Chapter 1: call it as you see
Chapter Text
Pet names and false intimacy are easy bait to get under someone's skin. It affronts the nature of trust and love, twisting into ugliness.
Izaya couldn't help it. His smiles were the same, handsome features perverted by a demonic mask.
"Shizu! ShizuShizu! Long time, no see," the informant called after dodging a flying street sign.
He couldn't dodge the trash can. The flat length nailed his side, so the damage wasn't horrible, but then Izaya looked down.
Untied, used condoms and soft drink sludge spilled onto his most gorgeous coat-- the custom, full-length, double-breasted one with a fur hood sewn in from the collar toward the lapels to match the cuff trim and delicate hem which doesn't drag across the ground due to the wonderful designer's consideration of his measurements. Izaya ordered it from a creator on Etsy for over ¥50000.00, and while it was not the most expensive one he owned (that title went to a coat made purely from two bear pelts), it was dearly loved.
.
He fainted.
Chapter 2: call it what you'd like
Summary:
"When you pulled away, you were such a cute scrunkly scrimblo. Maybe I should choke on things more often," he teased.
Notes:
i am so bad at deciding if suggestive scenarios belong in the teen or mature rating bro HOW do people decide
Chapter Text
"...I'm sorry about the coat," Shizuo grumbled, putting nigiri to his lips in hopes to muffle any evidence of him apologizing to his worst enemy.
Their encounter happened close enough to Russia Sushi, and Simon made Shizuo help carry the dramatic, unconscious man into the restaurant.
"Don't mention it," Izaya groaned, feeling naked without soft fur to define his attractive, but otherwise normal, appearance.
They were in a back room, Simon kind enough to strip away the cum-and-cola-contaminated custom coat with only Shizuo as a witness and currently calling a trustworthy cleaning service (not for bodies this time!).
Shizuo thought Izaya would slit the back of his throat upon waking, but there was something about the setting which sedated the info broker. It wasn't just the threats from Simon and Denis keeping the peace, either, as the fortissimo had wicked intuition-- he refused to call himself an empath. "...Are you, uh, friends with Simon?"
As if God were hellbent on filling Izaya's day with constant inconvenience, the man began to choke on his chutoro out of surprise. No way did the other man put an emphasis on 'friends' the way his parents did when first suspecting that their son was more than simply withdrawn from other boys his age.
When Shizuo made the move closer to help Izaya, the shorter man recoiled in fear, hands twitching between the choice to hold his neck or protect his ribcage. The stronger man definitely sensed this apprehension, as he pressed his thumb and two fingers past the intformant's lips, pulling the fish from his throat instead of doing something more traditional.
Izaya realized that he was baring his open throat to the other man, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and a redness in his face from breathlessness. He closed his lips quickly, but this was an overbalance, as Shizuo had not moved his hand away in time to avoid being literally sucked into that mouth, tongue moving around to find a comfortable place in the newly crowded space.
Now is the time for Simon to come back, because Nietzsche was regrettably right: God is dead. He simply stood there, eyes trained at the connection between the two foes.
The offending piece of tuna slid out of Izaya's mouth, landing on the table with a slimy plop like an extension of the man's tongue. Shizuo removed his fingers from the delightfully warm hole, misplaced concern and confusion finally bubbling into frustration towards Simon for making him step inside this place.
Simon, not wanting to get into another fistfight, smiled with his hands raised in surrender. "We care not! We care not!"
"Though we're afraid of the owl and wolf," Izaya finished in Russian, amusedly singing the tune with one hand's gentle pressure to his aching throat.
Shizuo's anger gave way to confusion once more, since the other two clearly had something nice enough to share two languages and what sounded like children's songs. Izaya didn't have friends in the traditional sense, but this behavior was normally saved for a drinking buddy of decades-- not even counting the coat favor.
Whatever. The thought passed. Simon left. Shizuo wiped off his saliva-coated fingers. Things should have been back to a pseudonormalcy.
"Thanks. For not letting me die."
It was the least Izaya could say, but the blame for his predicament fell on Shizuo this time. He thought it fair, considering that he would spare the other man reparations for coat damages.
But, he continued. When did the informant ever let sleeping dogs lie? "When you pulled away, you were such a cute scrunkly scrimblo. Maybe I should choke on things more often," he teased, flicking out the tongue that swirled around the blond's fingers barely minutes ago.
Shizuo's brain short-circuited. He knew the flea was a good actor, but he couldn't even detect malice behind the mockery. It was so confusing, since it felt kind of nice, even if it was Izaya. The guy was fucked up, but there were some standards he held which allowed this one indulgent feeling to bloom. Then:
"A WHAT."
Izaya set bills on the table, put the chutoro back in his mouth, and ran to grab a spare coat from under a floor panel before Shizuo gained the sensibility to choke him out. Another chase began.
Chapter 3: call it you and me
Chapter Text
Needless to say, Izaya was humiliated. From fainting in front of the enemy to getting fingers in his throat, he kept getting owned by cosmic forces. Hopefully he would still be able to outrun the monster without the aid of throwing knives in hidden coat pockets.
Shizuo didn't let up, but made no true effort to catch the flea after saving his life. Their hateful banter remained, though perhaps morphed into a new beast to compensate for the lack of projectiles.
"You treated me like a dog who found chicken bones!"
"Not my fault you're a bitch, bitch!"
After a few miles of running, Izaya ended up in an apartment. He made himself at home, removing his shoes and coat, though he kept the door open out of fear of Shizuo knocking it from its hinges.
Like a bloodhound, the blond followed, destructive rage threatening to collapse the very air of the building in on itself. However, it was the murderous aura which dissipated into a black hole.
His nose twitched, recognizing the faint smell of Chanel Allure Homme, and the rest of him sagged in drowsiness. It was strong to him, since the only people who wore cologne were foreigners and the flea. That's why Shizuo thought Izaya smelled disgusting-- it was overpowering in comparison to bodies ranging from clean to sweaty.
Unlike the vermin's trademark douchebag perfume, this scent marked the presence of someone kind.
Noting Shizuo's change in behavior, Izaya relaxed, even in his other posturing. "...I'm sorry for calling you a cute scrunkly scrimblo. You are more of a spoingle."
"Why the fuck would you say that, man?" the blond said, though there was not nearly enough bite.
"You aren't willing to kill me right now. I can't have you getting cold on that hatred," the broker teased. He was pleading.
Shizuo was not going to touch the conflicting feelings that started to build from their meal. "So, how were you able to pick Simon's lock so quickly?"
Izaya simply held up his keychain, soft chuckle jingling along with the metal.
"Wait, you two are actually--"
"Acquaintances with benefits. Nothing serious. Xenophobia and racism limit his options, and I love how he mumbles in Russian. Did you know that he quotes Nabokov during sex?"
"He- he's into-- Y-you... he?"
"I promise you that he's not a pedophile. Lolita is not the only work Nabokov has."
"That doesn't make it better."
"You've read Ada? How scandalous. Is it being alone for so long that lets you have time for lonely reads about a forbidden light in your life; fire in your loins?"
Not wanting to make enemies with the one man who could kill him, Shizuo left his enemy to do what he wanted in Simon's apartment.
citrinae on Chapter 1 Sat 08 Jan 2022 10:40AM UTC
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