He dreamed of flames, engulfing an entirely destroyed city. Clutching his switchblade in his hand, he anticipated the monster in its chaos. He knows he's close, he can feel him, a controlled tension always resonating between them.

He wanted to reveal the true manifestation of the creature that lived within a mortal body. Fully formed, beautiful, with raw terror. He'll fight him, show the world who he truly was, and finally be rid of his presence. This is what the creature deserved.

He wrinkled his nose, eyes burning from the flames, he looked around and heard the growling drawing closer. The thumping on the ground vibrated along his feet and up his body. He waited, tightening his hold on the blade. This is it, this is how he'll finally have his victory. This is what he's been waiting for since they met in...in...in…

"Izaya!"

His eyes opened, and he sucked in a harsh breath, but he flinched when a shadow covered his view and a body appeared. A man with blond hair that looked ready for another round of dye to cover his dark roots, and the usual sunglasses are gone from his nose. He's still partially inside his dream, and partially out in reality when the body leans into his own. A weight that feels comforting and frightening at the same time.

And a nose pressed against his own, eyes closed, and his name is whispered from his lips onto his nose, centimeters away. "Izaya...wake up."

He blinks a few times, trying to remember. "I am…"

The man nudges their noses, his lips close to Izaya's. "You're having that dream again."

Izaya isn't sure what's going on. His memory is still hazy, and all he can smell is smoke, but he thinks it's coming from the man lying slightly on top of him. "What dream?"

"The one where you're reenacting us killing each other."

Izaya freezes, and the dream appears, but there's no anticipation of fear or even the rage. All he can feel is this odd swirling need to lean forward, and he does, listening to his idle mind.

He closes his eyes, humming, he presses their lips together. "I was."

"Did you kill me this time?" he asked, kissing him again.

Izaya shakes his head. "Not this time."

Shizuo opens his eyes, and Izaya stares at them, and he can't help but smile. "What is it, flea?"

"You look funny," Izaya replies, pushing him on his back and sitting up, he rubs his eyes and recalls they're in Shizuo's crappy apartment. "You didn't make me any coffee?" Frowning at the empty bed side table.

"I don't buy coffee," Shizuo says, closing his eyes. "It's early, Izaya. Go back to sleep."

"Why did you wake me up?" Izaya asked, leaning down but not getting close.

"Cause you were jabbing me in the side while muttering my name and calling me a monster. And then you started flailing…" Shizuo opened his eyes, brows furrowed, "why do you keep having that dream?"

Izaya shrugs, leaning on Shizuo and smiling at him. "Maybe I still want to kill you."

Shizuo rolled his eyes, his hand falling on the top of Izaya's head and caressing the strands. "You can try, but it didn't end well last time."

Izaya leaned his head on Shizuo's chest and remembers the night filled with bright lights of the city instead of fire. Shizuo had let him go, and saved his life. He had done things that made him angry. Except, days went by, and here they were, lost in a state of mind that told him this wasn't any better, and wasn't any worse.

Izaya leaned forward and kissed Shizuo's lips, grinning down at him. "Mind if I stay one more night?"

"If you stop hogging the blankets," Shizuo said, his hand trailing down Izaya's side and bringing him closer.

"Don't blame me, your bed is small, and we haven't slept with anyone...well we both don't need to actually know who we spend our nights with," Izaya said, turning his head and planting his mouth on Shizuo's.

"When has anyone ever wanted to spend a night with you?" Shizuo asked, his eyes half opened.

Izaya smirked, nudging their noses. "Don't judge, Shizu-chan, just because I want to kill you, doesn't mean I don't like spending time with you."

"Counterproductive, flea," Shizuo murmured, "you have to work on that."

There was a lot he had to work out, but it didn't matter to him. He found himself in this little apartment, in this little bed, with a man who spent most of his time throwing things at him, only for them to end up wasting nights with each other. He didn't think that was a waste of time.

He called that progress.

Word Count: 795

Notes: This was inspired by a video on yt, but the song is actually what inspired me. :)

Jason Chen Cover - One More Night. (Orig. Maroon 5)

Am I getting better at writing romance, or is it still cheesy? Damn it. I'm trying my best, but sometimes I think it's because of the lack of love I received growing up from my family, friends, and my lack of interest in dating. LOL.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.

Reviews are appreciative. No flames or bashing please.