Shizuo stumbled blindly through blurs of color and nothingness as he raced towards the only clear thing in his mind. Lights and faces, voices and bodies blended into a loose mix of vague objects as Shizuo stormed through the city, the details faded and irrelevant to his focal point and unadulterated focus;

Izaya Orihara.

The blond had traversed these streets so frequently that he didn't even have to look where his foot-falls landed to know that he was going in the right direction. Simple sense drove him on and anger steamed around his entire aura, driving away any obstructing people before they were violently tossed aside. The buzzing of hateful desire in his mind blocked out any distractions other than the pounding of his feet on pavement that reverberated through his skull, and his barely labored breathing that ripped through his throat and inflated his exhausted lungs. Shizuo wasn't going to stop now.

To be accurate, Shizuo had thundered into Shinjuku from Ikebukuro rather than running, his whole presence much like that of a storm, ready to lash out at anything in its way. Bystanders knew this, keeping their distance as the one-track man dashed through the city at unbecoming hours of the morning. To him, none of the details mattered so long as he got to his destination and ripped the smirk from the other man's face.

That god damned smirk.

Just the mental image was enough to speed up Shizuo's pace, much to the chagrin of his blistering feet and heaving ribcage. In one way or another, everything and anything going haywire in Shizuo's life could (and would) be pinned on the maniacal brunette, so long as the blond could make up a connection. Which he always managed to do.

Which is why, at precisely two thirty-five in the morning, Shizuo Heiwajima was standing threateningly outside of Izaya's apartment door. By then, absolute rage had worn away the traces of whatever Shizuo's frustration had come from, but he was sure that when he saw the flea's face it would come back to him. Or he'd get the vermin to talk. Either way the informant wasn't going to make it through the day.

The blond ignored his body's protests, finally at a standstill the ringing in his ears cleared and his head felt less light-headed, leaving room for the utter exhaustion he had left over from a long day of work. Among the sounds of the cars whishing by in the street outside, Shizuo almost reconsidered his visit. Almost. Even if he forgot his original intention for coming, he could make up another one. Or just causing the brunette some pain would make his trip worthwhile, seeing the man who thought he was god dripping life at Shizuo's feet definitely called for satisfaction.

So drawing up his own malicious smirk, Shizuo placed a palm on the center of the plain metallic door—and pushed, causing it to fall effortlessly (for Shizuo) from it's frame and collide almost soundlessly with the carpeted floor beneath. The blond stepped into the darkened arch of the doorway, light bleeding in through the hallway illuminated only a few paces in front of Shizuo and the entire building seemed so much quieter. Senses alert, Shizuo's menacing form advanced into the shadows of the bleakly lit living room, the pitch of silence rang in his ears as he strained to listen and watch for any movement.

Contrary to his inner turmoil, Shizuo stepped delicately through the rooms of the apartment, half-expecting the feisty man to come flying at him from the shadows. The blond silently promised to destroy the apartment later, and all the objects in it, as his shin collided with a very inconveniently placed coffee table and a hiss of curses bled into the quiet.

Not caring much for the eerie calm, Shizuo marched impatiently from room to room, looking vehemently for Izaya. When the brunette appeared no where to be found, anger began thrumming in Shizuo's temple again and he was about to stop caring about the attention of sleeping neighbors and start throwing Izaya's shit around the place— before soft scuffling drifting from an unopened door caught his ear.

The blond opened the door with half-caution, adjusted eyes scanning the room for the source of disturbance. The room appeared to be a bedroom, a dresser or two placed casually along opposite walls, and a nice sized bed resting beside the illuminated window. Just as Shizuo's finger curled around a light switch, something shifted and his eyes shot towards the bed, a small figure twisted on the surface and Shizuo could now make out the rise and fall of someone's chest.

Was Izaya…sleeping?

Shizuo was partially dumbfounded, not that he thought Izaya never slept (maybe once or twice he did) but he'd never actually caught the man out of action. The blond left the forgotten light switch, shuffling slowly towards the edge of the bed to confirm his suspicions, giving the sleeping figure a once-over. Jet black hair splayed against the contrasting white of a pillow, the slight silver sheen from the window wrapping a halo around his head, the determined and arrogant expressions that Izaya usually wore were replaced with a strange frustrated peace that wound its way down the lithe and unfamiliarly relaxed form. A single white sheet was tangled oddly around the informant's body, wrapped around his waist, looping around one shoulder and spiraling across the opposite leg, while everything else was left uncovered except by shorts and a t-shirt that Shizuo had never seen the man wear before, unused to seeing so much of the pale flesh.

The most disturbing thing to Shizuo was just how human and vulnerable the omniscient Izaya looked.

Refocusing his thoughts and trying to stir up his anger again, Shizuo wondered whether to kill Izaya now or wake him up first—but before he reached a decision the body twisted again in the sheets, and a strangled noise spilled from Izaya's throat, and for a split second Shizuo panicked thinking that the man was awake. Calming his irrational fears, Shizuo waited for something from Izaya—a blade to his throat perhaps?—but when nothing happened he figured that the brunette was still asleep.

Shizuo was at a stalemate with himself—glancing at the still figure in the bed he half wanted to leave and pretend like it wasn't actually Izaya, saving the man to kill him another day when he didn't look so helpless. The other half still wanted to snap the informant's neck, but that part was quickly fading while Izaya rolled over again, unconscious face contorting into some pained expression as his fingers and toes visibly clenched in the mattress, an outward response to whatever dream the man was having.

The blond turned, slightly irritated with his decision to leave, and started walking back towards the bedroom door when a soft noise from behind him recaptured his attention. Shizuo looked over his shoulder, glaring suspiciously at Izaya. Another half-whimper half-groan tumbled from the informant's lips and Shizuo raised an eyebrow. Izaya shifted again so that his hair fell over his face, hiding the strained expressions from Shizuo as more uncharacteristic sounds were uttered.

Shizuo strolled back over to Izaya, partly confused, wondering if the man was sick. Lowering his head to the brunette's chest, the racing tempo of Izaya's heart filled his ear, but Izaya's now flushed forehead was cool to the touch, and Shizuo tried not to ask himself why it even mattered if his enemy was sick.


The whispered commands startled Shizuo, and a slender hand gripped onto the fabric of his sleeve, and the blond's gaze shot to Izaya's face. The man's expression was a disarray of conflicting emotions, where Shizuo saw fear, anxiety and something unclear flicker around…but Izaya was still asleep. The blond's eyes widened, thinking 'A nightmare?' as another strangled whimper ghosted his ears. Still kneeling by the bed, Shizuo watched as the brunette's form switched again, rolling so that he was on his stomach and his hands clenched the sheets beneath him. Shizuo wondered at what kind of nightmare Izaya could be having, a bead of sweat slipping down the brunette's twitching face and then…

Shizuo just barely noticed the way that Izaya's hips gently swayed against the mattress at first, before the man's legs slid farther apart and he gyrated against the warped sheets, surprising the blond man at his side. Izaya's chin pressed roughly into his pillow as his hips rocked again, rolling his thighs against the friction of the mattress and a breathless gasp escaped his lips. A muffled moan rang in Shizuo's ears as Izaya's frustrated movements became more erratic, and the blond was frozen in his place.


Shizuo was transfixed, the night was strange to start with when he found the man sleeping—but to walk in on a wet dream was something else, that Shizuo reluctantly couldn't deny was…erotic. At least that's what the blond called it as Izaya's rather exposed skin glittered faintly with a light sheen of sweat and his body ground into the mattress, making the confines of Shizuo's pants rather uncomfortable. The blond's cheeks heated and shame pricked at his mind as he acknowledged his own arousal coming to attention while his eyes stayed glued to the panting Izaya, made all the more alluring in the blue-silver glow of the stationary moon.

"Ahh, Shi-nmm…zuahh…."

Izaya's whimpers sounded like a stream of incoherent words, exactly what Shizuo didn't know. Izaya bucked once more into the bed, and a guttural groan broke in the tense atmosphere—

"Uuuh, Shizuonngh—"

The blond's world froze. Not even Izaya's dizzying panting seemed to break Shizuo's state of shock. 'Did he just—no. He wouldn't say…but he did…and I…and I what?' the blond stared fixedly at Izaya's slack face, adrenaline pumping through his ears and he wasn't sure what made him so excited—or at least he didn't want to know. Like the way Izaya moaned his name in unmistakable lust, or the way Shizuo's restraint was growing weaker and weaker as possibilities of what the brunette was dreaming came surfacing in Shizuo's own mind.

He should be disgusted—he should be reeling back in anger, he shouldn't be hesitating to break the man's neck, and he most certainly shouldn't be aroused—but he was. Shizuo's name tumbled breathlessly from Izaya's mouth again, the springs under the mattress squeaking in protest as the blond man climbed onto the bed as well, hovering above the unconscious form of his enemy. His enemy.

None of the pretenses seemed to matter though, because Izaya obviously wasn't caring about the predetermined hate-boundaries, otherwise neither of them would be (whether knowingly or not) in this predicament. The brunette wouldn't be dreaming about Shizuo, and Shizuo wouldn't be lowering his head down to Izaya's as the informant shifted so that he was lying on his back beneath Shizuo, eyes still closed to the world outside his dreams. And if Izaya didn't abide by the boundaries, why should Shizuo?

"Ahh-hah, Shizuo!" Izaya hissed, his hips bucking and rubbing accidentally against Shizuo's own, causing friction to spark between them, and Shizuo finally broke. The blond latched his lips on the soft skin of Izaya's collarbone, any worries about taking advantage of the man forgotten. The cool fingers of his left hand traced Izaya's skin lazily down his navel where the shirt hiked up over his stomach, and maneuvered his caresses down towards the edge of the other's shorts, fingering the hem of the boxers. The brunette's body rocked again, and Shizuo's hand descended down around the heated shaft as a throaty moan erupted from Izaya's throat. The blond's mouth plagued every inch of exposed skin, and his hand pumped the informant's erection, oblivious to the hazy crimson eyes that fluttered open.

For the past two weeks Izaya's dreams had been a vibrant frenzy of conflicting emotions and raging hormones that betrayed both his libido and mind. Every morning since his last encounter with Shizuo, he had awakened with damp sheets and a dense memory of agonizingly pleasurable dreams about the man. The frustration with his betraying body and denying mind had died down after the first week, and cooled into a slight acceptance when the graphic visions showed no sign of stopping. He'd only just been able to contain his flush and shame when he saw Shizuo in the past fourteen days, careful to avoid the man as much as possible to keep his irritating arousal down.

No matter what he did, the dreams kept coming back. And no matter what he dreamt, it was all gone in the morning, and Izaya didn't like knowing that it disappointed him.

Waking up slowly as his hazy eyes flickered open; a passive daze towards his ceiling, Izaya expected nothing different from slick, sticky underwear and a bruised ego. Though, in his state of half-awareness, the brunette could almost swear that it felt as if —

Izaya gasped audibly as wet warmth enveloped his erection, and the fingertips from his dream still brushed along his skin. In a feverish daze, Izaya glanced down at where tingling sensations still wracked his body, and was stunned when his gaze met Shizuo's form as the blond's tongue worked his erection.

"Haah-ahng!" Was the only thing the informant managed to gasp out as the warm mouth surrounded the head of his length, and Shizuo's fingers twisted the perk nubs on Izaya's chest, causing the brunette's eyes to roll back as bliss shivered through him. The questions on where Shizuo came from and where his clothes were evaporated with his humid breath while other's tongue worked around his shaft, driving away coherent thought.

"Uhhn, Sh-Shizu-ohhh, hah… w-wha?"

If the blond heard him, then Izaya was ignored as the man's tongue left his arousal, nipping and sucking on the skin of Izaya' s thighs while his hands still abused the man's chest. Though confused, Izaya couldn't say that he didn't enjoy every bit of the strange attentions while they lasted. Suddenly, the hands that were resting on Izaya's hips gripped harshly and Izaya was spun around onto his stomach, face buried in his pillow and his knees supporting his risen behind.

"Ahh- Shizuo, what are you doing?"

Izaya finally managed to blurt out as a finger probed his entrance and his cheek was pressed roughly against the surface of the pillow, hands gripping at the corners of his sheets while he panted to recover his breath. Shizuo started, eyes darting to Izaya's, and time seemed to stand still.

In retrospect, Shizuo supposed that he should've expected the other to be jolted awake by his actions, but at the time the whole thing had just seemed so unreal, his conscious so detached, that he hadn't thought that far ahead. By the time Izaya had snapped back to reality, Shizuo was already submerged in mind-numbing lust in such a way that the blond had trouble keeping his eyes from straying back to the warm, pliant body beneath him after Izaya's outburst. Drawn-out seconds felt like lifetimes while Shizuo tried to process just what was occurring, and the brunette heard his own pounding pulse above his steadying breath.

Izaya couldn't decide whether to attempt pulling out his flick blade, as futile as it might have been, in some sort of defense towards his pride, or encouraging Shizuo to continue, now that he was there for whatever reason, perhaps putting an end to the torturous cycle of dreams—or starting something completely new. His mind was such a jumbled disarray of misshapen thoughts, still tumbling through the half-awareness of sleep and the confusing turn of events, that the only thing achingly clear was his regret for saying anything at all. Sudden sparks of panic flooded Izaya's mind as thoughts of Shizuo finding out about his dreams surfaced, and shame for his possibly ruined reputation pricked at him before he realized how ridiculous the worry was when Shizuo was the one ravishing him in the dead of night.

"I think it's kind of obvious…" Shizuo finally stated, breaking the monotony of tense silence, unaware of his own breathlessness before the words came out a ragged whisper. Unable to come up with a better reply in the situation, the blond waited for a shame-riddled rejection from the probably disgusted brunette, his eyes had a sudden aversion to Izaya's, taking newfound interest in the window beside the bed. Just knowing that he was expecting a sickened refusal, and knowing that he would be upset by it flared a self-righteous hatred in Shizuo. Izaya was the one dreaming about him, the bastard had no right to act otherwise now. The blond had a sudden need to defend himself, glaring at Izaya again and elaborating.

"I had every intention of coming here tonight and snapping your neck, it's not my fault you can't stop moaning my name in your sleep, damn flea. " Shizuo knew that his reasoning didn't exactly add up, but he wasn't in the mood to care, completely willing to blame Izaya for what he was doing.

Izaya was thankful for the cover of night, thinking his face had flushed more in the past five minutes than it had in his lifetime. The informant bit back the 'it's completely your fault, stupid brute' and a whole other array of smart remarks, deciding instead to put aside his instigating for a chance at relief to his throbbing erection. Izaya inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the nauseating fluttering in his chest, and flipped around so that his behind came down from the air and he was seated on it, rising to his knees on the mattress to face Shizuo.

He'd shown more weakness and vulnerability than he'd experienced in his entire twenty-three years. Though Izaya absolutely detested giving anyone slight control over him, for the circumstances provided, he resolved to make an exception. He'd never been one to live within a comfort zone, might as well indulge in one night of pleasurable exposure, and forget it ever happened in the morning. And with the confidence that Shizuo most likely wouldn't want news of the incident spreading anyway, Izaya dared to take his fantasies to the next level. The brunette wrapped his arms around Shizuo's shoulders, the blond meeting his sultry gaze with an endearing expression of shock.

"I don't care what you came here for, just finish what you started, Shizu-chan," Izaya gave his best attempt at an alluring purr, cherishing the gawk on his counterpart as he twined his fingers into coarse blond hair and pulled Shizuo into a kiss. The clash of lips was anything but gentle; Izaya swept his tongue hastily against the blond's lower lip, demanding entrance, and not waiting for Shizuo's approval before plunging into the warm depths of the damp cavern. The blond seemed to come to, finally responding by clenching his own fist in raven locks and wrapping his arm possessively around the other's waist and with it gripping onto Izaya's t-shirt so tightly that his fingers pressed painfully into the other's side.

Izaya groaned into the kiss, muffled by Shizuo's mouth and tongue that had begun to dominate Izaya's. The blond leaned into him to the point of toppling Izaya over onto his back, the protesting springs of the mattress pushing back against him, but Shizuo didn't allow their contact to be broken. Air was gasped for in the brief moments of separation, saliva from each dripped down the other's chin, mingling in a way neither man would've previously imagined. The brunette nipped at Shizuo's tongue for every time the blond caressed the inside of Izaya's jaw with his anxious organ, the salty tang of sweat and blood almost covered each man's own taste.

Izaya characterized Shizuo's taste with the bitter sting of nicotine that teased his gag reflex mixed with salivating sweetness and cream sweeping across his palette in a not so unpleasant way, and admittedly fitting in the informant's opinion. Shizuo was welcomed to the familiar taunt of chocolate and traces of caffeine, tangled oddly with an edible aroma that could only be described as Izaya. The thought didn't sit idly while the blond ran his tongue over the other's quick-to-react teeth, which flashed out to bite Shizuo's lower lip challengingly, Izaya's tongue lapping up the blood that seeped from the light infliction.

The blond met the other's challenge with full force, crushing his mouth against the other's, leaving no room for air, overpowering with bruising pressure. Izaya drank in the near asphyxiation with masochistic glee, his pleasure shooting him to a tantalizingly close range of climax. The brunette arched against Shizuo, rubbing his hard-on against the other's bulging trousers. Shizuo ran his hand from Izaya's hair down to his neglected arousal, pushing the informant's reluctant hips back down to the bed while he stroked the heated flesh. The arm resting uncomfortably underneath Izaya slid out and worked its way to Shizuo's pants, fumbling blindly with the belt and zipper while his attention refocused on Izaya's nape.

Shizuo sank his canines into the soft flesh of Izaya's neck, listening for the almost inaudible gasp, and eyed his territorial mark with satisfaction before moving to another unblemished patch of collarbone. Izaya attempted to hold back his moans and gasps with agonizing effort, until the fingers that were teasing the slit of his arousal snaked down to his entrance and plunged into the opening while he was distracted by the dizzying pleasure-pain in his neck, rigid agony triggering his vocal chords as Shizuo worked the digits inside him.

His frustrating arousal lost Izaya's immediate attention while the clenching muscles in his aching ass obtained it all, questioning why on earth he'd let Shizuo top him.

"Aaugh, sh-shizu…it nngh ha-hurts, haa-ah," The brunette chewed out through clenched teeth, eyes squeezed shut in some attempt to alleviate the pain, breath relieving itself in short puffs.

Shizuo seemed to have some sympathy, pressing his lips back gently against Izaya's and trailing his tongue from the corner of the other's mouth to the shell of his ear in a soothing manner, whispering sweet nothings into it while his fingers flexed and moved. Izaya's discomfort soon eased, and his muscled relaxed against Shizuo's fingers, while they searched for the spot that would—

"A-HAAH, Shizu-chan, th-there—"

Shizuo grinned, thrusting his fingers against the spot again while the brunette rocked against him, hissing at the torturous amount of pleasure that flooded into his arousal. The blond withdrew his fingers, Izaya emitting a short whine of disapproval, before Shizuo flipped him back onto his elbows and knees to position his own length at the man's opening. Izaya braced himself as his face chaffed against the fabric of his pillow, waiting impatiently for Shizuo to reenter him. The blond gripped onto Izaya's abused hips, sheathing himself in moist heat, forcing himself not to lose control just yet.

Izaya could think of a million things he'd rather be doing as Shizuo entered him, the uncomfortable size of his erection making the brunette feel as though something was ripping, and he had to bite down on his pillow to keep from yelling. Noticing the other's obvious discomfort, Shizuo tried to help refocus the man's attention by peppering nips and bites along the man's spine, licking the smaller inflictions while Izaya's muscles began to flex and relax. Shuddering breaths squeezed from Izaya's lungs while he composed himself, glad that the other couldn't see his face, and he forced himself to push back against Shizuo in the hopes of finding that spot again.

The blond acknowledged his counterpart's movements, slipping out a bit, and then back in to start a rhythm of sorts. Growing accustomed to his position, Shizuo tried aiming his thrusts in new angles, the tight warmth inviting him to move harder and faster. Their tempo increased, breathing erratic, and when Shizuo finally slammed into Izaya's prostate, their moans grew deafening. The slap of flesh on flesh caught pace with their thrumming heartbeats, senses overrode as oblivion came nearer. Almost forgetting to breathe, Shizuo inhaled with a gasp, musty aroma of sex and sweat made him light-headed, and his fingers began to lose their bruising grip on Izaya's slick skin.

The informant's prolonged erection with the constant abuse of his prostate made him dizzy, scattering most of his thoughts except how he wished he'd gotten Shizuo into this earlier. His stomach fluttered and with a satisfying groan, Izaya climaxed against the tangled sheets. The blond still pumped into him, eyes scrunched and his thrusts went dizzying as his release approached. Izaya gasped against his soggy pillow, letting his breath catch pace with the rest of him in the last traces of orgasm, no longer arching against Shizuo's movements.

Shizuo opened his eyes in the last moment as his climax overtook him, catching sight of the spent brunette, making his release that much more pleasurable inside of the other. Shizuo pulled out of Izaya, and collapsed on the bed, ignorant towards the surrounding dampness, and faced Izaya who stared at him in turn. Lips parted, breathing steadying, the informant lazily twirled a finger over Shizuo's abdomen, waiting for his mind to catch up to the present. The blond wasn't sure how to react, so he opted to remain still, watching the aimless pattern spiral over his skin at the tip of Izaya's finger.

"So…what now?" Shizuo felt out of place breaking the silence, unsure of what to do otherwise. Confused towards what he wanted or what Izaya wanted to evolve from this, confused towards the desires wrap his arms around the other yet get the hell away from him. Unsure of completely flipping their relationship around, or just pretending like nothing ever happened. Peering into Izaya's hooded eyes; he could tell that, for once, the brunette wasn't sure either.

"What do you think? We sleep; I need that rest you took from me. Night, Shizu-chan." Izaya muttered, trying to cover his own insecurity with nonchalance, rolling onto his side away from Shizuo. Though having completely avoided the underlying question, Shizuo just sighed, wondering how the hell he managed to get himself in such a mess. Settling for draping an arm over Izaya's waist and pretending like everything would make sense in the morning, Shizuo drifted into unconsciousness.

A/N: I hadn't actually planned on uploading this...but...I felt kinda bad for the lack of updates.