A/N: I'm really surprised that it's been a year since I last wrote fan-fiction, not to mention this is my first attempt at a Durarara! fan-fiction. So, in other words, this is my attempt at writing fan-fiction for a series I've only recently finished when my I happen to be pretty rusty (at least with fan-fiction). I think I might've failed. Haha. But, ah, there's always room for improvement later. If you happen to spot any errors, please let me know! I believe there's something similar to this somewhere on fan-fiction, too.

Also, I originally referred to Shizuo's glasses being purple because of some fan art I was looking at. If you happened to find a synonym for "purple" that escaped me, please do tell me!

Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara!, sadly. It belongs to someone far more amazing whose name I can never remember the spelling of.

Deal

Izaya was running. With the speed of a jaguar and the nimbleness of your average rodent, he was running. Red eyes didn't need to glance to and fro for an escape as the informant knew every nook and cranny in the city better than he did the back of his own hand.

"Izaaayaaa-kuuun," Shizuo growled, allowing a cocky smile to spread across Izaya's face. One might ask why he was running boundlessly away from the blond, but that was self-explanatory just by looking at him, at least when one considered what he was spinning in one of his hands.

What he had just happened to be the azure shades that Shizuo so often wore.

"Konnichiwa, Shizu-chan," he called, still spinning the sunglasses in his hand before he slipped them on, sliding them onto his nose and nimbly making his getaway as another sign - a stop sign - flew past him and, of course, missed him by just a hair - a hair that he had planned to be missed from the very start. "So predictable, Shizu-chan!"

He was smiling as he slipped into an alley, eyeing the visible opening opposite of where he'd entered.

"Izaaayaaa!"

Said informant turned to Shizuo suddenly, still smiling as Shizuo too screeched to a halt, eyeing him suspiciously, as if he knew he were plotting, which was understandable; Orihara Izaya always seemed to be plotting someone's downfall. Izaya was tempted to laugh at the man's antics. "How about a deal, Shizu-chan?"

His expression didn't change.

"Come on, Shizu-chan," he said with his usual smile. "You do something for me... and I'll give you your shades back."

He could see that Shizuo was only going to remain suspicious, because Orihara Izaya always had a plan. He always did and Shizuo knew that.

"Fine," he said after an excruciating moment and the informant could not resist the devilish giggle of having won. Shizuo liked his sunglasses, he'd imagine, and it was only natural he'd want them back. "What do you want me to do?"

Izaya shook his head, as if to say he was not about to tell the blond what he was plotting. He couldn't possibly expect to be told; this was Orihara Izaya, after all.

Then, Izaya made a motion for him to follow as he took a few steps backwards, then turned on his heel with hardly a pause and started leading the other to wherever it was he wanted him to go, still wearing the sunglasses that happened to be his , really, Izaya was not leading him anywhere in particular. Rather, he had no idea where he was taking the male as Izaya had woken up this morning craving something rather... odd: Company.

He hated to admit it, but he was lonely.

Really, he didn't think he had anyone else he could turn to; Shizuo was one person he did see regularly,besides Namie, but she was so busy thinking about her brother that he was surprised she had even half a mind to do what he told her to. Not to mention, he doubted she'd be very interesting to talk to for very long.

For Izaya, who had no one to speak casually with, he thought tat was really what he needed right now. It was such a strange, intense desire for some kind of computer; it was on the verge of driving him insane.

"Shizuo," he said, dropping the suffix for once as they strode side by side down the sidewalk, earning a few odd, fearful stares from nearby pedestrians who likely didn't want to get caught in one of their infamous spats. "Your strength must scare everyone off," he said suddenly, "Do you ever feel lonely?"

"No," Shizuo replied flatly. Shizuo's quick answer made his stomach twist with a sadness that was hardly unknown to the ostracized young man. To say the least, Izaya was jealous that the man wasn't ravaged by these same emotions. He didn't suffer from this reoccurring affliction like Izaya did.

"Ah," Izaya sighed after a moment as their conversation died.

And then Izaya suddenly spoke, "Come with me to get some fatty tuna." Though there wasn't hunger gnashing at him just yet, he felt as though he might pretend it was to make this "deal" seem like more than what it really was, which meant he didn't want Shizuo knowing he had no idea what he could have him do.

Besides jump off a building, but he didn't think he'd consent to that.

"Why?" Shizuo asked, his face partially contorted in a less vocal hostility.

Izaya couldn't help smiling. "Because I have these," he said plainly, tapping the shades he'd stolen with his index finger before hopping out of the path of a hand that had darted out to snag the glasses while he wasn't onguard. "Still want 'em back?" A smile tugged at the edges of his lips as he gently prodded the glasses, trying to coax the blond male into staying a part of this agreement. When he didn't answer, he knew he'd won. "Then come with me for some fatty tuna!"

The blond grunted, saying to Izaya that he would follow and earning a sickeningly sweet smile from the ruby-eyed informant.

"Come on, Shizu-chan!" he said as he proceeded to half-drag the male to the familiar sushi restaurant, ignoring the odd looks they were receiving from the people around them; they all had to do a double-take. Orihara Izaya and Heiwajima Shizuo, two people who were engaged in what seemed like a twenty four hour war, were not fighting. He could understand their shock, though they all seemed to come around when they spotted Shizuo's familiar glasses on the face of the other male.

And when they arrived at the Russian sushi restaurant that Izaya was so fond of, the duo discovered Simon smiling brightly, likely because they weren't fighting for once. "Oh, Izaya, Shizuo!" he seemed genuinely surprised, but pleased by the new turn of events all the same. "Not fighting, good!" he said, then... "Sushi?" He gestured to the shop and Izaya nodded enthusiastically, more than happy to get his hands on some fatty tuna; he and Shizu stepped into the restaurant together, the latter not much of a happy camper.

They were seated immediately and Izaya's order was made as he sat with Shizuo, who was obviously too angry about being stuck with him to even think about eating, much less with him around.

"Ne, Shizu-chan," he started, peering at him from over the lenses of the blue shades, "You're really never lonely?" The blond nodded, eyeing Izaya as they sat there, like figured the sadistic male was up to something. Izaya wasn't proud to say that for once, he was not. There wasn't any king of plot brewing in his genius brain; he didn't even think through what he was doing, beyond grabbing his enemy's shades and getting the hell out of hitting distance. He was just feeling around in the dark blindly. After grabbing the shades, he'd had no idea what he was going to do. Well, besides running, anyways. The deal hadn't been part of the initial idea.

He wasn't surprised when there wasn't a question asked or a word spoken. It was only to be expected; there simply was nothing to question or talk about when you were with your one and only enemy for one good reason: You didn't give a shit.

But, he thought, if only that wasn't the case. He could stand fighting with Shizuo. On the contrary, he loved the game of cat-and-mouse that they played, but he wished they could occasionally be civil, providing the comfort of company that he didn't doubt they both needed.

But that was hardly in his nature.

"Do you?" Shizuo asked suddenly after a moment and it took Izaya a second to remember what the question was even referring to, but when he did, he found himself wanting to say yes, but that wasn't what popped out.

"Nah," he answered, waving his hand dismissively and damning himself for being so stubborn and prideful.

Chocolate eyes watched him carefully, as if he didn't believe him, and Izaya couldn't comprehend why; he was, after all, a flawless actor, so he didn't know what it was that had thrown him off. However, he himself felt a little thrown off his feet when he turned his head to look at the blond beast only for lips to connect with another set of lips. It was just a short kiss - hardly memorable, but he knew when his face flushed that he would remember this for years.

They separated and when the informant finally registered in his mind what had just occurred, and, of course, had the courtesy to blush in embarrassed, he realized something else.

His hands flew to his face, feeling for the glasses that had previously been there.

They were gone.

Red eyes, for a moment, peered upward, watching Shizuo's maniacal grin spread across his face again. He was tucking the glasses into his vest as he always did before getting into a fight, which produced a curse from the nimble young man. "Shit!" He narrowly avoiding the swing of the blond's fist and, much to his dismay, he fled from the restaurant before Simon ever returned with his fatty tuna; he felt from the restaurant with that desire for companionship still there.

A/N: I'd love to hear what you guys thought!