I am currently going through a sudden infatuation with Shiki/Izaya. And the lack of fic does not help. I am in an outrage too because the character list doesn't even have Shiki's name on it. Gah! I don't own, I only wish more people will write Shiki/Izaya in the nearby future? (yes, this is a public plea!)
Take My Claim
Shiki's office was deathly empty.
There were no bodyguards standing at the corners where the walls met their end, there was only a burning cigarette lighting the way.
From the door, Orihara Izaya snaked his way through the darkness, red eyes adjusting to the shadows that licked at the gray washed walls. He shrugged off his jacket and draped it across the back of the couch, blunt fingernails scrapping against the cheap leather.
He paced his way to the man sitting in his large office throne.
They were both aware of what was happening but neither of them tried to stop the natural flow of reality. Because this was Ikebukuro's way of claiming them.
Taking the nicotine for fresh air, Izaya inhaled as he sat on the tabletop. Nestling a comfortable seat against important papers and confidential documents, he settled down right in front of the other man. The burning end of the cigarette illuminated their faces with a deep red, accentuating on the coarse outline to Shiki's face. Izaya smiled and reached out with a finger to trace the bone, lightly commenting with a waft of interest in his words.
"It's late, Shiki-san."
Shiki didn't need to know all of Izaya's hobbies to know what he was capable of. But right now, all he looked like was an untamed child, lost as to what his own intentions may be.
Peering up, he offhandedly brushed the other off as he took a drag. "I was about to leave the office."
With the reply, Izaya's eyes were drenched with glee. He leaned down and sought for the first kiss of the night.
Their teeth clashed in Izaya's haste. Their tongues throbbed with the trace of nicotine, both foreign and familiar. There was the taste of tangy blood.
Shiki broke away with distaste. "Who were you with?"
"Are you saying I'm cheating on you?" He leaned forward to loom over the man. The height in seats gave Izaya a leverage that he wouldn't usually have when he was with Shiki. A grin broke out as he tsked and shook his head. "That's not a fair accusation on my behalf, Shiki-san."
"You reek of cigarette smoke." Shiki raised a hand to cup Izaya's cheek, fingertips hot against the skin and rings cool against the hurting bruises on his face. The claim was fair, as far as he was concerned. "This brand is not mine's."
"Cigarettes all taste the same for me, Shiki-san."
He shrugged off the grip nonchalantly and their lips met. The dangerous nip that they both initiated stung the flesh and their tongues lapped up the taste of each other as they pulled away.
"Who was it?"
"Who else could it be?" He wound his arms around the man's neck and drew him incredibly close. There was no shame in his admittance and he gave the answer to his own question. "Shizu-chan of course! …Jealous?"
"Its not like this is your first time." Shiki took a drag from his cigarette and Izaya intercepted. He took the burning stick from between his fingers and stubbed it out on the table surface. And before Shiki could exhale, Izaya was kissing him with attempt passion. Swallowing the smoke with a sly lick to his lips, he commented with a bat of his lashes. "I thought you liked me."
"And I thought you liked me too, Orihara-kun."
Ikebukuro's late night lights drafted through the opened window of his office and the two of them knew they were standing at the edge of a fragile power struggle. Izaya's ebony locks seemed to be dirty with a yolky yellow of street lamps. His eyes were half lidded but Shiki could see the red like a burning match.
And it was like a warning to never trust him.
Shiki never tried to mark a single lover that he had. Because he firmly believed that what was his will always return, time after time. There would be no doubt, only faith. But Orihara Izaya was different.
His loyalty rested on narrow strings, balanced between benefits and personal interest. Orihara Izaya wasn't like any one else; this man claimed a category of his own.
And so, Shiki listened to the Ikebukuro lights and bit on the flesh to take his claim.
A soft moan indicated discomfort and Izaya tilted his head back with an arched spine. He was staring into the spiral of darkness and instead of pulling away, he leaned in ever so close. Because children liked to play with matches and Izaya liked older men.
"I do… I love you, Shiki-san."
It was a confessional plead that he forced upon another. Izaya brushed his lips lightly over Shiki's mouth.
"So don't try to cheat on me, I won't ever forgive you. Even if you say sorry," He held Shiki's cheeks in his hands, cool fingertips grazing against the warm cheeks. Izaya smiled, his eyes waned and then he rested his forehead against the other.
"I'll kill you, Shiki-san."
He let go and raked his fingernails down the front of that white suit.
I don't like seeing Izaya as inferior to anyone... even though he does deserve to be put in his place. But Shiki is more like a father figure intimately spoiling a son ;DD