Requested by anonymous
Theme: fluffy towels
“Shizu-chan, if you keep showering, you’re paying my water bill this month.”
Izaya’s drawled words carried from his position at the bar in his kitchen to the bathroom door, slipping beneath the crack and permeating into the room. He heard sounds of someone moving in there and smirked; the shower had long ago turned off, yet he wasn’t sure what Shizuo could be doing in there otherwise. A hand reached and picked up his mug of coffee, taking a languid sip as the other hand held a newspaper, legs crossed. Sunday mornings in the Shinjuku apartment were like any other morning, save the presence of the blond that sometimes lingered.
When the bathroom door finally opened, a cloud of steam had Izaya turning away, so the moisture wouldn’t envelop his face. “That took you a while, yeah?”
The coffee mug was set down and red eyes rose, expecting to watch as Shizuo scoured his kitchen for something to eat. But when he saw a naked back and found himself staring at the way droplets of water from blond hair dripped between shoulder blades, Izaya recomposed himself and tore his eyes away.
“…Shizu-chan, this is a civilized world we live in. One in which one puts on clothes after showering.”
“It’s just you.”
“That doesn’t even—”
Shizuo turned around, closing the refrigerator door with a foot. The milk carton was opened and one hand lifted it to his lips—he just assumed that it was for him, being unopened and all, and Izaya would admit that was true—and several gulps were taken before he answered him.
“You’re the only one here,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “so it doesn’t matter.”
Izaya glared lightly as he watched Shizuo replace the milk carton in the refrigerator and turn his attention to cupboards. Lowly around his waist was wrapped a towel, a new set that Izaya had bought with the blond in mind. Giving a smirk, he wondered if putting on boxers had been that much effort that Shizuo would rather risk a towel falling off as he walked
“Shizu-chan… it looks like you’re wearing a kilt.”
A glance down told Shizuo what Izaya was referring to, and he looked over his shoulder with such a serious expression to accompany whimsical words that Izaya found himself at a loss for words.
“I like your fuzzy towels.”