Dear readers,

Thank you for so many alerts and favorites and all of that stuff. However, PLEAAAAAAASE stop adding my stories to alerts that are COMPLETE. For some reason, it drives me crazy! And I get all these emails! And I do love seeing emails for reviews and favorites, but alerts on complete stories. I'm really OCD (legitimately OCD, actually) and for some reason, it grates on my nerves. Lol. No offense to anybody because I seriously love you guys dearly for all of your support and love that you've given me!

*is an annoying turd*

Forgive me, and thank you again.

THIS STORY is complete. A complete fill I did for the kink meme. I do hope you enjoy it and I can't wait to hear your thoughts. :D

Sincerely,

Informant 1342


I don't feel real, I don't feel real
This pain is beating
I don't feel real, I don't feel real

Well nothing feels real anymore
I'm not taking my time anymore


"So, here we are again, eh? What do you plan to do this time?"

Despite the terror repeatedly slamming his heart against his ribcage, Orihara Izaya narrowed his bloodlust gaze on the man in front of him, desperate to show no fear, no weakness, even as self-control began to slip through the cracks; oozing from his mask. A brave front designed to hide his undying hopelessness.

There may have been nothing waiting for him in the afterlife, but the way his red eyes observed the situation he was a dead man either way. It was pride alone that left him hanging by a final thread.

Izaya would rather die than be a prisoner.

He didn't like this game which left his opponent one miniscule move away from a checkmate. He did not like to lose.

"There's no way out. Give it up."

Putting his life at an even greater risk, the informant took a step back, careful not to fall as he balanced himself on the tower's ledge with an artistic grace. Smooth. Natural elegance like a cat. Light. Weightless like a bird. A raven.

'How poetic,' he thought, smirking to himself. 'Either way, this is suicide.'

Widening his malicious grin, Izaya turned his head, just enough to see the view laid out before him as a heavy gust ripped through his ebony hair.

"There is always a way out," he says loudly enough for his enemy to hear him over the constant wind.

"Don't be stupid, Flea. You'll die."

A way out. Regardless.

"So if I step down from this ledge, you won't kill me?" the brunet challenged, sure of the enemy's intent.

He refused to give him the satisfaction.

The adrenaline pulsating through his veins felt like an electric shock to every nerve in his body. His chest tightened. His palms began to sweat. This isn't how he wanted to leave this world. Immortals are not meant to die.

"Get down, Izaya," his opponent ordered.

What business did he have calling the shots?

The informant cackled in an attempt to sever the final threads of both joy and insanity before he met his most certain end, fooling nobody but himself in the true quality of such laughter.

"That doesn't answer the question, idiot," he snapped, sinking his venomous words into the other man's heart.

Caramel eyes flashed, widening with fear and hurt as the figure in question turned his back to his enemy, drinking in a better view from where he precariously balanced on a legitimate line between life and death. His opponent stood frozen in his stance, unable to sense any playful mockery in the brunet's tone.

Tears lined Izaya's own ruby orbs as he soaked in all that he could of Shinjuku. A heavenly aura blanketed Tokyo. Ethereal. Golden like the gleam of sunrise over the bay. The lights below him burned brighter than the stars pinned to the clear night sky overhead, and despite the wind rushing past his ears, there was silence. It was about as peaceful as it was terrifying; as spectacular as it was deadly.

"Do you know how high up we are, Shizu-chan?" Izaya asked darkly, feeling the gusts chill the tears streaming down his cheeks.

The trembling in his voice did not make it to Heiwajima Shizuo's ears as the question carried on the late night breeze. To the petrified blond, the informant sounded entirely normal - as far as "normal" can be for a bipolar psychopath. If only he could see the distressed melancholy on his pale face, or feel the painful tremors racing up his spine, spreading to the very tips of his nimble fingers. If only he knew how agonizing every sharp breath was. But one wrong move, and Izaya was sure to die.

"The Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building has forty-eight floors," Izaya informed the bodyguard before he could answer. "It is two-hundred-forty-three meters tall. Do the math. That's Seven-hundred-ninety-seven feet, ne? How long do you think it would take for me to hit the pavement? At what velocity? At what force?"

"Doesn't matter," Shizuo said, clenching his fists, "Dead is dead."

"Really? I'm curious. Why don't we test it."

"Don't do this," the blond pleaded, taking an uneasy step toward his adversary. "Please."

"Since when did you begin to value my life, Shizu-chan?" Izaya scoffed, doing his best to remain cold and condescending. "All facts considered, if anything, we've spent more time attempting to kill each other than even thinking about where the animosity lies to begin with. My wellbeing never meant a thing to you. And all of a sudden, everything has changed. You've rewritten the rules."

"So what?"

"I can't play this game anymore."

"If you wanted to die, you'd have jumped already."

Ripping his weeping red eyes away from the endless structures before him, Izaya shot Shizuo a deadly glare, failing to conceal his fear anymore. However, it was not simply a fear of death glimmering in each orb, but remorse.

Bitter remorse.

As cold as the wind pounding against his back.

As cold as death.

"You don't want this," the blond slowly shook his head; his tone begging the informant to be more reasonable. "I don't want this."

"Then what do you want?" the question demanded an answer. The right answer.

A shock bolted through the brunet's system feeling a strong hand encompass his own. Shizuo held tightly, while the informant reached for the untouched blade in his pocket using his free hand.

"I wanna talk. On solid ground," Shizuo said firmly. An opinion with the strength of an elephant.

"There is nothing to talk about," the smaller man continued his protests, desperately clutching his knife as he hesitated to pull it on the blond.

"Izaya, you're terrified of death. What does killing yourself prove?"

"That you could never put me in a cage. That sovereignty is worth dying for."

"That's insanity," Shizuo growled, gritting his teeth, "That's not me and you know it."

"But it will be."

"Why do you do this to yourself? To us? Haven't we been through it all before?"

"And we'll go through it again and again until it makes sense!"

"Not if you're dead," Shizuo sighed, "Izaya, why don't you trust me?"

"Why should I?" the raven shot.

"If you die tonight I'll never be able to show you that you can."

With a hard tug, Izaya freed himself from the monster's grip, all the while searching those honey eyes for answers to life's greatest mysteries. "Why did you tell me you love me?"

"Because I do! God damn it, Izaya."

"Why."

"I'll tell you on solid ground."

Izaya scoffed, immediately refusing the suggestion. "The next time I'm on solid ground, my body will be in pieces."

"Don't say that," Shizuo warned, terrorized by such a threat. "Don't you dare."

Tears thickened as the blond's intense gaze locked onto the informant's. "Why do you love me, Shizuo?"

Drawing in a deep breath, the blond did his best to push away the fearful thoughts burning holes in his brain like acid, making it impossible for him to think about anything beyond the fact that the man he was trying to talk down could easily fall to his death. Time was running short as he could already feel the raven slipping away… almost like he had already jumped.

Shizuo's nerves were on fire.

This was not an easy confession to make after a constant struggle simply trying to say the three small words which had haunted him since high school. Three miniscule words strung together n the most powerful spell a human being can be cursed by. He had never expected this reaction from Izaya, always living with the assumption that the flirty, arrogant smile worn by that sinister black bird was something positive; that maybe he wanted him too.

Life, clearly, had a funny way of fucking with them. Cruel irony. That's what this was.

The bodyguard drew in a deep breath, ill-prepared for these revelations. Salvaging his pride was not worth ending the life of another human being, let alone the one he so foolishly fell for all those years ago, if only to camouflage the truth with malice.

Had it been a mistake to suppress all of those feelings? Izaya should have known before it turned into this disaster.

But all of those fights… they were the closest they could be without falling victim to the truth…

"Because, Flea… you're my life," the blond declared, desperate to keep those saccharine eyes trained on his own, fearing that he may never see them again after this dreadful night. "My constant. The only one I can count on to make or break my day. You're my fucking insanity. And I mean that. You make me crazy. Izaya… you… without you there is no me."

Izaya's breath hitched, and silence settled between them once again. Unspoken feelings had been mashed together with words which had lost all meaning, leaving him anxiously impoverished. His head was spinning, anxiously trying to stay glued to his shoulders.

"Then where were you?" the informant finally asked, voice much lower; barely audible over the angry winds.

His murky thoughts weren't clearing up any time soon. The only way to get through this was to blindly reach into the depths of his brain, pulling out the first words he could hook.

"What…?"

"Where were you when I was scared?" his urgent defiance emerged full throttle. "Where were you when I was alone, Shizu-chan?"

Shizuo gaped like a fish for a moment. "I-Izaya, I don't know what you're talking about."

"You were never there when I needed you," he hissed, brows knit to give cruel emphasis to his blood-stained irises.

"How was I supposed to know?" the blond had no choice but to defend himself, hating how it sounded like an excuse as the words rolled off of his tongue. "You never told me."

Gritting his teeth, Izaya did his best to stop the flow of tears, failing miserably as his red eyes searched the ground below him for the sidewalk. "Exactly. And you never spoke up either."

"Izaya…"

"Haven't you ever asked yourself why?"

Shizuo looked away in shame. The informant had him cornered.

"Because it's better this way. So just let me go."

Izaya was feeling something he couldn't describe, contradicting himself at every turn as he found himself unable to voice the feelings he had kept trapped within himself for so many years, unknowing that the man trying to save him had felt them too. So many years had been wasted on sheer malevolence to avoid the fact that they were hopelessly bound to one another, be it in love or loathing.

Now, the only thing left of a relationship was regret, placing Izaya between a rock and a hard place.

Choking down the lump in his throat, Shizuo nodded, giving into the madness. "Fine."

Startled by his compliance, the brunet eyed the blond suspiciously, unsure of what more to say. However, the man standing across from him had it all figured out.

"If you really wanna jump, I'm going with you."

Izaya warily watched the larger man with accusing eyes. He suspected Shizuo of trying to pull some trick over him as if the idiot even contained the mental capacity to outsmart him.

Tch... well...

Maybe he already had by the way he had him fooled all of these years.

But then...

What about the name calling? And the violence? What about the blood? The bruises?

Every insult Shizuo had ever thrown at Izaya may as well have been a fact. It came with the title of being one of Ikebukuro's most dangerous figures. And even though it hurt to hear such negative things said about his person - coming from the humans he loved no less - it never hurt worse than when the blond said them; leaving his heart to its eternal ache. Sometimes, he felt as though it was barely beating.

Now, it felt like two-thousand volts of electricity had brought it back to life against its will. This, alone, was enough to have Izaya desiring death over whatever he and Shizuo could become.

An unstoppable force of two polar opposites? Or would the combined power collapse on itself?

Cowardly as it was, the informant would have rather ended it before it began, as if to lessen the pain of ideas which were mere assumptions. Possibilities; not promises. And nothing more.

With his mind set on this decision, it finally sunk into his counterpart's brain. Shizuo was finally seeing the picture he had failed to see all along, and regretted wholeheartedly. However, the bodyguard was still a firm believer that no matter what Izaya did, the universe made sure it had some effect on him. Without that revelation, he would not have realized the truth to his feelings, let alone the need to say them out loud.

So, like children often do whilst immersed in a favorite board game, the basic set of rules could stay the same, and Shizuo would force his own readjustments, even if that meant losing as well.

Life simply wasn't worth living alone.

And there was nobody else.

Just Izaya.

"Why would you want to do such a blasphemous thing?" Izaya sneered, attempting to conceal is wide-eyed shock as the man below him threw him for a whirl.

"I don't. At all," Shizuo insisted, "But if I have to..."

"You don't! You don't have to!"

"Then get down!"

"No!" the raven stubbornly persisted to stay precariously put on the building's ledge.

"Then I'm coming with you."

Making his point, the blond stepped up beside his opposite, keeping a brave face as the dizzying sight forty-eight stories below tightened his stomach into burning knots. Ignoring them, he refused to show fear while the tremors running through Izaya became more obvious when he took his hand.

The brunet's fingertips were icy, a touch which made Shizuo shiver when they laced with his own. If he couldn't save the informant, hopefully this would be comforting to him.

Izaya was out of retorts. Void of excuses. He had never been able to make Shizuo listen to him before, which had only become more obvious in these broken, unsure moments. He couldn't live a life of regret, wishing he had told this man how he felt from the start. He couldn't deal with the pain of wishing he could go back - to change this screwed up mess. To make it something beautiful.

It was too late for that now.

"Ready when you are," Shizuo said, a promise in his golden eyes as their gleam reflected the stars.

Taking a final moment to contemplate this situation, Izaya nodded, positive that it had to be this way; that if they were to be together at all and make amends for their lives' foolishness, this was how to do it.

Tokyo's most hated lover, crashing to his death with the city's beloved legend - a man who could never learn to love himself.

Waiting for the proper moment, Izaya tightened his grip on Shizuo's strong hand. With his back toward the city he drew in a comfortable breath and gracefully leaned into the wind.

There is no sensation in the world quite like falling; no rush that makes the human heart beat in quite the same rhythm. Comparing it to a roller coaster doesn't do the experience justice. Roller coasters, fast as they may be, are controlled – engineered to perfection to give the passenger a rush, but deep in that person's heart, they know they aren't mere moments away from death. They aren't taking their last breath of air.

This is what Izaya concluded as the earth's gravitational pull shot set him toward solid ground. He felt about as weightless as he felt heavy, controlled by terror and relief. Unable to escape, he accepted his fate, hoping that the collision would be quick. Painless. Yet, he still had a long way down.

Glancing above him, a masochistic grin spread across his hollow face. At least he was not alone in these fleeting moments of his bipolar life.

Shizuo did his best to not think about dying. Instead, he tried to clear his mind of all current thoughts, if only to fill it with the happiest memories from his lifetime - having a brother as amazing as Kasuka, knowing he was not completely misunderstood as Tom looked out for him, Celty being his best friend… but through it all, he settled his gaze on Izaya and accepted the past.

He would have rather lived their life of violent pirouettes than never be the center of the raven's attention at all. What was there to regret?

Pulling himself closer to Izaya, he took the lithe creature in his arms. Those garnet spheres were glazed over, too jaded to care anymore, but still wearing that clandestine smile.

For some reason, as the informant looked into the saffron eyes of his enemy, he felt warm, as if he knew every word the blond was thinking, and Shizuo was reading him, too. Words unspoken came alive in their irises, which were only thin rings of color compared to their widening black pupils. An equal calm settled over the two. The words they had not so easily expressed came alive, issuing apologies through tender gazes, fixated - determined not to see anything else.

Whatever life they could have had vanished in an instant. All that remained was the now.

Izaya could not help himself.

Plummeting through the air, the raven lost all sense of time as he buried his long fingers in sandy tresses, much softer than he had ever imagined. With Shizuo's arms hooked around is torso, he felt safe. Invincible. Quite possibly immortal. The sound of air rushing past his ears disappeared, drowning him in a tranquil silence.

For once, he truly had nothing to say, and judging by the body guard's locked gaze, he had said everything he needed to already.

'He's never looked so perfect,' Izaya thought to himself.

And before he could stop himself, before they were captured by the hands of death, he felt his smile transform into something honest, carefree, and gentle as he closed the space between his lips and Shizuo's.

The blond responded instantaneously, deepening the saccharine kiss; dragging a strong, forceful tongue over his counterpart's lower lip.

Sweet, melancholy perfection.

Izaya did not make him wait for entrance; nor did he make him fight or beg. He welcomed it, loving the way he could drink in that tender heat and feel it run down the back of his throat, straight to his racing heart. It was unlike anything he had ever imagined, though better than all he had hoped for.

Was it wrong to be this happy before the end of their existence?

Was it wrong to feel he had not lived until these final moments? That his entire life's adventures could not equate to this one perfect moment where time would actually slow down for him?

They were about to die - about to end their reign as creatures more terrifying than any yakuza at barely twenty-four-years-old. Just kids in the eyes of many.

But this one feeing...

The raven moaned lightly, tangling his tongue with the monster's; hoping he would still have this feeling of dominant nips and perfect kisses down to the very last fraction of a second. For he had never been so thirsty for anything - or anyone - in his life.

His lonely nightmare was finally over.

Mortality never tasted so sweet.


Rubbing his eyes, Izaya cursed himself for what he was about to do; inwardly gagging at how vulnerable he probably looked to any of the thugs undoubtedly hiding in alleyways in this part of town.

At just past two in the morning, he shuddered at his own irrationality.

Attempting to look either more discrete or more shady - he was not sure which - for his own defenses, he begrudgingly pulled his gray hood up over his head, keeping his crimson gaze low to the ground in the hopes that his glasses, messy hair, and the butterfly bandage on his left cheek would be enough of a disguise to deflect conflict.

Walking briskly toward his destination, he hugged his sweatshirt close to his body, focusing on its cottony warmth, regretting that he hadn't changed out of the mesh black shorts into some jeans.

He had acted impulsively for the seventh time that month, not even bothering to get himself properly dressed before slipping into some seldom-worn sneakers for the walk.

As wrong as it felt, this act of insanity made him some kind of comfortable.

Avoiding any dark, ominous shadows, he slipped through the streets relatively unnoticed, tightly clutching his switchblade, which he had stashed in his hoodie's pocket.

"Shitty neighborhood," he grumbled, glancing at the run-down building in front of him.

The apartment complex was nothing compared to his loft in Shinjuku. He almost couldn't believe he had walked here... seven times. Was he not above these living conditions?

Paint flaking from the plaster. Cracks in the cement. Broken railings on the staircase. This place didn't even have an elevator, resembling a cheap American motel rather than a chain of homes in Ikebukuro, of all places.

Climbing the stairs to the fourth floor, Izaya counted the doors as he passed them, until there was nothing more to count.

A nervous shiver ran through him as he stared at the last door on the end. Swallowing what remained of his dwindling pride he knocked several times and waited.

Midnight's chilling wind blew his hood from his head, attacking his hair as he considered giving up. The feeling presented him with a subtle fright, bringing back memories he wished he could forget; yet always haunted his sensitive mind. He was acting ridiculous, he realized, leaning against the railing which framed the building's fourth floor.

"Again?" a voice droned, barely startling the raven.

He had not heard the door open.

"Yeah," he scoffed as an insult to himself more than the other. "My apologies. It would appear that I simply cannot help myself..."

"It's that dream again, isn't it?"

Izaya turned to face the other voice with a sick smile. "This time... you went with me."

"I did what…?"

"And kissed me all the way down," he added with a reminiscent grin.

"Izaya, you can't keep showing up like this," the exasperated blond groaned, hanging himself in the doorway.

"Why not?" the brunet wondered.

Shizuo grimaced. "Because. You can't dump somebody when they tell you they love you, and then expect them to take you back just because you're having nightmares."

"Tch. I don't expect you to take me back, Shizu-chan," Izaya rolled his claret eyes to hide the lie within them.

His opponent saw straight through him. "Then why are you here? Why do you keep coming back?"

The informant's smile faltered slightly. "You keep letting me in."

Still positioned in the doorway, Shizuo used his free arm to push the door open, making room for the smaller man to slip past him. Izaya took the offer, delicately sliding through.

"What happened to your face?" the monster asked with truly concerned, honey eyes.

The brunet chuckled lightly. "Accidentally cut myself when I woke up."

Bemused, Shizuo closed the door behind them, pushing his enemy further inside his apartment. "A-are you sleeping with your switchblade now?"

Izaya didn't respond. Instead, he kicked off his shoes and threw himself on the couch.

'That's a yes,' Shizuo thought to himself. "It's just a fucking nightmare. Let it go!"

"A nightmare that keeps bringing me back to you?" the brunet raised a brow, ready to challenge this 'Just a Dream' hypothesis.

Grabbing a fresh pack of cigarettes and his lighter from the coffee table, Shizuo plopped down beside his ex and lit the stick. After a few drags, he decided, "Maybe you oughtta get help or some shit."

Izaya appeared incredulous by the suggestion, displaying his distaste for the idea with a dangerous glare.

"Not like you don't need it," Shizuo grunted. "You're already bipolar."

"That has nothing to do with it."

"Sure it does. One minute, you hate my guts for saying the 'wrong thing at the wrong time' and the next, you're trying to weasel your way back in with these stupid dreams. But we both know that as soon as you wake up in the morning, I'll have pissed you off in my sleep. It's not even like you have the worst case ever, either. It's just you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You can't keep a stable relationship because of you, Izaya. It's how you are. We both know I didn't do anything wrong."

"Well you're doing something wrong now, idiot," the informant hissed, offended by Shizuo's choice of words, refusing to acknowledge their truth.

"Like...?"

"Oh, I don't know. You say you love me, so yeah. I dumped you. But I realized it was stupid, and now - even though you still 'love' me - you won't take me back?"

Cynical chuckles broke through the blond's hardened, angry exterior. Wasn't the parasite beside him supposed to be a bit of a genius? This was becoming ridiculous. "Right, because I realized I'd be better off moving on with my life instead of torturing myself with you."

Izaya stared at him, looking absolutely scathed by the remark.

Shizuo hung his weary head. "Iz…It'd be better for you, too."

"You keep letting me in, Shizu-chan."

The monster sighed. "I can't just suddenly stop loving you. You know I can't."

"Or maybe you shouldn't stop at all."

"You don't want it."

Izaya frowned as a sharp pain pierced his chest. "But... you came with me."

"If you're really having dreams about us killing ourselves together, you need to go see a doctor. And not Shinra, but a real doctor."

"Why?" Izaya shot, "Because you really think I'd throw myself off a building over you?"

"At this point?" Shizuo raised a brow, "Wouldn't surprise me."

"Dick."

"Here we go..." the blond muttered, taking a final drag from his cigarette before ending it's life in a nearby ashtray. "I'm gonna choose to ignore that comment."

"I don't think you get it," Izaya insisted; venom dripping from his words by his tone alone. "You went with me."

"You said that already."

"You definitely don't get it," the raven huffed, impatiently rolling his eyes for the umpteenth time.

"What is there to get?"

"I let you come. I wanted you to. It's a metaphor."

"It was a dream. Not real life."

"But what if I want it to be real life? What if I want to be with you?"

"You only want what you can't have until it's finally given to you, Izaya. I've wanted to be with you since high school, and you kept running away until I gave up. You're too fickle."

"Try again then!" the brunet insisted, unwilling to lose another round.

It was the same dream every night until this night. The same argument. The same confusion from both sides, in which he could hear Shizuo's thoughts in his head. And it all felt so real playing both parts… But this time had been different. This time, instead of walking away as Izaya fell forty-eight stories to his mental death, the blond had chosen to die with him.

While not a superstitious human being, the informant was sure that meant something.

"I know you want me back," he stated after a long silence. "I know you do."

"Of course I do," Shizuo nodded. "I just don't think I should."

"Why not?"

"I don't wanna get hurt again. You're a danger to us both."

"And me showing up here every few days isn't killing you?" the raven analyzed the tortured expression painted into Shizuo's heavenly orbs.

"You kidding?" Shizuo snorted, "It's driving me crazy, you greedy little shit."

"So take me back," Izaya commanded, "I'm ready to be in a solid relationship with you."

Completely defeated by his heart's own selfish desires, the body guard found himself unable to continue to say no. All he wanted - all he thought about - was the dark creature to his right. It had been horrible being dumped by him, if only to have him appear on his doorstep three weeks later with weeping ruby eyes.

Izaya had begged for entrance into the small apartment, repeatedly apologizing for the way he had reacted to Shizuo uttering those sensitive words; meaning each one for him. It had frightened him to the point of scaring him away while he tried to fathom the idea of somebody being in love with him. Yet, until the last visit, he had refused to accept such heartfelt confessions. He was being irrationally stubborn. Thus, it was decided on Shizuo's part that it was better to stay broken up in an attempt to move on to something healthier in their now separated lives.

Clearly, the plan had failed with Izaya returning all too often considering the unwarranted breakup was his responsibility.

The blond sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "One more shot. And that's it."

Izaya gasped excitedly, sitting straight up in reaction to the words. The light in those rare irises was almost strong enough to eliminate the puffy bags beneath his un-rested eyes.

"But there are gonna be rules."

The brunet's dark gaze turned into narrow slits. Though, before he could begin his long retort about how "this is what he meant by being caged" Shizuo started off on his tangent of requirements.

"One: we're seeing a doctor tomorrow," the blond stated matter-of-factly. "No excuses. This up and down shit has to stop and if you have to be medicated, so be it. Deal?"

Izaya muttered a few long curses before he released an aggravated huff. "Fine."

"Two: you don't get to make all of the big decisions. Since you're so damn indecisive, if you wanna break up, we're gonna talk about it. You don't get to announce we're over and walk out on me."

"I can do that."

"Good. Three: no more sleeping with your fucking knife."

Shizuo reached over, brushing his thumb across the slice in Izaya's porcelain skin. It was a depressing sight to his desperate gold eyes. He never wanted to see the smaller man hurt. And to know he was suffering from suicidal nightmares pained him even more.

"Is that it?" Izaya wondered, hopeful that there were no more conditions to their relationship.

"No. I get to tell you I love you. And you can't run off or shut me out when I do."

"That might be asking too much," the raven scoffed, pulling away from Shizuo's touch.

It was useless. The monster wanted him way too much in those unsure moments, pulling him into his chest with those strong arms. "We'll work on it."

"Ne?"

"Besides, Izaya. You're the one dreaming in metaphors. Not me."

Releasing a sigh, Izaya gave in, nuzzling into Shizuo's strong chest and absorbing the larger man's sweet, warm scent. He could tell the blond was determined to make this work, even if that did mean going against his better judgment.

Izaya couldn't blame him for being hesitant to reignite the fire that had never actually died. In all fairness, he had caused their relationship more emotional turmoil than any normal couple would be able to survive. Most probably would have snapped and killed each other by now. However, they were used to throwing themselves into illogical madness.

Even after leaving the blond, Izaya still managed to return, if only to vent his frustrations about these stupid nightmares in relation to dying alone. And even though he knew Shizuo would have loved nothing more than to push him away, he was completely lacking in the will to do so based on the simplicity of his heart's complicated desires, causing him to take him in for the last seven times simply so Izaya would not have to sleep alone.

Agonizing did not even begin to define this Hell, leading both to believe that the heavens above likely mocked them in their wake.

It was absolutely exhausting. Izaya's feelings were strong, swirled together like a raging hurricane. For all of the fear encasing his heart, he wanted nothing more than to clarify his feelings, terrified that as soon as he did Shizuo might clip his wings.

These thoughts, he knew, were all unfair. Ultimately selfish beyond reason; leaving him to despise himself for his own uncontrolled sentiments.

"Just don't put me in a cage," he pleaded, clutching at the white fabric of his boyfriend's t-shirt; feeling safe for the first time in nearly two months.

Tears beaded in his bloodlust eyes, only to be soaked into his lover's clothing as they fell.

"I could never…" was the blond's honest reply, carefully leaning forward to plant a kiss on top of the brunet's head.

"Promise me, Shizu-chan."

"I swear."

"Don't… don't hold me back."

"I won't."

Knowing well that Izaya feared being deprived of absolute sovereignty, Shizuo easily accepted long ago that they would never find themselves in a normal relationship. Simply the idea of pinning down the brunet riddled him with guilt.

Of course the lithe being in his arms was full of an indefinable insanity. Calling him bipolar wouldn't even cover the half of it. Shizuo knew what he was getting himself into, and what's more is that he did not want out of it. He was contented to be in love with this madness. More than grateful - beyond deserving - to be the epicenter of Izaya's dreams, even as he tried to escape him. It was a serious sign to the man, one he could not take for granted. One he could never let go.

Izaya yawned, shifting gently to make himself more comfortable; ready to escape his nightmares for good knowing that the man holding him was his.

"Thank you… Shizu-chan…" he muttered, closing his velvety lids over jewel-like spheres.

Silently, Shizuo wondered if he would ever hear the words he spoke so truthfully reflected back at him in that arrogant, all-knowing voice. That voice which was music to his ears. Running his fingers through ebony tresses, while the smaller creature was lulled to sleep by the loving beat of his heart, he thought it best not to ask, but rather to hear it in time.

During a time when the raven's feathers were not so ruffled by midnight terrors.

After all, Izaya was the one who had dreamt of falling. And this time, he had allowed himself to fall with Shizuo, telling both of them everything the rare bird could not put into words of his own. Shizuo had understood the message instantaneously, feeling a happy titter in his chest while Izaya fumbled to express himself in a way that only he could.

"Stupid metaphors," the blond scoffed with a gentle smile tugging on his lips.

Scooping a sleeping raven into his arms, he effortlessly carried him off to bed, ready for whatever insanity was to come.


Did you ever think we would get this high?
Pull back the sheets to find the ending that you prayed for.

Now head towards the light, the dark has no place here
Now head towards the light.