Work Text:
Words unspoken are the only words I know are true
Izaya is rounding the corner of Shizuo's block, carrier bags filled with ice cream and watermelon and bottles of peach scented hair conditioner in his hands, when he hears his own name spoken in a voice he doesn't recognize at first.
"Why won't you give it a try? Because of Izaya?"
"I'm just not interested. That should suffice."
"But why? Don't tell me you've decided girls don't do it for you anymore. Which is fine by me, if that's the case. You know I don't care about that."
"I like girls just fine," Shizuo says, a bit weary.
"Yeah? Good for you. Girls are great, what's not to like. Then you'll definitely like Sumire, she's really cute. Here, I got more pics from when we went canoeing with her brothers and aunt Tokiko."
"I know what she looks like, Tom. We've met." After all, Shizuo must have taken a look, as they remain silent a minute.
"She looks nice," Shizuo agrees. "Who took the pictures?"
"These? Me, why?"
"You sure you want to set us up? Looks like you're into her yourself."
"Don't say stupid things, Shizuo. She's my cousin."
"I'm not judging."
"And she really likes you."
"That, I'm judging a little bit." There's an audible exhale and Izaya can sense smoke even from meters away where he stands behind the wall. "I thought you said she was a sensible girl."
"She is!" Tom persists. "She's also romantic. Sumire is the kind of girl who falls for guys that seem wrong for her but somehow aren't. She's serious and devoted in her relationships."
"Sounds like a treasure."
There's a heavy frustrated sigh coming from Tom. "Why are you being like this? Seriously, you can just meet up once and if it doesn't click, where's the harm in that. It's not like Izaya would mind-" he pauses. "Shizuo, get real. If you're still deluding yourself into thinking that this is going anywhere, stop. It's been what, a year and a half?"
"Two years."
"Great! Two years." Tom mocks. "You would think that's enough time to ask someone out on a proper date, even just out of sheer boredom."
Shizuo doesn't say anything to that and Izaya feels queasy.
"Or I don't know, talk about future? What either of you want out of this. Are you planning to live in that crappy one-room apartment alone for the rest of your life? No family, no kids? Is this really what you want from life? You're wasting your best years on someone who takes you completely for granted."
"Well, they're my years to do as I please with them."
"I know that!" Tom sounds helpless rather than angry. "I know. I just worry, okay. We've been friends for a long time. You're not cut out for causal relationships, Shizuo. A few times-thing, sure, a few months, that can be fun. But years? Shizuo. You have to know that's not right."
"I know that you worry," Shizuo tells him. "But frankly, that's not my problem."
There's shuffling of feet followed by the clatter of key turned in the lock in the entrance gate.
A ping of an incoming message.
"I've sent you her number. 's all I can do. You really should give her a call. Izaya wouldn't mind. And if he does, well, good. Maybe that'd be the starting point for you talking like adults."
"You don't get it," Shizuo says as the door opens with a screech. "Izaya might be okay with that, or he might not be. I'm not interested."
"That can change after a date."
"See you tomorrow, Tom."
A few moments after Shizuo has disappeared in the stairwell, Tom starts off back home. He very nearly bumps into someone round the corner.
"Izaya!' He says, startled.
Izaya cuts him a lopsided smirk. "Tom-san."
"Well, hello," Tom says awkwardly. "Didn't expect you here."
Obviously.
"Hello," Izaya says. "I would invite you in but," He fishes the key out of his pocket. "It's not my place."
"That's alright, I was just leaving."
"Sure, sure." Izaya nods and Tom brushes past him like Izaya's contagious.
"Oh," Izaya calls after him, turning back like he'd just remembered something. "I'm sorry about your mother. I was sad to hear her health has deteriorated."
"What?"
"The hospital stuff speak so highly about her. She must be truly exceptional. I love all humans but it's always sad to see good people go."
"What," Tom gritted through clenched teeth. "Are you talking about?"
"You didn't know." Izaya blinked owlishly. "Of course you didn't. What son would be loitering about blocks playing Cupid to his employees when his mother was dying. I suppose she didn't want to worry you. That would have put quite a damper on your lovely holiday with Sumire-san and her brothers. And aunt Tokiko."
"You're sick." Tom pales. He tries to collect himself. "And you're lying. You just want to get back at me. How would you know anything about my mother's condition, that's absurd."
"SLA is a rare condition, especially in women. It's bound to get attention and loose lips. And it is my job to know things."
Izaya doesn't have a first clue about the woman's health aside from what Shizuo mentioned in passing after work.
"How dare you." Tom is shaking with anger, his hands balling into fists.
"You're angry," Izaya speaks, bemused. "Why? I only told the truth. Isn't it better to call it as I see it? This way, you can make better use of the time you still have." He smiles. "I would hate to see you waste your time on the wrong people, Tom-san."
Someone is walking out the entrance gate and Izaya holds the door to let himself in.
"You're angry still." He observes. "I'm sorry to be leaving things unresolved. But I struggle to see where I've overstepped?" He points a finger at Tom and clicks his tongue. "Right, I get it! I was sticking my nose where it doesn't belong, wasn't I? My bad. I keep forgetting not to do that. Work habit, i guess."
Izaya disappears behind the heavy door that close with a very final sounding clink. He does not expect to see Tom around much anytime soon.
"You're shaking." Shizuo stops mid shuffling the deck of cards to cover Izaya's hand with his own. Izaya is sitting on the table enjoying his raspberry sorbet, having shared milk ice cream with Shizuo. He enjoys hopping on top of furniture like a monkey even if it stopped triggering Shizuo's anger long ago.
His hands aren't even trembling all that much. Shizuo can be very perceptive when it's inconvenient.
"It's nothing. Don't worry about it." He digs into his sorbet, urging Shizuo to resume the hand porn, which is how Izaya dubbed his stunt shuffling moves.
Shizuo frowns. "You know you can tell me if something's eating you up, right?" He speaks to the cards, a bit muffled.
"Why the hell would I do that?" Izaya bristles, cringing inwardly at the thought of burdening Shizuo with questions about whether or not he perceives his love life insufficient and lacking.
Shizuo raises an eyebrow but fortunately, he doesn't seem to take it the wrong way, looking amused rather than irritated.
"Your beloved humans do it all the time. I hear it's good for you." He splits the deck to perform an elegant riffle shuffle that has Izaya half hypnotized.
So much so that after a while of this extensive, smooth flowing dance of cards Izaya catches on that this is less for practice and more his own benefit this time. Shizuo's usual energetic party trick moves gave way to something broader and more relaxed. Fluent. It's soothing to watch - it's meant to be - and it's working.
Izaya's gaze snaps to Shizuo's eyes that watch him attentively with that disarming spark of warmth, and he knows he called it right.
"You're going to be a little too good at this job if you can put clients in whatever mindset you like before the game begins."
Shizuo's lips twitch up at one corner but all he does is carry on in his ministrations without a hitch.
"You're very tight-lipped for an informant."
"Wouldn't be much of a paying job if I ran my mouth for the hell of it." Izaya shrugs.
Shizuo spreads the cards in an elegant arch on the table.
"Shall we play for your secrets then?"
Izaya snorts. "No." He reaches to rummage in his carrier bag instead. After a moment, he produces two bottles of Shizuo's favorite hair conditioner that went out of stock. "I had something else in mind."
"No way. There's just no way, I've been looking all over Tokyo. Where'd you find it?" Shizuo makes a move to grab the bottles but Izaya bats his hands off.
"Perks of working with the mafia. Once the merchandize goes out of official circulation, it's bound to find its way to the black market."
Izaya had spent hours going through obscure internet message boards dedicated to men's cosmetics and care products.
"Alright! You can keep your dirty secrets, we're playing for these." Shizuo decides at once.
Izaya smirks, but its genuinely fond.
"I like how you stick with your principals," he says. Then, "Alright. What will you bet?"
Shizuo does look a bit stumped at this. He already knows Izaya won't play for money, and whenever Shizuo offered helping him out with chores, Izaya countered that he could take care of his own work just fine, while this was for fun.
Izaya hums, giving Shizuo a thorough once over. "I can think of a few things I would have you do," he muses. "But all of them you'll be up for willingly, so I'd rather come up with something I won't get from you otherwise."
Shizuo taps his fingers against the table-top aggressively, which is about as much indication of him feeling uneasy as he gives off indoors these days.
"You'll let me take you shopping, and we're going to buy new clothes for you that appeal to my aesthetics."
Shizuo snorts. "Like hell we are. Dream on, flea."
"You will be required to wear them at least once a week for a year."
"No."
"In public."
"It's not for you to decide what I do with my body."
Well, he does have a point. Still,
"Oh, and it's okay for your brother to decide? You parading around in that bug-ugly outfit is a personal insult to myself, not just my good taste. At least if I were to pick clothes for you, you would look hot wearing them and not like-"
"Like I lost a bet?"
"Like someone was mocking you!" Izaya crosses his arms over his chest. "That's my fucking job."
He hasn't even noticed this genuinely bothered him until now but apparently, it does.
"I can't believe where your mind goes sometimes," Shizuo says on a prominent exhale. "Six month. And I'm paying for the clothes. You can choose them. Within reason."
"Oh come on, how is that fair! If I have to take your budget into consideration, I won't be able to pick what I like freely."
"Well, tough. Get creative. Look for sales or something. If I were looking for a sugar daddy-" Shizuo furrows his brow. "Well... alright, I guess you'd still be my first choice." Izaya raises an amused eyebrow at him. "But the point is, I'm not."
Izaya doesn't fold yet.
"In that case." He passes three cards to Shizuo, uncovering two. Cuts him a lopsided grin. "Don't lose."
Shizuo doesn't. They go shopping anyway.
Shizuo is getting insanely good at blackjack and baccarat, and when probability has always been Izaya's pet peeve. He catches on new rules like an eager kid learning new backyard games.
They had discovered that talent by accident, straying off to a casino after a night spent chasing across the city, wreaking havoc. Shizuo has lit up like a Christmas tree playing for the first time. He did quite well. Beginners luck, or so they thought. But there was more to it, and besides that, he was also enthralled with the gloss, the people, the vibrant living atmosphere of the place. He didn't want to get serious about gambling from the customer's end, but they both realized he'd probably enjoy working the tables as a croupier.
One thing led to another, and browsing through offers, Izaya had come across a few issued by luxury cruisers. There were real money in it for Shizuo, with a prospect of long holiday that sounded almost too good to be true. Izaya could take a few months off if that meant traveling the world and making connections among the kind of clientele that was bound to be found aboard. And so there they were, having fun preparing Shizuo for a job interview Izaya was certain by this point he was going to nail.
Izaya hates cliches, and cliche romance most of all. They might skip the wedding but the prospect of honeymoon trip sounds too enticing to pass over.