Notes: Again, I wrote this for the DRRR kink meme and finished it a while back and am posting it now since it IS the season for this sort of fic. I have... a follow-up planned for it that I'm planning on posting as soon as I finish it.
Title: Old Calendars
Pairing: Shizaya ( Shizuo/Izaya )
Prompt: Shizaya - I want a story of this scene or a story that will lead to this scene. [ original prompt here ]
Words: 5182 words
Disclaimer: It's not mine. I didn't make any moneys from writing this.
Outside of his living room window, Shizuo could see snow floating down and creating a little drift along the edges of the balcony. It had been colder outside than usual, and his coat was hanging in the hall drying out and leaving little puddles of water on the floor. He'd worry about cleaning it up later.
The microwave beeped, announcing to the apartment that the mug of milk he'd stuck in there to heat up was done. Shizuo turned away from the window and the TV – playing a rerun of some show or another – was spilling more noise out into the otherwise silent apartment. He pulled out the mug, carefully, and set it on the counter and added the hot chocolate mix, stirring it in and watching as the white milk turned a creamy brown.
Around this time of year, this was his routine: Come home from a long day at work in the cold, make himself a mug of hot chocolate – always his favourite brand – and then settling down on the couch for a quiet evening.
With his hot chocolate in one hand, Shizuo flopped himself down on the couch, carefully setting the mug of steaming liquid on the coffee table. He glanced at the window and the thermometer there; the temperature was below zero, by how much he couldn't tell.
He'd changed out of his usual bartender outfit, opting for something more laid-back. It wasn't as though the uniform was the only thing he owned, although some people would say otherwise. The outfit, as much as he loved it since Kasuka had given them to him, just wasn't comfortable for lazing about.
Just as he was making himself comfortable, there was a knock at the door.
Grumbling, Shizuo hauled himself off the couch, mumbling a few choice curses under his breath about being interrupted. He was prepared to really lay into the person when he swung the door open, but he froze in his tracks.
“What the fuck are you doing here?!” A pause. “Why are you–”
“I was pushed into the snow.” Izaya's response was as blunt as always. “Several times actually.”
“And you're here because...?”
“You live the closest.”
Izaya's hands were shoved into his arm pits for all the good it did him; Shizuo could see that his face was pale – he was entirely too pale, he looked as white as a fucking sheet – and his lips were starting to turn blue. The snow had melted and soaked his clothes through so that they stuck to him like a second skin. He didn't look like he'd been shoved into a pool or something; even his hair was sticking to his scalp and had frozen, forming little black icicles covered with frost.
“You look like you got pushed into a pool,” Shizuo quipped, but nonetheless stepped aside and let the informant into his apartment.
“Sh-shut up.” But Izaya's voice was lacking its usual venom and it was shaky.
The informant was shivering violently and he wasn't completely stable on his feet; he looked as though the lightest push or blast of wind would knock him over. And that was exactly what happened when he bent over to try and take off his shoes.
Izaya pitched forward as he bent over awkwardly, his jerky movements not helping his crappy balance and he would have face planted into the floor if it wasn't for Shizuo catching the informant's arm and keeping him on his feet.
“Fuck! You feel like a block of ice!”
“I-I t-t-told you, I g-g-got p-pushed into a block o-o-of ice!” Izaya squawked out awkwardly as Shizuo forced him to sit on the ground, making sure that he was sitting on the little rubber mat by the door. “Wh-what are y-y-you doing?!”
“Taking your shoes off, obviously. You're shaking too badly to do it yourself.”
And Shizuo set to doing just that. He cursed under his breath; much like his hair, Izaya's shoes had started to form a coating of ice that made it difficult to remove them. Eventually Shizuo just wound up ripping at the laces and pulling the shoes off, carelessly tossing them to the side on the mat. Once that was done he peeled off the socks, which were also cold and wet though they luckily weren't frozen.
“Fucking hell Izaya,” Shizuo muttered as he felt just how cold Izaya's feet were. “How long were you out there for? It's below zero!”
“A-a wh-while.” Izaya paused while Shizuo glared at him. “I-i-it t-took me a-a-about tw-twenty m-m-minutes to -w-walk h-here...”
“Can you stand?”
He tried to push himself to his feet, but his shaking was so bad that he couldn't manage it and wound up collapsing back onto the mat. “I-I–”
Shizuo's hands were already prying him out of his jacket, throwing the offending garment to the floor. It hit the floor with wet plunk, soaking the carpet. Then the blond was pulling his shirt out of his pants and over his head, that was when Izaya's brain caught up with what was going on.
“You're cold, your clothes are soaked and frozen. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you need to get out of those clothes.” Shizuo didn't look up from where he was concentrating on getting Izaya out of his clothes as quickly as possible. “Lift your arms, I need to get this off.”
“F-f-fine!” Izaya shakily raised his arms, but he didn't comply to Shizuo's fast enough and the blond pulled his arms over his head and yanked the shirt off.
There was the sound of tearing fabric.
“H-h-h-hey! W-watch it Sh–”
“Shut up. I could really care less about your clothes; you can borrow some of mine. Would you rather die from the cold?!”
Izaya huffed, but it didn't turn come out sounding the way he wanted it to. He was still shaking violently and his hands were too cold for him to resist – bending his fingers was painful – and so he let Shizuo manoeuvre him as he peeled off his clothes.
When the blond reached for his underwear, Izaya shook his head and stuttered out, “D-d-don't–”
The blond smirked, “It's not like I haven't seen it before.”
If Izaya's blood hadn't been busy trying to keep him warm, he would have blushed. Just a little. And he wasn't even sure why he got embarrassed over something like that; Shizuo had seen him in various states of undress and arousal... all of which he was usually responsible for.
Their relationship was twisted and confusing and way too complex for him to be thinking about when he was half-frozen. It was making his head hurt.
Shizuo managed to peel Izaya's underwear off and he tossed them to join the pile of rapidly thawing clothes by the door. Then he reached down and scooped Izaya – who was still shivering and frigid to the touch – up into his arms and made his way towards the bathroom. He didn't have a bath tub but he figured that a warm shower would have to do.
The informant said nothing, but he instinctually pressed closer to Shizuo, seeking out the warmth that the blond was emanating. He pressed his trembling, ice cold fingers to Shizuo's chest, which caused the blond to nearly jump out of his skin.
“Fuck! You're freezing.”
“Ob-obviously...” Izaya managed. Damn, he really needed to get his shaking under control; he hated how much he was stuttering. He couldn't control it, the way his teeth chattered and the way he kept stumbling over his words.
Shizuo kicked the bathroom door open and walked, only briefly depositing Izaya on the counter to start the shower and make sure that the temperature was right. He pretended not to notice the rather pathetic little whimper Izaya let slip when he moved away. Once he had the temperature right, he returned to the informant and gently placed him in the shower under the warm water.
Biting back a shriek, Izaya instead let slip an extremely colourful barrage of swears – not all of them in Japanese.
“Th-that hurts Sh-Shizu-chan!”
“No shit Izaya,” Shizuo grumbled, grabbing a wash cloth off the towel bar and soaking it quickly. He'd rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, and started wringing out the wash cloth over Izaya's back and scrubbing.
To Izaya, it felt like hell; everything felt like it was burning as blood rushed back into his extremities and as his body started to warm up. Even though Shizuo was being gentle, it still felt as though he was dragging sandpaper along Izaya's hyper-sensitized skin. He tried to wiggle away from the other, but the blond was far stronger than him and he easily held him in place with one hand.
Shizuo could still feel the chill coming off of Izaya's skin through the wash cloth, and he bit his lip to hold back the myriad of curses that he was itching to let fly. Instead, he set to grumbling darkly under his breath about Izaya's own stupidity.
“I r-resent that y-you know.”
“Yeah? Well I'm not the one who risked turning into a fucking ice cube; what the hell were you doing outside in this weather anyway? I had the impression that you hated cold weather.”
Izaya shrugged, which made him sneeze rather violently. He frowned, “I h-had something that I-I needed to g-get done.”
“You really need a better job.” Shizuo let out a heavy sigh.
“Yes you do and don't deny it. Just how many times have you come crawling to me because of something that happened to you because of what you do?” Shizuo stood up, casting one more scrutinizing look at Izaya. “Stay there, I'll go and find you something to wear.”
Izaya harumphed and crossed his arms – or attempted to, his arms were still tingling and weren't being as kind to him as usual – but said nothing more on the subject. He knew that Shizuo was stubborn and once he had an idea in his head, he wasn't about to just drop it unless he had proof otherwise. And honestly? Izaya knew that he was right.
With his flesh tingling still from being warmed up, Izaya felt a bit more of the chill sneak back in. He shoved his hands back into his armpits, his movements clumsy and awkward, and curled up into a ball on the shower floor.
There wasn't much that he could do until Shizuo returned; he just hoped that he wouldn't come out of this with a cold or anything. But somehow, he doubted that he'd be that lucky.
Although, maybe it won't be so bad; Shizu-chan is a lot better than Namie. Izaya let a small smile tug at his lips; he remembered how angry Namie had been when she'd found him sick with the flu and she'd been forced to handle a lot of his business. It would have been amusing to him if he hadn't felt like he'd been hit by a truck the entire time.
Gradually, Izaya was feeling less like an ice cube and more like a human being. His limbs felt stiff but the muscles were gradually relaxing under the deluge of warm water; and he was still shivering but it wasn't as violent as they had been before.
Sniffling, Izaya pulled his legs closer to his body. The warm water was comforting and he felt sleepy as a result, and he would have fallen asleep in the shower if Shizuo hadn't returned.
“No falling asleep in the shower; I don't want to have you drown in my home.” Shizuo dropped the clothes he'd brought for Izaya on the counter before kneeling down beside the shower stall. His tone was surprisingly soft as he spoke. “How are you feeling?”
Izaya automatically moved forward towards Shizuo, unfurling himself slightly as the blond turned off the water and carefully lifted him out of the stall. Although he was still unstable on his feet, Izaya grabbed onto Shizuo's arms to keep himself upright; his knees were shaking and his legs felt unsteady under him.
“If you can't stand just sit.” Very carefully Shizuo lowered the informant down to the bathroom mat and took one of the towels off the rod and began drying the smaller man off. “You're still shivering.”
“I st-still feel cold.” Well, at least he wasn't stuttering as much as before. Izaya counted that as a plus. He flex his fingers experimentally as Shizuo dried his hair. They still felt stiff and unwieldy. “What d-did you bring me to w-wear?”
“Your stutter is kind of cute,” Shizuo remarked almost absently. He pulled the sweatshirt he'd brought off the sink and pulled it over Izaya's head, watching with a smirk as Izaya fumbled a little to get his arms into the sleeves.
Izaya glared at the blond, “Shut up.”
“You're welcome.” And as if to add a bit of insult to injury, Shizuo pressed a quick kiss to Izaya's cheek before standing up. “Do you think you can manage to pull some pants on?”
The sweatpants that Shizuo had pulled from his closet were thrown at Izaya who managed to catch them, fingers curling around the waist band. He glared at Shizuo, but his cheeks were flushed pink. “I'm n-not a girl Shizu-can; I'll b-be fine.”
“Sure, I'll be in the living room if you need anything.”
And with that, Shizuo left the bathroom, leaving the door open a jar as he did so.
Izaya sighed and fumbled with the drawstring of the sweatpants, fingers not co-operating as he wrestled them on. He hissed as the fabric dragged over his hyper-sensitive skin which had turned a rather lovely shade of red from all of the blood rushing back into his extremities and warming them up in a rush. It left a tingling sensation in its wake which he likened to the pins and needles he got when a limb fell asleep.
He wasn't comfortable – although he wasn't as wet and cold as before – and he was still cold. In addition, his limbs were still stiff and sore from the cold and shivers. Izaya felt a little like an old man.
Under him his knees were shaking as he dragged himself to his feet, using the bathroom sink for support. He stumbled and nearly smashed his face into the door as he lost his balance. With several grumbled curses, he leaned against the fall and awkwardly made his way down the short hallway towards the living room.
Unfortunately, his knees and legs refused to carry him all the way and wound folding under him right at the end of the hall. He glared at them and tried to force himself to his feet but stopped when a pair of sock-clad feet appeared in his field of vision.
So instead he glared up at Shizuo.
“Need some help?” He smirked and reached down for the smaller informant, it just grew bigger when Izaya wordlessly reached up to him. “I'll take that as a yes.”
“Don't sound so smug...” Izaya mumbled as Shizuo swept him up into his arms. He snuggled closer, appreciating the warmth that Shizuo gave off and was offering to him so willingly. “I'm cold, you're warm; there's nothing else to it.”
“Just keep telling yourself that,” Shizuo replied, arms looped under Izaya's rear. “I'm sure the view on the Nile is lovely at this time of year.”
“Cut the sarcasm Shizu-chan.” The informant snuggled closer, his arms tightening around Shizuo's neck. He would have wound his legs around the blond's hips if he was feeling more seductive and not like an old man, but his knees felt too stiff for that.
“I wasn't being sarcastic, I was being honest.”
“Stop it; I can't keep up with you when I still feel half-frozen,” Izaya grumbled into Shizuo's neck. His eyes felt heavy and his blood felt sluggish and heavy in his veins. A giant yawn slipped past his lips. “Mm...”
Shizuo paused as he stood up, “Should I put you to bed?”
“No... too cold.” Izaya muttered. “I wanna stay with you...”
Wisely, Shizuo said nothing to that. But inside was an entirely different story: Now who's being the sentimental idiot? He shifted Izaya a little in his arms before returning to the living room. The couch wasn't really designed for cuddling, so Shizuo settled himself down on the floor.
He pulled the blanket off the couch and wrapped it around Izaya like a small child. When he sat down on the floor, Izaya snuggled closer to his chest, knees drawn up and hands fisted in the blanket and the fabric of his shirt. Shizuo was glad to see that his breathing was deep and even; the informant was probably half-asleep already and wasn't going to be moving any time soon.
Not that he cared.
With one arm loosely draped around the informant, Shizuo flipped through the channels; looking for something kind of aimless to waste some time with. He wasn't that tired and he still had to finish his hot chocolate.
Eventually he settled on watching one of the Christmas movies which happened to be airing. Well, it was in just a few days...
Shizuo took a sip of his now lukewarm hot chocolate as he watched the movie; trying his best to contain his laughter at some parts so as to not disturb the sleeping man he had cuddled up to his chest. A tired Izaya was cute, but a sleep-deprived one was downright bitchy. Clingy too, when Shizuo gave it a little more thought as he took another swig of his hot chocolate.
For some reason, it was usually Izaya who came chasing after Shizuo for whatever reason. He was the one who made sure to taunt the blond, flaunt his presence, whatever it took to get him to pursue him. It wouldn't surprise Shizuo to know that Izaya was insecure; he'd known the stupid flea since high school, had been in a strange relationship with him for equally as long.
Still, he wouldn't trade Izaya for the sweetest woman in the world. However it had happened, Shizuo was aware of his own feelings on the matter; he knew how he felt and, though he'd probably never say the words, he knew he was in love with the stupid flea.
The calm was interrupted when Izaya muttered, “I still don't get how you can shove cookies into a VCR...”
Shizuo blinked, “I thought you were asleep.”
“Can't; it's too loud.” Izaya yawned as he shook his head. “Besides, I like this movie.”
“Don't sound so incredulous Shizu-chan; I can like whatever movies I want to...” Izaya shrugged and wiggled closer while also moving to get a better view of the TV. He continued to use Shizuo's chest as a pillow though. “Why is it so surprising?”
Shizuo shrugged, “Just is. I thought that you'd be into something more... intelligent; like a thriller or something, I don't know.”
That made Izaya grin sleepily, “I'm just full of surprises.”
He felt Shizuo's arms tighten around him and he shifted against the other into a more comfortable position so that he could watch the movie better. He felt warmth flood him and he knew that he wasn't going to be moving any time soon; Namie be damned, she could close up for the night. He wasn't going home.
Shizuo tangled his legs with Izaya's, peering down at the other's bare feet before shifting just a little to cover them with his. He said nothing as they settled in to watch the rest of the movie, occasionally sharing a bit of soft laughter together. Izaya even stole a little bit of his hot chocolate and made a face at the temperature.
“It's not hot,” he complained.
“It's hot chocolate; it's supposed to be hot.” Izaya frowned. “It doesn't taste as good when it's gone cold.”
Shizuo shrugged and downed the rest of the cold hot chocolate in one swig, “Doesn't really matter, it's not so bad as to let it go to waste.”
And, of course, Izaya's stomach had to choose that time to growl loudly. The informant's cheeks turned a bright shade of red; the most color they'd exhibited all evening.
“You hungry?” Shizuo placed his mug back on the coffee table as he lifted himself to his feet, making sure not to jostle Izaya too much. Once he was back on his feet, he very carefully scooped Izaya up off the floor and deposited him on the couch.
“Hey! Put me down!” Izaya fumed, but didn't move from the couch; instead he snuggled into it and buried his feet under the cushions. His toes still felt cold.
“Stop it and answer the question. Do you want something to eat?” Shizuo crossed his arms as he stood at the end of the couch, giving Izaya a very critical eye. “I've got some soup in the cupboards; I need to go shopping tomorrow so there's not much of a selection.”
Izaya shrugged, “That's fine.”
The informant didn't flinch away when Shizuo paused to press his hand against Izaya's forehead. While he didn't have a temperature then – he was still a little cool – Shizuo was sure that he was going to wind up either sick with a fever or a bad cold in the morning. It wouldn't be the first time that staying out in the cold had gotten him stuck in bed for several days.
“Did you eat already?” Izaya felt a little tinge of discomfort at the thought of being the only one eating.
“Yeah, I did. It's past nine you know.”
Shizuo was already raiding one of the cabinets in his small kitchen, finding a can of tomato soup in one of them along with some bread that he'd left out on the counter; it was still good. He set the can on the counter next to the bread before taking a peek in the fridge; he still had some milk left and some cheese that looked fine to him.
After he'd dug his seldom used can opener out of a drawer, he emptied the soup into a pot and set it on the stove before setting a pan on another element and letting it heat up while he cut some cheese and made a sandwich. Once he was sure the pan was hot enough, he put the cheese sandwich in that. He made a mental note to pick up more soup on his way home from work tomorrow along with some cold medicine.
If he was going to be taking care of a sick Izaya than he wanted to be prepared. He'd make the soup himself if he had the time, but since his job had pretty long hours it was more efficient to just buy it canned. And maybe he'd buy some instant noodles too; the last time he'd played nursemaid for Izaya that had been all he'd been able to force the informant to eat.
Izaya sneezed and he pulled the blanket around his body a little more while grumbling, “I hate winter.”
“Of course you do; you always get stuck out in the cold. You can blame your job for that.”
Sniffling, Izaya cut back, “Not all of us are blessed with your godlike invincibility Shizu-chan. That doesn't make me fragile and my occupation has nothing to do with it.”
“You wouldn't have been shoved into a pool if it wasn't for the fact that your job makes you a lot of enemies,” Shizuo remarked as he flipped the sandwich in the pan. He carefully watched the sandwich and the soup to make sure that neither of them burned.
“It was a bucket actually.”
“Whatever, it's still your own fault that you're gonna have a cold tomorrow.”
Once the soup was bubbling and the sandwich was done, Shizuo carefully poured the soup into a bowl and scooped the sandwich onto the plate. From over the counter-table which divided the kitchen from the living room, he glanced at Izaya.
“Are you going to eat in there?”
There were times where he seriously questioned what he'd done to earn Shizuo's unfailing loyalty and, dare he think it, his love.
Shizuo placed the bowl and plate on the coffee table in front of Izaya along with a spoon before quickly returning to the kitchen to pour the informant a glance of milk. He watched as Izaya unfurled himself from his little cocoon to start eating his dinner.
“Careful, the soup's hot.”
“I can see that Shizu-chan, you don't need to point it out.” Izaya rolled his eyes as he instead reached for the sandwich, noticing that Shizuo had cut it into quarters just the way he liked it. He didn't comment on it; Shizuo knew him too well and it was slightly scary sometimes.
While Izaya slowly ate his dinner, Shizuo perched himself on the arm of the sofa and watched him. He was happy to see that the unnatural white that the informant's skin had turned when he'd first arrived had faded and was starting to look much more healthy. He might not ever admit it out loud, but Shizuo had been concerned to see Izaya look so pale. Sure the idiot flea was naturally fair skinned – it meant the marks that he left stood out all the more – but he'd looked so sickly and vulnerable like that.
It went without saying that Shizuo was worried. One day, he was sure, Izaya would get in over his head and he'd get himself killed. That scared him. It scared him a lot. Shizuo wasn't sure what he would do if he lost the flea – his flea.
Maybe he'd finally give up; Celty was already worried about his mental stability enough as it was. If he snapped it wouldn't be too surprising if it was because of Izaya; although not for reasons that most people would think. But he preferred not to think about the 'what if's because largely they were out of his hands and tended to get to complicated for him to think them all the way out; he just knew how a lot of them could end.
None of them were pretty. Screw law enforcement and justice; Shizuo would make sure that anyone who hurt his flea paid for it at his own hands. Even if it meant that he had to avenge Izaya's death.
Yep, their relationship was fucked up six ways to Sunday but Shizuo wouldn't exchange it for anything. He was content with the way things had turned out.
“You can stop staring at me now Shizu-chan.”
Izaya had finished his dinner and was looking sleepier than he had earlier. To Shizuo, he looked rather adorable with his hair tousled and eyelids drooping from the effort of keeping them open. He'd pulled the blanket back around himself and had snuggled back onto the couch, obviously intent on sleeping there.
“Oh no, you are not sleeping on my couch,” Shizuo grumbled, standing up and moving to pick Izaya up.
The informant wiggled away from him and mumbled out something unintelligent. Whatever it was Shizuo didn't hear so he continued to scoop Izaya off the couch and into his arms which earned him a rather weak squawk of protest and a, “Put me down Shizu-chan!”
“You're complaining about sleeping in a bed? I'm not cruel enough to make you sleep on the couch after you crawled here half-frozen.”
Shizuo chose not to say anything about how Izaya's actions were in contradiction to his words; the informant had snuggled closer to the blond the moment that he'd picked him up. Instead he sighed and made his way down the short hall to his bedroom; which was just across the hall from the bathroom. He'd put Izaya to bed before he went about cleaning up for the night – doing the dishes and taking care of Izaya's clothes that he'd left by the front door.
There probably would be no way to save them but he'd rather not have the stench of wet clothes permeating his apartment.
When he put Izaya to bed, the informant was practically already asleep. All he did was roll over and curl himself into a ball on his side as Shizuo pulled the blankets around him and mumble something before drifting off. He'd need the sleep; Shizuo was sure that he'd be feeling the pain from his exposure the next day.
Ah, well, Shizuo would deal with that when he had to. One thing at a time. He cast one more glance at the sleeping Izaya before slipping back out into the living room to stick the dishes in the sink and wash them before putting them away. Once that was done he turned his attention to Izaya's clothes.
There was an big rip in the shirt that Shizuo guessed he'd caused in his haste to get Izaya out of the wet, frozen garments, and the pants weren't in great condition either. Deciding it would probably be better just to get him fresh clothes, he chucked them into a garbage bag and hung the other's signature coat up to dry on one of the hooks near the door. He made a mental note to ask Celty to pick up some spare clothes for Izaya at some point in the next day or two.
With all of that done, Shizuo turned the lights off in the kitchen and living and made sure that he'd turned all of the appliances off before going back to his room.
Izaya had made himself into a small little ball on one side of the bed – for some reason he always slept on the left – and had the blankets waded up around him like a cocoon. Shizuo couldn't help smiling a little bit as he crawled into bed beside the informant.
Sliding his arms around the other, Shizuo wasn't too surprised when the small man snuggled back into him; seeking out the warmth. That just made him chuckle softly as he untangled the blankets to pull them around himself. After that he settled in for the night but made a quick mental note before he drifted off to sleep completely.
Note to self: Pick up cold medicine first thing in the morning before work.
Yes I'm shameless
and yes I'm the author!anon with the distinctive way of labeling her fills.