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"He exhausts me beyond belief!" A wide sweep of arms released built agitation with staged theatrics.
"I'm going to need that back, Orihara-kun."
Izaya rolled his eyes at the simple disregard of his frustration while his arm thumped against a worn surface.
"He chose this type of relationship, you know. We didn't need to be hostile, but he put it upon himself to--" he halted with dry displeasure, "what now?"
An upbroken smile graced Shinra with innocence. An abandoned classroom became occupied by the doctor and his patient after an out of hand squabble between rivals. Izaya found his expression in mock of him despite Shinra’s continuous sport of it.
"Roll your sleeve up higher for me." He nodded in direction of the jacket in question while his fingers worked a knot into medical wrap on Izaya’s forearm.
"There's no need, Shinra. The brute barely clipped my forearm with that broken off bleacher. I rue the day he throws the whole damned thing at me."
"With the way you work against his anger, that might be tomorrow. How's that working out for you, by the way?"
Shinra applied minimal pressure against the limb hidden by dark fabric. Izaya pinched his eyes and took in a sharp breath.
"If that stupid grin wasn't already painted on that mask of yours I would have sworn I saw a glimmer of satisfaction in your eye. I'm not sure there is currently a market for sadist doctors, but don't let that be a deterrent. You could have a fortunate opportunity ahead-- Fuck! Would you stop that?!"
Izaya pulled against Shinra's unnervingly strong grip.
"Hmm, but it seems like you’re only responding to pain. Oh! Would that make you my first masochistic patient, Orihara-kun?"
The vice upon his bruised skin was pried away with a scowl that dug just as deep as the amateur doctor's fingers. He tossed Shinra's hand to the side.
"Ha! That's a laugh. I prefer my medical provider to have at least some manner at the bedside."
"In a manner of speaking, if you enjoy the pain doesn't that qualify it as good?"
Izaya shrugged to add difficulty to the task Shinra picked up but affect against the removal of his jacket was nonexistent. A downward pull at his collar piled the uniform at his crooked elbows.
"Depends on the doctor and his skill, I suppose." His head tilted to better present a sly grin.
Cold fingertips coursed the length of exposed skin up to a crimson shirt sleeve. Shinra rolled away the fabric with grace in consideration of the welted, discoloured injury. He assessed the damage with a scan of his eyes and softened touch.
"I'm sorry, Orihara-kun." His thumb ran circles over the purple inkblots that swam in the sickly yellow. "Perhaps Shizuo would be more your preference."
Shinra's idle trace of broken arteries elicited a series of pricks to Izaya's senses. He shivered as the discomfort left a numb path in its wake.
"I wouldn't trust Shizu-chan to adhere a bandaid, let alone anything that requires a PHD."
"It is slightly disconcerting," he laughed. "But he could sate your odd fascination with getting injured. You two get along better than I anticipated. Well... In your own twisted way, I suppose."
The weakened beam of Shinra's smile jabbed his core and tore through empathy that others believed non-existent. Izaya knew he had a comrade in Shinra when it came to the obfuscation of their emotions. The fact that he enacted similar techniques was decidedly the only way he was able to recognize Shinra's tells.
"There's more to the reason I fight with Shizu-chan than you would think."
A farce of confident eyes glanced over lowered glasses. "Ah! The girls from 2-B will be tickled pink to hear their awaited pairing could actually come true."
"I'm quite aware of their grating predictions, yes." Izaya strained his frustration through a long sigh. "But that's far from what I meant."
Shinra drew up his brows as the screech of chair legs echoed in the empty room. "Oh?"
Their shortened proximity increased Izaya’s paranoia and tested his ability to remain stoic. He expended his focus to shield the sudden, heavy beat of his pulse from the doctor's notice.
"Yeah." Izaya balked at his body’s instincts to dart his view from Shinra as his glasses found their way back in place to magnify the curious sheen in his stare.
"You sure about that? Seems like you would have started to ramble off a long-winded explanation if you had an argument against it."
"Are you finished?" Izaya snapped.
"Basically." He patted at the intricate weave.
"No, are you finished berating me."
"I knew what you meant."
Izaya scoffed in play while he extended his arm to examine Shinra's craft from various angles. An unbeknownst smile fell across his features as he took in the perfected crisscross of sterile wrap. Over the years he had the honour to witness the nubile trainee nurse his way through an evolution of his skill. Faith of his friend's ability never strayed while he blazed through the path of mistakes to perfection. It was art he wore with pride.
"I don't think Shizu-chan can attest to this, at least not consciously, but the physical pain we take from our fights is to help prevent another hurt all together. Although maybe it's unfair to project human qualities onto the beast, so I might be describing my solo inspiration."
"I don't follow..."
"Technically speaking, I guess I do find specific pleasure in the outcome of my pain." He rubbed at the surface ache that ran deep under the new dressing that covered his arm. Deferred pain spread to his stomach when a light chuckle left Shinra with his hand held to his mouth.
"So, I can expect a future patient out of you when I take up that medical endeavor you suggested? Although, bedside manner isn't appropriate in that case. Maybe bed manner is more correct." His chest puffed at his own clever wordplay.
Izaya's starch skin exemplified the intensity of his flush. "You wanted us to be friends, Shinra.” He tried to ignore the implications of the joke with a skip of direct response.
“I did.”
“It infuriated me that Shizu-chan couldn't keep his end of the bargain. I did what was needed to singlehandedly hold our relationship together, regardless of physical injury."
An uncomfortable pause built Izaya's embarrassment.
Volume of his voiced was halved; its clarity rendered Shinra’s speech almost undeterminable. "You take injuries...for my benefit?"
For once Shinra let a flush of shock take the reins. His jaw hung in awe.
"Think of it as partial payment for Nakura's hack job to disembowel you in place of me." Craze shook his eyes momentarily.
"But you and Shizuo aren't friends. Doesn't that ruin your effort?"
"Ah, well. Destructive rivalry is the best I can muster. Any other attempts would have him completely ignore me." The reality dropped weight in his stomach. “Your disappointment hurts worse, in the end.”
Shinra shot a cursory look before he removed distance between them. The wooden support against Izaya’s back creaked at his weak evade which halted when a cup of warmed palms were added to his cheeks. A crinkle above the bridge of Shinra’s nose aided the raise of his concentration as he narrowed his study of Izaya's facial features.
"...um..."
"Your lip is cut..."
"Is it?" Izaya ran the perimeter of his mouth for a proof of copper.
Shinra nodded. "This might sting a little."
He tugged Izaya down to meet their lips. Izaya released a held moan as Shinra eagerly took command that bruised tender skin. Tension pushed and pulled their lips in disconnected trade. Sharp canines ripped at torn skin and had Izaya gasp for air when Shinra shifted his attack to tend the wound with a precise run of his tongue.
Blunt cornered rims left freckled dents upon Izaya’s cheeks in wake of the nips Shinra scattered along the prominent jawline. The victim made brunet procured and tossed the plastic in random discard with no remorse. His relived annoyance allowed him to rake through chestnut locks and drew Izaya further into heightened senses.
"Izaya, those are expensive..."
"You can charge it to my bill, doctor."
Duplicate smirks melded together to cut the other off from continuation of their snide remarks. The spar of their wits that defined their relationship was replaced by heated argument of clawed removal of fabric obfuscation. Izaya slid through the unbuttoned split of Shinra’s shirt front to dance across a raise of bumps. His hand twitched away when it met the jagged heal of an old scar. The feel of thinly stretched skin tore prior focus away with the uncomfortable memory that attached to it. An unwarranted flash of recollection played out scenes from his worst regret. The hurdle was too steep to clear the triggered shock.
Shinra pressed Izaya’s hesitant touch to splay his fingers across his badge of honour. He massaged reassurance over the peaks of bone as he sighed from the chilled sensation. Tender lay of his lips worked their way up a salty path that formed when Izaya found an ease of his guilt. A coy nuzzle at Shinra’s neck absorbed the benefit of his console which helped release tears without restraint. An accompanied smile added to the mirrored sentiment as he smoothed Izaya’s hair with slow repetition. Arms curled around the heat of Shina’s back and lay within the comfort for a moment to choke back his sobs.
“Take your time.”
A hiccup broke the melody of his cry.
Time escaped their perception and synchronized the tick of a clock of their own creation. Darkened orange blanketed them with solitude while a recovery from the unwarranted spill of emotion quelled.
Shinra grasped the opportunity to run dexterous fingertips over sensitive patches along the curve of Izaya’s hip. A stifled giggle puffed against Shinra’s neck and shook his shoulders. Izaya tried to catch the swift tickle that rose up to attack the gap under his arm, but the unbearable distraction made him fail.
“Shinra, you’re an asshole!” he laughed before he worked against his struggle to find soft lips to with his own.
Resign to Izaya’s victory sent them out of touch with their surroundings which made the blurry trip back to reality a jarred process when heavy footsteps bounced off the corridor walls. Barely a few inches separated them. Their eyes shot open to exchange silent contemplation of the necessity to tidy themselves before the potential arrival of unwanted company. Deep bass pulsed their ear drums as movement seemed unmotivated. Izaya smirked through his shrug while unfazed by the notion of being discovered which had Shinra shake his head in jest.
The threat walked by the partially slid door without falter in cadence but extracted any remains of passionate energy in tow.
Both teens reveled in their flushed excitement from the long-awaited fruition of dual confessions. What they wanted of each other after their neared graduation was tabled to reap innocent joy from their fleeting adolescence.
Shinra's tousled hair managed to look more frazzled than normal. Izaya creased his eyes with internal appreciation of the lack of care. Clarity of Shinra's steel eyes made him wish that his plastic frames broke from the impact they took earlier.
"Since when, Izaya?"
"Let's see..." He tucked away a veil bangs from the other's face. "Probably around the third time you pestered me about that damn club. Your insistence endeared you to me."
His eyelids fell to rest and inspired his default expression to slide a curve across reddened lips. "I have you beat then."
"You think?" parched air was swallowed, "...when?"
A sentimental gaze settled on Izaya. "The moment I took notice of you, really. Don't take yourself for granted, you are clearly unmatched in your unique interest, Izaya."
It took an awful amount of talent to fluster Izaya, but he expected nothing less of Shinra. He teetered from his upright posture and fell into the reconnection of their foreheads.
"I apologise," bandaged fingers twined with those that also searched for contact, "for taking so long."
Shinra shared his nod with Izaya to coerce a simultaneous acceptance of the message.
"Well, isn't a test of my devotion worth more in the end?"