Unintentional Affection (3/6)
Title: Unintentional Affection
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Shizaya, with mentions of ShinraxCelty, Namie->Seiji, and KasukaxInsight. Cameos from a good number of the characters
Rating: NC-17 and then some
Warnings: language, graphic sex, points of sporadic silliness, changing viewpoints, Izaya…No matter your sensibilities, we have a warning for you!
Summary: Izaya -bored of the alleyway sex routine he has fallen into with Shizuo- concludes he needs to bring back the good old days of simple psychological warfare. This plan is flawless...
For this prompt on the kink meme: “I know there's a million requests for this pairing but I am humbly requesting one more since I didn't see another one anywhere else like it....Shizuo/Izaya -- Shizuo and Izaya have gotten into a routine of rough sex after fighting and it's become habitual. The kink? Nothing turns Izaya on more than some tender, ~making-love~-esque sex. Make it happen and try to make it somehow IC anon! Shizuo tops obvi.”
Shizuo really wasn’t sure which emotion was winning out: murderous fury that Shinra apparently had a stash of naked pictures of Izaya (what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck), or pure and unadulterated horniness at each additional photo that flaunted smooth white skin. The entire situation was uncomfortable for him. His arousal for Izaya was usually a brutal, spur of the moment occasion. He really didn’t know how to handle this sweeping, slow kindling need that was now mounting at an alarming rate and gaining fuel by the events that had taken place over the last week and a half.
More than anything, Shizuo was so goddamn frustrated that he couldn’t even talk to Izaya in order to reestablish his well-seated hatred for the other man. When this frustration was stacked on top of the fact that all of Ikebukuro was bending over backwards to make his life easier, and Kasuka kept calling with the most emotionally confounding conversations he had ever had in his life, Shizuo just wanted to push it all away, carry Izaya off to a secluded area, and fuck him until life made sense again. He was aware of the irony: he had spent a good portion of his life chasing Izaya out of Ikebukuro, and now that he wanted to see him more than any other person, the louse was nowhere to be found. Shizuo wanted to punch irony in the face.
With a frustrated groan, his eyes darted back down to the most recent picture he had flipped to. Izaya was fully clothed, but his tongue was snaking obscenely around the icing of a cupcake as his eyes shot a sultry look at the photographer. Shizuo’s cock had some very strong opinions about the subtext of this picture, and with a defeated growl, Shizuo slipped his hand into his pants.
He fought off a whimper with the first tug of flesh, envisioning that dexterous tongue tracing along the bottom of his cock. He envisioned Izaya’s hot breath ghosting along the moistened skin, gentle puffs and wet kisses marching up to Shizuo’s straining head. Shizuo flipped the page of the photo album, and groaned as he was greeted by photo-Izaya, coyly sucking on his fingers.
The Izaya of Shizuo’s fantasy slurped over his dick with equal enthusiasm. Shizuo stifled a scream.
---
Izaya was already a horny, twitching mess. With pants kicked carelessly to the ground, he was straining up into his own hand, thrusting and cursing as sweat trickled down his back. Pleasure pushed through him in waves as, eyes squeezed shut, he thought about the past week. A pictures of Shizuo smiling broadly at a small stuffed elephant flashed through his mind, only to be replaced with Shizuo holding a small potted orchid in wonder. Shizuo laughing with Tanaka Tom, Shizuo trailing a finger for his new goldfish to chase, Shizuo frowning in concentration as he tried to outrace the melting ice cream of his cone.
Fuck. Shizuo licking at that trail of liquid white…Izaya let out a whimper and squirmed against his hand, cursing that Shizuo wasn’t here to fill him to the brim. Izaya’s hand wasn’t enough- his ass ached for the intrusion, the thrusts, the wanton moans…
His eyes flashed to a desk drawer with dawning elation. When rumor had first started that he and Shizuo were sleeping together, Namie had made him the gift of a ridiculous dildo. It had been meant as a barb, seeing as she thought the rumor was just that. “For when you start missing his cock too much,” she had said with a gloating smile. Oh Namie, bless your vindictive little head. He tumbled gracelessly out of his chair, clawing at the drawer with one hand while the other contended with his heavy, swollen dick. There was a great crash as he ripped the drawer off of its track, spilling papers and cards and pens across the floor. Trembling in anticipation, he groped through the mess until his fingers fumbled across silicone. Almost sobbing with relief, he lifted the dildo and pressed his cheek against the cool length.
I want you to suck me off whispered a voice through his mind that sounded suspiciously like Shizuo’s. Whimpering once more, Izaya licked around the pliable tip before swallowing down the length of the toy. In his head, Shizuo’s moans played through the room.
Hollowing his cheeks against the length, Izaya gave another squeeze to his penis before he started thrusting.
Ung, so good. Uh, suck harder. That’s it. Shit. Want you so much. Wanna be in you-
With a slurp and a trail of saliva, the dildo popped from his mouth, glistening and ready as Izaya’s dick pushed out a frantic bead of precum. Readjusting, he leaned against the surface of his desk and brought his arm behind him, seating the tip of the dildo against his ass.
“Shizu-chan,” he whispered weakly, before thrusting back against the toy, his cry meshing with a deep, fabricated groan.
---
Panting and mewing, Shizuo’s hand fumbled over his cock, blurring with the frenzied pumping as his toes dug into the carpet and stomach rippled in serial contractions. He teetered on the painful cusp of orgasm, so close. So close that his muscles ached and his vision swam. So close that his blood roared in his ears. So close that he could swear that he could feel Izaya’s tongue curling around his dick. His chest heaved as his eyes crawled over the pictures- Izaya panting and unfocused, Izaya with legs spread wide, Izaya flushed-face.
A furious groan escaped Shizuo as his dick throbbed for release, sobbing tiny beads of precum than hung from his tip in a thick glistening strand. So fucking close. His hand smeared through the slick juice as he groped at his balls, pushing…pushing….
Fuck, he needed Izaya, he needed to hear him, needed to…
One hand shot out to fumble with his phone, drunkenly punching numbers as the other continued to tug frantically at swollen skin.
This was an awful idea, truly idiotic, but he needed, needed-
---
Izaya’s cheek was against the cool surface of his desk where he licked and kissed and sucked at the fogging glass. He was almost sobbing for release, pushing back violently against the dildo as Shizuo’s phantom words echoed in his ear.
So tight. Fuck you feel so good around my dick. I just want to pound into you until-
Izaya’s phone vibrated somewhere to his left, and in his haze of lust, he swore to eviscerate whoever the fuck it was that had decided to call right then. It was possibly the last coherent thought he had before his was lost in the heat of his own hand, the scraping press of the dildo, and the whispers of fantasy-Shizuo in his ear.
Fuck, I’m so close. Izaya. Izaya. I love you I love you I love you
Eyes flying open in shock, Izaya splattered his cum across the glass.
---
Shizuo’s breath was coming out is harsh wheezes as his balls tightened in blinding pain. He was so damn close just a little…
The ringing stopped as the phone clicked.
“This is Orihara Izaya. I am unavailable-“
With a cry, Shizuo sprayed across the glistening pages of the photo album. As the jets of semen tapered down to small leaks that crawled over his trembling fist, he collapsed into his chair and simply continued to squeeze at his tingling flesh in stunned silence.
Panting until he felt he had gulped up all the air in the room, Shizuo came down from his high and analyzed exactly what had just happened. The absolute need, the frenzy, Izaya’s voice. Izaya’s voice.
A very quiet, collected corner of his mind informed him that he was in deep shit.
Cracking open his eyes, he looked down in exhaustion at the cum-covered pages of the photo album, where a bit of semen was crawling down Izaya’s grinning cheek. Shizuo’s cock gave an enthusiastic twitch. His forehead hit the table as he groaned.
---
The remnants of Izaya moan trembled against the walls of the open study until it was nothing more than a whisper of pleasure among the books. Chest heaving, Izaya blinked unseeingly at the viscous flecks of white painted across his desk top. Unnoticed, the dildo slipped from his hole with a small sucking plop. Somehow, through the haze of the afterglow, Shizuo’s fabricated voice continued to echo in his mind.
I love you I love you I love you.
This could be a problem.
~*~
The fifth time she heard the noise (something between a hum of interest and a groan of frustration), Namie threw down the piles of papers she had been filing and glared at Izaya. Usually, the aggravating man was amply aware of the fact he was pissing her off, and would greet her exasperation with a broad smile. In this instance, however, he remained motionlessly staring at the ridiculous children’s program he was watching, curled against the armrest of the couch and absently chewing on a corner of the pillow he held clutched to his chest.
Now Namie was used to Izaya having a host of quirks- she deserved a medal for the amount of batshittery she tolerated each day- but he was acting odd even by modified standards. A bit like a sick animal, in fact, if the way he kept trying to curl into himself was any indication. She briefly entertained the notion of taking him to the vet, but concluded he wasn’t worth the overhead charge.
It wasn’t like she cared or anything. She just wanted to know if whatever the hell was wrong with him was contagious, lest she accidently bring it home to Seiji.
As she watched, he fidgeted a bit and mumbled something to himself with an unfocused look. At length he squeezed his eyes shut and let out another of the odd little intrigued/frustrated noises.
“WHAT.” If he had finally decided to go crazy, fine, but he could at least have the decency to do it quietly.
He flinched at the growled question and looked at her in askance. She wondered if he had slept at all the previous night; he looked decidedly peaky. And kind of pitiful, actually, but she recovered from that small bout of sympathy almost immediately.
“Did you have a specific question, Namie, or is this an exercise in rhetorical shouting?”
Her fingers dug into the table she was sitting at as she resisted the urge to lob a paperweight at his head. “What is wrong with your desk?” she finally growled, pointing at the spot where he spent the vast majority of his time when he wasn’t skipping around the city, tormenting middle schoolers. He hadn’t so much as glanced at it for the entire morning. His already pale skin blanched. Namie’s gut instinct was that of a shark scenting blood. “Something the matter, Izaya? I thought you said that was ‘where all the magic happens.’” She was going to continue taunting him, but got distracted by the flush that was suddenly flooding his face and the odd little “hrk” noise he had just emitted.
Now this was fun. There was two-faced, and then there was Izaya. In all the time she had known him, she had never seen a single emotion on his face that he didn’t want her to see. Now, out of the blue, he was wide-eyed and flustered with mussed hair and the general air of someone who had been hit by multiple buses. She wondered if he had been drugged. She then wondered if she could find the camcorder before he came to his senses.
“I have simply decided to take the day off. You can do that when you are your own boss.” The fact that he had replied with a statement instead of a biting retort was perhaps the strongest argument that there was something seriously wrong with him.
Everything seemed to click, and she slammed her hand down on the table, once more making him jump. Izaya was a coward at heart, and would run from anything he didn’t have the upper hand in, despicable man. She refused to try and work while he hid under furniture with his tail between his legs.
“Just go to Ikebukuro. The only one who can get your panties this twisted up is Heiwajima, so go and fix whatever it is that is making you more obnoxious than usual. You’re driving me crazy.”
“You reached that destination ages ago,” he retaliated half-heartedly. It was such a lame attempt that she didn’t even bother with the effort of being offended. Instead, she stood up, marched over to the couch, and yanked him over the back of it by the wrist. With an exclaimed curse, he was able to twist and land on his feet, but it was a near thing. Good, his reflexes were still intact. That made it less likely that Shizuo would be able to kill him.
Not that she cared. It was just that if he died, she wouldn’t have a salary to support Seiji with.
“Go. Fix it.” She demanded, giving him little shoves towards the exit. There was something extremely cathartic about slamming the door closed in his shocked face.
Stupid idiot. He was doing love a disservice by denying it.
---
It was a beautiful evening in Ikebukuro, with sun casting an orange tint to the leaves in the park. Tom walked beside a ridiculously placid Shizuo and enjoyed the evening breeze. Life was good lately. Today specifically had gone without a hitch, aided largely by the fact Shizuo now got the job done by simply looking at their clientele instead of beating them into incoherency. The weight of the cash at his side spoke of how well the new tactic worked.
It was just as he was thinking about suggesting dinner that Tom was snapped out of his pleasant musings. In front of him was a… decidedly odd sight.
Orihara Izaya stood under a nearby tree where the ground at his feet pulsed with pigeons. As Tom watched, he absently pegged another bird in the head with a piece of bread and observed the ensuing chaos with a distracted frown. He batted unseeingly at the cooing bullets that periodically bee lined for the large crust he held in his hands.
Tom paused, glancing worriedly at Shizuo. He had been so calm over the last few days -Tom was truly happy for his friend. If there was anything that could put that newfound serenity to the test, however, it was Orihara Izaya. Predictably, Shizuo’s face contorted into a mask of rage. Right as Tom was preparing to unite his face with the palm of his hand, however, Shizuo faltered. What’s this?
“Think of what Kasuka said,” Shizuo was whispering to himself. “Don’t focus on the rage, focus on the intensity of the emotion…”
Tom really had no idea how to interpret that statement. Before he could give it proper thought though, Shizuo was walking calmly forward, hands in his pockets. The people who caught sight of him gave a quick backward glance, spotted Izaya, and scattered like a flock of sheep caught between two wolves. The sudden mass exodus dragged Izaya’s attention away from the persistent pigeon barrage and directly to Shizuo.
Tom suddenly had a ridiculous urge for popcorn, knowing full well that if either man could hear his thoughts, he would be dead before dark. He couldn’t help it: the encounter was playing out like a drama that had just thrown in a spontaneous plot twist. At catching sight of Shizuo, Izaya’s eyes widened to an unnatural extent, amplifying his already young appearance. In place of the characteristic sneer, his mouth was in a small, surprised “o”.
At this odd sight, Shizuo faltered, stopping short of the other man. Tom would have given all of their earnings for the day to have seen Shizuo’s face. Izaya’s reaction was probably even more confounding for Shizuo than it was for Tom.
At length, Shizuo closed the distance with a few more hesitant steps. When he stopped, he glanced off to the side, burying his hand in his hair with a nervous gesture.
What?
“Izaya. Wouldyouliketohavedinner?”
What?
Tom continued watching in bewildered silence as Izaya attempted his trademark grin. He really only achieved queasy nervousness. “Sure Shizu-chan. I could go for some food.” They awkwardly stared at each other for several moments before Shizuo reached out and gave a soft tug to Izaya’s wrist. His hand quickly retreated back into a pocket once they were both walking, the width of three people separating them.
Tom could do nothing but stand and stare in the now-empty park. Had that really just happened? He looked around for someone else to confirm with, and only found a pigeon giving him a predatory once-over.
Shaking his head, Tom withdrew his phone and sent out the news, hoping someone would have a logical explanation. As Shizuo had asked in public, Tom doubted he would mind the Dollars knowing about the event.
His phone hadn’t even made it back into his pocket before the screen lit up with 27 new messages.
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