Their routine was as normal as any other.

And yet, it wasn't.

Because neither of them were normal.

Both did their activities like other people. The younger went to classes as the elder worked. You could almost say that the fact of they living together wasn't a big difference on either sides, and everything felt just too natural. Nothing happened, but all the time whispers and secrets were made in the middle of the night, under bed covers and wary stares.

Since, during the day, the house was always empty.

Even if they adopted a pet or invited friends, it would always be empty.

Nothing had a voice matter if they weren't there, together.

The informant only showed attention when teasing was the main intention. It was lovely to see the boy's confused look, the hesitation on steps that guided towards him. He even flinched a bit with the slightest touch, and it was always too exciting. Because the teen didn't do so in fear or doubt - but in pure, delightful anticipation.

Whenever their lips joined and eyes closed, Izaya still could see a smile on the Dollar's leader face.

Not the one he always wore; now was the smirk that sent shivers to his spine as a tongue slipped in, slowly, sharp, careful and calculated as every of the flea's words. Mikado never pretended in front of Izaya, just like he never did with humanity- But the latter was fortunate to have a reserved seat to see his show, see all the faces and expression Mikado could give only if between four walls.

"You came to me first, what happened?"

Not expected from someone who create the biggest 'color' gang in Ikebukuro, the shorter male never did the first step. Seduction from him wasn't a thing, so seeing legs set apart on his lap calmly to sit on it wasn't common.

"I'm doing a cleanup on the computer, I have to wait a bit."

Low and shy words made a soft laugh escape his partner's lips, hands resting and holding the smaller's waistline.

"What, are you saying I'm a substitute for technology, Mikado-kun?" He joked, even if it was partially right. His laugh finally ceased. "Couldn't say I'm surprised, but it still disappoints me."

The young adult always expected the worse with a smile on lips.

"Am I bothering you, Izaya-san?"

Maroon irises laid on the television screen in front of them, a reporter talking behind an abandoned building, disturbing their silence.

"That place is not haunted, only abandoned," whispered against jawline, gently, as if the announcer could listen "no, you're not. I wasn't paying attention to it anyway."

Compared to most couples, there wasn't much touch, attention or affection. They barely moved out from the sofa, shared foods or baths in certain days - and today was one of them, probably. Words unspoken, there wasn't much to fill the air between the two, only the gaze and warmth of arms on arms, legs on legs, eye on eye. There wasn't love. Not in ordinary ways.

There was more, way, way more.

"So, since you're here, how about you distract me better, hmm?"