Chapter 27: Where were we?

What was worse? Lack of sleep or getting stabbed?

A question no one would ask except for Izaya he supposed as he let his head tilt back on his chair and glanced at the ever so white and boring ceiling.

He was at home. Creston's home. Their home. Whatever term was best to describe this fancy place.

Materials of glass, marble and wood made up pieces of furniture with materials that weren't supposed to be used for such objects. It caused Izaya to wonder whether there was a lot of sense to interior design and deliberately creating works of art that were not going to last even a year.

What about the staircase inside the apartment for example?

There was one to the side, held up by iron strings consisting of purplish glass. Of course its design appeared fancy and the golden light showering the ascending plates created a beautiful and intricate pattern- but was it necessary or practical?

He could hear the poor housemaid curse every single time she had to clean that thing and somehow the craving for objects that fell out of the norm was beyond him.

But then again this was Creston's place. And having this kind of exalted taste was probably just another trait he liked to add to his gorgeous personality.

Light after light was skipped as Izaya's eyes moved back down from the ceiling and towards his desk instead.

Simple and sturdy. It was by no means ugly or badly designed, but it fulfilled its purpose without creating extra trouble at least.

Letting his palm slither across the black material with occasional streaks of roségold patterns Izaya sighed softly.

They were starting to lose their effect.

The painkillers that is.

His laptop was resting upon the surface and blankly staring at him with the bright light of demonic intentions. Just glancing into its direction caused Izaya's headache to peak and he quickly pulled it shut.

One day.

That was all he got.

One day in home office.

Even Creston seemed to have realized that dragging him around in his state was not the wisest decision and after Izaya had left the club he received a call telling him to stay at their apartment for the following day.

And that's exactly what he was doing right now.

The sun was glowing strongly and flooding the entire apartment with its golden glow. It was a beautiful morning, really.

Had it just not been for his all nighter and the stabbing wound.

Glaring at where the fabric of his shirt was hiding his injury, Izaya returned to his earlier question as the lack of sleep bit the back of his eyes.

Lack of sleep or getting stabbed?

Which was worse?

Considering the initial sensation of pain, getting stabbed seemed to be the clear winner, but right now with the painkillers working perfectly fine and the wound closing up nicely, it was the lack of proper rest and sleep that took more of a toll on Izaya's body.

So sleep. Or rather, deprivation thereof. Yeah, that was worse than getting stabbed. At least right now.

Opening his eyes after having closed them for just a few seconds he tried to ignore the powerful jabs the sun's rays shot towards his mind and reached for a pile of files.

He needed to organize the transfer.

Khrushchev wanted an update on their logistics as well as the time and place of their transaction. Of course all a farce. She was most definitely going to change the reception area to something different yet close by, but pretenses were there for a reason.

At least Izaya was lucky when it came to his peace. Creston had yet to return from Night Salvage and somehow seeing how the sun was rising with no signs of stopping he had a feeling the guy was pulling an all nighter as well.

It was somewhat assuring to know he wasn't the only one suffering at least and so Izaya sighed softly before straightening his back inside his swivel chair.

Work.

Work, work, work.

Hurrying up was not only going to end his suffering sooner but also distract him from the massive headache coming up.

Reaching for his phone Izaya unlocked it with a quick show of his face.

He had meant to look up the name of one of Creston's clients, but instead all he saw was a number.

Unknown.

The display had been left open from when Creston had called and the one to use his phone last was-

Looking at the numbers aligning in a neat row Izaya couldn't help but hesitate for a brief moment.

…

Right. Shizuo.

He had asked him for his phone. Had typed in his number without being asked to. If it even was his number.

No it probably was. What sense would there be to type down someone else's?

Seconds passed. A whole minute.

And somehow Izaya couldn't bring himself to exit the calling section.

It was a quick motion. Too quick to even think about it and before Izaya knew it he had typed away mindlessly.

Shizuo's number was saved. And a message being written.

Mindlessly. A bit silly.

But Shizuo wasn't going to reply anyway, right?

He had never really gone and said it aloud and so he typed what he had meant to tell the blond.

"Thanks for saving my ass."

The moment his phone vibrated came as much of a surprise as the reply that followed almost immediately.

"You are welcome."

Snorting softly, Izaya looked at this phone in mild disbelief. Had he been waiting for him to write or how was he this fast?

And the way he answered that message.

What was he? A man of forty?

Also.

It was 11am.

With a shift ending around 6am he doubted Shizuo owned the best sleeping pattern if he was still awake and on his phone at this hour.

The swivel chair creaked and Izaya's fingers moved before he knew what he was doing.

"Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

It was a simple question, really. One that could easily be ignored, or rather, one that Izaya didn't actually expect a reply to.

And one that definitely didn't deserve a call-

Vibrating out of nowhere his own phone startled Izaya to the point he almost dropped it as he stared disbelieving at the caller's name.

Shizuo?

Huh.

Why-

Picking up faster than he was able to come up with theories as to why Shizuo was calling him he brought the phone to his ear.

"I didn't expect you to call."

Izaya cursed himself. His voice sounded as startled as he truly was as he failed to hide any of it.

He was unprepared- and that was a sensation he wasn't sure he liked-

"I don't like writing."

Ah.

And suddenly it was there.

Shizuo's voice.

Awfully gentle and pleasant to the ear with no sign of rush or annoyance. Sweet like caramel folding around a piece of dark chocolate his low tune brought a blissfully sensation of peace to Izaya's mind.

He liked it.

His voice.

Funny, at the bar they had been doing nothing else but talk- but right now, with no clutter interrupting their words and no music dimming their voices it felt as though he was listening to Shizuo speak for the first time.

"What are you doing up?" Shizuo asked and before Izaya knew what he was doing his own lips curled into a smile.

This wasn't too bad.

Relaxing.

Letting his tired body lean into the back of his swivel chair he shrugged despite the inability of his counterpart to see it.

"Work. What else?"

Was it wise to speak the truth? Should he have lied about resting? Or should he have stayed ambiguous and replied with no clear answer at all? The options he could have taken somehow only entered his mind after having missed his chance and Izaya lightly cursed at his inability to think straight.

"I thought you got rid of him?" Shizuo asked and it was clear that he was talking about Creston.

After dousing himself with water and leaving the club like that he had made no secret of the fact that he really needed a god damn break from the guy.

Was Shizuo worried about him?

The feeling of light dousing the apartment suddenly seemed to reach to the very depths of Izaya's chest as he swallowed.

"Only to the extent of being allowed to skip public places," he replied truthfully- what for, he didn't know. He could have assured the blond. Could have told him he was only doing computer work. Digging for some information. Nothing dangerous.

And yet he kept his answer vague- did he want Shizuo to worry over him?

Dangerous silence of many meanings took over a few moments and Izaya was tempted to check his phone for a stable connection by the point Shizuo finally spoke.

"Are you alone?"

Had there been a medal for the speed that surprise held when it flashed across Izaya's face it certainly would have won with flying colors.

Confusion mixed with a weird sense of anticipation caused Izaya's lips to move without words as he blinked.

"The reason you are asking?" he snorted lightly, as if telling a joke- and felt disappointed when Shizuo replied.

"If he is not there what's keeping you from sleeping?"

Right.

He almost got his hopes up there-

For what? He wasn't too sure.

"You are aware that phones, emails and messages exist, right?" Izaya sighed softly and pulled the cover of his laptop back up.

Almost immediately he regretted the action as the intense colors of blue and white shot jabs of pain towards his eyes.

"Phones can be put on silent. And if worse comes to worst, blame a side effect of the painkillers," Shizuo continued and Izaya couldn't deny how tempting his idea sounded.

Skipping work was no option. And yet-

Looking towards the bedroom he had left way too early for an injured man, Izaya felt the presence of the devil on his shoulder.

Of course he craved sleep. He craved rest. Wanted that injury to heal quickly in order for him to move around again as much as he pleased.

"You still there?"

Realizing that Izaya had failed to reply for a full minute he sighed softly as he closed his eyes.

"I'm contemplating your idea."

"To sleep?"

"Just for an hour maybe," Izaya hummed aloud. "Or two." Actually half a day sounded more like it was going to cut his needs. But with Creston sitting in his neck to show results that simply was no true option.

"Talking about sleep you should be getting some as well." Izaya recalled as the hand of the clock in the corner of Creston's apartment kept moving relentlessly towards the 12am mark. It was as much of a prestige object as it was supposed to show the time.

Diamonds and skillfully sanded glass reflected the sun in all kinds of varieties and Izaya caught one of the playful rays with the palm of his hand.

"I'm not the one who got stabbed," Shizuo pointed out and somehow Izaya felt the urge to smile. He cared.

Well of course he did. Shizuo saved his life. Had Izaya saved someone from bleeding to death in front of his eyes he really wouldn't want that person to die from overexertion after putting out all that effort.

And yet- it wasn't just that, or was it? Did he wish for it?

Confronted with an odd cocktail of emotions, Izaya quickly chased away the destructive thoughts in his mind.

"But you are the one just getting off a nightshift," he pointed out and did a quick calculation of how many hours Shizuo would have left to sleep before starting his next shift. Only five. Considering the club opened around six. That couldn't be healthy.

"Are you tracking my working hours?" Shizuo suddenly snorted, and the question itself tackling the exact train of thoughts that he just had didn't exactly help-

"No, I have just been to your club long enough to know the term closing hour is very flexible depending on the guests," Izaya replied quickly, and he swore he had never been more glad for his ability to come up with quick responses on the fly.

"That's true." Shizuo agreed, and somehow those two simple words alone were enough to render Izaya speechless.

Why?

He felt inclined to talk more.

He wanted to hear more of Shizuo's voice.

More like this, close to his ear, with his attention only on him-

"Izaya?"

Startled by the fact that he had yet again reverted to an ice statue incapable of speech, Izaya quickly cleared his throat.

"Ah, sorry, might have dozed off there."

A lie.

Of course that was a lie.

Albeit he wouldn't deny that the idea of falling asleep to Shizuo's voice wasn't a tempting idea.

A soft chuckle was all he received and words of care. "Rest well. We don't want you bleeding all over our floor."

Right.

"I will. I wouldn't dare to create more work for you," Izaya snorted and with that he was gone.

Blinking softly, Izaya checked the screen showing the duration of the call.

Shizuo had hung up. Just like that.

Already?

Of course.

He wanted him to rest after all-

The slight tinge of regret filled Izaya's mind as he heaved himself off his chair with a groan. Shizuo was apparently as quick to end a call as he was to making it. Phone pressed against his lips Izaya couldn't help but smile.

Somehow the headache he had had earlier was gone.

And Shizuo- Shizuo wore a similar expression as he looked at the dark screen of his phone.

A suit made of only the finest materials was clothing his body and the faint stench of cigars laid bare in the air.

A door on the side sliding open revealed an impatient man of older age and a nasty scar.

"Leaving for a call isn't exactly professional," he hushed with bitterness in his words, but Shizuo couldn't care less as he let the phone slip back inside his jacket.

"It was important."

And with that he moved inside. A table longer than the room stretched along the floor and a variety of men glared towards Shizuo in anticipation as he finally spoke.

"Now, where were we?"

to be continued~

Yo xD Sorry for skipping last week's updates I kinda went to hospital …. again x'D Had over 40C for a little too long haha But now I am better! And I hope it stays this way jeeez x'D

Anyway~ Hope you liked the mysterious update and see you next friday C: