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“Say ‘cheese’, Shizu-chan.”
“Fuck. You.” There was a low growl in the back of his throat as he spoke, somewhat akin to the sound of dog being backed up into a corner. The corner of one very public, very cramped photo machine. Something Shizuo Heiwajima wouldn’t mind throwing around for the fun of it on an off day. After this, though, he’d be throwing them with a vengeance.
He’d found himself knocked right into it in the midst of yet another street brawl with one Izaya Orihara; what he hadn’t expected, though, was for the man to follow him inside as opposed to waiting for him to poke his head out in frustration and laugh. That idiotic, cruel laughter that got his blood boiling… Right now he would probably prefer that to his current situation.
The cool, sharp edge of Izaya’s switchblade cut into the side of his throat just shallow enough not to mean much, but that didn’t stop the blood from trickling down the blonde’s neck and staining the collar of his white shirt. The only thing keeping him from punching the living daylights out of the shitty louse was the caution tape wound several times tightly around both of his wrists. At some point while he was still uncoordinated from smashing his head against the metal interior was when Izaya had managed, which was a pretty low blow but he didn’t exactly feel like contemplating that any further. It wasn’t like either of them fought fair when they got down to it. His hands were being held up over his head against the inside wall of the booth, and he couldn’t move his head without the threat of getting his throat cut open.
Not to mention, of all places, the dark-haired man had decided to seat himself quite comfortably in his lap. And he looked to be enjoying himself there quite a bit.
“You did that yesterday, or have you already forgotten with that primitive mind of yours?”
Shizuo found it a good time to spit bloody saliva in his face, snarling up at him. His chest rose up and he gave a sharp buck with his hips, a deadly glare on his face. Nostrils flaring, he drew his head back, but there was only so far he could go, and the knife just followed along casually.
“Whoa, whoa, horsie, you’re going to tip us over.”
Refusing to answer him, the bartender inhaled sharply at the feeling of the knife slicing deeper with his struggling, which was to be expected, but fuck if he was going to just sit here and wait out Izaya’s little game. He knew the other man wanted him to talk. Wanted him to argue back at him, but he didn’t intend to go along with that. And it never ceased to piss the brunette off that Shizuo could get around each and every one of his games. Oh, he certainly did not like being ignored. Leaning in closer to the blonde, he used his position perched atop his lap to his advantage. With a swift jerk, an all but sensual roll of his hips and precision dexterity, he ground their clothed groins together.
“Ah-..” As the short sound slipped from Shizuo’s lips, Izaya broke into a wide grin, self satisfaction more than clear.
“This is revenge for last night, Shizu-chan, and you better be smiling by the end of it.”
~~~~~
Smack.
Push.
Grit.
Moan.
SLAM.
Izaya was on the hard floor of Shizuo’s apartment’s kitchen, head uncomfortably positioned partially between two shelves at the bottom of a small pantry full of alcohol bottles. Blood drained from his nose and the cuts on his forehead, but at least he had some fine whiskey the back of his head had cracked open to wash it off with. The alcohol stung in his cuts, but as he extracted himself from the mess, the blonde was aggravated to see his was smirking.
“Shizu-chan…” he said as he pulled himself up from the rubble. “As a bartender, you should really treat your personal alcohol stock with more care.” He brushed himself off (not that it really did anything to help with his current state of bloodied undress), and then licked a few bits of whiskey and blood from his lip.
Their sex was always rough. Shizuo made it a goal to injure Izaya as much as he pleasured himself fucking the living daylights out of him, but there was rarely a time when the other man didn’t come out of it laughing. He’d laughed that unbearably insane laugh while Shizuo had bashed his head into the kitchen table in the midst of fucking him over it. He’d laughed when the blonde tore his shoulder up with his teeth. And his moans had been so goddamn sexy when he came that Shizuo’s release only took seconds more. It frustrated him to no end how well he manipulated his body, and so in a frequently occurring moment of fury, he’d picked Izaya up and thrown him, leaving him bruised and bloody and in nothing but a ripped-open shirt and his socks.
After cleaning himself up, he’d left with nonchalance and a little more teasing, Shizuo barking about nonsense he didn’t care to listen to when he’d simply taken one of his spare shirts. It hadn’t been apparent at all to the bartender that he had things in mind for the following day.
~~~~~
Izaya was already into his pants, and Shizuo held back as many sounds as he possibly could, biting his lower lip to the point of bleeding. “I hate you, you sonuvabitch,” rang softly in his ears, and he could still feel the tingle of his breath from when he’d had his face up close. It was so fucking difficult to get the blonde to respond to him the way he wanted him to. He played his little head games all the time, but Shizuo was like the final boss level that he just could not beat. There was something wrong with his head, it was probably so animalistic and dull that he just could not get through to him with his usual tactics. It was like speaking to a man who did not have any idea what language he was using.
“Likewise… Izaya…kun,” came the growled reply from Shizuo’s bared teeth. He was panting heavily, but even with Izaya grinding down on his bared arousal, he’d refused to utter even a single proper moan. When he wasn’t speaking, his lips were drawn tightly shut, and Izaya was beginning to really dislike how this was going. Or, well, not going. With the intention of getting him to open his fucking mouth, the shorter man crushed their lips together, tongue invading only to get bitten, but that wasn’t something that was going to turn him off. In fact it elicited the most annoying groan from him that lit a fresh spark of arousal in Shizuo’s gut, and then he was being kissed harder. Faster. Rougher. And all at the same time Izaya was using an immense amount of skill with his tongue that the blonde could not get enough of. Instinct taking over for the time being, he met the harsh kisses with his own, and in no time at all the both of them had blood dribbling down their chins and dripping onto their clothing.
The knife was back at his neck, but Shizuo had essentially dismissed it by now. However, Izaya refused to let it be left useless once he noticed. If he wasn’t going to be threatened by it like this, he could at least make due with using it for other means. The blade cut downwards, ripping the bowtie right off the front of Shizuo’s shirt, and then it tore further. He didn’t give a shit about the buttons, and since he’d had one of his own favorite shirts torn to shreds the prior night, he only deemed it fair to slice the whole thing open, jagged tears running down the whole way. There was a clearly aggravated grunt from the man that got lost somewhere in between their lips, but Izaya just nipped him again in response. By now his own pants had been growing increasingly tighter, and he was getting ready to move on.
A second later he’d freed the bartender’s lips of his own and was looking up at the inside of the booth. Shizuo only gave him a second’s worth of a confused look before taking the chance to lunge himself forward and latch his teeth into the crook between Izaya’s neck and shoulder. A sharp hiss (he couldn’t even tell if it was pained or pleasured) rushed between the brunette’s teeth, and he could already feel the red fluid making its way down his front and under his shirt. “Nnnh, more, Shizu-chan…” The tone was clearly mocking, but Shizuo didn’t hesitate, breaking the skin in an almost complete circle. While the blonde was busy sampling him though, Izaya had been tying the ends of the tape binding his wrists to the pole the lone curtain hung from… the only thing keeping them from being seen by the public’s eyes. Was Shizuo to yank on it, it would undoubtedly draw the curtain itself open. He didn’t even notice though, so worked up that it took feeling both Izaya’s hands now on him to realize something was up.
“S-sonuva--!! You fucking prick!” He growled, and Izaya was only grinning wider.
“You’re pretty slow today, Shizu-chan. Are you really that into leaving so many marks on me?” It only took a shift of his shoulders to drop his fur-lined jacket off and to the floor, revealing numerous bruises and cuts down his arms, and within moments he was propping himself up on his knees to undo his pants and tug them down his hips. Snarling at the feeling of Izaya’s now bared arousal pressing up against his abdomen, Shizuo only had a moment’s notice before he was lowering himself. And damn, the instant he felt himself pressing inside that tight, un-prepped heat, he swore the shiver that ran through him connected right to Izaya and the man in his lap arched backwards, a low moan bouncing off the walls of the photo booth.
It was in that split second that Shizuo broke.
The two of them were at it like usual in no time, Shizuo intentionally throwing his hips upwards and burying himself so deep into Izaya in a matter of no time that he finally ended up echoing the sounds himself. Izaya’s dark hair was thrown back, one hand diving into the blonde strands to tug ruthlessly. The other palm was at first moving slowly over the toned muscles of his stomach before his fingers curled and he clawed with blunt nails down Shizuo’s front. There was no time for words, Izaya jerking his hips so perfectly that it didn’t even matter whether their rhythm was off, because they both felt every bit of each movement to its full extent. The bartender’s teeth were on his neck again at the opposite side, fists clenching against their restraints. The caution taped only barely stretched though, wrapped so many times around his wrists even his strength was still at a loss. Though that was also partially because he was completely and utterly distracted to the point of not even being able to focus on one thing at a time.
Izaya’s hands, though, were free to roam. If there was one thing he didn’t entirely dislike about the other man, it was touching him. He couldn’t deny the man was immensely attractive, and pushing him to the point of sobbing moans through touching was like a sport for him. His fingers touched everywhere, tracing the muscles shifting underneath his skin and following them behind his back. His arms came to cross there now, and he used the grip as leverage to slam himself down harder on Shizuo’s aching cock.
“Heheh..”
Fuck, there it was.
“Heh.. Hahahaha- aahhh, S-Shizu-chan…!”
“Shuddup!!” He growled around the flesh between his teeth, biting down harder and sucking to draw up a bruise.
Slim fingers drew up the back of Shizuo’s shirt and out the collar, where they settled around his neck. Jamming his thumbs into the blonde’s throat, Izaya ripped him away roughly, wincing but not really caring when it pulled some of his skin up thanks to how tightly latched to him he’d been. Easing in closer, his eyes lidded and his thumbs drew up further along the now coughing Shizuo’s neck until they were at the pressure points under his jaw. Lifting the man’s head up, he gave his hips a particularly precise roll that coaxed a moan from the depths of his chest, smiling almost warmly as he whispered against his lips.
“Red suits you.” He quickly sampled a taste of his own blood from Shizuo’s chin, but the man was infuriated beyond all reason now. Slamming his forehead against Izaya’s face, he knocked him back slightly with the headbutt and left his nose and upper lip bleeding. Gasping for breath, his eyes darted downward, but it wasn’t like he could see or really do anything about the hands closing tighter around his neck in response to the violence. He was choking, and Izaya was still moving his hips and laughing more, moans littered here and there in between. Refreshed adrenaline coursed through his veins and he threw his hips up more roughly, writhing and bucking under Izaya until he could only see white and with the man leaning in and moaning his name in his ear he came so hard he stopped breathing altogether, the erratic jerks shaking his body transferring right over to Izaya and with the feeling of Shizuo’s orgasm filling him while he still bucked like a wild horse and drove himself against his prostate each and every time it was only natural that the brunette would be coming soon after, clutching at him desperately and drawing red scrapes over pale skin.
~~~~~
Izaya swiftly turned a corner, only to find somehow Shizuo had gotten there first. Having chased him through town carrying the photo booth above his head like it was nothing, he finally got the chance to throw it, and Izaya had no way to dodge the huge flying hunk of metal that crashed into him. Left half under it, he pushed at the machine, but it was futile. Shizuo grinned in satisfaction, walking over to stand just over him but out of reach.
“Cheese, Izaya-kun.”
Izaya’s hate for this man was unparalleled.