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“Don’t die,” Shizuo whispers softly. The night is as still and cold as his lover, draped limply over Shizuo’s thighs and in his arms, barely breathing. “Please…”
“This is your fault,” Izaya reminds him weakly, coughing out a laugh past bloodstained lips. “You monster.” This is said with a devastating finality, Izaya landing his final blow as he lets go of this world with assurance that his enemy will never recover.
“I’m sorr-!” Shizuo choked over his own apology, inhaling too quick and too shaky as he watched the light fade from Izaya’s eyes. Crimson red faded to dull, dried bloodstains, and Izaya’s chest stopped it’s gentle rise and fall, giving into the bitter stillness of death.
“No,” Shizuo gasped, crushing the body of his biggest regret to his chest. Bones strained and snapped under the force of his grief, though the blond took no notice. He was too deep in mourning, too lost to the agony exploding deep inside him, filling him to the brim like a volcano ready to explode.
“Don’t leave me,” He begged, holding Izaya’s body impossibly tighter, praying for an answer-any answer, really. “Please, please, please ‘zaya, don’t leave me all alone.” He listened for a response, his mind playing tricks on him with phantom murmurs in his ears, though he could tell it was just his own imagination.
And alas, no reply ever did come from the crushed body pressed tightly to his chest. Shizuo sat there in the rain, sobbing broken pleas into slick wet hair. He could feel himself growing numb from the inside out as he cried, thinking distantly that Izaya must have taken Shizuo’s heart with him in death…
Because no longer did the pumping of the useless muscle in his chest mean anything to Shizuo anymore.
“Pfft…! Ahaha!” Izaya spun around in his chair, overly delighted with himself.
“What’s wrong with you now?” Namie asks sourly, fed up with her boss’s annoying behaviour. He’d been giggling to himself all morning as he typed at his desk, wearing his most sadistic grin. Honestly, he was giving her a headache.
“It’s brilliant!” He exclaims loudly, standing up to spread his arms wide. “I’m a genius, an absolute genius!”
“Oh, God, what did you do this time?” Namie sighs, rubbing her temples and hoping to relieve some of the tension there.
“Oh, I dunno…” He strolled around his desk and over to her, an exuberant skip in his step. “Just my latest masterpiece, maybe?” She spotted slight circles under his eyes, telling her right away that whatever he thought was so brilliant, this so called masterpiece, had taken awhile.
He was clearly waiting for her to bite, waiting for her to inquire what this new masterpiece could possibly be. Pride and ego bled from his frame with no restraint, his head high and hands on his hips as if to say “Look how amazing I am!” Clearly this new scheme was very important to Izaya.
So, obviously, she turned back to her computer and ignored him.
“Awww,” He cooed, coming close to wrap his arms around her shoulders and press part of his weight down onto her. “Namie-chan, you’re sooooo meeaaann~!” He whined childishly.
“Get. Off. Me.” She spat, trembling faintly from the strain of only half his weight on her shoulders. That, or the anger. She couldn’t tell. Maybe it was both.
“Ask about my masterpiece.”
“Get off!”
“Ask about my masterpiece.”
“Get off of me right now before I castrate you!”
“Ask about my masterpiece.”
“Get- oh, goddamnit, fine!” She snarled, pissed at the feel of his shoulders shaking in quiet laughter against her own terribly stiff ones. “Fine! What’s your masterpiece?”
“Go to the site called Ao3,” Izaya instructs, lifting to remove his weight off his annoyed secretary. She huffs but does as told, glaring at the screen as she types.
“Okay. Now what?”
“Now go to that search bar and type in Psyche-kun.” That’s Izaya’s username. He had been going to use Kanra-Chan, thinking it fit her persona and would be a semi credible source to those he wanted to trick, but in the end he’d decided it was a little too obvious.
Plus, some asshole had already taken it.
“Okay. This is...oh my god,” Namie actually gasped. “Fanfiction? Of you and Heiwajima Shizuo?”
“Correct. And, this particular author,” he coos, reaching over her shoulder to tap the screen playfully, “is yours truly.” He observes her expression in the computers reflection, one of disbelief and slight disgust.
“I knew it, I knew you were gay for him,” Namie can’t help but blurt, wincing when she hears Izaya’s teeth grind a little.
“No,” he says stiffly, moving away from her a little. She spins in her chair to look at him, amused and nervous all at once. “I do not have any…feelings, for that beast. This is merely another way of playing with my humans.”
“Writing over 35,000 words of smut and romance between you and the man you claim to hate is, to you, a worthwhile way of ‘messing’ with people?”
“The monster I do hate,” Izaya corrects her happily, strolling back to his desk. “And yes, yes it is.” Really, these girls (and the occasional guy) get so worked up over stories, and it’s so fun to promise happiness then deliver tragedy.
“...You...You just have so many issues,” Namie sighs, almost playfully, turning back to her work with a shake of her head.
“Heh, you should see the things Shizu-chan writes.”
“...Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Izaya slowly smirks, already refreshing the page obsessively, waiting for comments.
“You’re kidding,” Namie shakes her head once again, though he can see doubt clearly lingers.“There’s just no way…”
“His username is Tsugaru-San, if you’re curious.” Izaya perked up, when the comments of heartbroken fans started to appear on his latest finished work. “He writes sappy, feel good crap.”
“No!” Naime protests, finding Shizuo’s supposed page. “Why would he? Where’s your proo-whoa!” She barely managed to catch the object thrown at her. Inspecting it, she finds a slightly cracked and battered phone.
“Turn it on, I keep it charged and the idiot didn’t set a password.” She does, watching it light up. Swiping the screen, the first page that opens is... Shizuo’s facebook page. There was another tab open, too, to Archive Of Our Own. She selects it, nervously.
“Oh my god…”
“Yup! It’s Shizuo’s phone. He lost it a few months ago.” Something about the way he laughs makes Namie think that Shizuo hadn’t lost his phone it all, but rather had it stolen. “He was still logged onto that Fanfiction site. Can you believe it? That beast, writing cheesy, sappy fanfiction of me and him! Ha! Hahaha!”
“Is that what got you started?” Namie inquires slyly, suggestion clear in her crisp tone, and she’s lucky to catch Izaya’s pout before he hides it with a typical smirk.
“Well, I couldn’t possibly allow the brute shine, now could I? Besides,” He smiles, resting his cheek against his palm casually. “Isn’t it funny how much better I am? Heh, go read his story First Date. It’s my favorite.”
Sensing he wouldn’t let this go, Namie finds the story and begins to skim through it, reading bits and pieces that stands out to her.
“Just go out with me, Izaya-kun! You lost the bet fair and square!”
“Tch, fine! Stupid Shizu-chan…” Izaya mumbled, and he could see his cheeks were faintly pink as he said this. “But you’d better take me somewhere nice.”
Oh, oh wow.
“This is kind of fun. Faster!” Izaya admitted, laughing as Shizuo turned the wheel faster. Heh, he knew going to an amusement park was a good idea. Of course Izaya would pick the teacups.
Well, Namie could see that.
“I hate sweet things,” Izaya protested, as he was dragged towards the new bakery on their next stop. They’d been kicked out of the amusement park when Shizuo had destroyed a game because they didn’t give him the prize Izaya had wanted.
To be fair, the games were rigged.
“They have gourmet coffee,” Shizuo said, grinning when the flea perked up right away.
...this is scary. That bakery actually exists, and opened around the time this story had been published...
“Fle-Uh, Izaya-kun. I wanted to do this today, because I wanted to tell you...I lo-” He’s cut off when Izaya lunges forward to kiss him, soft and sweet like Shizuo always imagined.
“I love you too, Shizu-chan.”
END
“Oh my god,” She let her head hit the table, fairly sure she’s actually blushing from secondhand embarrassment. “Oh, he has it so bad...”
“Hmm?” Izaya barely glances at her, too busy typing away. “Has what bad?”
“You know, how he’s so in love with you. Although I’ve absolutely no idea why,” She sighs, lifting her and going to Shizuo’s homepage. “It’s kind of sad, really. I feel bad for him.”
“...Shizu-chan isn’t in love with me,” Izaya denies, albeit shakily.
“Um, you said you read the story. It’s pretty obvious.”
“No, no, you’re wrong, you’re wrong!” Izaya laughs. He spins in his chair a few times, a sorry attempt to relax with a very a forced smirk. “He just does it for fun, ne? Fun!”
“Yeah? Then why is this fic called ‘The Flea I Love’ huh? And this one, ‘Making Izaya-kun Mine.’ I mean, come on.” She’s the one smirking now, and it feels to have the upperhand for once. “‘Please Be My Flea,’” she teases, with possibly the most embarrassing one of the bunch.
“Ooh he’s just...caught up with the pretty little fantasy. Like all these online fans. In reality he hates me,” Izaya laughs again, finally having stopped spinning. His chair is turned away, so Namie is unable to see his face as he says this.
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” Izaya insists. “He just likes attention he gets from his little cult following. Although some of them aren’t real fans.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for example, that one user, SaneDogKing96, he comments on nearly everyone’s story. Including mine.”
“And that makes him less of a fan….how?”
“...shut up. It just does. And Khosha! Always reading his stories…” Izaya pouts.
“Are you jealous?” She laughs, wishing she could see the no doubt hilarious look on his face.
“...no. My stories are way more popular.” He says, huffing a little. “Plus, it’s pathetic, he’s obsessed with authors way better than him, like Dywt! And yet he doesn’t read mine. Tch, annoying, unpredictable beast.”
“So you’re saying you don’t like him having any fans?” She hedges, feeling a smile coming on.
“Yes.”
“Because you’re clearly better.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re a gigantic baby.”
“Ye-no! Shut up.” He turns around finally, if only to glare at he. His childish nature is enough to make her hate him a little less, and even, if just for today, feel some amount of fondness. If he weren’t so awful, she’d have liked to be his friend...
“Whatever. I just don’t see why you can’t handle the idea of Heiwajima-san being in love with you,” she mutters, scrolling through his stories, to the newest ones. “I mean, so many stories, and they’re all so sweet and sappy. If anything, I think you’re flattered by the attention but just don’t want to admit it.”
“Oh that is far, far from being true!” Izaya exclaims. “How preposterous! It’s such a silly notion, really…”
“...uh oh,” Namie mutters, ignoring him for her new find. Izaya’s expression goes serious all at once, shoulders and spine straightening at the prospect of trouble. It’s easy to forget, but he can be quite serious when he wants to be.
“What?”
“Mm, looks like you’ve lost your admirer. Take a look at what he just posted.” Izaya frowns, turning back to his computer and clicking to Shizuo’s page. He has it bookmarked, actually.
“‘What Can Never Be…’” he reads aloud, clicking on it. “What in the…”
“Haha! You think I could ever love a monster like you?” Izaya crows, smirking down at Shizuo, on his knees in the pouring rain.
No way…
The city lights shone behind him, illuminating the light fur of his hood, making it look almost like a halo. The black of his coat made him look like a fallen angel.
“Quit looking at me like that,” Izaya said coldly. “You’re disgusting.”
What the hell?
“I’m sorry, about trying to hit you when we first met,” He tries weakly, chest constricted on heartbreak. He still hasn’t moved from the wet ground. “I really do love you-”
“Die.” Izaya says calmly.
“I-”
“Die.” Izaya repeats, turning and walking away.
Yeah. Maybe he should.
END.
“Well that’s...different.” Izaya can’t help the way his eyebrows pull down, unsettled by the depressing new addition to Shizuo’s collection. That blond always writes such fluff…
“Hmm, too bad,” Namie snickers, back at work now. “No one loves you again.”
“You’re a terrible person,” He snaps, unable to hide the edge in his voice.
“Look who’s talking!”
From there, it only gets worse. Sadder and sadder stories are posted, all about rejections and heartbreak. Sometimes Izaya has some perfect girl, and other times he has no one and simply doesn’t want Shizuo. Either way, it usually ends with rainclouds and pain.
He tries not to let it get to him, but the titles haunt him, along with the gloomy tone of Shizuo’s words.
A Pain So Great
“I hope you die!” Izaya spat, rubbing furiously at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t ever touch me, ever again! Don’t even look at me!”
He didn’t think that would be a problem.
Izaya wasn’t that mean! Well, okay, he could be, but he wouldn't. He actually sort of liked Shizuo’s infatuation. Just a little bit.
No Love
“A...date?” Izaya chuckled, red eyes gleaming. For a moment, he felt the hope swell in his chest. “A proper, romantic date?”
“Yeah, kinda…”
“Well I do hope this date wouldn’t be with YOU,” Izaya joked, smirking wider when he saw him visibly deflate. “Oh dear Shizu-chan, really now? Oh that’s so sad…”
Izaya came closer, leaning into Shizuo’s personal space with that damned smirk. He stretched to reach and whisper in his ear, soft lips brushing it just barely, just teasing. “Why should I waste my time on a monster?”
Oh please, Shizu-chan didn’t waste his time! He had fun letting the idiot chase him. And he read his stories, didn’t he? Well, Shizuo didn’t know that, but still…
Only Room For Two
She was beautiful, with flawless dark skin and expressive brown eyes warmer than the sun. She smiled at him with sympathy, like she could see the way he looked at Izaya. And like she didn’t plan to give the flea up, either.
He didn’t blame her.
Psshh. Idiot. Shizu-chan is stupid, as if Izaya would choose some random girl over...ahh fuck. Forget that train of thought.
...at the very least, they could have an interesting threesome.
Never Good Enough
The gift, a little ceramic cat with red eyes like Izaya’s, was thrown to the ground. It shattered at his feet, much like his heart did in that moment.
“Don’t even joke like that.” Izaya glared at him, angry and embarrassed. “That’s disgusting-YOU’RE disgusting.”
Finally, when Izaya just couldn’t take it anymore, he headed to Ikebukuro. He was lucky, finding Shizuo just as he was saying goodbye to Tom and Vorona.
“Hey there, Shizu-chan,” Izaya calls, frowning a little at how Shizuo had walked right past him without noticing. He was leaning against the wall of some alley, in plain sight, too. Shizuo’s head snaps up, a weak glare aimed at him when the blond turns around just a little too slowly.
“Shit- you just can’t give me a fucking break, can you?” He snaps, fists balled at his sides and scowl deep. But Izaya sees it. His shoulders have lost a considerable amount of the tension he’d carried before, relaxing rught away at the sight of Izaya. Shizuo is relieved.
“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Shizu-chan.” Izaya grins a little, tilting his head coyly. “What do you call that?”
“Just shut up, Izaya-kun,” Shizuo seethes, mouth curling on an angry, vicious grin. “Get out of ‘Bukuro, or I’ll kill you till you’re dead!” It’s amusing, really, just how happy the brute is to see him. Izaya thinks he should reward him.
“Why don’t we try something else?” He smirks, pushing off the wall and sauntering forward. Shizuo hesitates, thick fingers twitching like he’d love nothing more than to strangle him.
Or grab his ass. Izaya isn’t sure which he’d prefer Shizuo to try, at this point. Truly, the adrenaline achieved from this thought sings in his veins so satisfyingly that he never wants it to end.
“Yeah? Like what?” Shizuo hedges, caught between the suggestion and his own excited fury. “Wanna switch it up and take the first swing, flea?”
“Mm, that’s cute,” He chuckles, stepping swiftly into Shizuo’s space and smirking up at him. “No, I was thinking like we make a bet. What do you say, Shizu-chan~?”
“...a bet.” From this close, Izaya can see the very faint flush that rolls over his skin, the way his breathing kicks up a notch, and the flash of his eyes, surely remembering his most famous “shizaya” story. That had started with a bet, after all.
“Mm, I can’t think of anything good, though,” Izaya has finger to his lips, grinning mischievously up at his favorite blonde goon. “Can you think of anything?” He makes puppy eyes at Shizuo imploringly.
“We…we could race,” Shizuo suggests, rubbing the back of his neck with an uneven expression of nerves and excitement.
“That’s it!” Izaya snaps his fingers suddenly, and winds up a little disappointed when Shizuo doesn’t finch. “That’s a great idea. Loser does whatever the winner says?” Shizuo nods, eyes a little too wide, excited and disbelieving. Izaya really wishes he could laugh right now.
“How about from here to the big fountain in Central park? Any and all routes allowed.” Shizuo nods again, impatiently, and Izaya grabs the arm of a random passerby. He looks startled, paling when he sees the two men before him.
“Kindly do us a favor?” Izaya asks sweetly, and the man nods like his life depends on it. “Countdown from five for us, okay?” He nods again, so hard his sunglasses go flying off somewhere. Izaya laughs.
“F-five!” The man gasps out, and Izaya takes his position.
“Four!” Shizuo does the same, bending his knees low to the ground with such a determined look that it makes Izaya’s heart do something gross in his chest.
“Th-three!” Mentally, Izaya maps out his path and plan.
“Two!” Shizuo is already breathing hard, reaching up absentmindedly to tuck his shades in his vest pocket.
“One! Go?!” They take off, Izaya bolting in the opposite direction as Shizuo. He cuts down a chosen series of alleys, essentially making a beeline for the park with only a few short turns. His feet pound against the pavement, an exhilarating rhythm to accompany the beat of his racing heart. He emerges from the shadowed alleyways in just under two minutes, into the park, and swings himself up into a tree without missing a beat. He climbs high, into the blooms and somewhat hidden from view.
He stays alert, counting down in his head. The fountain is only a few feet away from where he’s perched, beautifully kept and unfrozen for the first time in weeks. It’s a surprisingly warm day, for late March, and he relishes the heat.
Shizuo emerges a ways away exactly 38 seconds later, panting and reaching out to tag the fountain like his whole life depends on it. Maybe it does, in a way. ‘Aww, how sweet,’ Izaya thinks, not as sarcastically as he intends. He drops down from the tree when Shizuo isn’t looking, jogging over with a fake pout.
“Aah, looks like you beat me,” He sighs, watching Shizuo whip around and smile with such delight that Izaya can’t help the way his own lips twitch in response. “Well, Mr. Winner, what’s you demand?”
“Um… that’s, that’s, um…” Shizuo huffs, going red and glaring at the ground.
“Yes?”
“Y-you...a date. Go with me. Somewhere…on a date,” He hisses through clenched teeth. “But not cause I like you, or anything… Just-don’t ask why! You just have to, okay?”
Oh, dear, was the poor man really 5 years old?
“Hm, alright, then.” Izaya saunters closer, taking Shizuo’s hand with a snicker, just to see him blush. He’s secretly relieved when his fingers aren’t broken on the spot.
“But you’d better take me somewhere nice.”