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Anyone who would call them a bunch of horny teens wouldn’t be that far off the mark. They did, in fact, participate in enough physical activity to be on par with Raijin high's track team and the rambunctious two practiced just as rigorously; so a hypothetical claim as that one would have legitimate backing. In light of training, their endurance probably needed some work thus the runners had one over them—and Izaya would laugh if Shinra ever called that to attention because he’d say it in earnest, while Shinra would chuckle the same if Izaya gave him that criticism as a way to tease.
But sex wasn’t something they intended to break records of, that would be weird. At the very least they weren’t in competition with other couples. Though they were really just partners. Better off friends with benefits… Rather they were horny teens with few quantifiable benefits of being called friends, but buddies that helped a bro out. So sex buddies that began to set the standard for how many times two could share a romp in the sack without it becoming something else. Without a doubt, Izaya and Shinra would inadvertently break a few records.
One to which was being immediately taken into consideration as something was being tallied with intense scrutiny. Izaya could tell by the hair-raising tickle as a set of eyes were focused on his neck.
Shizuo, of all the idiots on the school rooftop, was the odd one of four who stared at the teen across from him, nonetheless without consent. His brow was set in its common wrinkle, his eyes were glossed and confused, and for how long his dull gaze continued its judgement it would’ve been shocking to learn that his brain hadn’t left on strike. Though Shizuo had enough brain cells to seemingly count, proven by his eyes that darted about.
Izaya frowned, annoyed by the obnoxious way that his observer chewed at his straw, barely attached to its milk carton, and didn’t appreciate being paid long attention by anyone he didn’t warrant and that agitation wasn’t exclusive to the beast. Disgruntled, he was about to bark a request for the action to stop but was intercepted by a poke that drove into a sore spot around his collarbone.
“He's staring at your collection of love bites.” Shinra, who was close at Izaya’s right, tagged subsequent bruises with a chuckle for each that matched the beat; he was satisfied by Izaya’s hisses and swats, and eventually pleased by his recoil and curse under his breath.
The sudden motion knocked Shizuo out of his trance, accentuated by a jolt of his body. While doing so he barely missed hitting a fourth someone that sat slightly out of the boundary of the other three—that someone made himself known with a clear of his throat.
Kadota spoke, "aren't they usually called hickeys?” His attention kept to the words of his folded over novel.
Shinra gained a boyish flush, “they are, but doesn't love make them sound more romantic?" His eyes reflected the stars from his own personal space as he ran through the scenes of his fantasy and rocked back and forth in pleasure; he was an embarrassment.
Given how anti-romantic Izaya was, it was odd that he'd learned to see the glimmer of Shinra's nonexistent stars as if they were real. That made Izaya feel like an embarrassment to himself, if only because he smiled for a moment before he shook it off—also shook his shirt collar to hang open.
Izaya gave no fucks for how much more of the sickly blotches of "love" were put on display. Simply, his nonchalance was an imbalance to how red Shizuo became at the sight, childishly flustered by the mention of love connected to the concept of physical intimacy, advertised like a billboard. And even though he hoarded them, Izaya would certainly pay a fuck-and-a-half to see that abject horror blazoned on Shizuo's face again.
“Don't get the wrong impression, Shizu-chan. If these marks counted for how much love someone had for me, that person would be far too short of devotion to give it to another more appropriate.” He extended his neck to the side and further stretched his collar. Naked skin took on the noon sunlight.
Shizuo's cheeks were singed, "...fuckin' hell…"
Copious pocks of light greens and deep purples painted Izaya an unfortunate canvas, a project completed by a plagiarist art student who failed to understand what tasteful chaos looked like.
“Seriously louse, who the hell would even touch you in the first place...let alone— err... ” he trailed off.
“Have sex with me?” Izaya offered with a lifted brow.
“ Tch, ” Shizuo rubbed at his neck unable to look Izaya in the eye. “Yeah.”
At this, Kadota looked up from his book. The end of his chapter was convenient, but he used the time to glance from Shinra to Izaya—both of whom noticed and regarded the connection made without giving a sign.
“Well one thing's for sure, it's impossible for me to gnaw on myself. So whether or not you can believe it, you poor innocent imbecile, it doesn't matter.” Izaya shrugged and shook his head in jest.
“Disgusting!” Shizuo stabbed a new milk carton with the kinked straw he pulled from his teeth. “Whoever did… that ...has bad taste.”
Shinra was quick to respond—a finger held on high, his demeanour and vocal tone light and perky. “Oh, it's quite the contrary, Shizuo!"
The lot dramatically whipped their attention.
"Izaya's a fine partner in bed. And honestly, with my commendable assessments worth their praise, you should consider that I have good taste… Literally, since I marked him up pretty—attractively—badly. Ahaha."
'Shock' wasn't the best descriptor for what the group, sans the needlessly honest Shinra, felt. ‘Discomfort’ was a better term, more so apt than another cheap word. Still, it wasn't quite enough to describe the awkward tension. Perhaps—a beastly crack of chomped molars plus a duet of exhausted sighs were stronger than words, and a lighthearted, perverted chuckle surely plopped a cherry on top.
“I absolutely didn’t want my suspicions confirmed.” Kadota skipped easing his knees in order to stand quicker and leave promptly.
“Neither did any suspicions need to be confirmed, Shinra,” Izaya mocked irritation—though he was smug.
“Huh? Is there a reason to hide that we’re having sex?” Quizzically, he was amused.
“I'm positive that people know by now. If not—well, they're oblivious lugheads."
Shizuo cracked his knuckles into tight fists, but was too out of sorts to use his punch before Izaya continued his thought.
"Even still, my dear cohort, it didn't necessitate being called out.”
“But it's just sex.”
“Oh, I'm aware it's just sex.”
Izaya picked himself up, naturally held out his hand to Shinra who accepted it with practiced grace. And still, there was that static pleasure when their palms connected, enough to keep them magnetically bonded as they fell into step with one another while they walked towards the roof's exit. A few steps into their gait they unstuck their hands.
“Then it's not worthy of being a secret!" Shinra twisted his lip with played-up petulance.
“Ah, it's more that you don't make things awkward by openly talking about how good I am in bed.” He smirked, proudly, “even if it's true.”
“Oh Izaya, you hardly do the work. I'm the one with the talent of a sex god! You're just a perfect match to my level of master— oof !"
Shinra was shoved out of his reel and toppled forward, almost off his tracks yet only out of balance, as though it were to inspire him to speed up towards the door.
“You scumbags deserve each other, you know that, huh?" Shizuo growled, his presence towered over the two in front more so than his height deserved.
Intimidation ignored, Izaya turned a twin glance with Shinra, each of them over their respective shoulders; he threw some obnoxious sass into his response, with Shinra to follow suit.
"Thanks, mongrel…"
"...but we're not a couple!"
Then, with their teeth bright and complexion warm the insulting duo smiled—their portraits framed nicely together. Clearly, given Shizuo's admonishment and huff-puff, the picture Izaya and Shinra made was worth committing to record.
That’s how they earned their marks and made the books.