A/N: Just a silly drabble. :3

Written a while ago. Please enjoy.

"Fuck that, and fuck you. There is NO way I'm putting THAT on. Eat shit." Izaya shoots, putting up his hands as if to shield himself from significant evil.

"Damn it! It isn't that bad!" Shizuo growls, biting down on the cigarette dangling from his lips. He tosses the black and white getup on the mattress beside the raven-haired informant.

Izaya scoffs with a subtle smirk. "Have you SEEN yourself? I am NOT putting that on."

Shizuo's frustration deepens. "Are you implying something about the way I dress, flea?"

Bravely, Izaya rolls his eyes just before tussling his wet hair, as if to shake it into it's usual style. He giggles. "What's wrong with not wanting to look like you, of all people, Shizu-chan?"

"Well fuck!" the blond's frustration multiplies, but because of the name rather than the insult. "Start making sense won't you?"

"What's there to make sense of?" Izaya breathes, falling back onto the bed. "I just don't want to wear your butler outfit. Is that so wrong?"

"Well what else do you expect to wear? Your clothes are soaked! AND IT'S NOT A FUCKING BUTLER OUTFIT!"

Izaya waves his hand, as if to shoo Shizuo away. "Hang 'em out to dry. Use a blow dryer. I don't care. But I'm not putting that uniform on my body."

"ME? Why me?"

"Because you're the idiot that spilled the contents of that coffee machine all over me. So you should do it."

Shizuo growls for the umpteenth time, whilst grinding his teeth. "Just put some clothes on, will you?"

"Neee. They're too big."

"Izaya-kun… You can't just sit there, naked, all night."

A sinister grin spreads across Izaya's face, straight up to his bloodlust orbs. He swishes his damp bangs out of his eyes just slightly, and bats his eyelashes like some sort of temptress. And just as he has intended, Shizuo catches a glimpse of this seductive move from his closest "frenemy." Immediately, cheeks flare red, while eyes grow wide. He knows before the thought crosses his mind that Izaya has done this to him on purpose, just to get him flustered. Just to make him want the slimy louse.

Yet, even Shizuo can't deny that the informant really does look tempting - like he could be so easily taken in his position. On his back. Ivory skin still glistening from the light remnants of leftover water on his skin. Naked beneath that cheap white towel. Nothing to wear besides Shizuo's own clothes, paired with the refusal to wear them.

Sexual tension thickens in the air.

Both men, still young and full of energy, feel the heat rising between them.

And it's all Heiwajima Shizuo can do to go for the human gold sprawled out across his mattress; to claim him then and there.

Fuck the clothing. He was going to end up tearing it off anyway.