♚ d i s c o r d ; ;

[If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were being nice.]

[How suspicious!  I wonder what your true motive really is?]

[Don’t tell me you’ve run out of things to say?]

...

     His initial reaction was to push the offending ad out of the way, but as the show he was watching had started to lag, his attention wandered elsewhere.  With a small frown he took the paper from Tem and scanned it briefly before tossing it aside.

For a moment, Tsukumoya stayed still. It took longer than he wanted to admit to find the courage to move backward and face Izaya again, but he managed to turn his nervous expression into something closer to a pout.

“Yes.”

His tone matched Izaya’s, and he took another large breath.

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     There was some relief when Tsukumoya buried his face again, and Izaya felt as though he could properly breathe.  When he’d put on the earrings he had only wanted Tsukumoya to notice them and make some kind of comment--it really hadn’t been asking too much.  But he had pushed until he learned much more than anticipated, and for a moment he was actually a little bit...scared.

     He hated the word: scared.  Orihara Izaya didn’t get scared.  Maybe surprised, maybe even worried.  But not scared.  Yet when his mind had gone blank, and the words wouldn’t come it was a horrible feeling, and he hated Tsukumoya a little for it.

     Which was why the man’s sudden, feeble attempt at ‘escape’ made things that much better.

     Tsukumoya was the one hiding, and as troublesome as that was it was normal.  Izaya could handle it without having to give it much thought.  He could even let himself feel just a little flustered by the compliment if he wanted to.

     Not that he was...

Was this really happening? Was Izaya really being this childish? The very idea of this pettiness was enough to make Tsukumoya’s hands shake, and he pushed away from Izaya roughly.

He stared at him, eyes narrowed and a frown etched into his features, before a look of determination passed over him.

“Fine.”

“I’ll tell you everything I’ve noticed. Stop me when i get to what you’re refusing to talk to me about.”

He took a deep breath and gripped Izaya’s shoulders more tightly, then rearranged himself on Izaya’s lap.

“The last week:”

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     There was something just a little terrifying about feeling so many things at once, about having the intense desire to say something snarky in response and being completely unable to.  All Izaya could do for a moment was just stare back at him mutely, each attempt to speak ending in instant failure.  Finally he gave up on it and kept his mouth closed, but he knew the damage had already been done.

     He had labored under the delusion that Tsukumoya had actually failed to notice since he had not said anything.  He had never expected the reverse to be true.  How had he noticed so much about him?  Even the hip injury he had been keeping silent about.  It wasn’t a bad injury, but it had been painful enough, and that meant no one was to know about it.  And yet Tsukumoya had caught on without any apparent effort.

     It took enormous focus and restraint to keep himself from reacting to the fingers touching his ear, and he felt suddenly very foolish for putting up such a fuss.  He felt angry with himself, but even angrier at Tsukumoya for being so stupid.  Of course he had been talking about the earrings--the most obvious change in the previous week.  Why was he such an idiot?  

     Finally he broke eye contact and let himself take a single, steadying breath.  His thoughts collected, he found his voice once again, a little surprised by his own casual tone.

At first, Tsukumoya tightened his grip in response to Izaya’s demand. He had no intention of moving anywhere, but as the seconds ticked by, he quickly changed his mind. If he were to stay nestled where he was, then it would look as though he were hiding, and Izaya would have the upper hand… or something to that effect.

Still, he didn’t want to follow Izaya’s word to the letter. So when he pushed himself away from Izaya and into a seated position, he didn’t stay there. Instead, he did what any sane and rational person would do, and climbed over Izaya’s legs so that he could straddle him. 

Just to keep him in place.

“T-Tell me.” His eyes narrowed and jaw clenched as he said the words, and his hands moved up to grip Izaya’s shoulders. He stared, unblinking, at the lesser informant for as long as he could, but that only made his face grow darker. Frowning deeply, he let his head fall heavily against Izaya’s shoulder.

     Was he only being immature or was there some other idea forming in that mess of a mind?  Izaya had gone past being irritable over Tsukumoya’s apparently lack of observational skills and was now just bothered by him as an entire person.  The best indication, of course, was that Izaya had stopped actively fighting. 

     Had he wanted to move he could have done so easily.  Tsukumoya was hardly strong enough to keep him pinned down, but he was not in the mood to physically force him away.  He was also not in the mood to ignore him until he gave up.  He felt defiant, which was no less childish than the other man’s behavior.  He stared back at man and took no satisfaction when Tsukumoya broke their gaze.

“Oi!” Tsukumoya snapped, waving his hand around the air as if that would help at all. How rude it was for Izaya bat him away! What a-

Oh… Oh, he hadn’t said that out loud, had he? Oh no, he had. He’d… Ah, that wasn’t what he’d wanted at all.

With a noise that sounded halfway between a huff and a grunt, Tsukumoya rolled onto his side again and buried his head in Izaya’s stomach. He let his abused hand drop, then gripped the side of Izaya’s shirt firmly.

“I kn-know a l-lot, s-so y-you n-nn-need to b-be sp-spec-ci-ci…” His had burrowed further into Izaya’s stomach in an attempt to hide his further shame. He’d never noticed his stutter before Izaya had pointed it out, and had become used to being able to speak clearly when looking at Izaya. It was strange to be stuttering now, even frustrating, and he took a deep breath before attempting to finish his word. “…ci-ci…f-fi-fic.”

     Sometimes it amazed Izaya just how childish Tsukumoya could be.  And why did he put up with such behavior?  It wasn’t attractive; Izaya found it to be a major turn off after about a minute.  Maybe it was because it was just too easy to draw out such a reaction...

     “For someone so fascinated with the things I do every day you’re ridiculously oblivious.  Do I have to tell you everything?  Why did I ever bother coming to you in the first place?”

     His tone was a little more harsh than anticipated, but now that he had spoken up he didn’t seem ready to just back down.  It was irrational to be so annoyed, and he wasn’t exactly sure why he was annoyed anymore: he just knew he was.  And Tsukumoya wasn’t helping matters any.

As Izaya’s hand moved away, Tsukumoya’s moved with it. It wasn’t until he was touching Izaya’s wrist with his fingertips that he realised what he was doing, and quickly stretched himself in an effort to cover himself. His cover had obviously been successful, but he couldn’t help but feel… wronged.

He rolled onto his back and peered up at Izaya with a mixture of betrayal and annoyance.

“Tell me.” Since his hand was still in the air, Tsukumoya moved it toward Izaya’s forehead. His expression was a stark contrast to how gently he brushed Izaya’s hair with his index finger, but he wasn’t currently self aware enough to notice. “Tell me.”

     Without so much as flinching Izaya smacked the offending hand away from himself as though it were nothing but an insect.  He didn’t even have to look directly at Tsukumoya to know what sort of face he was making, and it took enormous effort not to laugh at it.  However he managed to maintain his indifferent expression, as well as his tone of voice.

The heat in his face was becoming too difficult to ignore. It was almost certain that Izaya had noticed it, and for some reason, that made Tsukumoya feel a little more self conscious than usual. To think that he could be forced, against his will, to blush, just because Izaya played with his hair? Despicable.

The only solution was to roll onto his side so that he could attempt to better hide his face in Izaya’s lap. If he closed his eyes, well, it wasn’t because he was relaxed or anything. He just didn’t want them open.

“Stale information has never bothered you before.” Tsukumoya said clearly, not pouting or grumbling, or anything ridiculous like that. “Tell me. I want to know.”

     As Tsukumoya became more comfortable, Izaya took his hand away, letting it come to rest on the arm of the couch instead.  He made sure not to touch Tsukumoya, and instead left him to his own devices.  Besides, the man was burning up--who would want to touch someone so warm?      He did have to admit to himself that it was nice to have Tsukumoya asking him such a question, but Izaya hadn’t exactly been lying.  The moment, in his opinion, had passed.  It just didn’t interest him anymore, and in lieu of a proper answer he just made a small, noncommittal noise.

It was harder than it should have been to stop himself from reacting to Izaya’s gesture. It was obvious to Tsukumoya that Izaya wasn’t intending for it to be particularly affectionate, but that didn’t stop it from feeling affectionate. The intimacy of it made his face flush, but he managed to keep a neutral expression (or, at least convinced himself he had). 

“Are you saying I used to be exciting? But then… I don’t think y-you’d see me if you thought I was actually boring now.” Blinking roughly, Tsukumoya frowned. He wondered briefly if Izaya had drugged him, given the sudden onset of drowsiness, but decided it wasn’t likely. “If it wasn’t important, then you should have no problem sharing.”

     The color burning in Tsukumoya’s cheeks hardly felt like a victory considering how easily the man blushed, but Izaya at least understood that he had accomplished something.  He wasn’t entirely sure what he was after, and that was something that often scared him--just a little.  He was no longer sure what he wanted from Tsukumoya, and he acted on instinct around the man more often than he would have liked to admit.

    He could have reacted negatively.  Or he could have reacted in what would seem to be a joking manner.  But instead he chose to subtly fight back, and since that never ever ended up in a horrible, awkward situation, he was sure it would work in his favor.     Without any obvious effort he let one hand come to rest on Tsukumoya’s head,.his fingers almost absentmindedly playing with the man’s hair.  From anyone else it might have been a tender gesture, one that was natural.  But coming from Izaya it was something different...something perhaps a little more twisted.  And yet it seemed so simple and easy.

     “Just be quiet.”