Did I Say You Could Speak?

6: Rampo had left...

Rampo had left an hour or so ago with all of the information his heart so desired. Unfortunately, Masaomi and Shizuo were both dissatisfied with the entire interaction. Everyone was in their normal attire, sitting in the kitchen with cups of coffee. Izaya absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the table. Masaomi still reaching his hand under his hoodie to peel off some wax that was just too stuck on him. Shizuo, staring at his cigarettes, not sure if he wanted to smoke or not.

"So, you and your brother...are close," Masaomi finally spoke.

"Yes, yes, I'll answer the question your heart so longs to know," Izaya's voice nonchalant and unamused. "My brother and I have experimented with sexual things since the moment he was first introduced into the family. We aren't blood-related but we might as well be since we are so similar. Even our voices are mistaken for the same over the phone. Imagine how hard his detective life is with an information broker as a brother? And he sounds like that brother too? It makes people uncertain of his cold hard deduced facts."

"D-do you...?" Masaomi looked at his hands. The awkwardness of his question hanging in the air.

"Do I?" Izaya smirked. He took a sip of his coffee and waited for Masaomi to ask his question.

"Do you still experiment with him sexually?" Shizuo asked.

"Hm?" Izaya let out a small condescending laugh. "No, not really. We don't live together anymore. But, I did promise to take a bath with him sometime soon," he admitted. He held out his hand and rested it on Masaomi's face. "Sorry we couldn't play today, Kida-Kun."

"Why can't we?" he frowned, angry at himself for leaning into Izaya's touch and asking such a question. It shouldn't matter to him if they did things or not. Damnit.

"I don't like to play with angry people. It backfires, especially with someone so quick to anger as Shizu-Chan," Izaya looked to the man currently gripping the table. A piece broke off.

"Sorry," Shizuo apologized.

"I think it's time you two left," Izaya gestured to the door. "I wouldn't want you thinking I held any sort of feeling for you, after all."

Masaomi got on the floor. He breathed in deeply before clinging to Izaya's leg and staring up at him with pleading eyes. "Your Majesty, please, I apologize for thinking that I was righteous enough to feel anger towards your brother. Please grace me with your presence. Nothing satisfies me as well as you."

"My, my," Izaya's eyes glimmered. "You certainly know how to push the right buttons. Shizu-Chan, do you feel the same?" The blonde nodded. Izaya closed his eyes and sighed. He stood up, shook Masaomi off of him, and went into his bedroom. He returned a few moments later dressed entirely in white, with the exception of a pink t-shirt and some pink lacing the white of his clothes.

"I'll give you a special treat," Izaya formed a heart with his hands and tilted his head ever so slightly, smiling. "Call me 'Psyche!'~ I'll let you do whatever you wish, with one minor rule, don't touch my ass." Izaya, er, Psyche, placed his hands on his hips. "I suppose I should add a disclaimer. I'm going to be acting, of course, so anything I do can't be trusted. Moans, blushes, lustful eyes, I'm only pretending. In any case," Izaya placed his hand over his heart and bowed, "I am at your service."

One. Two. Three. The entire aura of Izaya changed. He wasn't the information broker, snide, and rude, he was innocent of heart and soul. A dangerous aura lurking but masked quite well by his smile. He stood up straight, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He rocked back and forth, playing with the base of his jacket, avoiding eye contact.

"Shizucchi, Kidacchi, what do you want me to do first?" Psyche's face turned a bit pink to match the color of his shirt. He still toyed with the base of his jacket.

The two bleached blondes looked at each other. Each one was unsure of what was acceptable to request and what was not. The rules had been quite clear, but still, what if they did something wrong? Here Izaya was, fully willing, and both were too scared to say or do anything.

Psyche moved his hand up to fiddle with his fringe. He rocked on the balls of his feet but then looked at the ground. "I guess I'm no good, huh?" he frowned.

Shizuo grabbed the shoulders of Psyche and maneuvered him so that he would sit on the throne. Psyche's eyes widened, clearly shocked, and unsure of what this blonde's purpose was. Masaomi sat on his lap, straddling him, placing both hands on his cheeks and then kissed him. More forcefully, more passionately, than Rampo had, making Psyche moan.

Psyche's hands frantically moved around; his face becoming a brighter shade of red. Psyche grabbed Masaomi's shoulders, gently pushing him away. Shizuo grabbed Masaomi by the hood of his hoodie and dragged him off of Psyche. The raven-head hid his face in his hands and panted softly, trying and failing to catch his breath.

Shizuo got on his knees. He began to undo Psyche's belt. Psyche grabbed Shizuo's hands, flustered beyond a doubt. "S-Shizucchi?"

"Hey, kid," Shizuo spoke to Masaomi without so much as glancing at him, "get the rope."

"S-Shizucchi?! W-wait a minut- eeek!" Psyche yelped when Masaomi grabbed his wrists and brought them above his head. He struggled to break free but was unable to. The rope thoroughly tied to the throne's upper piece.

Hands tied. Dignity lost. Psyche watched with horror as Shizuo exposed his dick. "No! Wait! Stop!" Psyche struggled against his bonds. He tried and he tried to break free, wriggling around as much as possible, unable to. "I'll be good. I'll be good! Please don't put your mouth there!"

Psyche whimpered when he felt the warmth of Shizuo's mouth. Face flushed and restraint gone. "S-Shizucchi..." Psyche cried. Small tears in his eyes. He was too embarrassed for this. Heat from his face warm enough to convince Masaomi he had a fever.

Masaomi grabbed Psyche's chin, turning his attention to himself. He sat on the side of the throne to kiss Psyche, stealing the attention from Shizuo. He unbuttoned and stripped Psyche as well as he could while trying to kiss him. His hand slipped, gently grazing an ass cheek. The two bleached blondes had forgotten all about the rule. They convinced themselves Psyche and Izaya were one and the same.

Cold eyes. Pale face. Devoid of emotion. Izaya bit Masaomi's tongue. In pain, the blonde winced and fell off the throne. He grabbed his tongue and held it, blood and all. What the fuck?

Izaya broke the rope with sheer will power. He grabbed Shizuo's hair, shoving his head back, and let go only to kick him in the face. Shizuo winced, grabbing his cheek, he curled up into a ball and groaned.

"I said," Izaya took off his jacket, "not," he kicked Masaomi in the crotch, "to touch," Izaya tore off his pants, "my ass." Izaya glared, walking into his office, fully naked, agitated, and slammed the door.