A/N: I'm sure some of you are thinking, "Hey, I've read this before!" about this fic and some of the others I'm posting. Draw your own conclusions, kiddos, 'cause I promise these are all 100% me. Trust me. If there's anyone here who hates plagiarism, it's me, which is part of the reason some of these stories went away for a while.

Anyway, since I just want to get all of the stuff I have done in one place, that's why it's like this. And I hope you enjoy~

Thank you so much!

Hospitals.

He always loathed them.

Ever since junior high school, he'd done his very best to avoid them like they were the plague... or at least the diseases they really did carry. Of course, this can be difficult when you're constantly picking fights with all of the wrong people... gangs... mafia... drug dealers... a specific blond moron with the mental capacity of a retarded gorilla... Alas, he always managed to slip out of a fight just short of an injury that couldn't be patched up by one of his few real friends, because… what's a few cuts and bruises? Who needs stitches? And pain? Hell, that was part of the thrill. Oh, how he loved the thrill.

Except for this time.

This time had gone too far.

This time had landed him in the one place he made the biggest point to avoid.

This time, his friend - the estranged underground doctor - couldn't help him, all because said doctor's headless girlfriend informed the informant via PDA: [I can't carry you on my bike. And you deserved it.]

Bitch.

Being that the blond monster was her best friend, she didn't exactly contain the desire to help him either. Baring witness to the entire incident, she almost thought it was funny before he stared her down with wicked scarlet eyes. It was at this point she remembered how terrifying the brunet could be, and sped off on her motorcycle to catch up with the livid imbecile as he carelessly walked off the scene.

So, begrudgingly - and not without some attitude - Orihara Izaya gritted his teeth with a blend of horrid pain and aggravation. Promising revenge on Heiwajima Shizuo, he called himself an ambulance; thanking whatever powers that may be that, despite being thrown into afternoon traffic, the oncoming bus swerved out of the way just enough to miss his head or his torso as it unceremoniously cruised over his outstretched right leg.

All that, and much more, being said, Izaya wasn't exactly sure when he would be able to forgive Shizuo for this incident - if ever - mostly because during the time he'd spent in the hospital so far, the simple-minded idiot hadn't yet paid him a visit, let alone called. In fact, the only person who had been to see him was assistant, Yagiri Namie, who burst into a mad giggle fit the moment Izaya explained to her what had happened.

Shooting her a venomous glare, she soon shut her mouth, apologizing as she passed him his laptop. Just because he was injured didn't mean there wasn't work to be done... boredom to fight... revenge to be plotted. Albeit, none of it was quite the same when he couldn't get on his feet long enough to complete any work on his own.

This current predicament was quite infuriating.

Working on matters which did not require his physical presence (because only Izaya has the skills to destroy a life from a distance), he responded to the most interesting of his emails, hoping that some entertainment could come from the back and forth messages shared between himself and a particular leader of the Awakusu-kai, who, as usual, was irritated that Izaya had dug himself into another sticky situation when he needed him most.

"Shiki-san," the informant giggled the boss's name, clicking 'send,' "You always hate it when I'm unavailable to offer my services."

"Well, that little comment was suggestive, don't you think?" a gruff voice echoed through the injured man's eardrums.

Without a second to spare, Izaya shot daggers from bloodlust eyes at the tall, not-so-gentle man standing in the doorway.

"Six days without so much as a text message, or an email, and you don't even bother to knock first?" he shot.

Stepping into the hospital room - being sure to close the door behind him - Shizuo pulled the cobalt sunglasses from his eyes, tucking them away in his vest pocket. His angry glare wasn't enough to frighten the already peeved informant.

"Hey, I came here to talk," the former bartender defended himself, "If you don't wanna hear what I've got to say, I'll fuckin' leave."

Izaya sighed, cursing his brazen curiosity for getting the better of him. "To what do I owe this visit, Shizu-chan?"

"I want you to know that I ain't sorry for getting pissed last week."

Insert eye roll here. "Of course not," the raven bristled.

"You're a filthy parasite, and you fully fuckin' deserved it."

"Of course I did."

"And I still fuckin' hate you."

"Get to the point, Shizu-chan."

The blond's face suddenly fell into a shameful frown as he clenched his fists and gritted his perfect white teeth. Izaya couldn't help but take notice to how pearly they were, feeling a sudden longing to feel those tiny white bones sink into his flesh. Would they feel like heroin flooding his veins?

"I thought you'd catch yourself," Shizuo explained with tensing muscles. He came here to apologize, but the words stayed trapped in the back of his throat. "You weren't supposed to be run over."

"Well, damn, Shizu-chan! Maybe if I had known that I wouldn't be here right now!" the very source of the blond's stress scoffed.

Carefully, as if afraid, Shizuo's eyes settled on the slowly healing damage he had caused to the informant's nimble body. The elevated leg, undoubtedly barely held together by pins, rods, an screws, was fully wrapped in a protective cast, which he knew could easily shatter under his furious touch if he so desired. However, both of them knew they'd caused each other enough trouble.

"How long they keepin' you here?" asked the current bodyguard, wondering how much pain his smaller adversary was in.

Annoyed, Izaya closed his laptop in the middle of an online chat to focus his attention on the tense conversation. "If I'm lucky? Three weeks, one day, four hours, and twenty-seven minutes. To be back on both feet, seven weeks, one day, four hours, twenty-six minutes, and fifteen seconds. That's if I don't need a knee replacement."

Shizuo cringed. "Does it hurt?"

"All of the morphine in the hospital isn't making this pain go away. Yeah. It fucking hurts."

"But... it will heal... right? Like... all the way?"

"The nurse here is a real bitch. She only lets me out of bed to pee, and I'm bored as all hell since she confiscated my cell phone two days ago. So if it doesn't, and I end up a gimp, I'm going to destroy her before I kill you."

Sensing that an apology may not be enough to ease Izaya's fury towards the situation, Shizuo suddenly felt a million times smaller, and about a billion times weaker. So Izaya deserved to have his ass handed to him? But Shizuo never wanted to cause him so much pain that his new worry was whether or not he'd heal successfully. Because, what fun would it be to chase the louse through 'Bukuro if he couldn't run like he used to? Better yet, would he be able to run at all?

Feeling his hands begin to tremble from guilty pressure, Shizuo took a seat on the edge of the hospital bed, reeling in a deep breath. His frown intensified.

"Oh, no!" Izaya warned. "Do not give me that look! It already makes me sick to have you anywhere near me!"

Reaching out to touch the hospitalized man with quivering fingertips, Shizuo was quickly shocked to find himself shot down as a defensive hand slapped him down.

"Don't fucking touch me," the informant bitterly snapped.

His seriousness flashed in his unworldly eyes beside a gleam of hurt. However, this was not a sensation of physical agony; rather injured pride... or a broken heart, allowing Shizuo to understand that the reference to morphine was not necessarily directed at the ruined limb, but existed on a much deeper level. For this, he felt incredibly stupid, having forgotten that his smaller counterpart had an incredible addiction to physical injury.

Keeping his eyes on the white tile beneath his feet, Shizuo made a strange move to ask a bold question, feeling that leaving without an answer might destroy him from the inside out. "A-are you... are you breaking up with me?" he stuttered through the sentence, unable to face his victim.

"I don't see why I shouldn't," Izaya growled, folding his arms. "The route in which I take my business endeavors does not constitute you throwing me in front of a god damn bus."

Taken aback, Shizuo bravely brought his eyes back up to Izaya's. "Business endeavors!"

"What? You think I sleep around on you for fun? Tch. That's quite laughable, Shizu-chan." the blond was scolded. "No. There's some information money can't buy. But you never ask. You don't listen to reason. You just... rage!"

For a fuller effect, Izaya flailed his scrawny arms.

"You whored yourself out for your fuckin' job, Izaya?"

He shrugged. "It's more complicated than that, but I don't do it because I want to."

"So that guy…"

"Shiki-san?"

"Whatever. You ain't his lover, or some shit?"

"PFF! HELL NO!" the brunet insisted. His eyes were widened by suppressed hysteria. "One is enough! You're about as much as I can handle."

"So why're you sleepin' with him if I'm too much for you."

"I told you," Izaya raised his defenses yet again. "Business. And it's not like you and I ever discussed what kind of relationship we're supposed to be in. Is this thing even exclusive? I don't know. People in relationships have to talk about these things, you know."

Placing a hand on the smaller man's stomach, Shizuo tilted his head to the side, allowing his dead blond bangs to fall to the right, covering one of his stormy eyes. Feeling a bit daring, he began to drag his fingertips down a bit further, tracing circles on Izaya's hipbone with his thumb. Izaya's breath hitched in response to the contact.

"What are you doing now?" he shot, ignoring the heat rising to his ears.

Shizuo smiled, wondering if Izaya had forgotten to slap his hand away this time, or if he was actually enjoying this. "Does he make you feel as good as I do?"

"Tch. He doesn't push me into oncoming traffic," the brunet scowled, desperate not to give in to the blond. "Have you even been listening to me?"

"Let me make it up to you?" Shizuo's request dropped into a gentle tone, continuing to ignore the bedridden brunet's curiosities.

"And how do you expect to do that, Shizu-chan? Because, unless you can heal me in the next five minutes, I don't want what you're offering."

"You must be in a lot of pain…" Shizuo disregarded the comment, bringing his hand a bit lower to tug at the waistline of cotton pants provided by the hospital.

Unsure how to react, Izaya set his laptop on the bedside table. Exasperated, he settled his eyes on Shizuo, studying the blond's expression as he attempted to act innocent. "Yes…" Izaya breathed.

"I don't remember the last time I felt pain," Shizuo half-smiled.

"Lucky you."

"When I walked away, it wasn't 'cause I was pissed."

"What was it?" Izaya remained monotone.

"The sound of your voice - that scream and the crack your bones made… it was like needles in my spine."

"Now you're contradicting yourself, idiot."

"Does he make you feel as good as I do?" Shizuo repeated his earlier question, sliding his hand down Izaya's pants. "Does he know exactly… where… to touch…?"

Gasping, Izaya squirmed like a boiling noodle, as Shizuo's fingertips grazed the inner thigh of his left leg. Leaning forward, the bodyguard lightly brushed his lips over the informant's collarbone, as his free hand gently traveled over a sensitive spot between his ear and jaw line. Did Shizuo really have to attack all three of his most sensitive spots simultaneously? Fucking bastard.

"Hnn…" Izaya moaned, clamping his eyes shut in an effort to chase away the ecstatic contact made to his body.

"He can't do this to you, can he?" Shizuo chuckled, allowing his hot breath to soak in to Izaya's skin.

The heat burned lust into the smaller man's soul, making him wish he could spring to life out of the hospital bed he was confined to, for the purpose of running away. He didn't want this from Shizuo. After all, it was all his fault. Shizuo's fault.

Okay. Yeah.

So Izaya provoked the initial fight to begin with. In an unfortunate twist of events, he practically threw it in Shizuo's face that he had been a pretty decent fuck for the Awakusu-Kai's boss, even adding that Shiki - despite being stern and professional at all times - was good with his hands. Of course, the informant left out the piece about Shiki only ever using him to get himself off, because Izaya was likely to end up dead if he refused. He also left out the part about how, even if Shiki didn't necessarily need him, he liked that he wanted him… ignoring that he rarely got off himself, because Shiki was fairly detached - much more so than Shizuo. And he most certainly never touched him in these particular places, even though he was quite experienced on the subject of sexual intercourse. This is because, unlike Shizuo, Shiki had double the experience, and triple the women.

"You're a dick," Izaya viciously hissed through the pleasure, doing his best to chase all thoughts of the comparison between the two men from his mind.

"Should I stop?" the sultry voice of the blond monster, sent tingles down his spine.

"Hnn… N… no." Shaking his head, Izaya's voice quivered as he failed to resist temptation.

Proud of his minor accomplishment, Shizuo's fingertips traveled away from Izaya's thigh, towards his hard - and growing harder - length. Taking the piece in his hand, he gave the informant a few good strokes.

Izaya tensed, arching his back before succumbing to the beginnings of bliss, trying diligently not to forget that he was still pissed off for what Shizuo had done to him, deciding he'd have plenty more time to yell at him later.

"You like this don't you?" Shizuo continued to speak with the same sexy inflection in his voice. "You've always been a sucker for a gentle hand job. Since the first time… on the roof… after school."

"Shizu-chan…" Izaya moaned the blond's name, meekly clutching at the sheets of his bed as Shizuo continued to work. He could sense that jealousy was to blame for Shizuo's seemingly affectionate actions.

"Funny that you like it so gentle until I'm inside you."

"Hehhh…" Izaya was somewhere between a laugh and a moan when the comment struck him as humorous.

Shizuo grinned, inwardly laughing to himself as the erection in his hand stiffened further than either men thought possible. Cheeks flushed pink, Izaya's eyes began to roll back into his skull while Shizuo kept up the same gentle pace. The perfect expression of frustrated bliss was only helping to turn the blond on… although, the informant just as he was had always been plenty. Those crimson eyes. That silky mess of hair. Skin, soft like flower petals; smooth like cream. And the way he ran his tongue over his own canines - sharp like his blade - when lust wracked his lithe body. What about Orihara Izaya was not perfect? Even moody and damaged, he couldn't be more desirable.

"Is this good?" Shizuo cooed, torturing the informant with a sultry inflection.

"FUCK YOU," Izaya hissed, only sinking further into wanton limbo.

"Are you sure?"

"If you don't, I…aaaahh… ngghh," a particularly phenomenal stroke interrupted him before he could issue a threat.

"Excuse me. You were saying?" Shizuo bellowed.

"Fuck me, you dog."

Releasing Izaya from his firm grasp, Shizuo hovered over him, keeping him raring as he kissed up and down the smaller man's neck, while excitedly freeing himself from his pants - which had become all too tight over the last several minutes. Meanwhile, Izaya couldn't hold back from keeping himself going, as the wait was far too much for him to handle. As much as he would have liked to kick Shizuo in the face, and tell him to get out of his sight, the injured brunet needed more. So much more, feeling like he was an addict. Shizuo was the cocaine.

Positioning himself to dominantly loom over the immobile Izaya, Shizuo gently maneuvered under the broken leg - knowing full well that Izaya was in charge here. Carefully removing the hospital pants from Izaya's healthy leg, Shizuo then pulled him onto his lap by the waist without breaking eye contact. With every motion, from the most subtle to the more blatant, he counted on his eyes to do the speaking.

Taking note that the only available source for lubrication of his own fully solidified erection was a cup of chocolate pudding, Shizuo opted for a different route, continuing to stroke Izaya with the same pattern of tenderness, while bending over to leave a proper number of nibbles and kisses in a line from his hips to his collarbone.

"Hnnggh. Shi… Shiiiit. Shizu…ooh. Aah," the brunet moaned, loving how the blond's touch chased away the pain in his leg while sending him further and further into obliteration. He gasped, unable to fight a smile. "F-fuck, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo quickened his pace, about ready to lose control of himself he had to wait much longer to bury himself in the man beneath him.

"Shit…" Izaya breathed, "Shizu…nnghh. Shizu-chan, I'm gonna… Hnnn… I…"

"Do it," Shizuo growled, sinking his fangs into Izaya's hot, milky skin as he gave him a few hard strokes.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Izaya came, with a final rivulet of moans and curses, all over himself, and Shizuo's strong hand. As if watching the green light flash behind Izaya's fiery eyes, Shizuo slicked himself down with the informant's own hot product. If only to annihilate him further, the blond wasted no time sliding his own pulsating erection into Izaya with practiced force, hitting the sensitive prostate on contact.

"Aaaah… gghhh," Izaya cried, crumpling into the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain while Shizuo's teeth remained sunken into his skin. He could feel the tiny traces of welcomed blood emerging from the punctures left by those perfect little bones. His heavy breathing was music to Shizuo's ears as the blond began to mercilessly pump in an out of him, careful not to cause Izaya any excess, unwarranted pain.

"Shizu-cha…aaahn… Guh…" Izaya hissed, coiling both arms around the bodyguard's shoulders, frantically digging his nails into the man's back, while he buried his face in the crook of his neck.

He ignored the tugging of the needle in his arm as he pulled at the IV, working to supply fluids to his body. He couldn't wait to tell that bitch nurse all about this when she would have to come in to fix it.

Eyes tightly clamped shut, the raven-haired man did all he could to keep himself breathing at a steady rate, while Shizuo thrust in and out through his perfectly tight walls. He was digging himself far enough in to send Izaya over, doubling the intensity of their intercourse. One thing was certain: Street fights never had the adrenaline flowing quite like their impulsive habit of having sex whenever - and wherever - the opportunity struck next.

Loving the way strong hands ravaged his body in correlation with the desired pain, Izaya tossed his head back, giving Shizuo the perfect opening to release him from the bite, and go for that particular spot on the informant's neck. As if on cue, the information broker's sensitive patch of skin re-summoned his erection, much faster than he had anticipated.

With the flow of Shizuo ripping into him, hard and unforgiving, Izaya knew it was only a matter of moments before he was completely obliterated all over again. Arms still coiled around the blond, he felt Shizuo's powerful muscles contract, signaling that he was about ready to explode as well. He tightened his own inner muscles in return, clamping down on the hard dick in his ass.

"Iz…" Shizuo panted, unable to say the brunet's full name as a shaking wave of decadence pierced through him. "Gaaahh…"

"Finish it," Izaya ordered, readjusting his grip around Shizuo; giving him the okay to expel his desire inside of him.

Shizuo inhaled sharply before forcing himself into Izaya as far as he could go. The brunet's new erection barely had time to fully harden before the sensation of the blond shooting into him sent him far over the edge.

Blinded by spots of light as his head spun, Izaya let out a final gasp, wincing as Shizuo pulled out of him.

After catching his breath, Shizuo gently removed himself from Izaya, once again being cautious of the damaged limb. "How was that?" he asked with a smirk.

Still heavily out of breath, Izaya's head continued to spin in an uneven frenzy, making it impossible to verbalize his emotions. With a trembling hand, he pointed to the mess Shizuo had made of him. "Help?" he wheezed.

Nodding in affirmation, Shizuo retrieved a few paper towels from the bathroom before returning to wipe Izaya clean from the sticky mess… which didn't feel half as awkward as it sounded in his head, because Izaya, who was usually so independent had temporarily given up on the things he knew he couldn't do. And, because, Shizuo's hands on his body - in any way, violent or loving - was always welcomed, so long as the touch did not result in being hit by a vehicle in motion.

Helping the brunet back into his pants, the blond even hoped that during the next seven weeks, one day, three hours, forty-seven minutes, and fifty-two seconds, this first time would not be the last.

"So…" Shizuo started, tucking his hands in his pockets to hide agitation. "Do you think you can forgive me…?"

"Che…" Izaya scoffed, crossing his arms.

"No? After all that?"

"Hahahaaaa!" the informant cackled, "Oh, no! Shizu-chan! You don't get to be a kiss-ass. You came on to me."

"Agh! Fuck! That's not even fair! You little parasite!" Shizuo felt his blood begin to boil as his failed attempt at an apology was thrown back into his face.

Izaya was not having it. Until Shizuo actually said the words "I," "am," and "sorry," he wasn't going to give in to the fiery ecstasy, ignited by dangerously public sex alone. Adding to that, as long as he was confined to a hospital bed, he had plenty of opportunity to create a mental blueprint for his formulating revenge against the blond. That was not something he felt willing to pass up. Though, he couldn't deny his own giddiness from their rendezvous.

"You threw me in front of a bus, idiot!" he reminded the larger man, unafraid of the visible anger bubbling beneath his skin. "You're lucky I've got bad ties with the cops, or you'd be in jail for attempted murder."

"You fuckin' cheated on me! Most people would see that as a viable excuse for homicide," Shizuo growled. "I shouldn't be asking YOU for forgiveness."

"I told you. It was for business!"

"You're a slut. I shouldn't be apologizing to you!"

"And yet," Izaya sighed, "I find it almost cute that you are. Almost."

"Fuck! What more do you want from me?"

Izaya giggled, wondering if torturing the brute like this was enough. "Come back tomorrow. Same time. And I'll think about forgiving you."

Turning his frown into a devious smirk, Shizuo pulled his sunglasses out of his vest pocket, and backed out of the room. Opening the door, he stopped, turning back to steal a final glance at Izaya, who was eager to take a nap after such an intense workout. Excitement mixed with morphine. Yes. This needed to happen again. But for the time being, Shizuo was not ready to leave.

"Ne? Shizu-chan?" Izaya questioned the motion, batting his long lashes over ruby orbs.

Circling back to the informant's bedside, Shizuo pulled up a chair, taking his small hand in his own. "I was gonna go have a smoke, and come back," he explained, blushing against his will, "But… I can wait."

"You want to stay? Here with me?" Izaya mumbled sleepily. "Even though I gave myself to another man?"

"I've been with you for eight goddamn years. I think I can handle it."

"You're a moron."

Closing his eyes, Izaya drew in a deep breath, willing the pain in his leg to bury itself under the painkillers long enough to allow him some sleep. As long as Shizuo would keep coming back, maybe hospitals weren't so bad after all.