Real Estate

Rated: E – NSFW

Length: 2,300

Real Estate

Izaya knew this place was a great idea. It wasn’t just the view he was savoring, though it was certainly interesting enough; the apartment was at the very top of its building. It had two floors and a terrace. There were no neighbors. It was almost like a house on a rooftop, and they were all alone in it.

But the best thing was the fact that this agency let them visit without supervision and with up to an hour to take in every nook and cranny they could find—and it was half because the agency was affiliated with Asuki, for whom Izaya had been dealing very sweet information, and half because Izaya made sure no one would be able to accompany them that day.

Asuki didn’t put up much of a fight. It was just a house, although a very expensive one.

“It’s so nice,” Shizuo murmured at the window. He hadn’t stopped looking into it ever since he came in. “You can see pretty far down but people can’t see you.”

“Mmh,” Izaya replied, looking at the side of Shizuo’s face, at the white sunlight brushing past long eyelashes. “The sight is certainly something.”

“How much did you say rent was again?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”

Shizuo bristled, and turned to look at him. With the window behind him his hair looked like a golden halo. “Look,” he said, “I’m going to be paying half of the—”

“No you won’t,” Izaya replied, closing the old flip-phone he was holding noisily.

“What do you mean I won’t?”

Izaya walked up to him slowly. For the hundredth time that day he regretted the feeling of dress pants on him and how bad they made his legs look, but even with them, Shizuo was looking down instead of up, and his cheeks were flushing to pink.

It was infinitely flattering.

Izaya wrapped a hand around the black tie at Shizuo’s neck and pulled down gently. “We’ll be getting a very sweet sale if we take it today,” he said, and kissed the side of Shizuo’s chin. This close to his skin he could feel all the goosebumps his words created. “It won’t be much more than what I’m paying for my current accommodations. You won’t have to pay a cent.”

“You’re a damn fool if you think I’m going to let you house me for free,” Shizuo growled into his temple.

“Don’t you wanna be my sugar baby?”

He didn’t have to look up to see the way Shizuo blushed at this. Years later, and he was still the same as when they first kissed. Endearing and irredeemably cute.

Izaya’s smile only grew when Shizuo fit a foot between his, brushed their legs close together. Warmth spread through his belly languidly. “That’s only if we agree to take it today, though.”

“We will.”

Shizuo snorted. “We haven’t even visited anything besides the living-room.”

Izaya leaned back to look pointedly at the terrace right outside, gleaming gold in the sunlight. “Do you want to pass up on this?”

“No,” Shizuo admitted. Then he leaned down to brush their lips together—he pulled back with a smirk when Izaya opened his mouth. “But at least let’s visit the master bedroom.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Izaya asked sweetly.

“I’m pretty sure it’s a good idea to visit a house in full if you plan to buy it—”

Izaya’s mouth came to Shizuo’s neck to breathe in against the warmest of his skin, to feel his pulse against his lips. He licked them briefly. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to resist jumping you right now.”

There was a moment of silence. Then—”You’re insatiable,” Shizuo said loudly, with laughter and embarrassment as stark on his voice as irritation was. “We had sex this morning—”

“Yes, well, I’m feeling like it again,” Izaya cut in, mouth pressed against the hollow of Shizuo’s neck. He almost felt like biting into it and finding out if he could eat his heart that way.

Shizuo’s hands came up to hold his hips, and Izaya bit his lips so he wouldn’t breathe out too hard. “I’m not fucking you here.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to engage in full anal sex with me in our empty house, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo choked a little. “It’s not our house yet.”

“It might as well be,” Izaya replied, batting his eyelids—feeling satisfied when Shizuo’s left hand slid from his hip to rest at the back of his thigh, right under his ass. “Sorry,” he added, smiling. “I know you prefer when I look like my clothes are just body paint.”

“I prefer when you’re not hitting on me in the middle of a house we haven’t bought yet,” Shizuo said through his teeth.

“Please,” Izaya scoffed, hunching forward until his hips pressed against Shizuo’s. Shizuo wasn’t hard yet, but it would only be a matter of time. His face was red, his lips open, his breath warm; he didn’t make a move to avoid the way Izaya brushed them with his, touched his tongue to the curve of his lower lip; he let out a short gasp when Izaya rubbed against his front with the whole of his body and he felt how hard hewas.

“God,” Shizuo said, and his mouth opened as well to meet Izaya’s, wet and warm. Izaya closed his eyes and pressed forward with his hips again, rubbing the outline of his cock against the seam of Shizuo’s jeans, feeling the skin of his thigh pulse when Shizuo’s hand pressed on it to pull him even closer. Both of his hands met around Shizuo’s neck and he bit into Shizuo’s lip softly, gasping only when Shizuo’s leg finally went up between his to rest against his crotch.

“I wish you could fuck me against the window right now,” Izaya breathed hotly.

Shizuo’s eyes drowned in black. “Yeah?” he said. The hand at the back of Izaya’s thigh went up, slipped between the line of his pants and his skin, slid down again to rest fully against his ass, skin-to-skin. “You been thinking about this?”

Izaya laughed shakily. “Oh, Shizuo, I have plans for you and me.”

And Shizuo was silent for a moment. He didn’t move, didn’t vulgarly squeeze Izaya’s ass the way Izaya wished he would, or rub his knee into the crux of Izaya’s legs. So Izaya breathed in coldly and readied himself to be rejected—but Shizuo palmed his hip gently and said, “Tell me.”

He didn’t. Not immediately. First Izaya looked up to his face and kissed him again, open-mouthed. He pushed Shizuo forward and onto the window-wall, and when he pulled back Shizuo stood there, his shirt rumpled, his hard cock raising a line into the seam of his jeans—his hair painted golden around his head and making him look like he ought to be worshipped in church.

“I don’t like giving head,” Izaya murmured, looking into his eyes. “But in the past few minutes I’ve considered dropping to my knees and sucking you off at least twice.”


Izaya opened Shizuo’s belt with trembling fingers; he didn’t bother with the button holding his jeans up but rather pressed his hand flat against Shizuo’s belly and slipped it whole into the space behind the denim, until he could wrap his fingers around hot skin. “Shizu-chan.”

“You’re so fucking hot,” Shizuo said, pulling Izaya in by his ass, making fire shoot through Izaya’s chest like an arrow. “God, Izaya…”

“I think most of all I want to be naked as the day I was born with my back to the glass and you fucking into me—”

Shizuo grabbed the hem of Izaya’s shirt and pulled it above his head harshly. One of the buttons knocked into Izaya’s front teeth on the way, and he laughed, even as he struggled to untangled his arms from his sleeves behind himself while Shizuo made short work of his pants as well. He still had one foot caught in it when Shizuo lifted him as if he weight nothing and pressed him against the window.

The cold of the glass worked its way into his skin with a violent shiver, and Izaya moaned this time, no breath or laugh or low words to mask his want.

Shizuo kissed him so hard his head knocked against the glass. He must’ve noticed, because he displaced Izaya’s weight onto one hand only, the other coming up to brace behind Izaya’s head and scratch at his scalp, and Izaya licked into his mouth and tried to ignored how light-headed he felt, knowing Shizuo could just do that.

It never failed to upend him. It never failed to heat his entire body up like a furnace. Shizuo holding him up with one hand or pressing him down with two fingers like it was nothing—and doing it with nary a bruise to show. Never a mark to touch with his fingers when he found himself alone afterward.

“I wish I had time to prepare,” Izaya moaned again. “If I’d known I wouldn’t have done anything this morning just so you could have me right here—”

“You’re so hot for this,” Shizuo interrupted, face incredulous and pupils blown open by desire.

“Are you surprised?”

Shizuo’s hand came back down; Izaya’s shoulders, his arm, his belly, under the underwear he was still wearing to clutch his cock in its grip—and Izaya put his hand back into Shizuo’s pants as well to reciprocate and to feel the warm and girth of him, shivering in his palm.

And then—”Look at yourself,” Shizuo said, and Izaya saw white as his fingers tightened and rubbed against him, rough for lack of lubricant—”You got hard just thinking about it.”

“I get hard about you all the time, Shizu-chan,” Izaya breathed, “this isn’t really headlines-worthy.”

But Shizuo shook his head. “I could feel you watching me,” he said. “You were just watching me. And suddenly you’re there naked and horny and with your face looking like this.”

Like what? Izaya thought; and Shizuo dropped him to the ground again slowly, so that he could have a hand for Izaya’s face, to brush it and cup it where the skin was a vivid red. “You look amazing,” he said.

Izaya could see him better like this, with himself en contrejour. Every line on his face and the ocre of his eyes. And Shizuo could see Izaya cut against the light as he himself had been earlier.

Izaya grabbed him by the tie again and kissed him rather linger on the thought. Shizuo replied with sweetness where he was looking for strength, and laughed at him when he groaned in disappointment. He ended up wrapping one thigh around Shizuo’s hip and jerking him off roughly so he’d stop getting distracted—the curt moan Shizuo gave out at that was settling. They adopted a rhythm, Shizuo’s knee between Izaya’s thighs again and Shizuo’s hand holding his cock, Shizuo kissing the side of his face and panting in turn, their fingers getting slicker with every minute. And it was almost comfortable enough like this—with Shizuo’s body holding Izaya flat against the window and the expanse of the city open behind him—that Izaya wanted to drop to his knees again in more than just theory and take Shizuo into his mouth, with the certainty that it would be enough to bring both of them off.

The thought eased him into orgasm, and he spilled into Shizuo’s hand without the possibility to vocalize his heat; Shizuo kissed him as though trying to swallow sound itself. Izaya let every muscle in his body convulse one by one, toes curling into the socks he hadn’t taken off. Shizuo tensed, brought his sullied hand into his own pants and around Izaya’s. He squeezed them together around himself for a minute longer, and Izaya stood in still expectation until warmth burst onto his fingers and Shizuo sagged against him.

His eyesight was blurry. He kept his hand into Shizuo’s pant for a moment, right against where thigh turned into hip. He soaked the warmth from Shizuo’s skin and wet his fingers with his sweat as well as his come.

Eventually Shizuo moved. He pressed a kiss to Izaya’s slack lips and straightened up, looking at him fondly. “Bastard,” he said.

Izaya blinked groggily. It took a long while before he was able to find an answer. “Monster,” he settled on, too weak and too late. All Shizuo did was smile and hold their clean hands together warmly as if to say, It’s okay, I’m right here.

Lately, against everything he would’ve thought years ago, Izaya was finding this ritual something to be desired. Something almost as pleasant as kissing before sex was.

He shook his head. With one foot he dragged his clothes back toward himself before unsticking himself from the glass with a wince—and indeed, when he looked back, the otherwise spotless window was sporting a sweat stain in the shape of him.

He pinched Shizuo’s arm when Shizuo laughed but accepted the tissues the other gave him with a blush, realizing that he hadn’t planned that far ahead. Wiping himself to a semblance of propriety was easy enough. Cleaning the glass wasn’t.

“Well,” Shizuo said roughly, looking at the window while Izaya put his clothes back on. “It would be kinda rude to not buy the place after doing that.”

Izaya pushed his head through the collar of his shirt with a huff. “You won’t even visit the master bedroom?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Izaya realized he could feel Shizuo looking at him from the side. Though he itched to face him, he didn’t move. He allowed Shizuo this; he looked at the setting sun outside and as far down onto the street as he could. At every window he could see in the distance.

He felt Shizuo walk up to him and link their hands together, still warm from each other’s skin; and they both looked at everywhere that they could see and that no one could see them.

There was no reason to hesitate about the house.

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