Author's Note: It seems my immune system is being lame or I don't have enough Vitamin C, because I've caught what is probably my fifth cold of the year already. WoOoO for the sickly kid!

Now, to the anon 'critic' who left a review earlier about another review on this fic: I only have one thing to say to you, if this fic is as "boring" as you say, what are you doing reading the reviews for it? Perhaps you could find more constructive outlets for your own boredom than being mean about other people's reviews, even if you might not agree with them.

Well, now that I'm done not listening to rude anonymous internet users, I present you with the latest update, hopefully this length is a little more suitable~ enjoy~! And I'm also hoping to update some of the other fics I have posted here too... "hoping" being the operative word there, welp~ \(n_n)/

The little Ikebukuro apartment was used to silence; Shizuo was hardly the loudest of tenants when he was home. He'd never brought anyone back here after all, save for once or twice when Tom had come in after work for a beer – a cold glass of milk or water in Shizuo's case, he'd never cared much for beer - to discuss plans, and so for the most part it was just the blonde that moved around its little rooms. Shizuo didn't really talk much when he was there either, preferring to clumsily read the books that Celty seemed so keen to lend him or ones that he was certain Kasuka had sent over on his behalf; most of the time he didn't even do that, merely seating himself at the window and watching the world unfurl out of the window, a cigarette tucked quietly into the corner of his mouth, curling towards the ceiling in delicate puffs of silver. The simple home was more of a haven for him than a social hub, a sanctuary where he could come and retreat from the world and the monster that everyone seemed to see him as; it was somewhere that he could be himself, just Shizuo Heiwajima, the man who wanted, really, nothing more than to belong, to be left alone in quiet reflection.

The apartment was used to silence, but nothing like the quiet that now hung in the air. This was so different to what the place was used to, it was heavy and awkward, like a blanket dropped over the heads of unsuspecting passers-by who wanted nothing more than to escape it. It was thick, like fog, dragging everything in the room into its grasp, obscuring them in uncertainty. Shizuo could feel it on his shoulders, like some physical, tangible thing that he could reach out and strangle if he tried to do so. It seemed to freeze him, locking his joints and keeping him firmly in place despite the chills pricking at his exposed skin and the knowledge that Izaya essentially had free reign in the other room while he was out here; like some kind of statute, locked in a sea of unease.

He could hear Izaya moving in the other room, the vague sound of him changing or dressing or whatever, but even that couldn't really motivate him to move or at the very least speak up. Izaya didn't seem to be starting any conversations either, and in his state of mind, Shizuo wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. He supposed it was, but then if they'd been talking, there wouldn't be this uncomfortable weight hanging on his shoulders, forcing him down and down and around in circles. His thoughts were too loud in this quiet, and Shizuo guessed that he would have welcomed the distraction a conversation with the louse would have brought, even if it had been quips on his behalf, even if it was a conversation with Izaya he was having.

That break in the quiet didn't come though, at least not until Izaya had finished pulling his own clothes on and no doubt fixing himself somewhat in the little bathroom attached to the bedroom. Shizuo still hadn't moved, and from the way Izaya didn't comment on that, the raven didn't seem all that surprised to see that was the case. The blonde could feel the stare of the other man on him for a while, like some kind of silent challenge he was expected to answer. That had been what their relationship had been until then, hadn't it? A simple game of cat and mouse, each trying to outdo the other, constantly trying to make their little rival step up to the mark, go further and further. Shizuo supposed it shouldn't really be all that different now that they'd shifted their relationship somewhat, into this, whatever mess this was.

"What's the matter Shizu-chan, louse got your tongue?" Izaya broke in after an uncomfortable span of time had passed. Shizuo didn't turn to look, but from the sound of Izaya's voice, he guessed that the raven had returned to his place perched against the wall, in front of the carnage of pot and plant. "I would have said cat, but I never really had you pegged for a cat person, even after you looked after Kasuka's ca—"

"You talk too much," the blonde cut across, a twisted half laugh ghosting from between his mouth; one which soon turned into a few seconds of bitter, sarcastic laughter, though directed at who, Shizuo didn't know. Izaya didn't reply, but it didn't take a genius to know that his lips would be tweaked up in that irritating, amused smirk of his, glancing at Shizuo's back like he was the most interesting thing around.

"I do hope you aren't trying to avoid our little chat," the information broker smoothly returned, and Shizuo heard a little whisper of clothes as the raven headed man moved from his place against the wall, though to where Shizuo didn't know either. He wasn't ready to talk about that with himself yet, let alone with Izaya, though his ego would never admit defeat and own up to that.

It seemed there was a lot that he didn't know lately, his own feelings being the chief thing. He'd always thought himself so self-assured in that area, if not a little neglected when it came to love, and now here he was, panicked and questioning just what he really was feeling. It was almost laughable that as a grown man he couldn't even decide, though he guessed most grown men didn't have to deal with finding out someone they had come to care for, perhaps even love after all, had turned out to be someone else, a different kind of monster, and a person they were meant to hate. The blonde half mused that Tom would be able to sort of all this emotional slurry out in a flash, because he always seemed to know how to understand Shizuo's feelings better than Shizuo did; that thought lasted for mere seconds before the blonde remembered that Tom was waiting outside, ready to question him and Shizuo cringed inwardly into himself.

He could have dealt with keeping this thing secret. It would have meant that only Izaya and he knew about it, meant that there was no outside pressure from anyone else trying to get him to decide how he felt or where this was going. He could have taken his time trying to decipher his feelings, to understand them, to come to terms with the fact that Izaya and Nakura and love were three things now that just went hand in hand. Now, well now what? He supposed things would be rushed now, they'd pick up in pace, because Tom would sure as hell want to know what was going on, what had prompted this shift in relationship. Shizuo didn't like leaving his boss, his friend, without answers, but at this stage, he still didn't know if he had them ready to give to the other man.

"Of course I'm damn well not," Shizuo bit back, his tone more bitter than perhaps he intended. He guessed the anger that had wormed its way through him and mixed with the embarrassment had something to do with that little edge in his voice. Izaya didn't miss it either, and couldn't stop the little chuckle that fell from his mouth on hearing it. There was something so delightful about the brute when he was this way, so unrefined and almost barbaric when he really got into fighting. Fascinating, just—

"I'm not a coward," Shizuo continued, breaking Izaya quite from his little train of thought and bringing him back on track again.

"Oh, no, of course you aren't," he replied, unable to stop another laugh from working its way out and across the room to reach Shizuo. His tone was mirthful, tinged with that little teasing lilt that was common when he spoke to Shizuo. It was amusing that the blonde could claim that when he was acting the way he was, all the way across the room and staring out of that window as if that would fix everything, even when nothing was even wrong. "That's why you can't even look at me, or why you couldn't look at Tom, or why—"

Shizuo turned at that, his arms stiff and tight by his body, hands still curled into little fists like some way of controlling his temper. Izaya stopped speaking mid-sentence at that, an eyebrow arching and his arms crossing; the oaf was so easy to read sometimes, though not all of it, and it seemed that even though he always surprised Izaya, there was still a way, even now, to push all those same little buttons that he had pushed before. The blonde couldn't back down from a challenge from him like that; it wasn't in his nature to do so.

"You're such a wiseass," was the reply that came from across the apartment in a half growl and a steely, golden glare. "I don't even know why you're still here,"

"Because you haven't asked me to leave yet," Izaya answered simply, though Shizuo obviously hadn't been expecting an answer to that or the answer that came. The look on the blonde's face at the start of his reply was hilarious, really, it was. "Because I rather like this— quaint little home of yours, because I need to ensure that you aren't going to run off like a child when I leave,"

"Because that's what you'll do, isn't it?" the raven added when he got no reply from Shizuo, not that he had been entirely surprised about that. He had moved himself now, stepping around the mess of soil and plant and pottery to hover by the little hallway leading towards the door. He wasn't going to outstay his welcome, especially when he could fast sense that he was wanted out of there, but he was just as stubborn as Shizuo was.

"You'll run," Izaya continued, "I know you better than you think Shizu-chan. You're panicking now because Tom stumbled onto this relationship of ours,"

Shizuo didn't reply to that either, just simply continued to glare at the wall just beside Izaya's head, not particularly wanting to meet the other man's eyes. He was well aware of the fact that the clock was tick, tick, ticking and he should probably get his ass in gear and go out to where Tom was still waiting, but this was more important for now, even if he wasn't saying anything in return.

"So you'll tell him this was some kind of, oh, physical stress outlet or something vague and see-through like that," Izaya waved a hand airily in the air, as if to prove his point, "And then you'll try to go back to hating me, cursing me and chasing me, but you'll never quite be able to throw that trash at my head will you? Not anymore, anyway. The sooner you accept that, the better it will be for all involved,"

"People like us don't have time to be afraid," the information broker quipped once more, "We don't have that long before we crash and we burn, so we have to stop caring what people think. That way we have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Just look how well it worked for me—"

Shizuo didn't reply to that either. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and his brain was cursing him for not speaking, some part of it screaming that he should just toss the asshole out and another pleading with the blonde to make him stay. He'd never get used to this internal conflict, and he half wondered if it was something that would ever go away or if it would just whisper in his head over and over and over until he was quite mad; as mad as the informant stood gleefully before him like this was the most fun he'd ever had, as if this were just another day of business.

"What the fuck are you saying?" Shizuo spoke up, his forehead crinkled in a little frown. It was irritating that he was apparently so easy to read, and by Izaya too, and yet there was some part of him that found it reassuring, like he didn't have to keep pretending anymore; because finally someone realised just how much trouble he was having with this, because someone understood.

"I'm trying to tell you not to be so worked up over this," Izaya answered, curtly, "What are you so scared of?"

The raven didn't linger long after that, moving himself down the hallway so that he could slip his shoes on where they had been left, scattered by the doorstep when he had come in. Once again, he seemed to either not want a response from Shizuo, or he knew that he wasn't going to get one, for he continued to chatter, heartily and cheerily, almost to himself, as if Shizuo wasn't even there, as if he were simply musing things over himself.

"It's funny," he commented, one hand reaching for the little doorknob to the front door. "I didn't think monsters even knew how to be scared. Guess you always will prove me wrong, won't you, Shizuo Heiwajima?"

The words stayed with Shizuo long after Izaya had slipped from the apartment with the promise to call and a silky laugh. The words stayed with him even when he finally moved, back into the bedroom to dress and out of the door himself to find Tom still waiting.

Nothing to lose? Everything to gain?

Shizuo had never had all that much to lose in the first place, except perhaps his own life, whatever little value that was really worth anyway. Maybe the louse was right; people like him didn't have the greatest life expectancy in the world. Dealing with the underbelly and shady characters in the city promised that; and with only so many tomorrows left around the corner, maybe, maybe, maybe he'd listen to the advice whispered to him from a raven with a wicked smile.

Nothing, nothing, everything to gain—