PART 11 OVERFLOW
DURARARA!! KINK MEME PT.11 OVERFLOW
This post is only for new and continuing fics from part 11! Please do not post new requests here.
ATTN all authors moving fics to this part:
Please put the original URL to your request somewhere in the first part of the fic, just so people a) know what it's for and b) to make things easier for russia_sushi-tachi. Thank you ( Read more... )
This post is only for new and continuing fics from part 11! Please do not post new requests here.
ATTN all authors moving fics to this part:
Please put the original URL to your request somewhere in the first part of the fic, just so people a) know what it's for and b) to make things easier for russia_sushi-tachi. Thank you ( Read more... )
A/N: Alright, continuing Slant, a fill for the part 11 prompt here: http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=24628845#t24628845 - here's hoping that this chapter is a fun read, too!
There’s something wrong.
Izaya can sense that pretty clearly - has for a while now, starting last night and it’s only gotten worse with the passing of twenty-four long hours - and the problem’s not in the whisper of rice cooking or the sharp edge of a knife slapping the cutting board in Shizuo’s kitchen. It’s not the difficulty Izaya has in reaching the counter from his chair, either, and it’s not that he keeps forgetting what to do next because he can’t help noticing Shizuo working with all the confidence of a serious chef.
Heck, the problem’s not even that - the surprise of Shizuo being what amounts to a better cook than Izaya - and the informant’s happy, really, even if their meal will be mostly the fruit of Shizuo’s efforts. Izaya can at least boast of having helped, and then this is just another moment of almost-nearness that should be able to provide him with at least a vague sense of comfort.
He just showered - whole place reeks of flea, he’d grumbled beforehand, and Izaya’d flushed and glanced away to hide just how much he liked the idea that his scent was mingling with Shizuo’s in some grand gesture of foolishly romantic symbolism - and his hair looks unsurprisingly good wet, too. Izaya has to impose upon Shizuo to have his clothes changed and to take his own showers, which means that he’s - well, not accustomed to the physical proximity, but at the very least he’s sure already that the brute’s normal body temperature is about twenty degrees above that of a normal human’s.
Izaya’s kicking himself for the cliché even before he thinks to himself that Shizuo looks like he’s currently lingering at around fifteen extra degrees above that.
It’s just - the steam and Shizuo opening his mouth wide to enjoy the cool air - you always take such hot showers, Shizu-chan, and are you certain that you can afford that when you’re not even working? Shizuo’s already explained everything to his boss, of course, and there’s no problem there anymore but Izaya loves pushing Shizuo’s buttons and Shizuo loves to react with little adorable glares and bitten-back fits of rage and that makes the provocation worth it.
He looks good in the messy, ugly clothes he wears around the house. He looks good with his hair all disheveled and the guard-down expressions he doesn’t mean to let his enemy see. Izaya likes the way Shizuo wants to be mad but can’t help letting the guilt show on his face every time he notices Izaya’s still-too-tight brace and the way he sometimes rubs at the limp flesh of his legs.
There’s no problem there, of course. Nothing wrong with a bit of eye candy in the midst of a lot of awkward embarrassment, but -
- it’s just…
It’s the quiet.
No - not that. Quiet makes sense here, but it’s usually the kind born of what’s supposed to be mutual dislike. It’s natural, which makes it comfortable.
This quiet is tense. There’s an extra heaviness in the air between them that feels anything but normal.
“Feeling okay?” Shizuo wonders blandly for the umpteenth time today. Izaya would be flattered if it weren’t for the lack of enthusiasm; it’s like the blonde’s just going through the motions of what he considers to be nothing more than a chore.
He doesn’t actually care, but he’s said it himself - a sick flea is an extra-annoying one.
Tough luck, Shizu-chan, the informant thinks with a strong hint of bitterness. That part of me’s not getting any better, and you can’t even summon up the nerve to make me leave. Guess we’re stuck like this, then, for as long as you’ll still put up with -
“Izaya.”
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His vision clears quickly as he blinks to dispel the silent monologue. He’s been doing that a lot, and it’s been getting him absolutely nowhere. He only does it because it’s the only way he knows how to vent his own frustration when speech and fits of inappropriate laughter or tears and purely childish tantrums would only ever humiliate him further in front of his Shizu-chan.
He hates everything about this, and he loves it all for what it is. He doesn’t stand a chance, but he can’t help hoping and nothing about Shizuo is helping that. He knows exactly how bad it would be for the brute to find out about his purely insane attraction to him, but something in Izaya likes dropping suicidal hints, anyway.
Another cliché: it’s really and truly eating him up inside.
He’s not used to it - not this - but he somehow manages to hide it all behind a practiced smile.
“That makes twenty-one times, Shizu-chan.”
Twenty-one times, already - feeling okay, are you doing alright, you’re not gonna keel over, are you - ?
The blonde looks taken aback. “What the hell - you’ve been counting?”
“Does it look like I have anything better to do?”
Normally, his response would have been a conversation-ender. Shizuo would have been prompted to grit his teeth or storm off and the distance between them would have been just as it always was.
So maybe Izaya wants Shizuo to answer him. Maybe he wants another conversation. A real one.
“Finish washing those,” the blonde suggests grumpily. He nods at the potatoes lying untouched in front of Izaya - practically at eye level, and yeah it’s hard but he’s already insisted that he be allowed to do this - before turning back to his own corner of the tiny kitchen.
Izaya smiles forlornly as he reaches up to resume his task. He’d like to keep the conversation going, but to do so now would be to force it.
He wants something… natural. Like hating Shizuo, but of course that’s been impossible for a long time now.
Like Shizuo hating me, he decides. Like that turning into something different. Black magic. Some kind of miracle.
It’ll never happen.
~
“It’s not bad at all, Shizu-chan,” Izaya murmurs approvingly as he leans in for another spoonful of curry. It’s not nearly as spicy as it should be, of course, but the flavor really is incredible.
It’s definitely better than Izaya’s own recipe.
“You helped,” Shizuo grumbles, and it’s not that he’s trying to be modest - no, it’s more like he’s just annoyed that Izaya would compliment him to begin with. He hasn’t so much as touched his own food, but he’s been staring hard at it for the past several minutes.
And so the distance grows…
“If you’re not hungry,” Izaya offers with a flippant grin, “I’d be happy to take care of that for you.”
He wouldn’t - doesn’t eat half as much as this brute probably could - but he’d take almost anything over the sight of Shizuo picking at nothing and refusing to speak for the next hour.
Shizuo just grunts, though, and finally picks up his spoon. He doesn’t look at Izaya and doesn’t appear to be enjoying the taste of what he’s eating even as he begins to shovel it mechanically into his mouth.
“That’s the second time,” Izaya finds himself sighing under his breath.
Shizuo twitches and finally raises his eyes to meet Izaya’s.
“The second time what?” he wonders suspiciously.
“I’m trying to have a conversation with Shizu-chan,” Izaya pouts before he can think to stop himself, “but you’re not cooperating at all. How do you make it in society with a personality like that, anyway?”
Shizuo blinks and slowly lowers his hand with its spoonful of curry back to the table. “Huh. Can’t believe you told me that I suck at stuff like that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Why’d you wanna talk to me, anyway?” Shizuo returns the challenge.
Izaya struggles with the heat that’s threatening to stain his cheeks again. “Even I can’t help it if the silence is more or less uncomfortable, Shizu-chan.”
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Shizuo stares at him for a long time before responding. “I couldn’t tell.”
Izaya lets his eyes convey his confusion. Shizuo sighs but doesn’t begrudge him another explanation.
“That you were trying to actually talk to me. It was almost the same as always…” The blonde hesitates, then, and lets his voice fade into nothing more than a quiet sigh. There’s a far-away look in his eyes, now, and to be honest it almost scares Izaya.
He’s slipping entirely out of reach…
The informant glances off to one side as his heart begins to thump desperately in his chest. “You’re thinking that I’ve changed, ne?”
“Well,” Shizuo admits, reaching up as his own face darkens to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. “At least explain yourself a little. There’s no point in hiding - y’know, things. I mean - because we have to be this close to each other for so long…”
Izaya winces as his chest tightens about his racing heart. “That’s just it, Shizu-chan. You’re just not used to things like this. Have you ever spent this much time so close to another person - let alone me?”
He’s making excuses. It might be because he’s scared - because he’s not the only one who’s different, because Shizuo is finally talking to him and because the conversation’s so quickly come to center on this topic and everything it entails.
Because Izaya’s lacked even the barest hint of control from word one.
Shizuo grits his teeth. He looks like he doesn’t want to answer, but he forces a response anyway because Izaya’s words are (probably) as unsatisfying as they are insulting. “You know there’s more to it than that, bastard.”
Of course he does, damn it all, and suddenly Shizuo’s comment seems full of fire. It stings and it aches and this freak of nature has a lot of nerve - so much nerve, more than he deserves to have and more than Izaya’s ever known when it comes to things like this. Shizuo has so much - to be so oblivious, to seem so intuitive, to understand without trying and to chase bliss in ignorance while Izaya’s one and only option lies in plunging into the fray -
“Think so?” Izaya finds himself hissing back. “If you ever figure it out, be sure to let me know.”
He’s an idiot. He’s such an idiot, but it’s no longer possible to take that back.
Impossibilities, he’s used to. Regret, too.
Shizuo surprises him one more time before excusing himself from the table. He frowns, nods and murmurs something about giving that some thought. He acts like he’s just accepted a legitimate challenge, and Izaya -
“Careful what you wish for - bastard flea.”
- well, the bad feeling’s just gotten a lot worse.
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Stay awesome!
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