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“No matter how many times you keep asking, I’m still going to say no,” and Shizuo wondered whether the latter’s seemingly non-existent shame from being rejected countless times was an inherited trait, or some sort of acquired one.
Unfortunately for him, Izaya Orihara merely stood with a smile behind the counter and picked up a large takeaway cup as though this was the reaction he’d been expecting all along. Shizuo supposed that maybe it was, seeing as he’d been rejecting any and all advancements Izaya has made towards him in the past almost three months that he’s worked there. They stood there glaring for at least another ten seconds.
Eventually, Izaya’s eyes lowered just long enough for him to pick up a marker and began writing Shizuo’s name on it. Shizuo felt his eye twitch as petite hands guided the pen across the matte surface with a type of precision and grace that reminded him of the time Shinra had demonstrated the scalpel-wielding skills he learnt in practicals on a piece of animal tissue. Only instead of leaving a trail of red and blood behind, the only thing that stained it was the ink - sharp, square turns and a final inflection to finish off the beginnings of Shizuo’s first name, only to give way to small characters and taunting curves that only someone like Izaya would have the guts to do. Especially to someone like a not-yet-caffeinated Shizuo at eight in the morning.
“Keep your eyes at my face, not my hands, Shizu-chan. Don’t want you getting any ideas after all,” Izaya said without skipping a beat, and Shizuo startled.
His eyes immediately drew away to avoid anything other than Izaya’s hands, of all things, and even more so avoided what exactly Izaya had been trying to imply when he’d said what he did. His face felt warm and he half heartedly readjusted the laptop bag on his shoulders. It was too early for him to even pretend to be nonchalant, and he had half a mind to suspect that Izaya intentionally changed his shifts to match with Shizuo’s schedule. Surely the choice to work this early in the morning was a strategic one, made to take advantage of Shizuo’s vulnerable, morning grogginess to catch him off guard, because if not, then Izaya truly was a sadist.
Looking up with a punchable, yet innocent expression, Izaya said, with an overly polite voice, “450 yen, thank you!”
It was the same price each time, and yet Shizuo always felt that Izaya somehow managed to charge him more than what it was worth just to see if he would notice. He wondered if there was any point in pointing it out. If worse comes to worse and he finds himself one day unable to pay his university fees, he could always just come here to beat Izaya up just to make him feel better. Yeah, maybe he should say something… One of these days.
“I really do hate you,” Shizuo sighed instead, reaching into his pocket to get his wallet and avoiding eye contact with both Izaya’s stupidly pretty customer service smile, as well as the mocking coffee cup that sported an unnecessary “-chan” at the end of his name.
Izaya gave him his change back, with an overdramatic bow no less, and began operating the coffee machine next to him.
“So about what I was saying earlier-” Izaya started, replacing his customer service voice with his usual taunting tone, and Shizuo knew Izaya wouldn’t let it go that easily.
“Shut up,” Shizuo said, angry, tired, and framed in the shape of a threat. Not that it deterred him in the slightest.
“You should come over to my place some time,” Izaya said, as if Shizuo didn’t say anything at all. Then, “Or at the very least, let me give you my phone number.”
“How many times did you need me to say ‘no’ before you get it through your stupid head?” Shizuo couldn’t help but snap - better his words than snapping a chunk out of the counter (again) he supposed. “Besides, it’s not like you can’t find anyone else to sleep with! You see, like, a hundred different people every other day here, and you’re-” Shizuo hesitated, and Izaya’s grin widened with each word, “you’re not… unattractive or anything.”
“That’s very sweet of you, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said. He looked as if he was considering something. “You know, I can tell that you like me too. Or, at least, enough to want to at least go out for lunch with me one day, so tell me-” Izaya flipped open the cap to a carton of milk, and began pouring it into a small metallic jug, “What is it about you that’s stopping this from happening?”
He pushed the thermometer towards himself so that he could start heating up the milk, letting the machine whirl it into what Shizuo knew to be a soapy-looking froth. It didn’t actually taste like soap, (to be honest, it wasn’t like Shizuo would put it past Izaya to pull a prank like that one day) and more like some pillowy cloud that someone threw into a cotton-candy machine, but Shizuo’s always had a hard time associating Izaya with anything other than a bitter taste in his mouth. Like dark chocolate, probably, the kind that Shizuo hates, but it would be a lie if he didn’t admit that he’s thought about what it would taste like if he tasted it directly from Izaya’s mouth.
Shizuo internally filed the thought away. He could sort through those unwanted thoughts later when the handsomely annoying barista gives him his stupid coffee. When he’s more awake, locked up in a lab and needs a distraction from his rage-inducing thesis that won’t write itself no matter how many furniture and lab equipment he throws at it; his coffee cup with the stupid nickname written on it long crumpled up and discarded in the bin on the lobby floor because he’s not allowed to bring it into the room with him. He’ll think about Izaya then, like he does most days of the week (even when he doesn’t go to the cafe), and then he’ll shake his head and force himself back to reality because at this stage, he just doesn’t have time for a relationship.
“Nothing,” Shizuo said instead, because it’s really none of Izaya’s business. “I should be asking you that. Why do you keep annoying me about it? For all you know, all I do is drink coffee and say bad words. What if I turned out to be some crazy stalker that’s manipulating you into loving me or something?” Izaya scoffed at that and Shizuo continued, “What if I’m already taken?”
Izaya really laughed at that. A sound that grated Shizuo’s ears like a knife to a chalkboard. Yet, he wondered what it would sound like without the extra falsified edge to it.
“Well, let’s just say you’re interesting,” Izaya said, amusement still in his voice as he poured the completed milk foam into the cup. “And for the record, if you really were taken, then I would gladly back off, but the fact that you told me ‘no’ and not ‘I’m taken’ kind of solidified the fact that you’re not, and that you’re just being stubborn, Shizu-chan.”
Shizuo gave him a hard glare even as Izaya finally put the lid on and held the finished coffee towards him in a daring manner.
“You know, this still doesn’t change my answer,” Shizuo said, reaching out to take it and finally be on his way.
In hindsight, he really should’ve expected it, because the moment his hand grasped the cup, just above Izaya’s, the latter reached out with his other hand to grab at Shizuo’s collar to pull him towards him and into a kiss.
It happened really fast, and despite being caught off guard, Shizuo managed to realise three things: One, Izaya didn’t taste as bitter as he thought he’d taste. Though to be fair, it wasn’t like the taste of Izaya could possibly surpass the utter shock he’d felt when it happened; Two, that Izaya was a horribly inexperienced kisser, which Shizuo didn’t expect given how ‘smooth’ he’d been portraying himself as all this time. Really, it was more of just their lips touching for anything less than half a minute than a genuine kiss meant to swoon him into saying yes, and; Three, that Shizuo was going to have a really, really hard time trying to focus on his lab work today.
Absentmindedly, he felt Izaya let go of his shirt, and somehow Shizuo found that he was still holding his coffee (though the sides of the cup did begin to cave into itself) when Izaya fully pulled away. Shizuo did feel some parts of his face warm up slightly but it was nothing compared to how shy and flustered Izaya looked all of a sudden, and it was admittedly cute watching him still try to keep up this image of some self-assured cool guy that definitely knows what he’s doing.
“Well, you better get to class, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, a touch softer than his usual mocking tone, face red and eyes wild. “And call me, would you?”
Shizuo nodded dumbly, not really processing the words until he’d walked out of the coffee shop and was halfway through to campus, words finally clicking in his mind and he looked down at the cup in his hands.
‘ Shizu-chan <3 Call me, 080-XXXX-XXXX ’