“I'm sorry, could you repeat that?”
Shizuo looked over from his spot on the couch. Half his weight was supported by his palm he’d nestled in a mop — his professional hairstyle retired for the day.
The nonchalant dismissal felt more like an intentional mock. Izaya almost believed Shizuo had completely forgotten what he'd said as it wasn't unlike him to say something offhand, be completely sincere, and forget immediately.
Izaya adhered his scrutiny upon his partner and decided it didn't apply in this case.
This wasn't just a casual utterance — an unconscious curse from a toe stub.
“Uh… I asked you to pass the remote.” Shizuo returned to his variety show.
Laughter erupted above the murmured background noise, he joined the lot with a chuckle.
Izaya nudged Shizuo's thigh, “that was five minutes ago. Don't toy with me.”
He repeated the action until a hand smothered the rapid fire.
“Like you're doing with me?”
“Yes.” Shizuo shoved Izaya's foot over the cushion edge.
This wasn't a habitual 'welcome home’ nor an offering of appreciation before eating one's meal.
True nature aside, the blond deviated from taking the comment seriously.
Which was the exact reason why it annoyed Izaya, regardless of how humourous the situation would have been should he not have been a participant. Watching the scene play out in a secluded cafe in the stall next to him would’ve been good entertainment. Dropping eaves on a couple passing by at a Summer festival would’ve been a reason to change his direction against the stream of attendees to hear the entire conversation.
Though it wasn’t either of those setups or others like of the sort; it was a toned down version of what would occur in the romantic sitcom that just Shizuo clicked past.
“You’re treating this too lightly.”
“I’m not.”
Another switch of TV stations flashed a scene from a primetime drama while a denial of feelings screamed through the speakers with anguish.
“You don’t get to decide that,” Izaya pulled himself up from his reclined position and scooted along the fabric surface between them.
“Why not?”
Saturated animation overlayed the couple and suddenly painted Izaya and Shizuo as characters in an anime.
“Because, Shizu-chan, I’m the one receiving your comment.”
Shizuo placed the remote between them as a barrier and settled into watching the new show. Izaya glared at the damned thing before he knocked it away and leaned forward while bracing himself on the other's hand he pinned.
“I despise you.”
Shizuo snorted, “that’s too bad.”
“Why are you being so aggravating?”
He rolled his eyes when Shizuo suggested that a flighty high school student had finished Izaya’s thought while he tilted his head towards the screen to present the protagonist’s response as his own.
“Is that any way to say you love me?”
“Izaya. Shut up.” A lilted smile developed, light notes of a soft laugh reeled Izaya back — his blush highlighted with cartoonish colour.
Unintentionally, he obeyed. Speechless, he drew his legs up and off to his side, took in an exasperated breath and leaned in favour of Shizuo’s shoulder. Curmudgeonly he, went back to scrolling through the backlog of his chatroom.
[Tanaka Tarou] I’m not sure she’ll reciprocate this time either /sighs/
[Setton] !!!
[Setton] You told her you loved her?
[Bakyura] When did you get to be so slick?
[Bakyura] You weren’t forward before
[Bakyura] Did you learn tricks of the trade from me?
[Bakyura] My playboyish nature must’ve finally rubbed off on you
[Saika] Signing off
[Setton] Oh, Saika you were here?
[Saika] Sorry
[Tanaka Tarou] Haha, there’s no reason to be sorry
“Seriously. Stop being so unpredictable, Shizu-chan. Go die already.”
Shizuo flicked Izaya and went back to his show.
—
AN: A quick drabble. An excuse to write a tsundere Izaya.
