Chapter 28: Growing interest
Just when had humans decided to become nocturnal?
Eyes of drowsiness and exhaustion looked at the streetlamps flying past the window. The familiar sound of the limousine's engine thrummed pleasantly all the way to the back of the vehicle and Izaya closed his eyes in a short moment of peace.
His hours spent in home office didn't last long.
A day. A single night. And now, mere hours after awaking in his bed with a body more sore than he wanted it to be, he was sitting next to Creston yet again.
Eyes focused on the display of his phone, the guy was immersed in a conversation with one of their underlings.
Izaya knew them all, by face and name. His recognition and ability to memorize useless facts had provided more than useful when it came to managing their own rows.
A single glance revealing the first few digits was enough for Izaya to know who Creston was talking to and his attention diverted back to the bypassing streets. Layers of cotton and satin wrapped Izaya's upper body in a dark sophisticated purple. He rarely opted for the color as he knew exactly what kind of approaches his attire usually tempted, but after taking a look at his wardrobe and the injury laughing at him with light jabs of pain he knew better than to decide against the most comfortable attire he possessed.
Strings crossing each other loosely barely tied his collar and only enhanced his frail nature. Same went for the sleeves, ending just below his elbows and the way the shirt loosely brushed across his waist.
The set of tight black pants and a somewhat paler skin than usual brought on a heavy sense of nobility that Izaya was well aware of.
It was funny. Considering the previous events and his current state he was probably looking his best despite feeling his worst.
Finally stopping in front of the club Night Salvage the lights at the back came on. They were heavily dimmed and brought to a glimmer of orange only as both Creston and Izaya enjoyed a more shaded atmosphere.
Was that part of their nocturnal lifestyle? Or did their lifestyle adjust their tastes?
Endless hours of sleep skipped and the way Izaya met more people at midnight than at daytimes caused him to wonder just when humanity had devolved to prefer the dark of the night over the light of sun.
"Make sure you don't get stabbed again."
Lovely.
Turning his head Izaya cast a glance of mere seconds towards his superior. A tired smile. That was all he had to offer, but it was enough to satisfy the guy.
"I wasn't about to make it a new hobby," Izaya sighed and with a short flick of his wrist he pulled the door shut.
Eyes flickered to the front, and he quickly found himself alone. The limousine had driven off and only a small cloud of cold air dancing in front of his face spent him company as he looked at the entrance of the club.
Security had increased.
Additional body checks performed by a second set of doormen seemed to be the new standard and Izaya swallowed a quick smile.
Made sense. After all, a certain someone had only recently been stabbed inside the club. It was a matter that was only supposed to happen once in a club's lifetime.
One time served publicity that served a certain amount of thrill.
Who was it that had been stabbed?
Was the club dangerous?
What kind of people were visiting it?
And most importantly- what kind of possibilities did merging into that atmosphere mean? The connections possibly drawn and the possibilities seemed endless and only worked in the clubs favor at the end of the day.
Only a second assault would tip the scales into danger's favor and cause people to avoid the club rather than seek it.
Feeling the cold breeze of the night air crawl up the back of his spine, Izaya's legs finally moved.
His duty was simple.
Remain at the bar until further orders followed.
It was funny how often his night started with this pattern only to end in an absolute clusterfuck.
A brief nod was offered to the doorman to the right. A guy that had learned to know who he was and knew better than to ask him for his name or attempt to search his belongings.
Unlocking a thick rope of red Izaya quickly found himself showered in glances of both envy and interest.
Who was he to just skip the line? That was probably the thought pattern in most minds following him and it caused his lips to curl into a quick smile.
His injury was healing well. The doctor had really done a fantastic job when it came to endurance and stability.
Not a droplet of blood was to be found when he changed his bandaids earlier this morning and even while moving it was more of a tenderness that forced his body into gentle motions than actual pain.
Of all sensations he currently felt the tinge of lightheadedness was probably worse than the actual tear of flesh.
Quick beats and hard cuts of a classical music piece having been chopped to bits welcomed him as soon as he descended the small flight of stairs.
It was an odd sensation.
To be here.
Sure he had already headed back to the oval lounge right after having been stabbed. But the delirium he had been in and the level of painkillers drowsing his vision had prevented him from feeling the sensations he did now.
Uneasiness.
Just a slight hint of it sat on his shoulder as he looked at the crowd dancing in the middle of the dancefloor.
Logically speaking he knew the odds of getting stabbed twice in a row were incredibly low if not nonexistent, but somehow he couldn't quite shake the mild sprinkling of anxiety on the cake that was his current state of mind.
Lights moved, liqueur glittered and glasses clicked in small toasts and pure joy of being alive. Of course there was also the light shadow of shadiness, layered finely around the tables of the room and Izaya took a deep breath as he advanced towards the bar.
His favourite seat.
It was empty as usual and all too soon he spotted another favourite right next to it as a certain face raised from the fridge's level.
Relief. Pleasantry. And probably a question was painted across Shizuo's face as he met Izaya's gaze and immediately bettered his mood.
"You look better."
No words that day had sounded as pleasant as those three as Shizuo's voice struggled to fight the onslaught of high pitched music and beats.
Slipping into his seat Izaya smiled and quickly made himself comfortable. Elbow on the counter and chin meeting his palm all he had to offer was a smile and an infinity of curiosity.
"Might be because I am."
Doubt laid in Shizuo's eyes, but his smile didn't falter even whilst finishing what appeared to be a guest's order behind the counter.
"You got some decent rest?"
Oranges were cut into delicate spirals and a crystal glass on the side garnished with its finishing touch. Izaya couldn't quite tear his eyes off the mesmerizing precision and speed Shizuo handled the drink with and shrugged.
"Decent might be too much but I got an adequate amount, yeah."
More guests than usual seemed to be raiding the bar and Izaya noted he rarely visited the club as early as this.
A short glance to the clock showed the hour hand barely brushing past the mark of nine.
"A New York Sour, please." Was the next order given to the bartender by one of the guests that had approached the bar and Izaya somehow found himself swallowing his urge to talk as he watched instead.
Shizuo was as much of a skilled bartender as he was fast. Quicker than any bartender should be, the whisky sour was poured into a tumbler showing patterns of spears and cuts and a spoon delicately hovered above the drinks surface.
Wine, the ingredient that differentiated the New York Sour from its lacking counterpart, was carefully poured over the back of the bar spoon and created the desired clean float of red on top of beige.
It was an impressive skill to create the drink as quickly as Shizuo did and Izaya found himself oddly captivated by the movement of his hands. A short skewer of polished metal pierced through a ring of lemon and a single cherry, creating the shape of a half moon and finished the drink with fascinating precision.
Quicker than liked the drink was handed over and the guest left with a satisfied expression on his face.
Well known silence of no quiet kind lingered on the counter and Shizuo's eyes met Izaya's in a short question as he nodded towards the embossed cocktail card.
The question was easy.
Which one?
Tapping onto the easiest to make Izaya's fingertip brushed across a virgin sunrise. Orange juice, pineapple juice and the needed lemon were mixed into a shaker prepared with grenadine. The ice added inside the object served the familiar sound of a regular bar's background and within a hot minute Izaya found the desired drink moved towards his hands.
It was pretty. Somehow retained its gradient color descension too and he took a small sip before raising his voice once more.
"So," he started, and to his joy Shizuo seemed perfectly attached to his lips the moment they spoke. Eyes flickering up from his drink, Izaya spared a teasing smile.
"How many people have you given that number?"
The question was simple and the answer should have been too, but he still seemed to have caught the bartender off guard as he blinked in genuine perplexion.
"Which?"
Honestly Izaya felt the need to laugh, but quickly swallowed the chuckle from his lips as his curiosity far outweighed his humor.
"Yours."
He didn't know what it was that he had expected. Embarrassment? Maybe a light hint of regret for handing it out? Or maybe something different- a tease, or an excuse.
But the unbothered expression on Shizuo's face was none of that and threw Izaya more out of concept than he liked to admit.
"Just you," Shizuo said, as if it were the most natural fact to admit.
Hesitation marked Izaya's attitude for a moment as he was unsure how to react to the statement. A devious hint of joy sprung forth somewhere from the back of his mind, but was quickly shut down by the obvious lack of passion in those words.
"I feel honored," he cleared his throat after a short pause and his gaze flickered back to his drink as if he were just as unbothered by the topic as Shizuo was. "The reason?"
He wasn't even sure what he was hoping for. To be turned down without having asked for anything beyond a relationship as a guest and a bartender? Or the opposite?
Maybe Izaya just wanted to know what this was. This interaction. Their talks. The way he called him the day before and the hopes he had gotten up for no reason at all.
But either Shizuo didn't seem to get the true nature of this conversation or he was just really as uninterested as Izaya feared he was.
"Does everything need to have a reason?"
Certainly not. Shizuo was right. And his answer was a perfect one even if it was disappointing.
"So you were just bored and thought why not give some stranger my number?" Izaya sighed.
"I would hardly call you a stranger," Shizuo added with a quick snort. And he was right. He was right as much as he was wrong.
Looking at his cocktail void of alcohol Izaya traced the rim on its top.
"... you know nothing about me."
It was a fact. One that was more than welcomed at the end of the day and yet-
Movement in the surface of his beverage caused Izaya to raise his glance once more- and he was met with a smile.
Shizuo had come closer.
Leant onto the bar counter, as if trying to regain the attention he had thought he had lost.
Meaningful and low his lips moved and his words formed, "Then enlighten me," he whispered, and suddenly it was there.
A smile at the corner of his lips. Curiosity sparkling in the corner of his eyes and Izaya felt his body tense in the sweet bait of anticipation.
He wasn't imagining things. Shizuo truly was flirting with him. Was interested in him-
And yet, as much as Izaya wished for it he realized he didn't want to answer.
"Bad idea," he returned, tasting the bitter aftertaste on his tongue upon turning down what he had hoped to achieve. But Shizuo wasn't easy to set back.
"Because you don't trust me?" he asked, with pure honesty in his voice and for some reason Izaya felt the need to reply with the same kind.
"Because I will get you in trouble."
It was the truth. The bare, undeniable and bitter truth. Truer than the music flooding the air and the warmth of people heating the room.
This place was gorgeous as much as it was dangerous. Shizuo should have been aware of that fact that moment he started working at this club, but it seemed he had forgotten if it was Izaya that he was interested in.
Izaya expected understanding. Recognition. Maybe realization of the kind that displayed on Shizuo's expression and marked his following actions with coldness and indifference.
He was prepared for it, because that was ultimately for the best. Just sitting here and being able to joke around and playfully tease each other was more than Izaya could wish for.
But that was not what Shizuo was willing to give.
A smile spread across his expression, disregarding the threat of Izaya's words as though he had just warned a bird about a cliff and falling off it if it went too far.
A light hum graced his lips. A smile.
"So you do trust me?"
And a conclusion that caused Izaya to blink.
Backtracking their conversation he noticed with slight confusion and irritation that Shizuo had just decided to skip his previous answer and came up with a new one derived from his lack of denial.
"That's what you are taking away?" Izaya asked with a perplexed frown on his face- but Shizuo was right. Right in every aspect spoken and he felt oddly put on the spot. "Don't you know fear?" he asked further, but stopped short as his expression fell. He still remembered it. The way Shizuo had stepped in between the guy that had threatened him with a gun and snorted at his own silly question. "Nevermind don't answer that."
A man that didn't know fear was dangerous. Awfully gullible. Prone to die quickly in Izaya's line of work and that idea caused his stomach to clench.
But he was wrong.
"I do know fear."
Lifting his gaze he looked at Shizuo, expecting to meet an expression that just served what he wanted to hear. But instead he was looking at honesty. Experience. What kind, he couldn't tell, but suddenly it wasn't just Shizuo the bartender he was looking at, but someone with way more to his story than just stirring liquids in a couple glasses.
"Tell me something about you." Quickly an unreasonable desire to learn more about this man overwhelmed Izaya's sense of reason for a brief second. "One thing."
"To satisfy your curiosity?" Shizuo asked, and Izaya found himself nodding quicker than he should.
"I will do the same."
Borderline crazy. That's what Izaya was. What on earth was he offering? Lies easily came to his lips and he knew multiple ways to string a heartfelt story that would capture Shizuo's attention.
But that's not what he was offering and he was heavily aware of that fact.
What was this urge to remain truthful? This craving to speak his mind and act as he wished?
The bait he dropped was one easily discarded, because at the end of the day why would Shizuo reveal anything about himself just for the outlook of a random fact about Izaya?
And yet it seemed the bait was more delicious than Izaya thought as Shizuo leant in.
"Instead of telling, can I ask you something?"
A question.
There it was. But what kind would it be?
"Are you trying to cheat?" Izaya chuckled with the slightest hint of tease in his voice, but Shizuo shook his head with a quick snort.
"Not really."
It wasn't wise.
Not wise to talk like this. Not wise to dig this tunnel, Izaya found himself in, even deeper. And yet there he was.
Unable to act against his reason.
"Go ahead."
to be continued~
Beware_ flirting ahead xDDD This conversation is not over by far haha C:
See you next friday~! C: