Touch and Go

The Sixth Visit

Warning - NSFW. 

"I never quite understood these things," Izaya sighs, staring into Shizuo's book collection. He doesn't have many, a select few he enjoys in his calmer moments. Never could he feel comfortable enough to read around Izaya. So he thinks. "Books represent the life of a human and yet they're so far removed from that very thing. Perhaps because they are written from someone's perspective of these people. Perspectives are so often wrong and always incomplete. After all, you thought you'd hate me forever when we met," 

"Uh huh and prove me wrong on that," 

The corners of Izaya's mouth twitch up at Shizuo's delightful dry humour. Everything about him is so not-Izaya's type and yet he is entirely Izaya's type. The oxymoronic man gets up from his couch and pours himself a glass of milk in the small but modern kitchen connected to the living room. This house is so open plan, Izaya loves it. Perfect for a wheelchair but he doesn't let himself think that. He cannot suffer the disappointment returning to the car home after giving himself expectations. 

Shizuo pours himself a glass of milk. He doesn't like alcohol and milk is a way to prevent his bones deteriorating under the immense pressure of strength, recklessness, adrenaline and osteoporosis. Izaya watches him gulp it down with a lazy smile. "You can't possibly hate me. There must be a reason you invited me to stay the night Shizu~Chan," 

"Other than the fact that my apartment was close and we were being hunted by the police?" 

"You lied to the care home. You jeopardised your community service order for this," he realise these words only as he says them. Wondering exactly why Shizuo would risk so much for someone he just met and apparently dislikes. "You took a big risk just to help me. Why?" 

"I hate people who take advantage of others," he explains. "They ruined your life over a debt. I hate people like that even more than I hate you. if that's possible," 

"I wouldn't say my life is ruined at all. I can still work. You don't need legs tp be an info broker. I can still fight, you saw that today. I ca still go to restaurants and meet with my friends," 

"That's all true. But when I was running with you in that wheelchair I could tell how much it was killing you not to be running with me. You miss the thrill of the chase, don't you Izaya?" 

Izaya sighs, resting his head on his palms. Shizuo can be so cute when he's being fake-profound. Like John Watson imitating Sherlock to Sherlock himself. "You're right. That would be tedious to deny," he yawns a cat-like yawn, stretching his arms out. "I'm tired, it was a long day. Let's go to bed," 

"You barely moved!" 

"I'm tired," he states again - this time with a knowing glint in his eye, the shadows if his face stark and low. "Let's go to bed," 

"...Oh," Shizuo blinks. "I don't... I don't know,"

"Why not?" Izaya frowns, not expecting this answer. "Do you not like me, Shizuo Hewajima?" 

His smirk grows cruel "Are you afraid to break me?" 

"What? No," Shizuo rolls his eyes, entirely done with Izaya's bullshit. "I have a thing. About people seeing my body. Thought you'd figure that our you love humans to fucking much," screw it, he starts to smoke. There's a condom around the fire alarm to prevent it sounding. He smokes long and hard draws so deep the cigarette is finished after only a few. He smokes until his lungs fill to capacity. 

"I was already aware of your 'thing'," he folds his hands under his chin. "You don't need to show me anything. You can even keep that bowtie on if you want. I simply need your trust,"