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Kadota was just walking around Ikebukuro, ignoring the sound of Erika and Walker chatting excitedly about their latest manga with the ease of long habit, when his life promptly took a turn for the surreal.
"Ah!" Erika cried, whipping around to face somewhere behind them and to the right. "I was right! It was a boy's love kind of thing after all!"
As one, Kadota, Togusa, and Walker shouted, "No! It's nothing like that at all!" and nearly herniated something with the strength of their denial.
"Oh yeah?" Erika said triumphantly. "Then what do you call that?"
As one, Kadota, Togusa, and Walker craned their heads to look in the direction she was pointing. In the mouth of a small side road, they could see a dark-haired figure in a fur-trimmed coat and a blond-haired man in a bartender's uniform getting intimate against a wall.
"Nothing like that at all!" Kadota repeated frantically. He remembered well his high school days, and the constant property damage that had punctuated them as regularly as a salaryman's timecard. "It's not what you think!"
"I knew it," Erika said dreamily. "It's just like Naruto and Sasuke, ne, ne, Yumacchi? Eternal rivals~"
A horrified silence settled over the group.
"I'm going to clear this up once and for all," Kadota declared. He shouldered his way through the crowd and set off determinedly for where the figures who could not possibly be Shizuo and Izaya making out against a wall in broad daylight were.
"Me too, me too!" Erika said excitedly. "Come on, Yumacchi!"
"W-Wait a minute, I'm coming too!" Togusa ran after them.
"It's not that kind of thing at all," Kadota repeated to himself feverishly, just as Shizuo reached a hand down between his and Izaya's bodies to grab Izaya's crotch.
---
It was a gorgeous day in Ikebukuro, made all the better by the fact that Shizuo had the day off. Given the choice between shaking down idiots with overdue loans and wandering his city soaking in the sights and sounds, Shizuo would've taken the second option any time of day.
He paused in a street to grab a drink from a vending machine. And really, he reflected as he pulled open his can, the best part was it was already mid-afternoon and he hadn't seen any sign of that damn—
"Fancy running into you here, Shizu-chan."
—flea. Shizuo was vaguely aware of the can crumpling in his hand, spilling its contents all over the cuff of his shirt. "I…za…ya…—"
"Oh, don't mind me," Izaya said brightly. "Whoops—" he laughed, neatly side-stepping the can Shizuo had hurled at his head, "—I guess it's too late for that, eh, Shizu-chan?"
Shizuo wasn't listening, he was already heaving the vending machine over his head. Izaya laughed as he dodged that as well, the machine scraping up sparks as it skidded on the asphalt behind him.
"Well, I guess I'll be going then," Izaya said with a little laugh, turning to leave.
"No you don't," Shizuo growled, darting forward. He grabbed Izaya by the hood of that stupid coat, hauling him backwards and off-balance just as Izaya reached back with that flick-blade of his.
He grabbed hold of Izaya's shirtfront just as a terrible idea occurred to him, a way to wipe that stupid smirk off Izaya's face once and for all—and when he was this high on adrenaline, all terrible ideas didn't have time to route their way through his logical thinking centers and therefore seemed like brilliant ones. Before Shizuo even had time for the prospect of second thoughts to occur to him, he'd slammed Izaya against the nearest wall and was kissing him.
Izaya had had a hand around Shizuo's wrist to break his hold, but the moment Shizuo crushed his mouth against Izaya's, his fingers went suddenly slack, all resistance forgotten. Shizuo was distantly aware of the clatter of metal on pavement as Izaya dropped his knife, too busy putting teeth and tongue and his whole body into the kiss. Shizuo was surprised to find Izaya returning the favor, at least once he'd gotten over the shock, but then again—shock was one thing, and letting yourself get one-upped was quite another. It was kind of unfairly hot, to be honest, the way anything with a lot of pent-up passion—good or ill—was. Shizuo had a thigh pressed between Izaya's, their bodies pressed together from chest to hip, and Shizuo thought to himself that of course Izaya was ripped, he did that stupid parkour stuff all the damn time—
("Ah!" Erika cried, whipping around to face somewhere behind them and to the right. "I was right! It was a boy's love kind of thing after all!"
As one, Kadota, Togusa, and Walker shouted, "No! It's nothing like that at all!" and nearly herniated something with the strength of their denial.)
—but this wasn't one of Kasuka's ridiculous films, or rather a doujinshi thereof, so when Shizuo finally broke off the kiss, he growled into Izaya's flushed face, "I still hate you."
Izaya, to Shizuo's immense satisfaction, looked like someone had smashed him over the head with a metaphorical vending machine. He blinked for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. Then he licked his lips and braced his hands on Shizuo's shoulders, an approximation of his usual smile forcing its way onto his face. "You call his hate, Shizu-chan?"
("W-Wait a minute, I'm coming too!" Togusa ran after them.
"It's not that kind of thing at all," Kadota repeated to himself feverishly, just as—)
"Yeah," Shizuo growled, reaching down between them for Izaya's crotch, "I do."
Now Izaya had abandoned any pretense of still knowing what the hell was going on. "W-wait a minute—!" he began, squirming in Shizuo's hold.
"Sorry," Shizuo said, getting a good hold on the back of Izaya's pants, "no can do."
He stepped back in order to get some space between them, heaving Izaya over his head. After running a few steps to build up momentum, Shizuo threw that damn flea with every ounce of strength he had left—which, considering he hadn't had to deal with any of Tom's idiot 'clients' today, meant pretty much all of it. Shizuo took a moment to watch Izaya fly off into the distance and bask in the glory of getting one over that damn flea for once, and then immediately proceeded to scrub his hand frantically on his pants, coughing as if he could get the taste of Izaya out of his mouth through sheer force of will alone.
"Here." There was the crackle of a plastic bag, and someone thrust a bottle of water out at him. Shizuo grabbed it with pathetic gratitude. "You look like you could use it."
"Thanks," Shizuo managed, tearing off the cap. He drained half of it, gargled mightily, spat it out, then drained the other half, gargled that, and spat that out onto the ground as well. "Ugh, I can still taste him, that bastard. Where're my smokes?"
---
"See," Kadota panted as Shizuo lifted Izaya over his head. "I told you it wasn't that kind of thing at all!"
"Thank god," Togusa muttered.
(After running a few steps to build up momentum, Shizuo threw that damn flea with every ounce of strength he had left—which, considering he hadn't had to deal with any of Tom's idiot 'clients' today, meant pretty much all of it.)
Erika and Walker tracked Izaya's trajectory through the air. As one, they pointed into the distance where he'd winked out of sight in the summer sky and shouted in gleeful unison, "Blasting off again!"
"Here." Kadota fished in the plastic bag he still held, pulling out a bottle of water and handing it to Shizuo, who was currently doubled over and coughing frantically while scrubbing his right hand on his pants. "You look like you could use it."
"Thanks," Shizuo managed, tearing off the cap. He drained half of it, gargled mightily, spat it out, then drained the other half, gargled that, and spat that out onto the ground as well. "Ugh, I can still taste him, that bastard. Where're my smokes?"
---
A short while later, a very important meeting of very important businessmen was very rudely interrupted when one Orihara Izaya flew through the window of their thirtieth floor conference room.
"Tch," Izaya said, pulling himself upright. He dusted off his clothes and walked out of the room without further preamble. "This is why I hate you, Shizu-chan."