Chapter 6

"It's supposed to snow tomorrow."

Izaya lounged on the bed, a fluffy pillow warm against his cooling skin. He didn't look up from his phone. "Yeah, I heard," he said. "First snowfall of the year."

The man by the open balcony blew on his cigarette. Unlike Izaya, he wore a robe, fluffy like the pillows, and he was taller than Izaya. He was stockier too, as if he had merged with a brick wall when he was young and just never grew out of it. His thick eyebrows jutted over murky, black eyes, his thick lips frowning.

"It should've come during Christmas," he said.

"I wouldn't have pegged you for the sentimental type, Daisuke-san," Izaya said, looking up.

When their eyes met, Daisuke smiled. His shoulders dropped and his brows seemed to recede, letting the soft, orange light of the hotel lamps hit his charcoal eyes and high cheekbones.

"I was just thinking if it snowed on Christmas, you wouldn't have gone on that business trip. Then we could've spent Christmas together."

Izaya turned off his phone, chuckling as he set it on the bedside table. Wrapping the sheets around himself, he left the warm bed and joined Daisuke by the open balcony doors. Daisuke wrapped an arm around him, kissing the top of his head. Izaya reached out and stole his cigarette. He took a drag, letting the taste, the smoke, calm him.

"Hey," he said, blowing out. "You should close the door, Daisuke-san. It's cold."

"Yeah," he said. "It is."

Lightly taking Izaya's wrist, Daisuke leaned down and kissed him on the lips this time, the taste of him just as bitter as the cigarette. He pulled away but rested a palm on Izaya's face, rubbing a thumb just underneath his eye.

"Remind me, where did you say you worked again?"

"That bank in Shinjuku," Izaya said, turning to kiss his palm. He smiled. "Why? Having some money issues? I can help with pretty much anything, if it isn't too complicated."

"No," Daisuke said. "It's not that."

"But there is something?"

"Yeah, there's something." Daisuke took his cigarette back, taking a drag. He blew out, watching the smoke dance away with the night wind. Izaya didn't take his eyes off of Daisuke.

"I was at work today," Daisuke said. "You know, just hanging out with a buddy of mine. We ended up talking about women, and I mentioned you. I said I'd been thinking about finding a way to learn more about you, about who you really are."

Izaya tensed. Daisuke pretended not to notice.

"And you know what he said? 'I know a guy. Kind of a brat, but the kid knows his shit.' I said that's great. That'd be great. And Izaya, d'you know what the name of that brat was?"

"No," Izaya said quietly.

"Orihara Izaya." Daisuke chuckled. "They say he's an up-and-coming information broker, best in Tokyo. Everyone comes to him for their problems, well, everyone who's heard of him. Ain't that funny? To think that there's another person out there with the given name, 'Izaya'. I thought you were special."

Izaya smiled, trying to relax. "You think I'm special?" he said.

"Yeah, maybe," Daisuke said. He laughed. "But I got curious. I asked my buddy, I said, 'What does this information broker look like?' He said Orihara was a skinny guy with brown hair. Kind of girly-looking, but his eyes. He said when he looked at you with those red eyes, it put shivers down your spine."

Izaya clutched the sheets around him, feeling, all of sudden, naked. "And you think that's me," he said, as evenly as he could.

"Yeah," Daisuke said. "I think that's you."

"My name is Nakamura Izaya," Izaya said. "I'm a statistics and metadata analyst at San Bank in Shinjuku and have been for three years. Why are you saying this, Daisuke-san? You know me."

"I know your ass pretty well," Daisuke said. He put out the cigarette on the door, leaving an ashen mark. "But what else? When's your birthday? Where'd you go to school? What the hell does a statistics and whatever the fuck analyst at San Bank even do?"

Izaya strained a little against Daisuke's hold on him. "If you wanted to know those things," he said, "then you could have just asked me instead of accusing me of lying to you for an entire year."

"I thought it was strange from the beginning, you know. Why would a normal want to fuck around with someone from the yakuza?"

"Daisuke-san," Izaya said, pushing against his arm now. "Let go of me."

"I thought it was just 'cause you were gay, you know, like you couldn't get any other man to fuck you up the ass, but that didn't make sense either."

"Daisuke-san, this is getting ridiculous."

"And then I thought, maybe, maybe, it was 'cause you loved me."

"Is that what this is all about?" Izaya said. His breaths were a little shallow now, the sheets uncomfortably warm around him. "You want to know if I'm in love with you?"

Daisuke suddenly released him, letting Izaya take a breath, but then he grabbed Izaya's shoulders. He pulled him closer so that their lips smashed together, and Daisuke was pushy, urgent, Izaya struggling to keep up.

Daisuke twisted Izaya around so that his back clattered against the balcony doors, the glass freezing-cold through his paper-thin sheets. Izaya clung to Daisuke for warmth.

Daisuke pulled back.

"Izaya," he said. His cigarette-breaths were heavy on Izaya's face. "Do you love me?"

"Yes," Izaya said. "I do."

"Say it."

Izaya reached up and kissed him lightly. "I love you, Jin."

"Yeah," Daisuke said. He laughed a little, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I really wanted to hear you say that."

Those large arms suddenly disappeared. Daisuke dived into a mass of clothes on the chair just by them, and when he straightened up, he was panting, red-faced, holding in his massive hand a small, black pistol. Izaya froze.

"Katsunori was right," Daisuke said. His square face was squeezing together, collapsing in on itself as the rest of his body tried in vain to be strong. "You really are good at what you do."

Izaya stared down the barrel of the gun. He looked up at wet, black eyes. He curled his fingers into the soft, cotton sheets, and he leaned back against the glass doors.

"Katsunori was it?" he said. "I'll make sure to remember that."

He was smiling when Daisuke pulled the trigger.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Izaya did remember, after. Katsunori Satoru of Awakusu-kai, Izaya had run a deal with him once, to help find the man his wife was fucking. He'd paid a hefty sum, especially after being informed that the "man" had actually been a woman, just to ensure silence. Not that Izaya ever ratted out his clients. Explicitly.

In this case, the trivial piece of dirt Izaya had on Katsunori served as a nice medium for revenge. That and all the money laundering that son of a bitch was doing on the side.

And as for Daisuke?

Izaya walked along the surf of the beach, running a hand across the scar on his stomach.

Why was he even thinking about that bastard?

It had been almost a year. Izaya was past that now. He knew how to fight. He hadn't been stupid enough to sleep with anyone even remotely related to work; he hadn't slept with anyone, period. He was alive.

It felt good to be alive. It felt good to kiss someone again.

The waves lapped gently at Izaya's bare feet, warm and rhythmic.

Why did he do that again?

Izaya licked his lips. They still tasted like salt.

He had wanted to scare Shizuo. To find out if the idiot was actually attracted to him or not. He hadn't actually intended to go that far.

But if they hadn't been in a public space...

He could have just had sex with him. When Izaya asked the idiot if he wanted to go somewhere private, he had actually been half-serious. They hated each other, but Shizu-chan had been interested. And Izaya had definitely been interested in that body, in those surprisingly skilled lips, in those fingers that were just on the right side of calloused.

Not that it would have been good. Straight men never knew how to do it right, the first time, but Izaya could have taught him, could have ridden him, could have kissed him some more.

Izaya ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

What the fuck was he thinking? The last time he slept with someone, the guy tried to kill him. It wasn't like Shizuo liked him any better than Daisuke had, at the end. Who knew what the brute was thinking anyway? There was an unpredictable quality to him, as if he could jump up and attack somebody at any given moment, which he actually did. Often.

How could Izaya read someone like him?

He could turn out to like Izaya too much. Or too little.

Izaya shook his head at the last thought, laughing softly. He stepped deftly out of the way of a child digging in the sand.

Either way, they had to end this stupid game of theirs, and soon. At this point, it wasn't like Shinra needed the help anyway.

Izaya put his hands in his pockets, curling them into fists. For the first time in seven months, he found himself craving a cigarette.

Shizuo flipped through TV channels. He was sitting on his hotel bed, trying to relax and just pick a fucking program, but he couldn't. Not with the flea on the bed next to him.

It was nighttime. Nothing to do but go to sleep, but Shizuo had showered and brushed his teeth and put on his pajamas, but he just couldn't calm down. Izaya wasn't sleeping either. He was sitting in his half of the room, doing stuff on his computer. He kept on messaging people on his phone too, and every time Shizuo wondered who the hell it could be.

Shizuo had never felt so uncomfortable in his life.

They had kissed. Izaya had kissed him. Then he'd walked away like the motherfucking jackass he was, and fast forward eight hours later, they were here. In the hotel room. Not talking or – god forbid – making eye contact.

Izaya didn't seem bothered by any of it. He had acted normally around Shinra and Celty when Shizuo finally came back – he really couldn't say the same for himself – and when they got to the room, he'd taken a shower, gotten ready for bed, and then cracked open his laptop. That had been three hours ago.

Shizuo wanted to sleep. Fuck, he wanted to smoke. With all this one-sided tension solidifying the air in the room, Shizuo itched for a nice, long drag on his cigarette. He needed some fresh air, as it were.

He clicked onto a food channel.

"...secret is adding a dash of apples. It gives a nice, rounded flavor to your kimchi, and takes care of the smell! Let's go out to the restaurant now to our hungry customers and see their reaction to – "

Shizuo sighed. He shut off the TV.

"Going to bed?" Izaya said, looking up from his computer.

Shizuo glanced over and immediately regretted it. The flea must have been biting his lips or something because they looked bright red. So visible, so right there, even from three feet away.

Fury rushed through him for no apparent reason.

"No," he spit out. Looking away, he climbed out of his bed. "I'm going out."

"Out?" Izaya said.

"For a smoke. I ran out."

Shizuo grabbed a pair of jeans from his travel bag, struggling into them while trying to somehow face away from Izaya and not have his ass stick out.

"Hm. Could you buy me some too?"

Shizuo froze as he reached for his wallet. "You smoke?" he said.

"It's been a while." Izaya looked back at his laptop. "But I suddenly got a craving for them again."

"Whatever," Shizuo said. He grabbed his wallet and stuffed it into his pocket. "Go get it yourself if you want it so bad."

Izaya looked up. At him. "But you're going out anyway."

"Do I look like I fucking care?"

"It's just cigarettes, Shizu-chan," Izaya said, glaring now. "Stop being an asshole and just get me some."

"I'm an asshole?!"

"God, why do I even try with you." Izaya closed his laptop and climbed out of the bed, reaching for his stupid fur-lined jacket.

"What are you doing?" Shizuo said.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm going to buy myself some goddamn cigarettes."

"Why?"

"Are you getting me any?"

"Fuck no!"

"That's why."

Shizuo watched as Izaya put his jacket on over his shirt and sweats (seriously? It was like 15 degrees out there), grabbing his card key as he headed for the door.

"You're serious," Shizuo said, his anger dissipating.

Izaya stopped at the door and looked back at him. "About the cigarettes?" he said. "Yes, I suppose I am."

Shizuo stood there as Izaya snorted softly, everything from his red flip-flops to his eyes contemptuous. He left without another word.

Shizuo stared at the door as it fell back into place. For three seconds, he scowled at it, shaking. At the four second mark, he took a step forward, walked to the door, and followed after Izaya.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The walk was quiet. Izaya didn't question Shizuo when he fell into step beside him, only glancing up briefly, his face guarded. They bought their cigarettes quietly too, exchanging short, muted words with the short, muted cashier, and when they left the convenience store, they continued walking in silence.

Suddenly, Izaya stopped. They were on a boardwalk, white lights lit periodically down the road like captured stars. He shook out a cigarette and leaned against the railing, facing the beach.

"Hey, did you bring your lighter with you?" he said.

Shizuo scowled. "You didn't bring a lighter?"

"Would I be asking you if I did?"

Shizuo glared. Reluctantly, he handed it over.

"Look at you, being all civil," Izaya said, laughing. He lit up before handing it back, and Shizuo thought, briefly, about leaving him there. Smoking outside in the middle of the night, staring at the ocean like a goddamn anime character.

"What the fuck does a Pall Mall taste like?" Shizuo said, lighting his own cigarette. He leaned against the railing too, facing away from the beach.

Izaya glanced over at him, smirking. "Want to find out?" he said.

"Fuck you."

Izaya laughed. "It tastes much better than a Marlboro, that much I can guarantee. Seriously, how can you smoke that stuff?"

"I like it," Shizuo said, frowning.

"Of course you do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're an unrefined brat who's been smoking the same brand since you were what, twelve?"

"Thirteen," Shizuo said. He scowled at some passerby. "So what if I've been smoking the same brand?"

Izaya exhaled languidly, the white smoke curling out of his mouth almost delicately. "You're afraid of new things," he said, with a half-smile. "You're a man of habit, Shizu-chan. Your nature is solid, immovable. It's one of the things I hate about you."

"You get that from what brand of cigarettes I smoke?" Shizuo said, scoffing.

"No. I've just spent a lot of time around you. And I'm observant, unlike some people."

"You don't know anything about me," Shizuo growled.

"Well, I'm sure there are some things I don't know..."

Shizuo took a drag on his cigarette, instead of punching the flea as he laughed.

"Like your birthday," he said, sobering, but still chuckling. He stared at his cigarette, smiling softly. "Or where you went to school."

"Why the fuck would I tell you that?"

Izaya laughed again, quietly. "You can if you want," he said. "It's useless information anyway."

They stood quietly in another stretch of silence. For some reason, it didn't bother Shizuo as much as it normally did. He stared at a couple several feet away from them. They were holding hands, getting closer as they strolled down the boardwalk. The man was in his pajamas, a blue and red plaid pattern that made him look ridiculous but it was clear, even from this distance, that the woman had eyes only for him.

Shizuo puffed out on his cigarette.

"You know," he said. "The first time I ever dated was in high school. They asked me out, and I turned them down, at first, but after a while, I ended up accepting."

Izaya leaned his head on his hand, crossing his legs. "Why?" he said.

"I got tired of refusing every single time. And I figured it couldn't hurt."

"Why did you break up?"

Shizuo looked over at him. He blew out on his cigarette. "People found out we were dating," he said.

"So you managed to attract one of the popular girls." Izaya laughed. "And when her friends found out she was dating the local delinquent, they freaked. Did she break it to you gently at least?"

"It..." Shizuo blushed. He needed to stop doing that. "It wasn't...a girl."

"What?" Izaya looked up, his dark eyes wide. "Say that again," he said. "Look at me and say that again."

Shizuo looked at him. Izaya was staring at him, looking honestly surprised. Looking honest.

"The first person I dated was a guy," Shizuo said. "The first person that I – " he cleared his throat, blushing harder. " – that I slept with was a guy. So don't fucking think that I'm – whatever – towards you just because I wanna know what it's like or some shit."

"Wait," Izaya said. He turned, bodily, towards Shizuo. "You're gay?"

Shizuo scowled, looking away. "Girls, guys, what does it matter?" he said. "I don't care about things like that."

Izaya stared for a second, and then he was leaning against the railing, laughing so hard his cigarette dropped to the floor, forgotten.

"Oh my god," he said, between breaths. "Oh my god, you actually said it!"

Shizuo crushed his own cigarette between his fingers. "What?" he growled. "What the fuck is so funny this time?"

Izaya clutched his stomach. "Because!" he said. "Shinra was actually right!"

"Shinra? What the fuck does Shinra have to do with anything?"

"Nothing, nothing," Izaya said, waving him off. He turned around so that he was facing the ocean again, though by now all he could smile at was blank darkness. "So you're bi. I've got to admit, I did not see that one coming."

Shizuo threw his cigarette on the floor, reaching for a new one. "Yeah, I guess," he said, glaring.

"So?" Izaya said, looking at him, still smiling. "What happened with him?"

Shizuo struggled to light his cigarette. "What?"

"What happened? You managed to consummate your relationship with him, and then what?"

"Then we hung out and stuff, I guess – goddammit." Shizuo flicked the lighter again, but his cigarette still remained unlit. His hands were shaking now, his anger rising.

"Just give it here," Izaya said. He took the lighter from Shizuo's hands, and Shizuo let him, too frustrated to care. He stood very still as Izaya lit an open flame just two inches in front of his face. The flea smelled like his stupid Pall Malls. His hand was different, though; it still smelled a little like the soap he used – fresh, like flowery rain.

"So you 'hung out'," Izaya said, tossing Shizuo's lighter back to him. He scoffed. "How romantic. What did you do to get found out?"

"Why are you so curious?"

Izaya smiled. "Why not?"

Shizuo held his gaze for a second, and then leaned back on the railing, taking a much-needed drag on his cigarette. "Someone caught us kissing at school," he muttered.

"Where at school?"

Shizuo glanced at him. "On the rooftop," he said. "It was where I went to smoke most of the time. Janitor always forgot to lock it."

"Mm-hm." Izaya turned so that he was facing the boardwalk now instead of the beach, just like Shizuo. "What did he look like?" he said. "Your so-called lover."

"Why do you want to know that?" Shizuo said.

"Just tell me. Or do you not remember?"

"Of course I remember!"

"Do you really?"

"The fuck is wrong with you?!" Shizuo said. "Of course I do, I – !" He stopped. He took a breath, leaning back.

"You what?" Izaya said, staring.

"Nothing, I – " Shizuo ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He glanced at Izaya, who was still staring. Intensely. "...He was my junior," Shizuo found himself saying. He looked at the floor as he spoke. "A year younger. So he was smaller than me, I guess, but I don't know. He seemed bigger too, sometimes, like...he had a lot of personality. His hair was long. Shoulder-length, but he would tie it up all the time. He dyed his hair too, but not blond. It was brown. And I guess he took good care of it, 'cause it was always so soft, and it was kind of wavy, especially in the morning. That's when he took a shower. He was really fit because he did soccer, and the guy was always smiling, you know? Like – "

"Okay, okay," Izaya said. He rolled his eyes. "I got it. Definitely sounds like your first love."

Shizuo blushed. "Wha – ?"

"So?" Izaya looked up at him, smiling his all-knowing smile. "How did it end?"

"I told you. People found out."

"That doesn't tell me anything, Shizu-chan," Izaya said. "Did you dump him? Did he dump you? Was there a big scene? Was it private? Did anyone cry?"

"No one cried!" Shizuo growled.

Izaya smirked. "He broke it off with you then."

Shizuo drew in deeply from his cigarette. Exhaling, he let the smoke surround him, building a wall between the pest and him.

"I scared him," Shizuo said. "I kept on fighting the guys that were picking on him, and when he told me that's not what he wanted, I got angry. We ended up fighting about that all the time, and then it kind of just...ended."

"I'm sorry."

Shizuo looked over. Izaya was staring ahead, at nothing in particular, but then he seemed to sense Shizuo's gaze. He turned to look at him too. Catching Shizuo's eye, he smiled.

"I'm not sleeping with you just because you told me that, you know," he said.

Shizuo stared. Then he was smiling. Then, somehow, he was laughing. He doubled over and crushed the cigarette in his hand, the muscles in his cheeks demanding to know if this was worth it. But it was. When had been the last time Shizuo had laughed like this?

Maybe not since then.

Shizuo fell on his ass, his mangled cigarette falling to the floor. He was still laughing.

"You psychopath," Izaya said, laughing a little too. "It wasn't that funny."

Shizuo just sat there, riding out the giggles. Every now and them, Izaya kicked him, telling him to shut up, saying that he was an idiot, smiling with him. Eventually, Shizuo sobered up enough to suggest that they start heading back to the hotel.

"Great," Izaya said. "It's fucking cold out here."

This sent Shizuo off again. They did start going back, eventually. They bickered the whole way there. They shouted at each other, loud enough to make people whisper and stare and even shout at them back. They didn't notice, or care. The whole way there, neither of them stopped smiling.

Author's Note:

Sorry for the relatively slow update this time! Life got in the way, as it tends to do. Hope you guys liked this chapter, I wasn't really sure how to fit everything together. Let me know what you think!