Title: Dancing In The Rain
Author: MistressKiko
Rating: T
Pairing: Shizuo x Izaya
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters!

Shizuo's POV

This cafe is not the one we traditionally visit, but I like it. Cream-colored wallpaper with burgundy trim, accentuated by small golden lamps fastened securely to the walls. The lamps ware on, however the light emitting from the bulbs is unneeded due to the large glass window in front of the cafe, allowing the light of the day to seep inside.

It is a decent-sized place; not too big, but not too small. Ten small tables in all, only four of which are occupied, and that is counting the one my patient and I are sitting at.

… heh. My 'patient' is really my best friend of seven years, but due to the current circumstances, we'll call him a patient.

So my patient, Orihara Izaya, is looking rather vexed today, slouching down in his chair and blowing into his straw. He waits until his melon soda bubbles up until it nearly overflows out of the glass, and then waits some more as each bubble silently pops, before repeating the process.

With his eyebrows scrunching together and his cheeks puffing up with air every time he blows into the straw, I find myself unable to stop a grin from gracing my lips. Because really, he just looks so damn adorable.

Is it callous of me to find my best friend's chagrin entertaining?

I watch him scowl when one of the bubbles pops on his nose.

… nah.

"Don't you look cheerful," Izaya speaks, ruby eyes staring me down accusingly.

"Don't you look depressing," I shoot back. Izaya rolls his eyes, setting his melon soda on the table and crossing his arms, looking out the window in a huff. After a quick chuckle, I rest my elbows on the table and lean forward, "So what was it this time? Completely broke? Weird habits? Hated otoro?"

That last one is kind of a jab to show how flimsy of a reason Izaya needs to turn a potential partner down.

"He was inane," Izaya spat, body bristling, "It was like talking to a wall!"

I laugh.

Izaya doesn't find it as funny as I do.

"Shizu-chan!" He whines the nickname I've been stuck with since the first day I met him, snatching his melon soda back up and taking a proper drink before continuing, "I'm so sick of this. Where is this man who's going to sweep me off my feet and run off with me into the sunset? And then fuck me senseless every night?"

Ah, yes, he has such tact.

This is why I call him my patient. Because I have become his counselor; his love counselor. Izaya is one of those guys who despises the mere thought of being single and tries to hook up with people left and right. However, very few people meet Orihara Izaya's very, very high standards. This setting, with him and I in a cafe while he broods, is becoming quite a common occurrence.

But I don't mind. In all actuality, I welcome those phone calls where he practically demands me to meet up with him at a cafe, because I know they signify another date-gone-wrong. Yes, it's a little mean to welcome Izaya's crushed hopes, but... well... I can't help it if I've been in love with the man for three years.

Yeah, three years. Kinda crazy, huh?

Why haven't I done anything about it? That's pretty self-explanatory, just by this situation. It's a blow to my pride when Izaya is on such a desperate search for 'the one' and I have been here, right by his side, for so long now and yet... he has never even considered me. I'm just the referee in his love dilemmas.

I could never measure up to Izaya's standards anyway.

So I continue to play the role of the confidant, indulging in our close friendship as much as I can without giving myself away.

"Just let things happen naturally," I advise, though I know I've told him this a million times before, "Your seeking out guys and rushing into relationships tactic is clearly not working."

"But I'm lonely!" Izaya exclaimed, leaning on his elbows and mimicking my pose, "Please, teach me your single ways! You haven't dated anyone in years!"

It wouldn't be right to date someone when my heart is with you.

"You can survive being single, you know," I sigh, shaking my head back and forth at his dramatics.

"Maybe you can," Izaya mutters, slumping back into his chair and pointing to himself, "But this is just too sexy to waste."

Amen.

But I just snort, grabbing the strawberry milkshake that has probably half-melted by now. No, the cafe doesn't serve them. I had to get it from the McDonalds across the street, but as the cold sweet flavor hits my tongue, I deem it completely worthwhile.

Funny how I love sweet things and the man sitting across from me is so very sour.

"What exactly are you waiting for, Izaya? Some hot guy who throws money at you, can have intelligent conversation, has an insatiable libido, and will be at your beck-and-call? Sorry but that's like a one-in-a-mill- no, not even. A one-in-a-trillion chance."

"Well that would definitely be nice," Izaya replied, grinning. His grin faded just a bit as he turned back to the window, "But no. Doesn't have to be all that. Just..."

I stare, transfixed for a split second when Izaya's facade drops and raw emotion fills those crimson eyes. It sends a pang to my heart, because I do know that underneath all this whining and playful banter, Izaya truly does want to find someone special.

"... I want someone who takes me dancing in the rain!" Izaya finishes, a wide smile on his face. That single moment of truth fades away like it never was.

"... dancing in the rain," I state dryly.

"Yeah, yeah! That would be totally romantic. And if the guy is wearing a white t-shirt, it'd be even better," Izaya spoke, wriggling his eyebrows.

"You're hopeless," I remark, smiling.

"Wrong, Shizu-chan! I'm very hopeful!" Izaya challenges, standing up rather abruptly, "Now this hopeful man is going to go to the restro- !"

My eyes widen when Izaya turns too quickly and bumps right into someone. This someone was holding a cup of coffee that has now splashed onto a pristine white suit and dribbled down on his shoes.

Jeez, Izaya.

"Er... sorry!" Izaya apologizes, looking like a deer caught in headlights. The man, an older gentlemen with short black hair and a small scar visible on the left side of his forehead, stared down at his body in mild annoyance. He was dressed rather nicely; professionally. The coffee stain looked comical.

"... it's quite alright," the man says, clearly perturbed despite his words, as he reaches for the napkin dispenser on our table and starts patting at the mess.

Izaya is eying this man. I can tell. Probably because he clearly has money. Izaya, you're such a greedy bastard.

And cruel, though you don't know you are.

"I'm really sorry about that. Wasn't watching what I was doing. Can I buy you another cup of coffee?" Izaya offers nicely, and I inwardly gag.

"Most people would offer to pay for what was damaged," the man replied in a controlled voice. I determined this man probably had to deal with people a lot, and understood how to express his emotions unobtrusively.

"Lucky for you, I'm not most people," Izaya says flirtatiously. This gets the man's attention, for he pauses in his cleaning and looks back at Izaya, "So, another cup?"

And that was the fateful day Shiki came into our lives.

And I hated him with my entire being.

"I talked to him for four hours straight last night! The man is amazing with conversation, and his life is just so interesting! He bought me otoro, Shizu-chan!" Izaya rambles on.

I hold the phone up to my ear, thankful we're on the phone, otherwise Izaya could see the scowl I have on my face. It'd been almost a week since he met Shiki and they had apparently been getting along just dandy.

"Isn't he a little too old for you?" I ask, taking extra precaution to keep any trace of malice out of my voice.

"Hmm... ten years is kind of a big gap, but hey, I don't necessarily mind!"

I tap my fingers on the arm of my couch.

"Well, we'll have to see how this goes," I reply with little enthusiasm, "Anyway, you do remember it's your turn to pay for the pizza on Saturday, right?"

"You can sound just a little more supportive, you know," Izaya says dubiously, before clicking his tongue, "And no-can-do this Saturday! I have a date!"

He sounds incredibly smug about that fact.

I, on the other hand, am upset.

"Izaya, Saturday is our arcade night," I reason, attempting to not sound needy. But damn it, it's tradition! Every Saturday we go to the arcade and pig out on pizza! Hello, best friend here.

"No big deal if we skip one Saturday, Shizu-chan! You don't want to stop me from finding the love of my life, now do you?"

Yes. Yes, I do. If it's not me.

… ugh, now I'm being selfish.

"Fine. Then it'll still be your turn to pay on the following Saturday."

"Haha, deal!"

Only, that following Saturday came and went just like this one.

I was seeing less and less of Izaya and getting more and more bothered every time he'd call just to brag about Shiki.

It stung.

And I was unsettled. Because I knew Izaya was being taken from me. None of his past boyfriends made Izaya's voice sound like that. So... blithe.

Damn myself for never having the courage to just ask...

…

When weeks turned into months, Izaya's calls were getting less and less frequent, and I eventually stopped answering them. I didn't want to hear about Shiki anymore, I didn't want to be told Izaya couldn't meet up with me, and I didn't want my chest to keep burning like this every time I thought of the man.

It helped. Kind of.

But I still missed him like crazy.

While growing up, it's just a normal part of life to move on, leaving some old friends behind and forming new relationships. Remaking your life as you find who you really are. I didn't have a problem with it. I just always assumed Izaya would be going through it right alongside me. And why would I think otherwise, when we had been glued to each others' sides for seven years?

I'm such an idiot. So what if Izaya had dated a multitude of guys in the past and they never amounted to anything? That didn't mean the pattern would be continuous. But my mind had convinced me of such a thing, and now I felt... lost. I quickly grew sick of 'what might have been' thoughts.

Izaya and I saw each other now and then, of course. We lived in the same town, it was almost impossible not to bump into each other. There was never any ill-will in those moments. Just a greeting and a smile; small talk.

It just wasn't the same. It couldn't be the same, considering the circumstances.

But this wasn't some soap opera. I wasn't going to go running after him and declare my love, nor was I going to go into a fit of depression and coop myself up in my room. Real life moves on.

I only shed tears once.

And then a little over four months passed.