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Shizuo figures it out by accident.
They’re fooling around in an alleyway after a chase, all teeth and heat and adrenaline as usual. Shizuo fucks Izaya against the wall, hands roaming under his shirt. He wants to get a better grip, hold Izaya closer, like he’s worried he’ll run off the second he gets a chance. Shizuo’s thumb brushes over Izaya’s nipple, and the man under him shivers, letting out a gasp.
Shizuo always pays attention to every noise Izaya makes, from the arrogant laughter that boils his blood to the breathy moans that are far more pleasing. He likes to wring those unguarded, desperate sounds from Izaya, so when he gasps like that, Shizuo rubs his thumb over that spot again while keeping up the pace of his thrusts. Izaya’s moan stutters, and he tightens around Shizuo’s cock, making Shizuo spill inside him.
As always, Izaya doesn’t hang around for long after that. If anything, he seems more eager to leave than usual. Maybe he’s embarrassed; knowing him, he probably thinks he’s exposed some sort of weakness. Even when he’s getting fucked, Izaya hates looking weak.
But Shizuo won’t forget.
It takes a long time to get Izaya in his bed. They've always fucked in alleys and bathroom stalls, standing or bent over. “It’s easier this way,” Izaya always says. “Why drag things out looking for a hotel? It’s better to get it over with.”
Shizuo was fine with that, for a while. It was a good outlet for his raging adrenaline and the pent-up aggression Izaya has filled him with since high school. But he realized, eventually, that it wasn’t enough. He isn’t satisfied with just a quick fuck anymore. He wants to take his time with Izaya. He wants to make him fall apart. Maybe then, Shizuo would finally feel like he’s winning.
So when Izaya finally trusts him enough to enter his apartment, when Shizuo convinces him to try something different, he doesn't waste the chance. He pulls Izaya's shirt off and pushes him onto the bed, one knee between his legs.
“Fuck,” Shizuo mutters, mostly to himself. Izaya looks so pretty on his bed, his smooth, pale skin contrasting the dark gray sheets. Izaya is on Shizuo's bed, Shizuo's sheets.
“What are you staring at?” Izaya says, tongue still sharp despite his softened gaze. “Hurry up, already, Shizu-chan.”
Shizuo takes a deep breath and pushes Izaya down with a hand on his chest, leaning over him to trail grazing kisses down his neck. “Shut up,” he breathes into Izaya's skin. “I said we're going slow today.”
“Don't be too slow,” Izaya warns, twining a hand in Shizuo's hair and tugging it. “You don't want me getting bored.”
Shizuo glances up at Izaya from his collarbone, nipping and sucking a bruise just underneath. Izaya hisses, hips arching up to grind against Shizuo's knee. Shizuo smirks at the reaction; there’s no chance Izaya will get bored with how he plans to treat him.
His bruising kisses trail lower, circling around one perky, rosy nipple. Izaya twitches below him in anticipation, his body always more honest than his mouth. Shizuo doesn't keep him waiting for long, dragging his tongue across that bud and getting a sharp gasp as a reward.
So it wasn't a fluke the first time; Izaya really is sensitive here. Shizuo licks Izaya's nipple again, then sucks on it. His hand slides up to rub the other nipple, pinching lightly.
Izaya's reactions are even better than Shizuo hoped. “S-Shizu-chan– D-don't– there–” Izaya tries to protest, but with a light graze of Shizuo's teeth he moans needily, back arching up into Shizuo's mouth. The hand in Shizuo's hair yanks, but he can barely feel it; he's too focused on the twitching each lick and pinch elicits, and the uncontrollable rut of Izaya's bulge against his thigh.
Izaya yanks harder, and Shizuo lifts his head to look at him, a faint trail of saliva hanging from his lips to the red, swollen bud he's been sucking on. His gaze is hazy, intent, and Izaya shivers under it. “Stop toying with me,” Izaya says, his flush betraying his embarrassment. “Don't you just want to fuck?”
“I want to make you feel good,” Shizuo says, rubbing Izaya's nipple in a slow circle.
“I'd feel better if you touch me properly,” Izaya says, lifting his hips pointedly, “Instead of treating me like a girl.”
Shizuo frowns, pinching Izaya's nipple harder, which earns him a flustered glare. “That's not what I'm doing.” He knows that whatever he says, though, it will just make Izaya spit out some other annoying argument. So he does what he’s told, slipping Izaya's pants and boxers down as well as his own.
But Shizuo doesn't plan on fucking him. Not yet, at least. He spreads Izaya's legs and kneels between them, letting their dicks press together. A low groan spills from his lips at the feeling of Izaya’s hot, hard length against his, and he drags his hips down in delicious slow friction.
Izaya likes it, too, if the way his breath stutters and his cock twitches are any indication. But still, he furrows his brow, tugging sharply at Shizuo’s hair. “Stop… messing around…” He says, but his proud voice is wavering.
Shizuo knows that this is a lot for Izaya. Being in Shizuo’s bed, treated with care and gentle touches. But he also knows that if Izaya really didn’t want this, he would have already pulled out a knife. It fills Shizuo with satisfaction, getting Izaya desperate and vulnerable, showing him how attentive he can be when he’s not treated like a monster.
“Shut up,” Shizuo growls, capturing Izaya’s lips in a devouring kiss. He’ll eat those annoying words, swallow Izaya whole.
Kisses between them used to be a fight, when they happened at all. A clash of tongues and teeth that left blood in both their mouths. It's only recently that Izaya has let Shizuo lead their kisses somewhere more gentle. Softer nips, slower movements, tongues embracing instead of battling.
Shizuo loves kissing Izaya like this. Slow, deep, savoring every slide of their lips and tongues together, drinking every pant and moan from Izaya's throat. Izaya digs his nails hard into Shizuo's back when he's kissed this way, like he can't accept tenderness without a little pain. He probably can't.
So Shizuo takes his time, melting him down little by little. He wraps one large, rough hand around both their cocks and strokes them together, smearing precum to make the friction between them smoother. Fuck, it feels so good to just touch Izaya like this, to make him unravel. The more Shizuo gets out of Izaya, the more he learns his sensitivities and desires, the more he wants.
Izaya’s hips thrust into Shizuo’s hand, the nails on his shoulder slackened and the fingers in his hair pulling him closer. Shizuo breaks the kiss and moves down to Izaya’s chest again, to the nipples that are now red and plump, deliciously ripe. Izaya doesn’t complain, this time, when Shizuo’s mouth finds the one he hasn’t sucked yet and focuses his attention on it. He can feel Izaya’s heartbeat pulsing under his tongue, and it fills Shizuo with pride that it’s beating so fast because of him.
Without Shizuo swallowing them, Izaya’s moans are clear and needy, the pitch and breathiness changing every time Shizuo strokes their cocks together at the right angle or swirls his tongue the right way on Izaya’s chest. Shizuo could get addicted to these sounds, this feeling, this taste. He wants more and more of Izaya– all of him.
As the heat builds, Shizuo’s hand and hips speed up, like he’s fucking Izaya’s cock. His teeth graze Izaya’s nipple, and the moan he lets out is so sweet it drives Shizuo insane. He growls and bites down around that bud, teeth sinking into soft, tender flesh like he wants to bite into Izaya’s pounding heart underneath.
Izaya twitches under him with a sharp gasp, and then he’s spilling in Shizuo’s hand. The feeling of Izaya’s cum coating his own cock is enough to send Shizuo over the edge, and with a low groan into Izaya’s skin he cums, too.
Shizuo nips around Izaya’s chest as they come down, slowly stroking their cocks through it until they’re both fully spent. He pulls back to look at the man under him, breath hitching at the sight. Izaya has never looked more beautiful, with his face flushed, eyes hazy, and hair spread out on Shizuo’s sheets. His smooth, thin chest is covered in blooming bruises and teeth marks, like purple petals around rosy buds.
When Shizuo looks into Izaya’s crimson eyes, they stare back only for a moment before Izaya turns his head to the side.
“Shizu-chan is the worst,” Izaya mutters. Those words would have pissed Shizuo off before, but now, he knows what Izaya means. He liked it, and it scares him. So Shizuo doesn’t snap at him, doesn’t argue. He slides down and rests his chin on Izaya’s chest, feeling the thrum of that vicious little heart.
“Yeah,” Shizuo says. “Get used to it.” Maybe he is the worst, exploiting Izaya’s fears and weaknesses, refusing to play the game on his terms. But for once, Shizuo has the upper hand, a way to win their battles. Because Izaya is afraid of being loved. And Shizuo is going to love him, anyway.