Why's it so hot in spring? I'm going to die during summer. Can someone tell me a story about a time when you felt like you were going to freeze to death?

-Note- Um. It's hot. My mind is not in the right state. I don't think Ikebukuro is that hot during spring, but I'm just going to pretend. There's a lot of things that I don't know about, so if there's anything wrong, please feel free to point it out. Shizaya.


Spring in the busy streets of Ikebukuro was more often determined by the shedding of coats rather then the cherry blossoms that were supposed to be blooming in the gentle breeze. During this time the business workers in suits suffered all the way until the autumn season, unable to do much except fold their jackets over their sweaty arms and clutch the handles to sizzling suitcases. The irritable air was thick in pollutants, trapping the heat rays like a one way glass and creating a giant greenhouse full of tired looking adults. The kids on the other hand, decided to see whose egg would cook first on the sidewalk. They played this now, forgetting that if summer was to come, they'd be the eggs.

Shizuo, a victim of such nonsense, would gingerly step around the half cooked eggs and roll up his sleeves. It was no use. No matter how many times he folded them up to his elbows, they would eventually slide back down. Bartenders were mostly a night job. Kasuka probably didn't think too much on giving him uniforms with short sleeves, though he still appreciated his younger brother's efforts.

With that said, he wasn't even a bartender anymore. A punch to the manager assured him of that fact. He was now, and had been for a while, Mr. Tom's bodyguard, though he probably hurt clients more then guarding anyone from them. It was annoying to have to hear their ridiculous stories about how everything was the environment, government, even their mom's fault. That did nothing more then fuel the anger that already bubbled inside him. If winter had him exploding like a land mine, he was an atomic bomb now.

Right now, he was off duty because of the fact that the bomb did explode and their job done. Shizuo now loomed over the trail back home, where he was itching to shed the layers of clothing he had into something more comfortable and loose fitting. Or maybe indulge himself in a hot bath in the middle of this heat while eating ice cream. Cold things tasted so much better in the most extreme of conditions. He wasn't about to admit this kind of guilty pleasure to anyone though. No one needed to know he liked sweets or where he enjoyed them.

The blonde got to entertain this thought, remembering he had bought a soda based blue popsicle last night so he could enjoy it today. That alone eased some of the heat that was starting to warm around the black vest and seeping into his back.

"I'm home…" he said to no one in particular as he opened the door. It was a habit that he couldn't get rid of even after living alone for quite a time. He still imagined that at least Kasuka would be there, though it was slightly sad when he realized there wasn't even a TV to let him see. Television made him angry. He would put a foot, arm, or a table through it every time the news pissed him off. Seriously, he needed to control his anger. Sighing, he started to slip off his shoes at the entrance, before something, or rather someone stormed into the hallway.

"Welcome home, Shi~zu~-chan!" In a singsong voice, a brunette male pranced into the hallway, his jacket flowing gracefully behind him and a half eaten popsicle in hand.

The blonde froze. He stared wide eyed at the popsicle, then the jacket, then the idiot's smirking face, forgetting for a split second to question how the flea bastard got in his house. As if replying to the unspoken question, Izaya waved a key by the green ribbon attached to its end. "Under the flower pot is so obvious."

"What…the…fuck…" Shizuo grabbed the shoe stand and hurled it straight down the hallway. "ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

The brunette more or less expected it, and he ducked effortlessly at the furniture that was tossed too high. He commented on how he admired the blonde who could easily wreck his own house without a second thought. "It seems like we had matching clients today and-" He blocked an incoming shoe with his arm. "Looks like I couldn't do my business because…" He sidestepped to dodge a picture frame. "He was already half dead when I got there."

"So I decided to come over and express my deepest gratitude for ruining my business," Izaya sighed, shrugging. He waved his hand up and down, the popsicle spitting blue liquid into the wall and floors before the brunette lifted it to his mouth to take a lick. Shizuo twitched.

"Hey flea. Is that………" Shizuo suddenly realized.

"Oh this?" Izaya stopped licking for a second to meet the blonde's eyes. "I found it in your fridge."


The blonde shook while the brunette's smirk grew wider and wider. At the sound of a nonexistent signal, Izaya tossed the clean popsicle stick to the side while Shizuo charged angrily, hopping over the broken shoe stand. They chased each other like pacman and the ghost, twisting and turning around the house with a vigor that would have made roadrunners proud.

Books were littered over the floor, cushions and pillows had stuffing knocked out, broken dishes glimmered dangerously, and the couch was turned over before the two faced each other, both panting heavily. Izaya held out his knife that he had taken out somewhere between running from Shizuo's room to the kitchen, and Shizuo was dragging a wooden chair along. The blonde was tired. He had been, and the searing heat didn't help much. Why? Why couldn't he capture this stupid flea? He had to go and ruin everything, down to the last sign of hope he had for today.

That ice cream. He was really looking forward to it.

Izaya's body swayed, the long black coat following his movements. Brown eyes watched the fluid material move back and forth on the informers body. Sweat dripped from the side of the blonde's cheek, as he flicked it away with the back of his hand. The blonde's clothing were practically one with his skin now, and it was horribly uncomfortable. Watching the man in front of him was worse; he couldn't believe they were in the same room. It was unbelievable to see the puffed up fur caressing and crawling over the other's face and thick cloth in front of him. In black.

Shizuo stared, intensely, striding forward in a few easy steps, and Izaya was slightly taken aback. The brunette almost jumped out of his skin when his shoulders were suddenly locked into a firm grasp. Rigid fingers plucked the fabric into several folds and Izaya didn't even get to say anything before his jacket was easily ripped apart like paper.

"??!!!?" The information broker's jaw dropped down and he went into a violent protest while Shizuo reached for his shirt. Black. Why black…in this temperature… Izaya fought back with his knife, but the blonde just pinned both of his arms against the wall and bit down on the collar, tearing the v-neck into shreds. "SHIZU-CHAN?! SHIZU-CHAN, STOP!"

There was a moment of silence as Izaya visibly trembled, deeply confused and afraid of the mess he got himself into, and Shizuo realizing something. "Why the hell are you so cold?"

"H-hell if I know! I was born like this," Izaya retreated himself to the side, slipping out of the taller male's grasp. He shuddered, hugging himself tightly, eyeing the blonde as if his rival could somehow be crazier than he was.

Returning a thoughtful gaze at the half naked man, Shizuo had a sudden idea. His large hands returned to the same shoulders, earning a freaked out yelp from the informer. The next thing he knows, the brunette was being dragged backwards into the hallway.

"Shi-Shizu-chan?!" They were headed to the bathroom…

"Shut up. Ice creams don't talk."

Sorry. All I wanted to accomplish was to rip that annoying jacket off Izaya in attempts to appease the burning heat. XD

Thank you for reading such an outrageous thing.