People are so quick to make decisions, to defend themselves to the death for their beliefs. They follow their shepherds down the golden paths of their lives. If someone comes along or life throws them a curve or an obstacle, they must react through slow planning or instinct.

When these obstacles come like hurdles to a runner, instinct takes over. People make decisions based on offhand thoughts rather than reviewing their mental data.

Perhaps that was the cause of Izaya's current situation.

"I still like Kasuka more."

Simple. Basic.

It was meant to stir the man's rage. It was meant to get the blond who hated him with a deep passion to go into a fit of rage, threatening his head if he tried anything on the younger sibling that meant so much to him. It was meant to get Shizuo furious at him enough that he stormed from his office, rushing to his brother's side to protect him.

Of course Izaya would not take into account this certain situation's effect on the blond's behavior.

Papers flew into the air. His computer keyboard smashing to the floor as the monitor soon followed. The crashing and suddenly barren desktop surprised the informant. His eyes widened at the open space. Hands reached across the desk, pulling him forth from his computer chair. His knees slid across the open space to rest on the wood. Arm snaking around his waist and lips crashing into his, Izaya found himself swept into the embrace of the beast.

There was no halfway to Heiwajima Shizuo.

You were liked or you were hated.

You were friend or you were foe.

It would only stand to reason that his displays of affection were based on primal instinct. That he would be focused on nothing but the seeking and giving of pure pleasure and lust in its rawest form.

Izaya pressed his hands against the man's chest, the fabric of the man's uniform slightly damp, perhaps from rain outside? He tried to push the blond back, trying to break away from the kiss. A hand went to the back of his head, keeping his mouth right where the blond wanted it. The arm around his waist tightened.

Alphas were like that, assert dominance. That was their play after all. It was brains and brawn. The ultimate fight, the never ending struggle that they did the tango for; that's what this was.

Instinct was never Izaya's forte; nor was it his pleasure. There was little option at this point though. His carmine eyes shuttered to a close, his mouth opening to accept the blond more as his tongue shot out to fight for his right to air. He couldn't breathe with the heat of the blond, with how much the man was pressed against him, delving into his mouth.

Did he want to breathe though?

What was the purpose of air? There was no need for words. How did one speak with beasts if not through action?

So he did just that. He used actions, kissing the beast back. He felt and heard the moan a moment before he felt something slide up to rest on the desk next to his legs. Soon, another something followed. His world tilted back before Izaya saw the ceiling behind the bleach blond sun above him.

He didn't like that. No…

This was not his plan. There was no need for the ex-bartender in this. He had done his job and Izaya was grateful for his peace and quiet, however this was not in his cards.

Air rushed into his lungs suddenly, mocha eyes revealed from behind eyelids as the man panted a bit above him.

"…I… didn't know you swung that way, Shizu-chan…"

Ah, instinct. To taunt the man into embarrassment and hatred was Izaya's way. It was his shield, his monstrous strength to which the world could never compete. He was charismatic. It was a natural born talent.

However it did nothing except earn him a blinding smile, hands running along his waist as though he were an object for sale; being admired by a connoisseur looking to buy.

"I'll swing any way I want, I-za-ya-kun~"

Life threw obstacles all the time. It was… oh what was it called… God's great challenge for his people, yes. He tested them before they died through obstacle, showing them that great happiness could only come after struggle. That as deep as hatred could come, so too could love.

These obstacles were becoming a nuisance.

"Wouldn't your boss or little follower be a more suitable match for you, Shizu-chan? Someone who shares the shoe-sized intelligence of yours?"

The man leaned in, nipping along the informant's throat and neck. Every hair stood on end. Every nerve ending erupted with life, with shock and, frightfully, with arousal. He was not a man to seek out the pleasures of the body. He felt nothing behind his walls and locks. No attachment. No problem.

His arms grasp the bartender uniform as he heard the man's purred words. The sound was like sweet melted chocolate, pouring onto the dessert of the man's actions.

"I would rather have you."

Izaya hated sweet things, much preferring bitterness.

Bitterness was interesting. It held stories, it held bias and a realm of emotions that all led to showing the flaws of humans. It didn't show life's promises, only its pain and tortures. It showed character.

Sweetness…

The sun did not shine over Shinjuku's moon.

Izaya couldn't stop the man from shining over him though. He couldn't push Shizuo away at all. The man continued. Shizuo soon found his way into being able to tug the infamous jacket from Izaya's person, Izaya watching his coat flutter into the nothingness of his apartment. The black shirt following. Air caressed him as the clothing skin of his person was shed for this beast.

The camouflage that kept him in the shadows was gone, his pale skin a stark contrast to his desk. His red eyes looking up at Shizuo as the words vanished from his arsenal. What did one say to someone who was intent on having his way with them? Oh sorry, I don't feel like it did not seem to be an option.

At least, that was what his small fleeting thought was before those hands touched him again. His face grew to the color of his eyes as the honeyed words continued to be purred into his ear, filling him with the strange feeling in his person. The room became unbearably hot, too warm. Far too warm for him to be able to manage.

Was there still clothing on him?

He pressed to the suddenly cooler skin of the ex-bartender, finding solace. Teeth nipped at his ear, the sensitivity of the action sending Izaya into shivers.

"Izaya…" The man continued to speak, his words hypnotic. "Don't ever look for anyone else. Don't ever want or think of anyone else…"

So possessive, Izaya thought for a moment before that intoxicating touch went from his waist to his nipples, the thumbs successfully wiping his mind as though he were a computer to turn on at the touch of a button.

Had he been in a relationship before, Izaya wondered. Who had been under this man's attentions before? Who had been seduced on their own desk?

Was there refuge from the storm of the fortissimo of Ikebukuro?

"Don't ever want Kasuka or anyone else," the words demanded of him in that shockingly calm and dangerous tone, "you only want me… And I will never leave you…"

Never?

Those words were like a poison, taking over his system. The blond's name escaping the informant's mouth before the blond took what he wanted. He touched him, touched him in a manner to which Izaya had never felt before.

This touch, this need that the blond stirred in him. This was what those cheating loves sought from their affairs. This tantalizing passion that spiked his senses, this was lust.

Instincts. Izaya was reminded why he hated them now. It was for the rushes like this that people became sloppy, making decisions based on those instincts rather than the facts placed before them.

He had to escape. He had to run.

There was no escape though, only a mounting need to stay forming. He wanted to remain under this sunlight, to bask in the radiance of this new world he had stumbled upon through his instincts.

"Izaya," the voice purred.

"Please, Shizu…o…"

The fleeting touches vanished, his bottom receiving something slightly slender. It moved within him, foreign to the lands of Izaya's insides, but not unwelcomed. The informant could only remain in awe of these feelings. His insides being stretched through one after another, fingers slid inside him. With each finger, grew a greater need for more. He felt selfish, like he should deserve the right to covet whatever the blond placed inside of him. When the fingers vanished, his dug into Shizuo's back. His eyes blazed in outrage at the empty feeling.

Shizuo would not live if he remained unfilled.

The thought was short-lived as the man thrust himself inside of him. Izaya felt the urge to arch against him, an action that he was quickly happy about partaking in. The filled feeling went beyond that as pleasure wracked his frame. His sight going into and out of focus before his eyes completely shut.

The bartender's name came forth from his lips. Once. Twice. However many times he said it, it always seemed to make the man move faster. The speed increased more and more, driving him insane. How fast could he- and the tempo quickened.

The pleasure mounted.

Air left him, abandoning the land Izaya had come to.

There was no room with these instincts and basic emotions. There was no gray in his world right then. There was no middle ground.

There was hate, and there was love.

There was friend, and there was foe.

There was need and there was lust.

There was Shizuo and there was a need for more and more of him. Izaya held the man as his orgasm encroached upon his sanity. His body went limb in the blond's arms. The life ripped from his bones as the pleasure coursed through him. It poured forth from him going everywhere.

He could hardly focus as the blond carried him eventually from the desk, through the home until they reached the familiar territory of Izaya's bedroom.

"Get some rest, Izaya."

Rest…

There was no rest for the wicked, and it looked like he had bitten from the apple of discord.

~.~

A/N: Danke for the patience, hope you don't mind it being unedited. I need to bother to get a beta still.