#theswitch

Izaya sighed, picking up the utensils and started to cut the dish into even smaller pieces, which brought an incredulous look to Shizuo’s face. I can eat that scallop in one single bite. That was what Shizuo thought, wasn’t it? To scarf down the food within minutes is definitely animal-like, but this is a date after all. The plate finished with neatly cut scallops was pushed in Shizuo’s direction, switching it with the one Shizuo originally had.

Seconds of silence passed by, and only after chewing on a piece of the main course did Izaya part his lips to speak again.

“I like Shizu-chan though.”

“Aah? What are you playing at now?” Shizuo stared him down with suspicion, yet his mouth was already munching away.

“Can’t I say the truth?” he insisted further, masking the grimace that threatened to come with the word ‘truth’ in regards to harboring feelings towards this monster in front of him, “Forget it, just eat. I don’t want to become a corpse yet. How was Shizu-chan’s day today?”

“Hm- mostly spent the day with Tom-san. He told me to take a day off to focus on the date but I felt bad so I went to work ‘nyway, not like I’d be doing anything in the morning. But the bastards today really took the cake in being annoying.”

“More annoying than me?” Izaya teased, amused by the way Shizuo was naturally responding to him as though they were old friends, but perhaps Kasuka or Celty asked him this often. He didn’t seem to realize it.

“You’re the king at that.”

“I’m honored to receive such a title, and the throne at that!”

“Nothing to be proud of, you should be fixing yourself but suppose if you were born this way, there’s nothing you can do than die.”

“Even your ideas are like this, as expected of Shizu-chan. Then,” Izaya pointed his fork to Shizuo’s right shoulder, then the left, “I pronounce you the king of violent.”

One particular stab in attempt to pick up a scallop had Shizuo’s own fork go through the plate (or was it even the table?) but from this angle, Izaya could only see the cracks in the porcelain material, which had him stifling a chuckle.

Ah, Shizu-chan is so easy.

“I was actually quiet when I was younger,” Izaya rambled on, cheek resting in his palm, “you can ask Shinra about it.”

This seemed to perk Shizuo’s interest.

“Bullshit.”

Izaya shook his head.

“I was mostly minding my own business and had my nose stuck in books.”

“Then what the fuck happened?”

“Let’s say something interesting happened,” the corners his lips curl into a grin, upper half leaning forward in his date’s direction.

Izaya recalled the first time he’d met Shinra, who’d relentlessly pestered him to start a club together, which took a long while of convincing until there was anything remotely close to a mutual agreement. And of course, things began to go downhill when the gambling ring was formed, where he remembered seeing red on Shinra’s white uniform, feeling his heart beating fast as if it was to jump out of the ribcage— the kind of feeling he didn’t experience even with Kururi or Mairu getting injured.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?”

“I’d like you better if I met that version of you.”

“Are you a time-traveler?” his tone was playful, but Shizuo’s voice seemed to ring in his ears on a loop; mind plagued by the thoughts of how it could’ve played out if he’d met Shizuo first instead of Shinra.

Would they have gotten along due to their similarities of desiring to live in the shadows?

“If you’re going to stay a flea, fuck off, if not, change.”

“Shizu-chan, see, this is why you’re not getting the ladies,” the wine glass in his hand was already half empty, he wasn’t even aware of when he’d downed it until he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, “you’re supposed to accept your partner’s flaws.”

“Who in their right mind would want you as their partner?”

“Maybe not, but I know Shizu-chan the best.”

The only person who’d have enough bravery to lay a finger on Heiwajima Shizuo would be Izaya, arm stretched out to lightly press his palm to Shizuo’s jaw. This timing couldn’t have been better, Izaya seethed quietly. Neither of them had any time to react the moment a figure looms over them. That said figure was a girl donned in a floral sundress with pigtails hairstyle, her hand anxiously fidgeting with her sling bag.

“I… I’m sorry, Heiwajima-san,” she muttered meekly.

Shizuo was far too perplexed, too dumbfounded to notice the affectionate gesture, causing the crimson eyes to turn into slits as Izaya gradually retract his hand to rest it on the table, but not before he let the fingertips linger on Shizuo’s skin. Any glimpse of attention Shizuo spared for Izaya beforehand had moved away to fixate on the intruder instead.

How annoying.

“Why are you apologizing?— Who are you?”

“Koyuki.”

“Would Shizu-chan have preferred her to be me instead? I’m flattered.”

“Anyone’s better than you.”

“Oya,” brows knitting, Izaya placed a palm over his heart for a dramatic effect, acting as though he’d gotten upset by such forward words, “that doesn’t sound like the sweet Shizu-chan I’ve been hearing from.”

“…Get lost, bastard.”

“Careful, you’ll hurt my feelings.”

“Yeah? I never knew you had any.”

There was a noise of dissatisfaction that slipped from his lips, but he managed to muster a grin within the last second before Shizuo could comment on it, eyes crescent-shaped despite his half-hearted efforts to appear chirpy after the biting retort he received. His gaze then trailed over Shizuo now lax figure— blonde locks mussed up due to how consistent Shizuo was with tugging at them as a method of anger suppression, creases still forming on the forehead as a sign that he was still wary of Izaya, even though the tense expression that he had on was already gone. And of course, the blue bowtie that completed his outfit became loose, as if he’d just gotten home after a day’s work.

Shizuo seemed to have long stopped caring about his own appearance.

A leopard can’t change its spots after all.

It wasn’t how Izaya wanted his date to look like, as much as the back of his mind tempted the idea of leaving this situation as it was, the both of them being ‘Beauty and the Beast’. But he, too, had standards.

“Shizu-chan, I understand that a beast may take comfort in being messy as it’s in their nature, but it’d be very, very preferable if you’d fix your hair.”

“Ha? Why should I look good for you?”

If there weren’t so many eyes watching every move they made, he would’ve rolled his eyes right then, but he opted for a deep exhale of a sigh instead. Only Shizuo wouldn’t care about resembling a trashcan in a high-class restaurant as this.

“I took the time to dress myself up for Shizu-chan,” Izaya gestured towards himself, fingertips smoothening out the non-existent crinkles on his suit, which he’d requested to be ironed twice at the shop for extra measures— not that he thought Shizuo would’ve even cared if he came in a wrinkled outfit, because Shizuo would treat him just as same if he’d donned a simple white t-shirt instead.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Can’t you just appreciate how good looking I am, perhaps even better than Koyuki-san?”

The sound of a familiar name seemed to stir Shizuo up.

“Whose picture did you even use, aah?”

“Mm? Did you really think it was me who talked to you?”

Shizuo slumped forward, head in his hands and fingers tangled in the blonde locks that were only getting more unkempt as time goes by, “You’re just fuckin’ with me. Everything has your shitty prints all over it. But… we called each other, and her voice was soft,” He seemed confused, bothered by the truths that he believed as lies, and disappointment was clearly portrayed in his expression as he knew that he had to chalk this up as another failure in his dating life, and just as before, it was because of Izaya’s interference.

The demise only made Izaya smile, though.

“You must’ve paid someone to act as Koyuki-san, you bastard,” Shizuo continued further, thinking he had Izaya all figured out.

“If you’re really convinced I’m her, then, let’s see the receipts. Hm, which sweet message from Shizu-chan shall we see today?”

From the moment he first came in, he’d placed his phone on the table, and it’d been there; unmoving since (it was a surprise that Shizuo never attempted to go at it). Izaya lifted it up, swiftly unlocking it as he held the device in a strategic angle where only he could gaze upon the now lit screen. “Oh? Looks like I was telling the truth after all, I searched… and,” he turned it towards Shizuo after opening the messaging application, thumb skidding across the glass screen in a consistent manner as to only give a gist of the messages contained there instead of letting Shizuo read them, “No messages between Shizu-chan and Koyuki-san here.”

“How’d I know you’re telling the truth? Do it in front of me.”

Shizuo’s grasped his hand, albeit firm, the grip was warm against his skin and rather addictive, to such person as him who hadn’t received such contact on a daily basis— but he tried not to let it show on his face. The day his heart skips a beat for Shizuo would be the day he’d rip his heart out of his chest. Not that that has never happened before, but he’d never admit to that.

“Isn’t trust one of the important things in a relationship?”

It was a joke of course, considering a man could come strolling to their table, slap down 55,000 yen, betting that Shizuo didn’t have even an ounce of trust in Izaya, and he’d be announced winner in a second. Nevertheless, Izaya complied with Shizuo’s request as he made no move to part their hands (it was a date, after all, right?), scrolling through the messages in a much slower pace.

“You must be fuckin’ kidding me, this guy is asking you to kill his friend,” the bolded letters on one of the messages piqued Shizuo’s interest, brows knitting in building irritation at the thought of Izaya’s dirty deeds. The tightening grip around his hand was a clear indication that the bomb had begun ticking again; with only one glance, he could see Shizuo contemplating why exactly he still hadn’t thrown a chair at Izaya’s head.

“I’m not going to accept that one, Shizu-chan. I trade information, not lives,” Izaya retorted in a nonchalant manner, gaze scrutinizing Shizuo’s movement for any change in his reaction. He’d brought his trusty switchblade with him in case things were to go awry.

“If you take up this shitty job, I—”

“I won’t, I promise.”

If the hand that was holding his wasn’t capable of snapping his bone in a split second, he would’ve made the joke that Shizuo had certainly killed just as many humans as Izaya in his life. However, Shizuo seemed satisfied enough by the answer, but he spent several more minutes; stare boring through the screen of the phone until he deemed that there was indeed no proof to be found in there.

“Are you finally done now?” he questioned Shizuo.

“It’s probably in another phone.”

“This is the only phone I have, Shizu-chan.”

“Ha.”

“I understand that since Shizu-chan doesn’t get around often, he’d be obsessed when there’s any interest, but if you’d just let this go, that’d be very appreciated because I truly don’t know Koyuki-san. Apart from one of my clients, of course, but that Koyuki was an old woman! Unless Shizu-chan swings that way—”

“And you know her fuckin’ name.”

“Is it really that Koyuki-san?” It was unintentional, but it’d gotten to this point where he was antagonizing Shizuo; raising his brows as the corners of his lips curled up into a smile. The phone that was in his clutch had dropped back onto the velvet covered table with a ‘thud’, but it seemed like Shizuo was far too engrossed in his vexation to notice, the fingers remained tangled around Izaya’s hand.

“You should know what she looks like.”

“Why do you want me to be her so much?”

Anyone would agree that it would be better if Shizuo was left off believing that there was indeed a girl aside from Izaya. That there was a possibility that out of nowhere, he’d catch a glimpse of that familiar face he’d been staring at before he went to sleep every night, and they might end up working things out if they’d tried to talk in real life, as it wasn’t like Izaya didn’t knew that Shizuo was capable of being gentle, especially towards those he cared for.

Izaya didn’t wait for a reply, no— he reached an arm out to prod at the knuckle of his nemesis with the faintest touch, his sultry gaze baited with slight mischief, and he continued further, rendering Shizuo speechless.