aware of.
Shizuo growled when the kiss broke again, and Izaya's mouth latched at his jaw, at his neck, once again. Heat, fire, bubbling and sliding down to his crotch again. It didn't take long for Shizuo to kick off the remains of his clothes where they had pooled at his feet, it didn't take long for him to flip the situation, to pin the bastard under him to the mattress, just where he ought to be, beneath him. Izaya merely smirked, a dirty laugh flying from his mouth before Shizuo cut that short by colliding their mouths again, tongue slipping inside. Arms came up to snake around him, the fingers digging into the bare skin of his back. Izaya raised a knee to give him more room to press closer, to grind his hardness against the one that lay hidden beneath the crumpled black trousers. Friction, friction, it just added to that heat, in his groin, his stomach.
Shizuo slipped a hand up and under the fabric of Izaya's shirt, skimming over his stomach, which seemed to be fluttering under the feathery touch, under the heat. Shivering, Izaya shifted, his back arching slightly to press closer to the heat of Shizuo's body, to the hips pressed against his own. Shizuo pushed the shirt higher, and Izaya briefly lent up to tug it over his head and off. Shizuo's head lowered, nipping and licking and sucking at the fluttering chest beneath him, pale and cool as the moon. He knew the basics, he did, had heard enough stories to know the sorts of things men liked, the sorts of things he was meant to do; though he'd never done any of them before, the moan that curled like smoke from Izaya's lips when he latched onto the nub of a nipple was enough to tell him that he must be doing something right. He could feel nails digging into his back, and a soft gasp leaving Izaya's mouth as he bit just a little harder, the sound going straight to his crotch. Izaya bent his other knee, spreading his legs to let Shizuo lay flush against him.
Shizuo couldn't help but smirk at that, he couldn't. The power, the control, it was a kick, some high that he didn't want to drop. Before had been different, that man had done all the work before, he had been the one to lay on Shizuo, had been the one to thrust into him, and now Shizuo had gotten a taste at the other side of the coin. It was good, it was fucking—
"A-ah!" Izaya bit out, despite himself, hips bucking when Shizuo suddenly plunged a hand down the front of his trousers. He could feel the blonde against him, palming the hot heat in his underwear, eliciting another low groan. Shizuo's fingers curled around him, stroking a couple of times, three times, four, before he had removed his hand and brought it back up and out in favour of hooking his thumbs into the belt loops at the top of the fabric; dragging them down, down, down along with a pair of underwear in the same scarlet tone as Izaya's shirt from the other day.
"S-stop fucking teasing," The raven protested, wriggling, nails digging into Shizuo's back again, shifting and writhing under the man above him, looking for friction as those clothes were tossed to the floor, leaving him bare from the waist down and the waist up, just like Shizuo, a perfect match. Shizuo chuckled, nuzzling at his neck, nipping at his Adam's apple with all the confidence in the world, as if he had done this a million times before and not just the once.
No. No. It didn't matter this was only the second time that Shizuo had had sex, only the first time he had been on top for that matter, let alone the fact that the someone he was about the fuck was his enemy, the asshole, that bastard, the flea, the bug, Izaya. It didn't matter, because he was hot, he was hard, and he was too far gone to care, too far gone to stop. He'd regret it tomorrow, or the next day or maybe even when he had come for a second time, but it didn't matter— only heat, only— fuck—
When the louse did things like that, how could he care, how could he stop, how could he come down from this high of heat and lust and—?
"Ah!"
Izaya had gotten bored waiting, had tired of letting Shizuo move at his own sorry pace. Who cared what the brute wanted? He wanted to be fucked, he wanted— ha. He wanted Shizuo to shut the hell up and just lose them both in a world of heat and friction. He didn't care if the monster wanted to wait, to take his time. He certainly didn't care if Shizuo was nervous, he didn't care that the oaf didn't really know what he was doing. Izaya did, and he wanted it, and he would do it all if it meant he could just get off and get this heat in his stomach to vanish, to feel sated and full and—
He tugged one of Shizuo's hands up from where it had just been, breaking away from another kiss to close his mouth around those long digits. Of course he realised that the oaf wouldn't just have lube or something lying around his place. The man was a self-confessed prude, someone who had only been fucked once before, and only a few weeks ago at that, but Izaya wasn't going to let the evening progress without some sort of makeshift stuff. He'd been there before, and it wasn't pretty. Licking and sucking and nibbling at Shizuo's fingers, he realised this would have to do. They were warm, as warm as the rest of Shizuo's body, now pressed flush against his, hot skin burning against cool skin, flushed.
The look on Shizuo's face would have been funny if the situation had been different, if Izaya hadn't been so damn hot, so damn needy and too damn lost to really realise just who and what they were, what they were doing. The blonde's eyes were hooded, hazy, and even now, as Izaya locked his own with them, he couldn't escape the smoulder in them. Monster's eyes, the eyes of a beast, liquid pools of molten gold, and yet they promised so much more, so much that Izaya knew he had never even tapped in their games. But hey, hey, he didn't care, not right now when he could feel his hips rolling up into Shizuo's, crotch pressing against crotch.
He cocked an eyebrow when the fingers popped from his mouth, a string of saliva lingering briefly in the air between them before Shizuo pulled them away, breaking the connection. There was another lull, another lock of eyes that seemed to crackle with something that Izaya didn't know, didn't understand, some little spark of realisation, some truth that slipped through. Perhaps they both did know what was happening, perhaps they did, but neither of them was stopping. Their relationship had taken such a terrifying shift and this— was this the result of that?
All thoughts like that were banished when Izaya felt those same fingers teasing below him, tucked between his legs. Still panting, still utterly fucking human, his legs spread wider, nails digging into Shizuo's back, again and again. Warm lips kissed along his jaw, sharp teeth nipping at the delicate skin stretched across his collarbone as he felt one slip inside, rapidly followed by another. Izaya bit his lip, squirming against the sheets. He was used to this feeling, used to the stretching and the notion of being filled, and when a third finger entered, his toes curled. He was used to it, but the fact that it was the brute, that monster, Shizuo, Shinozuka—
No. No.
This was what he wanted, this was what he needed. God. Why was Shizuo taking so long? He needed it, now, now, now. Izaya continued to writhe, bucking his hips; he was spiralling downward into primal lust, into a whimpering mess of raven hair and slim hips. He was losing control, his fingers slipping, and he was falling, falling, falling—
Sparks shot through his body when Shizuo hit that spot inside, though probably unintentionally, making him cry out. He dug his heels into the mattress, back arching. He couldn't— how could he think with this— he couldn't— couldn't— fuck— Had it been this way with Shiki? Izaya was sure that it had never been like this, he was sure that he had never been this hot. He didn't know what to make of that, he didn't like what it implied. This man was a monster, Izaya shouldn't be enjoying this— he shouldn't—
No. No. It had never been like this with Shiki.
"Ready?" He barely heard Shizuo's quiet word, his quiet question. He barely heard the stutter in the blonde's voice, he barely registered how amusing it was that Shizuo even cared if he was prepared enough or not. He barely realised he was nodding, far too far gone to care about anything other than this, anything other than the hard length of Shizuo Heiwajima bringing him over the edge, into bliss and white.
Izaya raked his nails down Shizuo's back as he watched the blonde lick his lips, some nervous tick no doubt. Who cared, who cared? He didn't, and his pride and his ego fought to keep from crying out as something biggerand harder than the brute's fingers pressed against him, into him, stretching, stretching. He gasped, teeth gritted. It was fine, it was, he needed this, was used to this.
Ha. Ha. The situation was hilarious, it really was. Fucking hilarious that Shizuo Heiwajima, the monster was about to do this to him. Izaya wanted to laugh, but he didn't stop him. He didn't even think about making him stop, especially not when he thrust, suddenly, hard, filling him in that delicious way that had Izaya rasping out a gasp. Friction, ah, that friction, so hot and so—
"Hurry u-up," Izaya protested again, voice strained, forcing his body, willing it to adjust faster than it was doing. Slowly, Shizuo pulled out before pushing in again, shoving him body into the mattress. His hands came to rest either side of Izaya, to support him as he moved, and Izaya in turn removed his arms from Shizuo to fist at the covers, knuckles white. Shizuo set into some kind of rhythm, one that had Izaya panting, his chest rising, falling, breath ghosting out harshly, ragged and raw. That feeling, of being filled, so connected, so hot and so— this was— god— the next thrust, angled just right, made him moan, loudly, hips bucking. For someone that didn't know what the fuck he was doing, Shizuo was hitting all the right spots. Beginner's luck, ha, ha, fucking hilarious.
"A-again,"Izaya commanded, begged, whined, his head thrown back. Shizuo's teeth dug into his shoulder as he pounded, harder, faster, hotter. The raven lifted his legs to wrap around Shizuo's waist, groaning and panting; he weakly locked his ankles together, legs straining to pull Shizuo harder against him, hips lifting meet his thrusts, to alter the angle. He needed that spot to be hit again, needed that heat, that friction, dragging him to that crescendo, the climax, the glorious ending that was coming closer and closer until Izaya was sure he could taste it, see it, hear it.
Izaya could hear Shizuo's voice in his ear, grunting, groaning, muttering about how hot he was, how tight he was, how good he felt inside, how— fuck— but Izaya didn't care. He didn't. He didn't care about this beast. He didn't care what he wanted or thought, he just wanted to get off, to give in to the pleasure and the heat pooled at his stomach. A few more thrusts from the brute above him, and he could feel his muscles tightening, could feel that heat, burning, scolding. A warning cry barely left his mouth before his back was arching, sharply, up off of the bed and into the hard, hot chest above him, as he came, spilling between their heated chests, their hot skin. Shizuo followed soon after, and Izaya heard the blonde's low, husky moan in his ear as he did so. Izaya let his legs fall from around Shizuo's waist, and the blonde pulled out, rolling to the other side of the bed.
There was silence that followed. Shizuo seemed like jelly, like some boneless doll, eyes half shut, panting and glowing in the aftermath as he came down slowly from his high, sleep closing in on him fast. Izaya was wide awake though, the migraine from his hangover was back, full force, and everything was so—
Things were no longer hidden in a cloud of lust, and it was all too obvious just what the hell had happened, just who the hell he had tumbled around with in that bed, just who had left marks on his neck and he had marked in turn.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
This wasn't part of the game. It wasn't.
The oaf was already half asleep when Izaya rolled himself from the bed. The covers were strewn around the place, half hanging over the bed and onto the floor. Izaya felt in the need of a hot shower, something boiling and steaming to wash away the dirt, both literal and mental. He could feel Shizuo's touch on him, feel his skin tingling and a wetness between his legs that he cringed at. Dirty, dirty, dirty, he felt so dirty. To come here, to suck off that brute, and to let himself be fucked by him, to let him— Dirty, dirty, dirty, he felt so dirty.
He grabbed at his clothes after a quick trip to the little bathroom for a wad of tissue, not stopping for longer than needed. He was dressed in a breath, dressed in a heartbeat. Shizuo was still in the bedroom, sleeping or feigning it at the least. Izaya didn't know, didn't care. This whole thing was so fucked up, this game, this—
Why did everything seem so different now? Everything had shifted; the whole world had fallen apart. Izaya felt numb as he slipped through the apartment and out of the door, fleeing, fleeing, fleeing back through the light towards the underworld. He needed to get out of here, he needed to be away from everything and everyone and—
Dirty, dirty, dirty. That's what he was.