Work Text:
Inside a luxurious apartment, Shinjuku
It was high afternoon, but the curtains on the windows had been moved so that only a fraction of light could pass through, leaving the apartment in half-darkness.
One figure, an information broker who used to live in this same city, was leaning casually on a modern-looking desk, lips curved in an unreadable smile. A younger boy was standing at some distance, his voice trembling a little even though it kept a firm tone.
"Where have you been these past two years?"
"…"
The informant, who looked in his mid-twenties, didn’t answer nor showed any change in expression.
"I can’t speak for the city but, you know, I missed you."
The man snickered as he felt a hint of hesitation from the boy’s last words, and finally spoke:
"Is it because you lost your supplier of excitement?"
This time the younger boy smiled, but his eyes reflected something akin to melancholy.
"You know very well it’s not like that. Didn’t I tell you? Even if you hadn’t pushed things, I would have gotten myself involved anyway."
"So what is it then."
The boy averted his eyes and, hands in his pockets, took a few steps closer to the man. Even though he was perfectly aware the other knew, he still asked:
"Izaya-san… Do you know what happened that night, two years ago?"
A pleased look appeared on the face of the man called Izaya.
"Certainly. Such a show… I wish I could have seen your face with my own eyes!"
His eyes had lit up, but the tone of his talk suddenly shifted, air growing heavier.
”I have met many people ready to die by their own hand, but they were all so… boring. But you, you never disappoint me.”
"As usual, you really say strange things." the boy smiled softly and tilted his head. "Izaya-san, do you perhaps love me?"
Izaya looked surprised for a moment, but was unfazed as he answered.
"I love humans. You are above the single human. You are unpredictable and you’re all the contradictions in one, you are humanity itself. You could say that that makes you what I love most in the world." The man leaned forward and moved away from the desk, getting closer to the boy.After a pause, he added: "You sure have gotten taller, Mikado-kun."
As Izaya’s eyes gazed on him intently, the boy called Mikado ignored the comment and looked down.
"So nothing has changed for you, these past two years?" the phrase had been formulated like a question, but the tone felt matter-of-factly.
"A lot of things have changed, that’s for sure… You started wearing glasses too. They fit you well."
Ignoring once again the informant’s comments, Mikado stayed silent. Izaya brought his hands to the boy’s face, cupping his cheeks and slowly sliding his fingers over the glasses’ frame, his voice deepening.
"But you know, feelings, one’s view of the world, the heart’s true desires -whatever you want to call it- are not easy to change."
As Izaya stopped talking, Mikado finally looked up and met the other’s eyes; and in that moment, as if by mutual accord, the boys slowly closed their distance. Their lips touched lightly with languid movements as they both felt reaching an understanding. They were able to accept each other’s true nature, the one most people would run away from, or refuse to aknowledge.
A few moments later Izaya broke the kiss and their faces rested close, noses brushing. As Mikado’s hands unconsciously moved to hold onto him, a sly smile rose on his lips.
"Not that I want them to."