"Shizu-chan, do girls have cooties?" Izaya had been pondering this question for a while. He was sitting on the swing in the playground while Shizuo pushed him back and forth.
He didn't like girls at all, and he never would. Unless of course, Shizuo got a sex change. No one knew he was gay, heck, he barely even understood it himself. But he knew he didn't like girls the way he did Shizuo, but he didn't know why not.
"No Izaya, they don't. Why would you think that?" Sometimes Shizuo didn't understand Izaya, but he still cared for Izaya's questions, and he loved him, although Izaya didn't know it.
"Well, guys are supposed to like girls, right? And the girls like the guys back? So why don't I like the girls?"
Shizuo knew how Izaya felt, he felt it too. He wasn't sure how to answer the question, but he was gonna take a shot at it. He had to, it was for his best friend, his true love. Even if the flea didn't love him back, he would do anything for him.
"Everyone is different. Even me. A lot of girls like girls, and a lot of boys like boys. It's just who they are. It's who you are. It's who I am."
Izaya thought about this for a little bit, and then he said something that Shizuo thought Izaya would never tell him.
"Shizzy, I love you. I've loved you since the first day of pre-school. When you walked up with your Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pack-pack and your blonde shaggy hair in your face, carrying your lunchbox and said hi to me."
He was speechless. He couldn't believe the flea remembered that. It was last year, when they were four. He himself didn't even remember. All he remembered was them laying on the rugs at naptime whispering to each other and when Izaya fell asleep, watching him in his peaceful slumber.
"Izaya, I love you, too. I never thought you felt about me the same way."
He stopped the swing from swinging and stood in front of Izaya and kissed him on the cheek. This was the best day ever.
The bell rang. It was time to go inside and learn the ABC song. The whole time they sung, they sat next to each other holding hands under the table.